Chapter 23

CHAMBERS’S FLINTY GREY eyes were shining with anger as he glared at Michelle across the wide, sunlit expanse of her sitting-room. ‘I can’t believe you would be so stupid,’ he raged. ‘Three weeks I’m gone, and I come back to find this! I’ve told you a thousand times you don’t do anything without clearing it with me first. We’re not trying to earn ourselves hero points here, it’s not some kind of glory trip, we’re trying to save lives and that includes our own.’

‘I know that,’ Michelle cried, ‘and I’m sorry. But …’

He wasn’t listening. ‘Camillo told you to get out of here, he told you what danger you’d be putting everyone in if you stayed, so what do you do? You stay! For Christ’s sake, you’ve got three kids out there, so what the hell are you thinking about?’

‘They’re there, aren’t they?’ she shouted back. ‘Nothing’s happened to them …’

‘So, what are you doing, hanging around until something does?’ he responded scathingly. ‘Jesus Christ! What’s the matter with you? You’ve probably blown the whole damned thing now, do you realize that? I mean, I might just as well pack up and fly out with you, for all the good it’s going to do me staying here after this.’

‘Pastillano knew who you were and what you were doing before I went into the favela,’ Michelle reminded him hotly.

‘He didn’t know we were about to get a whole stack of evidence to help promote his demise,’ he shouted back. ‘But he sure as hell knows now, ’cos you went into the favela and advertised it for us. Jesus, how could you have done that? We were so god-damned close! We’d have got that boy out of there. He’d be in a safe house now and once the others saw the witness protection working they might have come forward too. But who the hell’s going to speak to us now, when the kid’s probably already dead and for all we know the old man and his wife too. And what’s more, what’s more, is no one’s seen Antônio since he brought you back here that day, so where the hell is he, would you like to tell me?’

‘OK, I fouled up!’ she cried. ‘You can’t make me feel any worse than I already do.’

‘You’ll never feel as bad as the people you talked to are going to feel …’

‘OK! OK!’ Cavan butted in. ‘Let’s try and calm this down, shall we? The kids are out in the pool and they can probably hear what’s going on.’

Chambers tore his eyes from Michelle, glared at Cavan then turned angrily away as Michelle looked out into the courtyard where Robbie and Larisa were paddling about the pool on a lilo while Tomasz and Cara attempted to light the barbecue. Noticing that the front door in the perimeter wall was ajar, she slid open the French windows and called out to Cara to close it. Then, after glancing up at the dense green foliage that overhung the courtyard from the street outside, she turned back into the room.

Chambers was now standing at one of the wide picture windows, almost lost in the early evening sunlight as he stared down the hillside to where the ocean was hurling itself against the rocks below.

Michelle looked at Cavan, who was perched on the arm of a sofa, and seeing how angry he was too, despite his attempt to cool things down, she turned to the bar and snatched a bottle from the shelf. ‘Would anyone else like a drink?’ she snapped.

Chambers looked round, then, sweeping his keys from the table he said, ‘I’m out of here.’

As he passed her, Michelle longed to grab him and beg him not to go like this, but her own anger and pride wouldn’t allow it. ‘Cavan, why don’t you go too?’ she said tersely. ‘It’s been a long day and I’m sick of the way you’re all twisting the knife in my guilt when you know damned well if I could turn back the clock I would. But I can’t, so I’ll book myself on a flight out of here tomorrow and you won’t have to think about me again. Will that suit you? Will that make you happier, both of you?’

Chambers didn’t answer as he stepped out of the French windows and headed across the courtyard.

‘Don’t drink too much of that,’ Cavan warned as he started to follow. ‘It won’t help.’

‘So you’re going!’ she demanded. ‘You’re walking out of here …’

‘You just told me to,’ he snapped.

‘Then go! What the hell do I care?’

‘I’ll stay if you want me to,’ he said.

She looked at his exquisite face, the incredible blue eyes, the beautiful mouth and inky dark hair. She wanted desperately to reach out to him and feel him with her in a way that needed no words. She longed to lose herself in his love and escape, if only for a while, the dreadful feelings she had inside. But she couldn’t make herself say that and her eyes were suddenly bright with tears as her head filled with confusion and she cried, ‘Why would I want you to stay? I’ve managed without you all this time. So why would I need you now?’

His face instantly hardened. ‘You’re talking to Michael,’ he said and turning away, he stalked out of the room.

As the front door closed behind him she picked up her drink and downed it in one. Then, refusing to give in to the self-pity that was swamping her, or even to think about what he’d just said, she walked out into the shady courtyard and started to help Cara with the barbecue.

It was a difficult evening and the children, sensing the tension, were for once easily persuaded to go down to their room. Except Robbie hung back for a while and in his own four-year-old way tried to offer the comfort he seemed to sense she needed. She held him close, kissed his hair and smiled into his worried blue eyes, before taking him downstairs to the others and staying with them while Cara read a story. Later, she and Cara returned to the sitting-room and sat talking for a while, but Michelle was so dispirited and distracted that in the end they locked the doors, turned out the lights and descended the circular staircase to their own separate bedrooms.

It was in the very early hours of the morning, as Michelle lay awake on her tousled bed, that she first heard a strange noise somewhere outside. Though her heart jolted, she lay where she was, all her senses alert as she listened for it again. It was impossible to say what it had been, but there was something about it that had somehow jarred with the other night sounds.

Minutes ticked by and though she heard nothing unusual again her heart continued to thump as the ocean roared over the rocks fifty or so feet below her window. She turned her head to look at the moonlit blind and watched the shadow of an overhanging vine as it bobbed in the breeze. Suddenly a rogue dribble escaped the tap in the bathroom and her heart leapt to her throat. Her eyes moved to the open bathroom door and she could just make out the frosted glass of the shower and glinting brass frame of the towel rail. She wasn’t sure why, but her heart was thudding so hard now it hurt. Then suddenly her head spun round as the quiet clatter of loose stones right outside her window lifted her from the bed and sent her racing down the hall to the nursery.

The door was open and in the generous moonlight she could see all three beds, the bunk where the boys slept and the divan where Larisa’s soft toys were spilling on to the floor. Going to pick them up, she set them gently back on the pillow, then looked down at the child’s peacefully sleeping face. Her eyes darted across the room as she heard another noise, and realizing it was Tomasz stirring in his sleep, she went to check on him too. Like his sister he was dead to the world, and after smoothing his hair she stooped to the bottom bunk where Robbie was sprawled out on his back, arms and legs akimbo, his little white undershorts appearing too big for his tiny tanned body. She stared at him for a while, still listening to the silence and trying to contain the emotion that was sweeping through her chest. Then, knowing nothing would wake him, she leaned over to kiss his cheek.

After checking on Cara and finding her sleeping too, she made her way back to her bedroom and sat down on the edge of the bed. Almost instantly she was back on her feet, spinning round to look at the window. Her heart was pounding, her entire body shaking. She could hear voices outside. A shadow moved across the blind and she opened her mouth to scream. No sound came. Her throat was dry. Her limbs were frozen.

‘Michelle.’ The voice was a shouted whisper.

A bleat of terror escaped her lips as she pressed a hand to her mouth and stared at the window.

‘Michelle! It’s Antônio.’

‘Oh my God,’ she sobbed, relief rushing so fast to her veins she felt herself go dizzy. But why was he at the window, not the door? It didn’t make any sense.

‘Michelle,’ he said again.

Her legs were almost too weak to move, as reaching for a robe she slipped her arms into the sleeves.

‘Please, Michelle,’ Antônio urged. ‘I must speak with you. If you can hear me, don’t be afraid. Just open the window.’

Michelle took a step forward, but she was shaking so hard she could move no further. Sweat was running down her sides, the sheer fabric of her nightgown clung to her skin.

‘Michelle! Wake up!’ Antônio called. A note of desperation had crept into his voice and as though spurred by it she crossed quickly to the window. But still she didn’t raise the blind.

‘Antônio?’ she whispered. ‘Why are you there? Why don’t you use the door?’

‘Because we’d have to go past the security guard and I have someone with me who mustn’t be seen,’ he answered.

‘Who is it?’ she asked, standing to one side of the window and trying to peer out through the edge of the blind.

‘It’s Chico, one of the boys Luiz told us about. Luiz is here too. He’s down below in a boat, he couldn’t make the climb.’

‘Luiz is here? He’s alive?’ she said, the joy of it rushing like a drug through her veins, and without giving it a second thought she let up the blind and pushed open the window. ‘How did you get him?’ she said. ‘Where did …’ She stopped suddenly and the blood drained from her face as she looked past Antônio to the man who was with him. ‘Oh my God,’ she breathed, unable to tear her eyes from Marcelo. ‘Oh, Antônio, I can’t believe you’re doing this.’

‘No, listen, I know what you’re thinking,’ he cried, ‘but you’re wrong. He wants to talk. He knows everything there is to know about Pastillano and he’s prepared to tell us.’

Michelle continued to stare at the gang leader, whose mean, arrogant face was swathed in silvery moonlight, and whose presence was guarded by two gun-toting sidekicks. ‘Why?’ she said. ‘Why would he tell us?’

‘Because he’s not in Pastillano’s pay,’ Antônio answered. ‘And because Márcio was one of his.’

Michelle’s eyes hadn’t moved from Marcelo. ‘Where’s Luiz?’ she asked.

‘Down below,’ Marcelo answered. ‘If you like, I’ll take you to him.’

Long minutes ticked by as Michelle’s eyes bored right into him, while doubt and indecision raged through her mind. But if they were going to harm her they could have done so easily by now, and if Antônio trusted them maybe she could too.

‘Just hear what he has to say,’ Antônio urged, ‘it can do no harm.’

In the end, as though acting with no will of her own, she stood back and allowed them to climb over the window-sill into the room. As they followed her quietly past the children’s room and up the stairs to the sitting-room she was praying silently to God that she hadn’t just made the very biggest mistake of her life.

To test it she turned on the lights, waited for them to assemble in the room, then, looking straight at Antônio she said, ‘I’ll have to call Tom,’ and braced herself for the response.

‘Michael! No! Michael!’ Ellen squealed. ‘Please, no. Stop. I swear I’ll never do it again.’

‘Are you sure about that?’ He laughed, rolling her over and squirting more cream in her face.

‘Yes!’ she spluttered, catching a mouthful as she gasped with laughter. ‘Michael, I swear, I’ll do anything, just don’t … No!’ she screamed as he began tickling her again.

The struggle went on as they shrieked and laughed and rolled around the floor, trying to pin each other down and spray more cream in the other’s face. It ended with Ellen sitting astride him, her hair matted and wet, her T-shirt soaked right through and her long, tanned legs gripping his waist.

‘No more,’ she gasped, holding his arms at a distance. ‘I can’t … No!’ she cried, as he pressed the nozzle again.

His face was alive with laughter as he looked up at her, his hair and two-day beard flecked with foam, his bare chest rising and falling as he panted for breath. ‘Did I hear you say you’d do anything?’ he challenged.

A new light shot to her eyes. ‘Anything,’ she vowed.

‘Absolutely anything?’

Her smile was widening. ‘Absolutely anything.’

‘Are you sure?’

She hesitated. ‘Almost,’ she answered.

He shook his head. ‘Uh, uh,’ he said. ‘I want unconditional surrender with amends on my terms or …’

‘Just a minute,’ she interrupted, ‘I’m the one on top here. OK, OK, OK,’ she laughed, as he easily drew in his arms and started to get up. ‘Anything, I swear it, just don’t tickle me again.’

‘Then get off me, woman,’ he demanded.

‘Do you promise you won’t tickle me?’ she said, keeping hold of his hands.

‘Promise.’

She was laughing again and shaking her head. ‘No, I don’t trust you,’ she said, then yelped, as quick as a flash he tipped her over and covered her body with his own.

‘Ow! ow! ow!’ she cried. ‘Your buckle’s digging into me.’

His eyebrows went up. ‘Is that your way of getting me to undress?’ he enquired drolly.

‘Anything, just … ah, that’s better,’ she said, as he adjusted his weight. His face was very close to hers now and she was simmering with laughter as she gazed up at him, waiting to see what he would do next.

‘You know, there’s still some cream left in that can,’ he said, nodding to where it had rolled against the foot of a chair.

‘Is there?’ she said, looking from his eyes to his mouth and back again.

He nodded. ‘And do you know where I’m going to spray that cream?’ he asked.

She looked at him, ready to burst into laughter.

He nodded again. ‘You’re right,’ he said. ‘That’s exactly where I’m going to spray it and guess what you’re going to do?’

‘No!’ she cried.

‘But you gave me your word, remember. Absolutely anything.’

She was laughing too hard now to answer, for she knew precisely what he was saying and knew too that she was perfectly happy to go along with it. So lying right where she was, she watched him as he rolled over and began to unfasten his shorts.

‘Bring me the cream,’ he commanded.

Obediently she reached out for the can and passed it over. Though she was still laughing, her pulses were quickening.

‘OK, over to you,’ he said, a few minutes later.

They were in the sitting-room of his Barbados home, a small, single-storey villa with quaint brick arches that separated each room from the other and huge picture windows that looked down over the hillside to the glorious sparkling-white beach below. A cluster of magnificent date palms soared over the red-tiled roof, while the soothing murmur of the sea drifted on the breeze into the cool, shadowy interior of the house. On the patio outside were the remains of their lunch, sheltered by a white canvas parasol and two thickly padded loungers, strewn with towels and stained with oil. There were only two other houses in the bay, neither of which were visible from the niche in which Michael’s sat, so their privacy was total.

As their passions rose, fusing together like the waves in the bay below, Michael raised Ellen’s T-shirt and lowered the skimpy bikini bottom. They had been here for almost two weeks by now, so their bodies were beautifully tanned and so blissfully attuned to each other that their love-making just got better all the time. The playful fight that had led to the urgency that was overwhelming them now had started with Ellen creeping up on him while he was asleep and decorating him with a beard of cream. That had been in retaliation for the ice-cold water he’d poured over her back while she was sunbathing earlier, which in turn had been a payback for something else. In fact the entire vacation had been such a madhouse of fun and laughter, relaxation and exploration that neither of them was ready to give it up in five days and return home.

They had yet to discuss the future, but she knew they would before they left and because of how close they had become these past couple of weeks she had little problem persuading herself that there was no reason to be afraid now. Though he hadn’t told her again since that night in New York that he loved her, she knew from other things he said, from the way he looked at her, touched her and shared so much of himself with her, that he did. It was true she wouldn’t mind hearing it again and maybe even have him look into her eyes when he said it, rather than at her reflection in a mirror. But he would when he was ready and though she had to confess to occasional tremors of unease if ever she thought of Michelle and how he never willingly mentioned her name, she had only to think of the way he held her and made love to her to realize how deeply he felt.

Much later that evening she was sitting alone at the edge of the sea, letting the gentle, translucent waves lap around her ankles as she sipped the last of a Martini and gazed contentedly out at the golden blaze of the sun. Michael was back at the house, throwing together some kind of concoction a beautiful, fat, ebony-faced woman had given him the recipe for at the market that morning. It amused Ellen no end the way he flirted with the locals and even took samples of his cuisine back to the market for them to taste. It had got so even the men were pleased to see him and the women’s unabashed bawdiness, which was no less subtle than their huge, ripe melons and long, sturdy bananas, was so infectious that Ellen couldn’t resist joining in and teasing him too. Every day they came away with cartons of luscious fresh fruit that they would never be able to eat themselves, so they invariably ended up stopping further along the road to give most of it away to a bunch of cute kids who had got wise to them by now.

Sighing softly she smiled to herself and took the olive from her drink and ate it. It was such a wonderful, balmy night and the tangy scent of the sea mixed exotically with the gentle aroma of the many shrubs and wild flowers on the hill. The high-pitched chafing of insect life chorused around the bay, while the hypnotic rhythm of an old jazz tune drifted lazily from the radio up at the house. She guessed that sooner or later one of them would bring up the subject of going home and what would happen after, but she had to admit that for once she was in no real hurry to get to it. She had already resigned from ATI and would be leaving at the end of next month, and from the way Michael was taking such delight in making jibes about her unemployed state she strongly suspected he was going to ask her to go to London.

She felt a small lurch in her heart at the thought of what she was going to say if he did, for though she’d more or less decided she would go, she didn’t want to think about how her parents were going to take it. It was bad enough her being in LA, but London was probably going to kill any chance of her father ever speaking to her again. And as if that wasn’t bad enough, what was she going to do about her career? She was in no doubt about how much she loved Michael, but he couldn’t be her entire life and the entertainment industry in London was like a puppet show when compared with the panoramic stage of Hollywood.

‘Hi,’ Michael said, coming to sit down behind her and kissing the back of her neck as he wrapped his legs around her.

‘It’s so beautiful here,’ she sighed, leaning her head on his shoulder and watching the sun’s final, fiery rays fan across the horizon. ‘I wish we could stay for ever.’

‘Mmm,’ he murmured, putting his drink to her lips as he noticed her glass was empty.

‘Do you think we’d get bored?’ she asked.

‘Maybe, after a couple of years,’ he answered.

She smiled and turned to kiss him. ‘How’s dinner coming along?’

‘OK. Ready in about half an hour.’

They sat quietly then, listening to the eclectic sounds of the night as darkness spread through the cove and their thoughts moved peacefully through the contentment of being in each other’s arms.

‘I love you,’ he whispered, staring out at the sea.

Ellen’s heart swelled and putting her head back to look at him she said, ‘Say that again.’

Though he smiled, his eyes remained serious as he gazed into hers and said, ‘I love you.’

‘I love you too,’ she said softly.

He continued to look at her, his eyes searching her face, until finally he said, ‘So what are we going to do?’

She shook her head. ‘I don’t know. I was hoping maybe you had the answer.’

‘What do you want to do?’ he asked.

‘You mean, like if the choice were all mine?’

He nodded.

‘Then I guess I would want you to come to the States.’

His eyes moved away and wandered to the dark, invisible distance. ‘I thought that’s what you might say,’ he responded.

‘But it’s not going to happen, is it?’ she said, feeling her insides starting to tighten.

It was a long time before he looked at her again, but before he could speak she said, ‘I’ll come to London. I’ve thought about it and …’

He looked down at her and slowly shook his head. ‘No,’ he said. ‘It won’t work. And I don’t want you to come.’

The shock of his words hit her so hard she couldn’t speak. Then she started to break away.

‘Ellen, listen,’ he said, trying to pull her back.

‘No, I don’t want to listen,’ she replied, getting to her feet. And staring down at him, her eyes bright with anger and pain, she said, ‘I don’t know what’s happening with you. First you tell me you love me, then you say you don’t want me …’

‘Just listen,’ he said, getting up, ‘I said I don’t want you to come to London, that’s not the same as saying I don’t want you. I love you, for Christ’s sake, and I don’t want us to carry on the way we are either, meeting up for the odd days here and there, a vacation or two a year, but we’ve got to be realistic, Ellen, and try to find a solution that’s going to work for us both. Shit,’ he seethed as the phone started to ring inside the house. ‘Can we ignore it?’ he asked.

She shook her head. ‘I asked my mom to call tonight, she’ll worry if I don’t answer.’

‘OK,’ he said and stooped to pick up the glasses as she started up the path to the house.

‘Hello?’ she said into the receiver when she got there.

‘Hello. Can I speak to Michael please? It’s his brother, Cavan?’

‘Yes, yes, of course,’ Ellen replied, a strange buzzing starting up in her head at the urgency in Cavan’s tone. ‘I’ll get him,’ and going to the door she called out to where Michael was, half-way up the path. ‘It’s your brother,’ she told him, as he came on to the patio. ‘He sounds upset.’

With a haste that surprised her he thrust the glasses into her hand and grabbed up the phone. ‘Cavan?’ he said. ‘Is everything all right?’

‘No. It’s Michelle,’ Cavan answered, panic shaking his voice.

‘What about her?’ Michael demanded.

‘She’s … she’s been arrested.’

‘What do you mean, arrested?’ Michael cried. ‘What for, for God’s sake.’

‘Drugs. But it’s a set up. She’s been working with some kids here, getting evidence against the police, I mean like really heavy stuff, and now they’ve arrested her. We’ve got to get her out, Michael. You don’t know these guys … They can do anything. Tom Chambers, you know, the American I told you about, well he reckons the only chance we’ve got is to buy her out. But it’s going to take a lot of money.’

Michael’s face was so pale that Ellen couldn’t bear to look at him. As she turned away, Michael turned too. ‘What about …’ he said quietly into the receiver.

‘It’s OK,’ Cavan assured him, seeming to know what he was saying. ‘Everything else is taken care of. It’s just Michelle we’ve got to worry about. Can you wire some money. We can take care of it, if you can just send …’

‘How much?’ Michael asked.

‘I don’t know. Twenty grand. Thirty.’

‘Are you out of your mind!’ Michael shouted.

‘These guys are rich, Michael. We can’t buy them off with a couple of hundred …’

‘Just a minute, you’re talking about bribing the police? Am I getting this right?’

‘Yes,’ Cavan answered in exasperation. ‘But it’s too complicated to go into now. Just send as much as you can, will you? Send it to Unibanco on Avenue Copacabana, Account 1515 in my name. You’ve got to help us with this Michael, or God knows what’s going to happen to her.’

‘I’ll send the money,’ he said, ‘but I want you to ring me the minute anything changes. Do you hear me? I want you on this phone telling me everything’s all right …’

‘I’ll call,’ Cavan promised. ‘First thing tomorrow. Can you remember the bank?’

‘Yes, I remember it,’ Michael answered and repeated it. ‘Now tell me where …’

‘I’ll call you tomorrow,’ Cavan cut in. ‘I’ll tell you everything then, but I’ve got to go now,’ and he rang off.

‘Damn,’ Michael seethed, slamming the receiver back on the hook. ‘Damn, damn and fucking damn.’

Ellen was standing in the doorway, her expression filled with unease as she felt the distance creep between them. ‘What’s happened?’ she asked quietly.

He was standing with his back to her, staring at the wall. His anger and tension were so great she could almost feel it. At last he turned round to look at her. ‘All I know is Michelle’s been arrested for drugs,’ he said, seeming to resent having to say even that much.

Ellen looked away, then jumped as he banged a fist into the wall.

‘God-damnit, I should have known something like this would happen,’ he raged. ‘I should have damned well seen it coming.’

As Ellen looked at him she could feel herself breaking apart inside. ‘I didn’t realize you still cared so much,’ she said.

His head came up and for a moment he glared at her, then, turning away, he walked out into the garden.

He didn’t come to bed that night, nor did he eat any breakfast when Ellen prepared it in the morning. He simply paced up and down, waiting for the phone to ring. She’d heard him talking to his bank in the early hours of the morning organizing a twenty-thousand-pound transfer, but other than that he hadn’t spoken at all. And now, as the minutes ticked by and his temper threatened to explode, Ellen knew that it would be pointless to approach him with anything more than coffee.

At last he reached the point where he could wait no longer and snatching up the phone he dialled Cavan’s apartment. There was no reply.

It continued like that for the rest of the morning, pacing and phoning, pacing and phoning, until finally at around midday he got an answer.

‘Cavan!’ he shouted, his voice heavy with relief. ‘Where the hell have you been?’

Ellen got up from the patio and came to the door.

‘It’s Tom Chambers,’ a male voice at the other end told him.

‘Where’s Cavan?’ Michael barked. ‘I need to talk to him.’

‘Is that his brother?’

‘Yes.’

‘I haven’t seen Cavan since last night, just after he called you.’

‘What do you mean?’ Michael cried. ‘What the hell’s going on down there?’

‘I wish I knew,’ Chambers responded grimly.

‘Oh Jesus Christ,’ Michael muttered. ‘I’m coming down there. I’ll be there as soon as I can.’

‘You can get a message to me through the concierge at the Rio Palace Hotel,’ Chambers told him and the line went dead.

Michael hit the connectors, then quickly dialled again. ‘Sam,’ he said to the agent who took care of the house and garden, ‘I need to get to Rio the fastest route possible. That’s right, Rio de Janeiro. No, I’m not kidding. I’m on my way to the airport now, fix up what you can and I’ll call you when I get there.’

‘Michael,’ Ellen said, as he started towards the bedroom.

He turned back.

‘What about us?’ she asked, knowing how inappropriate it was, but having to say it anyway.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘Now’s just not the time.’

Her head went down, then suddenly, surprising herself as much as him, she felt an anger rising in her that she just couldn’t control. ‘Well, I think that maybe it is,’ she said tightly. ‘In fact, it’s the perfect time, because it’s not about London and LA, is it? It’s about me and Michelle. Or, more accurately, Michelle, because it’s always been about her …’

‘You don’t understand,’ he said.

‘Then explain it.’

‘There isn’t time,’ he answered, and walked off into the bedroom.

Ellen went after him. ‘You still love her, don’t you?’ she challenged. ‘That’s why you’re going …’

‘For God’s sake!’ he cried, spinning round. ‘She’s got my son, OK? We’ve got a son and he’s down there with her, and now Cavan’s missing too. So what do you want, that I sit by and do nothing? Would it make you feel better if I just ignored … Oh Christ!’ Seeing the stricken look on her face had stopped him and turning away, he dragged a suitcase from the closet and threw it on to the bed.

‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ Ellen whispered, still so shaken she could barely find her voice.

‘I don’t want to discuss it,’ he barked.

‘But …’

‘Just leave it, OK,’

‘Then tell me about Cavan,’ she shouted. ‘Has he been arrested too? I mean, what the hell is happening down there?’

‘How the fuck am I supposed to know until I get there?’ he shot back.

‘OK, you don’t have to take it out on me,’ she shouted. ‘I’m just the person you’re leaving behind. The person you say you love, but couldn’t even tell you had a child. I had to have it yelled at me as though it was my god-damned fault he’s down there. And now you can’t wait to get away from me because Michelle, the woman you really love, the mother of your son, needs you. Well, fuck you!’ and she stormed out of the room.

‘I’m taking the car to the airport,’ he yelled after her, ‘so if you want to come too, you’d better start getting yourself together.’

‘I’ll get a cab,’ she yelled back. Then, returning to the bedroom, she said, ‘And when all this is over, when you’ve done whatever the hell you’re going down there to do, don’t start thinking about us again, because as of now there is no us. Do you hear me? We’re through. Finito. I’ve had it with you and your god-damned secrets. I don’t want to see you ever again after …’

‘OK, you’ve made your point,’ he cut in, snapping his suitcase shut and lifting it off the bed. ‘Now, if you’re not coming with me, would you mind getting out of the way.’

‘No!’ she cried through her teeth. ‘I want you to tell me you’re doing this for Cavan and your son. I want to hear you say you don’t love her any more. At least tell me that.’

‘We’re through, remember,’ he responded coldly.

‘You bastard!’ she seethed, her hand cutting him hard round the face.

‘OK, now please, get out of the way,’ he said.

With tears streaming down her face Ellen took a step back and allowed him to pass. She was so traumatized by her temper and the shock of finding out he had a son that all she could do was rest her head against the wall and sob.

She could hear him starting up the car and willed him to come back. But he didn’t. And she knew, then, that the feeling she’d tried so hard to ignore that she was going to lose him had been right, because she just had and there wasn’t a single damned thing she could do to change it.