The house was in darkness when Phil let himself in.
He put his car keys on the kitchen table, his bag down by the side. They hadn’t been there that long and already he was establishing patterns of behaviour, getting used to the new routine. He had read somewhere that human beings were predisposed to find routine in everything. He remembered an old crime novel he had read, years ago, in which a man left his family and job and went to another city to set up a new life. When the private detective found him, he had established a new family and a new life. Routine had taken over.
He shook his head, wondered why his mind had thought of that, opened the fridge door. There were half a dozen bottles of beer on their sides. Routine dictated that he would take one, sit down and use it to help him to dial out work, dial in the family.
Except it was very late and the rest of the family were in bed.
He closed the fridge door, made his way upstairs. He thought of having a shower, decided against it. He was dog tired and it might wake him up, then he’d never sleep. And tomorrow, when he went to talk to Hugo Gwilym, he would be half asleep and might miss something. Given the level of scrutiny he was feeling from the rest of his team, that wouldn’t do.
Hugo Gwilym. Phil had heard of him, knew of his media profile, but nothing more specific than that. And he knew Marina was working alongside him at the university. She hadn’t mentioned him, except a few disparaging offhand remarks, but he wanted to talk to her about him. If she was friendly with Gwilym – which he doubted – there might even be a conflict of interest and he would have to step down as SIO. If that happened, he could just imagine what the office gossip would be like. And how much further his standing would slip in the eyes of the rest of the team.
He made his way slowly up the stairs, using the flashlight from his phone, so as not to wake the other two. He put his head round Josephina’s door, saw his daughter fast asleep, clutching her favourite soft toy, Lady. It was disgusting, filthy and ragged, but Josephina and Lady had been through a lot together, so neither he nor Marina minded her hanging on to it.
A quick visit to the bathroom, then into bed. Marina was lying on her side, eyes closed, breathing steady. He moved slowly round to his side, careful not to wake her, got undressed and slipped in beside her. Setting the alarm on his phone, he closed his eyes.
He had thought he would lie awake most of the night, working out the case in his mind, but he was so tired and, if he was honest, relieved to be engaged to this degree once more that he went straight off to sleep.
Marina had heard Phil come in. She knew his pattern: the door opening, the keys on the table, the fridge door. She heard the fridge close again, heard him make his way upstairs.
And her heart flipped.
She should talk to him. She knew that. Share what had happened to her.
But what had happened to her? She couldn’t remember. She had spent all day trying to relive the previous night. Over and over in her mind, replaying every single second that she could remember until she wasn’t sure what was real and what she was imagining was real.
Had she been raped? Or had it been consensual and she was so out of it she hadn’t been able to remember? And if so, if she had been so out of it, wasn’t that just date rape? Not if what Gwilym said was true. That she had wanted it, instigated it. She wished she could remember. Or at least part of her did. The rest wanted it never to have happened.
She heard Phil on the stairs. Opening Josephina’s door, checking she was OK. Routine. Then the bathroom door. She quickly lay on her side, closed her eyes. Pretended to be asleep.
She knew it was cowardly, but she didn’t know what else she could do. She couldn’t talk to him about it. Not now, perhaps not ever. And that made her feel even worse inside.
She heard the toilet flush, the bathroom door close. And then Phil was in the room, making his way slowly round the bed. A considerate and decent man. One of the few she had met. Partly why she loved him so much.
He got into bed next to her. She didn’t move in case he realised she was awake.
She needn’t have worried. He quickly got himself settled and his breathing changed. She knew he was asleep.
Marina lay there, physically so close but emotionally miles away from her partner, feeling warmth from his body but so, so cold inside.
She didn’t move all night.