Sophie preferred not to think about Jonah living in her house and, instead, concentrated on the things at hand: the inanity of her job; Laura’s displeasure at having to share a crèche with an infant sociopath; the slowly evolving house that she was to share with Sam; and the proximity of Christmas. It was approaching Tuesday lunch hour, towards the end of November when it occurred to her that her Christmas tree decorations were in the loft at her mother’s house. She hadn’t thought of them all those weeks ago, when she’d been squashing things into Jesse’s van. She didn’t want them to be there, imprisoned in a house occupied by Jonah, denied a Christmas tree for the first time since she was a child, so she waited for Viola to leave then phoned Sam. She was about to ring off when he answered.
‘Soph. Anything wrong?’
‘No.’ She could hear raucous laughter in the background, laughter too deep and vulgar to belong to students. ‘Are you in a pub?’
‘Blimey, I knew you’d been tracking me. I’m at a spur-of-the-moment faculty meeting. But I’m only drinking shandy. Are you OK?’
Sophie rolled her eyes at her keyboard. ‘Yes, but I’ve just realised that all my Christmas decorations are in the loft at my mother’s place.’
‘They’re probably OK. I can’t see Jonah going up to have a poke about. There’s no light up there. The cops had to use torches when they were checking it out.’ He paused. ‘Are you about to tell me you want me to go over and ask Jonah if I can look in his loft? Can’t we buy new decorations?’
‘They’re the same ones I’ve had since I was little.’
‘Right. I’ll drive over later.’
‘Sam, I can hardly hear you.’
‘I said, I’ll drive over later.’
She paused. ‘I’d better come too… I mean… you’ll never find them.’
‘Ah, Sophie! OK, why don’t you text Jesse and ask if he’ll sit Laura. And phone Social Services and explain that we’ll be visiting Jonah around seven.’
They parked in the back road and walked round to the front door, but just as they drew even with Mrs Davies’ closed curtains, Sophie tugged at Sam’s sleeve. ‘What if he overreacts?’
‘Social Services told him to expect us, didn’t they?’
‘I assumed they would, but they didn’t actually say they were going to. And I don’t think there’d be anyone there with him. I think they just visit during the daytime.’
‘Well, we’ve come this far. Come on, it’s your house. And besides, I get the impression you’re more than a little curious. A little interested to see how he’s managing without you.’
‘I’m not!’
‘Right. Well, I am.’ He pulled her towards the door, climbed the steps, rang the doorbell then stepped down beside her.
At first there was no answer, but at last footsteps could be heard approaching. The door opened and Sophie took a step back in surprise. ‘Suzie!’
Suzie returned the surprise. ‘Sophie!’
‘Didn’t anyone mention we were calling round?’ said Sam.
Suzie looked nonplussed. ‘I don’t think so. Would you like to come in? I’m making supper.’
Sophie was caught between a polite response, whereby she ought to offer to come back later, and downright outrage at being asked whether she wanted to go into her own house, which was currently accommodating, rent-free, her cheating ex-partner and quite possibly his treat-me-like-a-doormat pregnant other woman. ‘Are you living here, Suzie?’
Suzie seemed oblivious to the unreasonableness of the situation. ‘I come over most evenings to make supper. After the carer leaves. We watch a bit of TV and I make sure he gets to bed OK.’ She moved aside to invite them in. ‘I’d better check the casserole.’ She hurried away to the kitchen. Doormat.
As Sophie stepped into her hallway, she caught sight of Jonah, sitting in her lounge, on her sofa that had been violated in a search for evidence of his villainy. Damn it, she was not going to allow the absurdity of the situation get the better of her. She strode straight in to confront him and, with confident familiarity, said, ‘Hello, Jonah, do you remember me now?’
Jonah glanced up from his crossword book. ‘Sophie, isn’t it?’
Sam was right behind her. ‘You know damn well it is. We’ve come over to collect some things from the loft.’ He squeezed Sophie’s arm. ‘I presume the ladder is still in the back porch. Are you OK here?’
‘Yes.’ She touched his hand. ‘There are three boxes with “Xmas” written on them.’ She watched him leave. Then, without taking her eyes off Jonah, she put her bag down on the coffee table, removed her coat and sat down in the armchair. ‘How are you, Jonah? Or, should I say, Robert?’
‘I’m improving every day, they say.’
‘Didn’t they tell you I was coming over?’ She noticed Jonah’s copy of Lord of the Rings back on the side table. His pewter tankard beside it.
‘I’m not sure. I forget things,’ he said. The corner of his mouth twitched upward. ‘They tell me this is your house. And that I used to live here. It’s very kind of you to let me stay while Suzie helps me sort out my affairs.’
Sophie could feel her blood turning to bile. ‘Why don’t you cut the crap, Jonah? We both know this is all a performance and poor Suzie’s your latest victim.’
‘She tells me I’m the father of her child.’
Sophie stared in disbelief, but their exchange was interrupted by the sound of an approaching ladder. Sam stopped to check Sophie was OK then carried on up the stairs.
‘Be careful,’ called Jonah. He smirked at Sophie. ‘He seems like a nice guy.’
In that instant, Sophie truly hated him. ‘Josie wants us to sell this place as soon as possible. I presume that if the police don’t clap you in irons, you’ll try and set up home with Suzie, although God knows how you think you’ll manage with Suzie pregnant and no money coming in. I take it you know Rosemary’s planning to have your Exeter house.’
Jonah glanced towards the empty hall. ‘She’ll be lucky. The ungrateful cow! If she thinks she’s going to stay there with her dumb-blond lover boy, she’s mistaken.’
Sophie was appalled. She felt the need to defend Rosemary but, just at that moment, Suzie stepped into the room, carrying a tray with Jonah’s obligatory pre-supper glass of milk and digestive biscuit. As she bent over to balance the tray on his lap, Jonah caught Sophie’s eye and gave an unpleasant smile. ‘Thank you, Suzie darling,’ he said.
Suzie beamed at him, asked Sophie if she would like some tea. Sophie said thank you but no, she wanted to get back. And she ought to check Sam was OK. She stepped into the hallway and called. Sam’s complaints echoed down from the loft: the spiders were bigger than the ones in the larder. She yelled for him to take care then went to the kitchen to wait for Suzie. She needed to say something to her even though it would most certainly be ignored. Eventually Suzie walked back in.
‘Suzie, are you sure you know what you’re doing?’
Suzie’s cheeks flushed. ‘I’m just doing what you did.’
‘Yes, but I did it in ignorance. You know he’s a bastard.’ Suzie checked the casserole, and said nothing. Sophie realised it was hopeless. ‘How are you? What are you, twenty weeks?’
‘Twenty-two. It’s a boy.’
‘Fantastic! So, more than halfway, then. The middle trimester’s much easier. I remember feeling really gorgeous.’
Suzie’s cheeks were now crimson. ‘Yes, I… Sophie, I know you think I’m crazy but I didn’t want to be on my own. I know his memory’s not as bad as he says it is, but while the police think he’s not fit to be charged then things can stay as they are. And day to day, when I’m here with him, I pretend everything’s going to be OK.’
Sophie sighed. Pretending everything’s going to be OK. That’s what most people do. But eventually it’s not OK. Eventually, there’s always a bitter end. That’s man’s fate. But, in the meantime, nobody lets inevitable fate interfere with the delusion that it’s all going to be OK. So, if Suzie wanted to delude herself, who was she to prevent her from doing so? ‘Suzie, you need to take care of yourself. Are you driving backwards and forwards each day?’
‘I come straight after work.’
‘Why don’t you stay over?’
Suzie’s cheeks became so red Sophie thought she might explode. ‘Jonah thinks it’s best if he’s on his own. You know what he can be like in the middle of the night. And the doctors say that he mustn’t get stressed or excited. So, sex is out of the question.’
Now it was Sophie’s turn to blush. Yes, she did remember what Jonah had been like in the middle of the night, and the memory made her want to run away and hide. Or, maybe, vomit. She heard Sam calling from the top of the stairs.
‘I’ll throw the first box down. Are you ready to catch?’
She ran into the hall. ‘Sam, they’re made of gla—’
He was just reaching the bottom stair. ‘Joking! I’ll take this round and come back for more. Let me in.’
Sophie returned to the conversation in the kitchen. ‘He was joking.’
‘He does that a lot, doesn’t he?’
Sophie smiled. Better than downright lying. She watched Suzie fussing over cutlery, folding napkins. Young and stupid and pregnant. And treading a very dangerous path. ‘Suzie, if you need to speak to someone, you know you can call me any time, right?’ The doorbell rang. Sophie hurried to open it but Jonah was already there, his tray under his arm, an empty glass in his hand. He said nothing, just opened the door then brushed past her into the kitchen.
‘He’s all charm, isn’t he?’ Sam whispered. ‘I’ll fetch the others then we’re out of here.’
‘I’ll get my things.’ Sophie wandered into the lounge and pulled on her coat but, as she lifted her bag from the coffee table, she noticed Jonah’s crossword book open beneath it. She picked it up and frowned, flicked through a few of the pages and her blood ran cold. The puzzle grids were mostly blank. But quite clear, running down or across on each of the grids was a string of letters: DON’T LET THEM HAVE IT. She threw down the book. Had Jonah gone completely mad? Was Suzie safe? She hurried back into the kitchen where Jonah was seated in his usual place at the head of the table, rubbing Suzie’s pregnant waist as she loaded casserole onto his plate. Sophie needed to get out of there straight away. Fortunately, at that very moment, Sam carried the ladder through the kitchen and said everything was ready to go. Suzie saw them out. Jonah barely acknowledged their leaving.
As he stepped down onto the pavement, Sam paused. ‘Suzie, you haven’t had any weird people calling, have you? Apart from us, that is?’
‘No, nobody. Not even the neighbours to ask how he is.’
As soon as Sam pulled away, Sophie told him about the puzzle book. He frowned. ‘Don’t let them have it? On all the pages? The guy needs to be sectioned.’
‘Do you think he’s gone mad?’
‘When was he ever not?’