After lying awake for most of the night and punching her pillow more times than she could remember, Lexi eventually got up and walked along the hallway to stand in the entrance of Isla’s room. With the night light beside her bed still switched on, Lexi watched her daughter sleep, and felt her heart constrict when Isla opened sleepy eyes and gave one of her biggest, most innocent smiles before once again snuggling into her pillow and falling back into a deep, natural sleep.
Giving an involuntary shiver, she wondered what the day would bring. How she’d cope and whether today would be the day she’d have no choice but to explain to Nate who she really was, trust him with her secrets and see how he’d react when she told him that someone was most probably going to try and kill her or their daughter, possibly both. It was like a death sentence hanging over her, and for a split second she thought of her father, of how he’d have felt all those years before, knowing he’d never taste freedom again, that once they’d locked that prison cell he’d never be free. And even though he’d done that to himself, she wondered if this was what it felt like. Would she ever be free of this feeling, the deep-seated anxiety? Shaking her head, she made her way down the stairs, couldn’t understand how or where she’d begin to explain, how she’d tell Nate that the last three years of his life had been a complete lie, and that in reality he had no idea who she was, who they were, how their lives would end up.
Padding slowly around the kitchen, she felt the need for just a little normality. Flicking on the kettle, she made some coffee. Then, with her mug in hand and her laptop on her knee, she sank into the warmth of the pillow-backed settee, pulled her big woollen blanket around her knees and began scrolling through the endless pages of news, just about all of which were talking about Jessica Graves, about her brutal death and of how similar her murder had been to the ones her husband had committed some twenty years before. Each article questioned the killer’s motive, whether it was a revenge killing or not, and if it were, why now? Why had Jessica Graves suddenly had to pay for what he’d done?
Taking in a deep breath, Lexi’s mind went from her mother back to Nate. It was more than obvious that he was up to something but right now wasn’t the time to think about it. Right now she had to focus on what was most important, on the fact that she could be in serious danger and that, just by association, so could Isla. As a reporter, she’d learned how to step back, how to read between the lines and how to take nothing at face value. Not unless it could be proven. And even if she could have proved it, what difference would it make to her tonight? Tonight, she had no intention of confronting Nate, or of making her situation worse than it already was. Today he wasn’t her biggest enemy or the person she feared the most. And even though she knew it made her come across as weak, she really didn’t care. Bringing Isla home had been more important than anything. And keeping her safe was imperative. Even if that meant she’d lost the opportunity of being alone with Nate. Of having the perfect chance to speak to him, but thoughts of Isla and holding her close had taken over her mind, and the thoughts of doing so had been the only thing that had managed to slow down the constant spiral of never-ending questions, accusations and self-doubt that had dominated her thoughts for every minute of the previous night.
Sitting back, she pushed the mystery phone call and random texter to the back of her mind. Hoped that Nate would mention them himself, tell her that it had been one of the lads from the site who’d changed his passcode, played a practical joke. It was what they did. The moment they all got together, ten grown men suddenly turned into two-year-olds, each one playing jokes on the other – a daily occurrence that had begun in kindergarten, continued through school and hadn’t stopped, not even in adulthood. Their whole day was a series of tricks, where the banter became sillier, their reactions more and more dangerous.
Pressing her lips tightly together in a satisfied pout, she stood up and went to the kitchen, where her laundry basket still sat, full of clean clothes all waiting to be ironed, and with her stomach clenched with nerves, she began sorting through the clothes. The anticipation of the day ahead was already too much. Talk in the office would all be about the copycat. About how he’d murdered. Why he’d murdered. All the gruesome details. Whether and when they thought he’d strike again. It was a conversation she didn’t really want to be a part of and the idea of debating who might be his next victim would be one conversation too many. After all, Jessica Graves had been murdered by someone emulating Lexi’s father – which continually brought her back to the same question about revenge… would her mother be the only victim?
With a huge sob, Lexi made her way back to the settee, grabbed her laptop and once again scrolled through the news, with a hundred thoughts that now prodded painfully at her mind. Someone somewhere had to know who had done this. There had to be a clue; there had to be something that would alert her to who it had been. Didn’t they always say that the villain returns to the scene, appears somewhere in the middle of the action to gloat in the aftermath of what they’d done? Would her mother’s killer do the same?
After what felt like an hour, she looked away from the screen, felt the need to distract herself and glanced at Isla’s toy mountain that needed sorting. Hastily, she began organising them, placing all of Isla’s favourite toys into one pile, all the ones she didn’t like or play with into another. After less than half an hour of sorting, she stood back and nodded. ‘You get to stay. The rest get to go,’ she said with a satisfied yawn, and began to head towards the kitchen but stopped at the bottom of the stairs, listening.
‘No, Daddy, no tickles…’ Isla’s voice giggled with delight and, hypnotised by the sound, Lexi took the steps one by one and stood in her bedroom doorway to see Nate sitting up against his pillows and Isla straddled across him, her hands rhythmically clapping against his, until as quickly as he could, Nate reached around her, poked and tickled her, watched her squirm, and then continued the game.
‘Hey, look who it is. It’s your mummy,’ he whispered as he leaned forward, buried his face in her soft golden curls and blew a loud, vibrating raspberry on her neck.
‘Ahh, don’t… Mummy, tell him…’ Making herself more comfortable, Isla wiggled on the spot. Grabbed at her daddy’s hands, held them in place. ‘Like this.’ Slowly, she once again clapped her hands against his. ‘Clap, again…’
Moving forward, Lexi dropped her dressing gown to the floor, slipped into the bed beside them, felt the need to hold her family close, to enjoy the moment. ‘I see you have some company,’ she whispered to Nate, whose eyes never once left those of his daughter, the look of love on his face more than clear to see.
‘Well, I just kind of turned over and there she was. My very own little bedbug.’ Again, his fingers tickled a giggling Isla, who writhed on the spot and, with mischief on her face, she fell into the space between them, curled herself into a ball, tucked her head under her daddy’s chin and placed a thumb firmly in her mouth.
Staring, Lexi framed the picture of them both in her mind. Felt suddenly aware that everything was about to change, that once the news was broadcast, her secret was likely to come out and Nate would find out who she really was, resent her for not having told him sooner. Slowly, she ran a hand down Nate’s bare chest, felt the solid muscle beneath her fingers, felt almost afraid to touch him as the memories filled her mind and the tears sprung to her eyes.
‘Hey, what’s wrong?’ He lifted a hand to her chin, placed a soft, gentle kiss on her lips.
‘Oh, I’m fine,’ she lied. ‘I was just thinking how beautiful this is, all of us together, happy.’ The words tumbled from her mouth. ‘I… I love you both so much.’ Choking back the words, Lexi jumped from the bed. She didn’t want him to see her cry, didn’t want to go through the explanation, not yet. She grabbed at her dressing gown. ‘Are you ready for some breakfast? I’ll make some, shall I?’ She tried to smile but turned away to hide her tears.
Wriggling free of her daddy’s arms, Isla set off down the hallway. ‘Come on, Mummy, I want breakfast, and Agafa…’ she shouted as she ran, ‘Agafa, come get breakfast.’
Laughing, Lexi kneeled back on the bed, leaned into Nate, who quickly pulled her towards him. His lips grazed her forehead; she felt the strength in his arms as he wrapped them around her. ‘You were up a bit early, weren’t you? I turned over, expecting you to be there, but you were gone. I wondered what was wrong?’
‘Oh, nothing.’ Lexi continued the lie. ‘I couldn’t sleep, made a start on sorting Isla’s toys out. There’s a huge pile you could take to the charity shop. She never plays with them and, to be honest, I doubt she’d even miss them and we… we have to make room for the Christmas tree.’ She prised herself out of his arms, went to follow her daughter down the hallway. Looked down the stairs where she could hear Isla rattling the box of kitten treats, her normal morning routine of feeding the cat before she’d eat breakfast herself. ‘Did you see Agatha?’
Shaking his head, Nate leaned back against his pillows, linked his hands behind his head. Smiled. ‘I’ll get up in a minute. Look for her. She’s probably fast asleep on someone’s bed.’ He raised an eyebrow as Isla ran into the room, noisily shaking the box of treats.
‘Ag… Agafa, come on. Treats.’ Looking around the room, her bottom lip protruded, her eyes filled with tears and she turned to Lexi with a hopeful glance. ‘Mummy, where’s Agafa? Why didn’t she come?’