The front door opened. Hugo Gwilym stood there, smile in place for whoever it was, persona ready, not wanting to disappoint his public.
The smile wavered and fell away. Surprise replaced it. And apprehension.
‘Hello, Hugo.’ Marina stared at him, barely managing to suppress the hatred and hurt she was feeling. He smiled back, recovering quickly. His features smug once more.
‘Can’t keep away, eh?’ He began to laugh, but stopped when he saw what was at the side of his front door.
A pushchair. With a child in it.
‘This is my daughter, Josephina,’ Marina said. ‘I thought you might be less inclined to try something if she was with me. Move.’
Still looking at the small child, he stood aside numbly, allowing her to lift the buggy over the threshold and into the house. She pushed it down the hallway into the living room, stopped, looked around, taking in the room.
‘Thought it would be like this. Your decor. Did a magazine do it for you a couple of years ago? “Handsome Psychologist Invites Us Into His Gorgeous Edgbaston Home”? Am I right, yes?’
He had reached the doorway and stood watching her.
‘Yes, yes you’re right.’
‘And you just left it as it was, yes?’
‘How did you know?’
She smiled. There was no warmth in it. ‘I’m a psychologist. I read people. It’s my job.’
Marina looked at Josephina ,who seemed to be happy playing with Lady, her soft toy, in the buggy. She smiled at her daughter then returned her attention to Gwilym, crossing the floor to stand next to him, lowering her voice as she spoke.
‘I know what you did,’ she said, eyes locked on to his, waiting to gauge his reaction. She would know in the next few seconds whether she had been right. ‘To me.’
He swallowed hard, tried to keep eye contact with her. Small beads of sweat had broken out along his hairline. Either he’s nervous, she thought, or he’s been on the charlie. Or both.
‘What… what I did. What did I do?’ He tried to laugh, pitching for bravado, nonchalance. Missed.
‘You know what you did,’ Marina said, struggling to keep her voice low, steady. ‘You drugged me. You raped me.’ The word hissed at him. She didn’t know if he had or not. This was the best way to find out. Saying it emboldened her.
He glanced nervously around at Josephina, back to Marina.
‘What? You worried about me saying the word rape in front of my daughter? Is that right? Are those your limits? Is that how far your decency stretches? Not saying rape in front of children?’
She could feel her voice getting louder, her control slipping. She took a breath. Calmed herself. Focused again on why she was there. What she wanted.
‘I… I didn’t…’ his voice dropped, ‘rape you. That’s… that’s a lie.’
‘Then why are you so nervous? If you didn’t do anything wrong, why are you sweating?’
As if noticing for the first time, he wiped his brow with the back of his hand. ‘I… I’m not.’
‘You are.’
‘It’s… hot. In here.’
‘No it’s not. And it’s December out there.’
He was about to reply, but Marina cut him off.
‘Look, Hugo, cut the bullshit.’ She took a deep breath. Steadied herself for what she was about to say. ‘I told Phil. My husband. You know, the detective?’
Hugo looked terror-stricken. ‘You… told him…?’ He clutched his face in his hands.
Bullseye. Marina tried not to smile. ‘Yes. I told him everything. As soon as I got home. And you know what? He believed me. That you drugged me, then raped me.’
Hugo looked suddenly like his own ghost. ‘But I —’
Marina trampled over his words, trying hard to keep the sense of triumph from her voice. ‘Yeah. I told him. And you know what he did? Guess.’
‘I… don’t know. Could you, could you please leave, now…’
‘He took samples. Blood. Urine. Sent them off for testing. See what’s still in my system. What d’you think of that?’
Gwilym looked like he was about to either disappear into nothing or just expire before her eyes. ‘I… I…’ He glanced around as if expecting the house, his world to come crashing down around him.
Marina moved in close to him, face up against his. Her voice low, threatening. Like heat lightning rumbling nearer. ‘So what was it, eh? What did you give me?’
His mouth worked but no sound came out.
‘Did you slip it in my drink during the meal? All those glasses of red wine you were keen to pour for me? Did you?’
He didn’t answer.
‘Did you?’
He nodded quickly. Beads of sweat flew from him.
Marina nodded, her suspicion confirmed. ‘Thought so. And then back here. To rape me. Isn’t that right?’
He was about to agree but stopped himself. Shook his head. ‘No,’ he said, his voice as bleak as his features. ‘No. That’s… No. I’m not, not a rapist.’
‘Oh yes you are, Hugo. That’s exactly what you are.’
He tried to shake his head again but didn’t seem to have the energy.
‘How many others? Eh? How many? I mean, I’m sure I’m not the first. What about…’ She tried to think of the girl’s name, failed. ‘That girl in the café? The one who’d been crying, what about her? Had you raped her as well? Is that what she was so upset about?’
Her words seemed to shock Hugo out of his trance. ‘No, I… That was… different.’
‘I’m sure. Or at least I’m sure you think so. What if I find this girl? Track her down? See if she’s got a similar story to me? What then, Hugo?’
He couldn’t answer, seemingly in a trance.
‘You’re finished,’ she said. The words were soft, almost whispered. Like a lover’s caress. ‘Finished, Hugo.’
She stood back. Smiled. She had got what she came for.
‘Rapist,’ she said. ‘What are you?’
He looked broken, defeated. His mouth was open to answer.
The doorbell went.
Neither of them moved.
It rang again.
Gwilym seemed to snap out of his trance. He moved to the window, looked surreptitiously out.
‘Oh God…’
‘What?’ Marina joined him.
‘It’s them? Isn’t it? Them…’
Marina looked. Standing on the doorstep were two police officers. She recognised one of them.
Her husband.