27
Elise
In the farm cottage, Niamh and I are still in limbo waiting for one of the lawyers to get back to me when my mobile buzzes.
“Elise? It’s DS May. I thought you’d want to know that we’ve arrested your husband. I’ll let you know more in due course, but I wanted you to be the first to hear.”
My heart lifts. “Does this mean we can go home?”
“I’m afraid not.” DS May hesitates. “We’re going to have to search your house. I’m sorry about all this.” She pauses again. “I’ll stop over later on and fill you in on everything.”
As the call ends, I stare in disbelief at my phone, then turn to Niamh. “The police have arrested your father. That was DS May. She didn’t say why.”
“So we can go home?” Niamh looks hopeful.
“Not yet.” I look at her. “The police have to search the house, apparently. She’ll come by later to let us know what’s happening.”
The color drains from Niamh’s face.
“What’s wrong, Niamh?”
She shakes her head. “Nothing.”
“Are you sure?”
She’s silent. Then she says, “I have some of Dylan’s stuff, that’s all. They won’t take it, will they?”
I frown at her, wondering how I hadn’t come across it. “What kind of stuff?”
“Just things he wrote. Some of his drawings. Photos.”
“It’s your father’s stuff they’ll go through. I can’t imagine the police will want to look through your things.” I look at Niamh more closely, taking in her anxious look. “Are you alright?”
She nods, but before I can ask her more, my phone buzzes again with an unfamiliar number. “I need to get this. It could be one of the lawyers.” I answer the call, frowning as I watch Niamh slip upstairs.
* * *
An hour on the phone to Alison Wantley, the divorce lawyer, leaves me fortified. That I have an idea of where I stand and what to expect going forward gives me new strength. But also, now that Andrew’s being held by the police, Niamh and I no longer have to stay in hiding.
“You could go back to school tomorrow.” I look at Niamh. “I have an appointment to see a lawyer in the morning. It won’t be long before things can get back to normal.” I’m trying to reassure her, but both of us know that normal doesn’t exist anymore; that time is needed to undo the damage inflicted by Andrew.
She nods, then suddenly remembers something. “I haven’t got any of my school stuff.”
“I didn’t even think about that.” I hadn’t packed her uniform or any of her books. “I’ll call DS May. Hopefully, they’ll let us collect it.”
* * *
Later that afternoon, the farmer, Chris, raises a hand as we get in the car. As we drive home to Abingworth, I realize the weight of what was hanging over me. For a brief moment, I can almost pretend nothing’s happened, but the feeling doesn’t last. When we turn into the drive, several police cars are parked there, including a white van. When we walk in, a man carrying Andrew’s computer passes us on his way out.
Niamh turns to me in horror. “They won’t want mine, will they?”
“I don’t know. I shouldn’t think so. Your father never used it, did he?” Then Sergeant Collins comes toward us. “Mrs. Buckley? Niamh? The DS said you needed to pick up your school uniform. I’m really sorry about all this.” She glances back toward the house. “Niamh? I’m afraid I need to go with you. Is that OK?” She speaks as if we have a choice, but I know we don’t.
Coming here has brought back too many unpleasant memories. “I’ll stay here.” As I watch them disappear inside, it’s as if I’m standing outside someone else’s house. Several policemen go to and fro carrying what I imagine to be the contents of Andrew’s desk. Then a light goes on upstairs, in our bedroom, where no doubt the police will be going through my and Andrew’s clothes. All this, and I still don’t know why, though I’m guessing DS May will explain when she comes to see us.
A few minutes later, Niamh comes back with Sergeant Collins, carrying an armful of clothes and her school bag. Without speaking, she climbs into the car.
“Let’s go.” Putting the car into reverse, I turn it around, not wanting to linger a moment longer than necessary. In the short time we’ve been away, an invisible line has been drawn between the past and the future, one we’ve crossed so that we can go forward. I can no more imagine living here than I can imagine being with Andrew. As we drive away, the realization hits me. I’ve no desire to ever come back.
* * *
The next morning I drive Niamh to school, then go to my meeting with Alison Wantley, who’s going to start divorce proceedings. In the safety of her office, with a view onto a quiet street in the heart of Chichester, I start to tell her everything about my marriage. It’s painful. It’s also cathartic. After, I walk around the town center, doing a bit of shopping and looking in the windows of estate agents, before I drive back to the farm. For the first time in years, I feel a tentative sense of hope. I’d never loved living in Abingworth. I miss nothing about village life, nor have I any desire to bump into familiar faces. None of those people really care. Even Sophie hasn’t contacted me. All these years of living there and I know no one will miss me, even slightly.
When I get back to the cottage, I start to tidy away the breakfast things, then go upstairs, throwing open windows, picking up Niamh’s discarded clothes on the floor of her bedroom. Underneath them, I find an envelope.