From outside the glass, Jonah didn’t look any different to the last time Sophie had seen him. His bandages were, perhaps, not so huge but he still looked unconscious. Suddenly a nurse was standing alongside her, asking if she would like to go in and speak to him. Actually, Sophie didn’t want to speak to Jonah ever again, but if she refused it would look terrible; callous. So, she said, ‘Just for a few minutes. How is he?’
‘He’s doing very well,’ said the nurse. ‘His friend came to see him this morning but we had to advise him that only family members were allowed to visit at the moment.’
Sophie stared at her. ‘His friend?’
‘Yes. A huge bald chap with a beard.’
Sophie tried not to overreact, tried to communicate vague recognition and allowed the nurse to escort her to Jonah’s bedside. In anticipation of visitors, the room was now graced with an uncomfortable-looking chair. The nurse pulled it close to Jonah’s bed, warned Sophie not to expect too much, then left. Sophie considered running straight back down to Sam and telling him about Jonah’s visitor but, instead, she sat down and watched the ventilator, the waves and spikes monitoring Jonah’s life. She glanced around to make sure there was nobody watching then stood up and leaned close to inspect the swathe of bandages. The slit over Jonah’s mouth still provided entry for the fat plastic tubing, but there was now another slit over his eyes. He really did look like that early Hollywood version of the Invisible Man. Apart from the fact that his closed eyes were visible through the slit.
She thought about saying something but her mind was devoid of inspiration. Perhaps she should ask him whether he had any feelings for his daughter who was now downstairs being cared for by another man. She jumped back as the monitor emitted a short beep, waited to see if anyone was going to rush in then leaned forward when they didn’t. She would say Laura’s name. That’s the least she could do. But she was on the same side as his reattached ear, so she leaned across to address the other side of his head. ‘Your daughter Laura’s downstairs.’ But, as she said it, she realised the inherent confusion in that statement and corrected herself. ‘Your youngest daughter, Laura Royston…’ She noticed the spikes on the monitor alter, maybe in response to what she had just said. She leaned even closer, her chin almost touching the bandages. ‘Jonah? Robert?’ she whispered. But, as she did so, the eyes in the slit flashed open. Wide, bloodshot, filled with panic. Just inches away from her own.
Sophie leapt backwards, backed away towards the door, opened it and backed out into the corridor, all the while checking that Jonah wasn’t rising up and staggering towards her, arms outstretched, trailing bandages. She closed the door, caught the attention of the same nurse, who was standing at some distance, next to a water dispenser. ‘His eyes opened!’ she shouted.
The nurse hurried over. ‘I should have warned you about that. It’s just a reflex reaction. It’s not likely that he’s actually registering any images just yet.’
Sam looked up as Sophie approached. ‘Hi. I managed to speak to Mrs B before she left. Apparently, Jonah’s making good progress. But it’ll be some time before he gets out of here. She suggested you call her tomorrow. Sometime after nine.’ He paused. ‘How did it go?’
‘He opened his eyes. But the nurse said it was just a reflex. Can we go home?’
‘Yes, of course.’ He started to collect Laura’s things together. ‘You OK, Soph?’
Sophie said yes, she was OK. But, really, she wasn’t.
On the way home Sophie watched the road ahead and tried to force from her mind the memory of Jonah’s eyes staring out through the slit in their white bandage pall, unaware that his corrupt world was being deconstructed as he lay there. Impotent. Exposed. She felt Sam touch her arm.
‘Soph, what’s wrong?’
She turned to look at him. ‘Five whole years and I never doubted him. It’s why he was with me such a long time. All his other women guessed what he was up to but I just carried on believing his lies, oblivious to the fact that he was getting himself involved in…’ She paused. ‘Sam! A bald man with a beard tried to visit Jonah. Earlier today. He said he was Jonah’s friend. But Jonah doesn’t have friends. I think it was one of those guys that came to the house. Although, this time he was on his own.’
‘The ginger guy was probably scared some dermatologist might spot his pulsating mole and not let him leave. We’ll tell the cops next time they call round. Stop worrying about it.’
Moments passed. ‘Sam, I’m sorry you’re having to witness all this fallout from Jonah’s lies. Gangsters breaking in and murdering us while we sleep.’
‘I really don’t think it will come to that, Soph. And I’m a bit pissed off that Blake raised the subject of suspicious characters coming to the house. I asked him, before you came down, to consider what a toll this was already taking on you.’
‘How long was he there before I came down?’
‘Not long. Maybe twenty minutes.’
‘But it was long enough for him to show you that list.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘I just think it’s strange how willing he is to allow you to speak for me. I didn’t think the police did that. What else did you talk about?’
‘We talked about football. Sophie, he knew I worked at the college. That list included college email addresses. Are you angry with me for involving myself in your affairs? I was only trying to help.’
‘I know. I’m sorry. This whole mess is making me crazy.’
Sophie woke several times that night, each time expecting to see some mole-faced killer looming over her, and each time waking Sam from his own restless dreams. At ten past three she collected Laura, without waking her, and put her in bed between them so they could all get some decent sleep. At three thirty Sam got up and dragged the chest of drawers across the bedroom door. Just before seven, Sophie jumped awake, sat up and addressed the room. ‘He said tell Robert that Joe and Col asked after him. The gangsters are called Joe and Col.’
Straight after breakfast Sam phoned a security company about fitting an intruder alarm then nipped into town to purchase some iron bolts. Sophie immediately phoned May Barnet and discovered that Jonah was responding to being spoken to. Sophie mentioned Rosemary Perrin’s imminent visit and stressed the practical difficulties that might arise with Robert’s accommodation, following his discharge from the rehabilitation unit. Mrs Barnet had made the quite reasonable suggestion that these problems should best be addressed when Mr Perrin’s post-recovery status had been assessed. Sam left for a meeting late morning and Rosemary arrived in a harassed state an hour or so later.
‘I wasn’t really prepared for that, Sophie,’ she said.
‘You mean the ventilator?’
‘It wasn’t so much that, it was his eyes looking out through those slits in the bandages.’
Sophie indicated the lounge. ‘Have you had lunch?’
‘No, I’m not hungry. Not after that.’
‘OK, what about a drink? Tea? Coffee? Prosecco? Did they tell you anything?’
‘They said he was improving quicker than expected. His eyes move towards noises. That’s freakin’ scary. And one of his hands moves. They said he’s in a minimally conscious state, which is due to the sedation. They can start to reduce that when they remove the ventilator. Then they’ll be able to assess the damage. They said his reflexes are all good. I asked them how long he’d be in the ICU and they gave me one of those “it depends” answers. I spoke to that weird woman, May Barnet, with that fixed look on her face. Like the Virgin Mary smiling down on the wicked. She said she’d keep me informed. I told her I was driving over to see you and I thought she was going to pee herself. Sophie, I’d kill for a prosecco.’
When Sam arrived home, Sophie was showing Rosemary photos of her five years with Jonah. He walked over to take a look. ‘You’d never know, would you? Such a consummate liar. I think they should all be burnt because Jonah Royston doesn’t exist.’
‘Unfortunately, Robert Perrin does,’ said Rosemary. She got to her feet. ‘Nothing personal, Sam, but I’d better be getting back. Or I’ll have another glass of prosecco and then you’ll never get rid of me. And by the way, loving the new haircut, Sam. Classy.’
Sam watched her pulling her things together. ‘I presume Sophie mentioned that the police have found evidence of Jonah’s involvement in various kinds of computer crime. Including the manipulation of false identities. I gather they searched your home?’
‘Yes. But I don’t think they found anything. I’ve always imagined that the only false identities Robert was concerned with were his own.’
Sam glanced at Sophie. ‘It’s just that we’re quite concerned about the kind of people he might have been involved with. Did Robert ever have any suspicious-looking characters come to the house? You mentioned those two detectives that called. You thought they might have been Special Branch. Have they reappeared? And you said people often pull into your drive to ask directions. Has that happened lately?’
‘Not since you visited. Why? Should I start to worry? We’ve got loads of alarms.’
‘No, don’t worry. Just call the police if you see anything suspicious.’
‘OK, Sam, thanks for scaring the life out of me.’ She gave him a quick peck on the cheek. ‘Sophie, stay in touch. Phone as soon as you hear anything and I’ll do the same.’ She waved at Laura. ‘Bye sweetheart. Happy birthday for tomorrow.’
Sophie saw Rosemary to the door. When she walked back into the lounge, Sam was collecting up photos. ‘That is one strange alliance,’ he said. ‘Perrin’s wife and mistress conspiring together. It reeks of the aristocracy of seventeenth-century France. Infidelity in the court of Louis Quatorze. The writing of Molière and Racine.’
‘Sam, I have no idea what you’re talking about.’
He handed her the photos. ‘Did you tell her about Suzie?’
‘I said that, so far, we hadn’t managed to contact Heidi. I never mentioned Suzie.’
‘Right. Is there any prosecco, or did you two drain the bottle?’
Sophie glanced up from scraping the last of the peanut butter out of the jar and noticed Sam slumped onto the kitchen table, frowning at her. ‘Are you cross about something?’
‘What? No! No, I’m not cross.’
She put the jar in the sink, carried the loaded spoon over and stood next to him. ‘I’m sorry if this whole Jonah thing is getting you down. It must be…’
‘Sophie, don’t be silly. It’s just that…’ He exhaled frustration. ‘I love you.’
‘Oh! Are you cross about that?’ She curled her tongue around the edge of the spoon.
‘No. I just… Sophie, we need to talk…’
She put her finger across his lips. ‘You need to know that I’m not just suffering from rebound syndrome, right? Well I’m not. I love you desperately. And if you make me hot chocolate, I promise I’ll love you for ever.’ She held the spoon towards him. ‘Do you want some? We’ve already shared germs.’
He laughed and prodded her hand away. ‘No! And it’s twenty past ten. You’ll get indigestion.’
‘I never get indigestion.’