Sophie lay awake for some time, staring up at the ceiling, a screen for the memories of that afternoon, particularly the clear image she had of Bald Man’s half-head filled with mulched brain. And the more she tried to sleep, the more vivid the memories became, each one accompanied by a burst of fear and panic that took her breath away. When the palpitations became unmanageable, she got up and walked round to help herself to a Valium, thought of the new baby and staggered back to her side of the bed, unmedicated and resigned to watching the ceiling until daybreak. But she must have fallen asleep because suddenly the sun was forcing her awake. Sam was sitting on the edge of the bed, offering her a mug of tea. She sat up and took a moment to remember.
‘Where’s Laura?’
‘With Katie. How’s your head?’
‘It feels like I’ve had amateur dental work.’ She took the mug. ‘How’s your arm?’
‘It didn’t fall off in the night. So, it’ll probably be OK.’
‘What time is it?’
‘Just after ten. We thought we’d let you have a lie-in.’ He touched her leg through the duvet. ‘Soph, did you tell me something? As I was falling asleep? Or did I dream it?’
‘Dream what?’
‘I was just passing out and I…’
‘I told you that I think I’m pregnant.’
Sam stared at her. ‘What does the think bit of that mean?’
‘It means I’m pregnant. I wasn’t sure but yesterday before lunch I did the test and then I was. Then everything happened and there wasn’t any chance to tell you. Sometimes the pill doesn’t work. That’s what happened last time. Are you cross?’
‘Cross? No, of course I’m not cross. I… look, Soph, I’ll leave my job, my NCA job. And the police. I’ll just be an English teacher. I’d prefer that anyway, trying to force people to care about books. We won’t have enough money to go on holiday ever but… Sophie, I’ll never lie to you again. I am the father, right? I mean, Jonah’s been out of the picture for months and…’
‘And unless I’m an armadillo or a fruit bat or, if I remember correctly, a kangaroo, and I’m able to pause implantation, then yes, you are the father.’ She touched his arm. ‘Sam, it’s your baby, OK?’
‘OK. When do we tell people?’
‘When we’re sure.’
‘I thought you were sure.’
‘I am.’
‘Right. Sophie logic. Katie said do you want her to bring you some breakfast?’
‘No, but I’d like someone to bring me Laura so I can know she’s OK.’
Over a ham and cold turkey lunch, everybody avoided mentioning the horrors of the previous day, which unfortunately failed to prevent Sophie from constantly mulling them over in her mind. So, as soon as lunch had been cleared away, she excused herself and took Laura up for her afternoon nap and the promise of solitude. Sam knew better than to let her be alone.
‘Is she asleep?’
Sophie turned from observing the driveway. ‘She’s playing with Clown-face.’
‘Are you feeling all right?’
‘I’m fine. Every five minutes or so my stomach churns in my throat but I’m getting used to it. I think I might stay up here for a while. Give them some time to themselves.’
‘And where do I fit into that plan?’ Sophie tried to answer but her throat was aching too much to allow further conversation. Sam put his good arm around her. ‘Soph, we’re all OK.’
‘But…’ She grappled the words into sentences. ‘Whatever Jesse says, this has all been my fault. I put all their lives in danger. Their lives are probably still in danger.’
‘Nobody blames you for yesterday. Come downstairs. Everyone’s worried about you.’
There was a gentle tap-tap. ‘It’s me,’ said Katie. ‘Is it safe to come in?’
Sam walked over and opened the door. ‘Safe as houses.’
‘Very funny. Soph, the boys want you to watch Home Alone with them. Because it’s about baddies breaking into a house and getting bashed up. Barbara’s making popcorn. Just in case anyone has a small empty space in their spare stomach.’ She frowned. ‘Are you OK?’
Sophie wiped her face on her sleeve. ‘Yeh. Could you ask them to give me twenty minutes? I ought to cover up the blotches on my face.’
‘I’ll tell them they have to wait until you’re unblotched. Do you fancy a coffee?’
‘No thanks.’
Katie folded her arms. ‘No coffee? And you had hardly any of Jesse’s finest Burgundy at lunch. Are you demented or pregnant?’
‘Witch,’ whispered Sam.
She gaped at him. ‘Good God, Sophie, are you pregnant?’
Sophie considered her reply. ‘Probably.’
‘Great! Hurry up and sort your face out. I’m going down to break the news.’
Sam waited and, after not much time at all, Sophie emerged from the bathroom looking and feeling a lot better. But there were things she needed to get straight. ‘Sam, you said you only realised you’d already met Jonah when you saw that picture of him at Katie’s wedding and you recognised him from when he was working at the college. But, if you’d been watching my house you must have seen him loads of times, coming and going.’
Sam gave a tired sigh. ‘It was July. August. Whenever I saw him he was wearing sunglasses. And at that point we didn’t have a decent photo of him. I just didn’t recognise him. Sophie, I am NOT lying to you any more. You have to stop doubting me.’
‘Yes. Because that would be unreasonable, wouldn’t it? Tell me what you’ve been doing at the uni for the last couple of years, pretending to be an English lecturer. Were you checking out your cybercrime and just waiting for Jonah to blunder into view? And how come you know all that literature stuff? Did they hammer it all into you at Undercover Academy.’
‘Actually, Ms Denham, I have a Masters in English Literature. I had been studying for my doctorate but, just before he died, my father… who was a senior army officer, expressed his and my mother’s deep regrets that, unlike my brother, I had chosen a namby-pamby career. So, ever willing to please, I abandoned academia and became a cop. OK?’ Sam pushed his wrong hand through his hair. ‘And as far as my part-time teaching post is concerned, to begin with I was checking out foreign students. And some of the staff. Institutes of higher education have traditionally been regarded as hotbeds of sedition. These days, those worries extend to terrorism. We’d had a heads up about possible links with Syria. The introduction into the UK of foreign nationals posing as student family members. It’s not usual for an officer as senior as myself, a detective inspector, to be assigned to undercover work but there was not a big choice of lower-ranking personnel able to take on an academic post. Then I got pulled back into organised crime, human trafficking. And became a senior investigator with the National Crime Agency. And last year Robert Perrin really did land on my patch.’ He sighed. ‘Is there anything else bothering you?’
‘Yes. Why did you let me imagine Jonah’s wife was called Heidi when you already knew she was called Rosemary?’
‘Because I couldn’t be sure that wasn’t what he called her. It didn’t seem likely that there was a third woman in the equation. Then I discovered that mobile number was registered to someone living in Bridport. Ella Roberts. Turned out to be Suzie’s mother. Is there anything else?’
‘Yes, there is… When we first made love, were you still checking me out?’
‘No, of course not. I… I was hopelessly attracted to you.’
‘So, tell me, Officer DI-SI Sam, how can I ever really believe that?’
‘I can’t answer that, Soph. All I can do is promise you it’s true.’
‘That’s the problem, isn’t it? How can anybody believe anything they’re told? You checked Jonah’s phones behind my back, didn’t you? It’s why you stayed with me? So you could find out more about Jonah.’
Sam just shook his head. ‘That might have been true to start off with but, as soon as I got to know you, everything changed. Sophie, there are no more secrets.’
‘You can’t write all this off as secrets, Sam. Secrets are things you keep to yourself. Lies are what you tell. But I’m as much to blame as anyone. Because I was stupid enough to believe you.’ She watched him sit down on the bed as if that last statement had drained the energy he needed to stand. She didn’t want that to be happening. ‘But, like I said, we need to leave those lies in the past.’
‘OK. But, Soph, I’ve got to ask you not to mention my work with the NCA, or what happened yesterday, to anyone outside of this house. Can you promise me that?’
‘You want me to promise not to tell the truth?’
‘I just want you to promise to be economical with it.’
‘Right. Economical. Shall we go and watch Kevin beat up the baddies?’