All Fall Down: A gripping psychological thriller with a twist that will take your breath away (30 page)

I
t took
Wendy a long time to get her feelings in order. Along with the relief, the elation at having survived, there was a seething maelstrom of anger, pain, anxiety and grief. And although she’d spent a lot of time reassuring their family, friends and colleagues that they had suffered no lasting damage, she wasn’t completely sure it was true. She was all too aware of the potential for psychological trauma, the effects of which might take months or years to become apparent.

But for now, all things considered, they were doing remarkably well. Despite an array of colourful bruises, Evan’s normally buoyant mood had been restored almost immediately, thanks to Livvy’s decision to curtail her holiday in Cyprus. She was back home by Wednesday, and the two of them were soon holed up in the media-free sanctuary of her parents’ home.

After a brief infection scare, Josh was released from hospital on Tuesday morning and spent most of the week resting his bruised ribs and injured leg, playing on the Xbox that they’d brought from home. He seemed blithely untroubled by the fear of prosecution, helped perhaps by the fact that his friend Ruby had cleared his flat of any contraband. She paid Josh a visit on Thursday afternoon, and the door to his hotel room stayed resolutely shut for several hours.

On the following day came confirmation that no action would be taken against him, though DS McIlroy warned that the police would take a very dim view if he were to be found smuggling in future.

‘My criminal career is behind me,’ Josh was able to promise the detective, with a later aside to his parents: ‘Unless I get a job in the City, of course.’

Georgia, who heeded their advice to stay offline, developed a fondness for the hotel’s modest gym, and spent hours shedding calories on the cross-trainer. The exercise seemed to have a beneficial effect on her mood, though whenever Wendy attempted to talk through the events of the previous weekend, she reverted to the sullen, quick-tempered teenager that they knew so well.

Between them, Wendy and Rob agreed that this was simply her way of dealing with it. When the family liaison officer from Hampshire police suggested that they should persuade her to consider counselling, Wendy said, ‘We won’t rule it out, but right now it’s far more important that we give her a strong, supportive home environment.’

And yes
, she’d thought when she caught Rob raising his eyebrows,
I am aware of the irony in that statement
.

The matter of their relationship was another subject for a later date. Several times Wendy had felt certain Rob was about to broach it, only for him to back away. In many of their conversations they tiptoed around the issue, causing her to wonder if Rob had sensed what was different.

Could he tell that Wendy had changed her mind?

More importantly, why was she so reluctant to admit it?

W
hile staying
in Winchester they had a visit from DI Powell, as well as an emotional reunion with Dawn Avery. Dawn hugged them so closely that they could feel the baby moving, and tearfully lamented the fact that she hadn’t acted on their concerns.

‘The girl, Lara, talking her way into the house, and the smell of BO – and I basically said it was your imagination.’

‘None of us knew the significance at the time,’ Rob pointed out. ‘I’m the one who’s to blame, for not telling you about the trainer.’

He was still wracked with guilt about that, Wendy knew, so she couldn’t bring herself to criticise him, as painful as it was to know he’d kept it secret from her.

‘I panicked,’ he admitted to Dawn. ‘I’d only just found it when you turned up, and ridiculous as it sounds now, I was scared it might put me in the frame for the man’s death.’

Ultimately, however, they were agreed that nothing they’d done – or had failed to do – would have made much difference. Gabriel and his followers might simply have waited out a short, fruitless investigation, then launched their attack on another occasion.

Thanks to the testimony from Milo and Lara, a picture was emerging of life within Gabriel’s vicious little sect, which the media had gleefully likened to the cults led by Charles Manson, David Koresh and others.

‘The methods he used are straight out of the Twisted Messiah’s Handbook,’ Powell said. ‘Build ’em up and knock ’em down. Keep them insecure, play one off against another. All four of them were outcasts in some form or another, all nursing grudges against families, workmates – or just humanity in general.’

Rob said, ‘I can’t get my head round the idea that he managed to take basically law-abiding people and turn them into torturers and killers.’

Powell shrugged. ‘In the right conditions you can manipulate people into doing just about anything – plenty of psychological experiments have proved that.’

Wendy had to agree. ‘I’ve known of pleasant but vulnerable young mums who’d meet a new boyfriend, and within a few months they’re turning a blind eye to all manner of neglect and abuse of their child.’

DI Powell also had advice on handling the media. ‘You have a choice. Option one is to accept the intrusion, speak to the papers, appear on TV and radio. If you come over well – and I’m sure you would – you’ll have agents fighting to sign you up, there’ll be publishers offering book deals, and from then on it’s life in the goldfish bowl. . .’

‘We’re not the bloody Kardashians,’ Rob muttered.

‘How did I know you’d say that?’ Her eyes twinkled. ‘Option two is say nothing. Refuse every request. Ignore every tiny thing they print, every online comment, no matter how scurrilous or unfair. Just
ignore
,
ignore
,
ignore
.’ Punching her open palm three times to make the point. ‘It won’t be easy, and it might take a while, but in time they
will
go away.’

S
o that was
what they had done, and at last there were signs that it was working – thanks in part to the competing distraction of the upcoming EU referendum, coverage of which was growing increasingly hysterical.

One aspect of the public reaction that Wendy found both touching and unsettling was the number of strangers who sent cards, as well as gifts ranging from pot plants and bouquets to various religious tracts and, bizarrely, a tin of sweetcorn. Among the messages there was one from Kevin Burroughs, passing on his son’s condolences. Wendy had no idea whether Mark Burroughs had genuinely spoken to his father on the matter, but either way she decided that Georgia didn’t need to be troubled with this information.

On Saturday Wendy decided to make her first excursion into town, for a little shopping. She’d built it up in her mind to be some kind of epic ordeal, but the reality was gloriously mundane. Those who knew her nodded and said hello: some looked faintly embarrassed as they did so, others more sympathetic; but no one accosted her, no one asked awkward questions or pressed for details.

Could it really be, she thought as she walked home, that life was returning to normal?

Maybe that was a little premature. At some point there would still be a trial to endure, and there was no telling what impact that could have. As yet, the matter of Kyle’s parentage had not come to light, and they continued to live on tenterhooks that his claim would reach the media.

Rob had insisted that, as far as he could recall, he had dated very sparingly during their brief separation, and probably not at all in the June, when Kyle was likely to have been conceived.

‘My heart wasn’t in it, I realised that quite early on.’

She took his hand. ‘Listen, you don’t have to justify anything. It was a mutual decision to take a break, and when we got back together we agreed not to dwell upon what had happened in that time. As far as I’m concerned, that still applies.’

It didn’t matter that there was a small, doubting voice in her head –
Can you completely rule out the possibility that Kyle is his son?
– because Wendy had no choice but to avoid taking the conversation too far along this route.

She was impressed that Rob had never asked who, if anyone,
she
had seen during their time apart, and thank goodness he hadn’t. Wendy thought it might destroy her to admit to the stupid, drunken one-night stand that she’d had with Rob’s older brother, Paul – or the fact that it had led to the most agonising dilemma of her life. Although they’d used a condom, her next period had been two weeks late, and Wendy had experienced many of the tiny, innocuous symptoms which later – with the twins – she recognised as the signs of pregnancy.

Having split up from Rob precisely because of the failure to conceive, every minute of those two weeks had been the most exquisite form of torture imaginable – on a scale that even sadists like Kyle or Gabriel couldn’t have matched.

In the years after, she had sometimes wondered if the decision to adopt Georgia hadn’t been some misguided act of contrition on her part. Wendy knew that was deeply unfair to Georgia herself, and just one of the reasons why she had never dared to breathe a word of it to anyone.

Turning into Russell Drive, she was glad to put such thoughts aside, though the sight of Dawn Avery’s car sparked a twinge of unease. That, perhaps, was a minor example of the lasting damage – that Dawn was no longer just a friend stopping by for coffee and a chat.

B
y the weekend
, Rob was itching to get life back on track. Physically, he wasn’t completely recovered, but after another urine test, which had found no trace of blood, he was pronounced to be on the mend. The severe headaches had subsided, too, and although he still felt more tired than usual, he suspected that was partly due to inactivity and stodgy hotel food.

It was a relief to get back home, even if the house felt oddly unfamiliar at first. Rob put that down to the subtle rearrangement of furniture by the forensics team, who had searched the house for evidence of Kyle’s intrusion.

On Saturday afternoon Rob was trawling through his emails when Dawn Avery turned up. Tim was cycling around Hayling Island, she said. ‘But I wouldn’t have wanted him here, to be honest – he’d only say something inappropriate.’

Rob grinned, nervously. ‘Wendy’s in town. She shouldn’t be too long.’

‘Fine. Though you might prefer to discuss this on your own.’

‘Oh?’ He gave a fake little laugh at her ominous tone, and ushered her into the study.

‘Back to the grind already, on a day like this?’ she remarked.

‘Afraid so.’ He was about to throw in that corny line –
No rest for the wicked
– but changed his mind.

It was a beautiful day. Evan and Livvy had gone to the beach at West Wittering, while Josh and Georgia were in the garden, Josh reading something for next year’s course, Georgia watching a Netflix show on her iPad.

Dawn told him how she’d been assigned the task of researching Kyle’s background in the hope of unearthing clues as to his present whereabouts. ‘I’ve been liaising with Toronto police, and I’ve spoken to his mother, Julie Jacques – Julie Bridger, as she is now.’

Rob felt as though his lungs were being compressed by an unseen force. ‘Find anything useful?’

‘Not really. There’s a watch on the ports and airports, but his mum’s certain that he won’t try returning to Canada.’ She hesitated. ‘On the matter of Kyle’s allegations, she completely denied having identified you, though I suspect she was worried about being implicated in anything. After all, something must have set him off in your direction. . .’

Invited to agree, Rob only shrugged. ‘Maybe.’ If pressed, he would argue that they were probably selected at random, with the reason fabricated by Kyle after the fact.

‘What she has admitted is that she went out with several men during the summer that Kyle was conceived, and says she honestly doesn’t know – or care – which one was the father.’ Dawn regarded him for a moment, her tongue prodding beneath her upper lip, as if to dislodge something. ‘Then I asked about you. She said she’d seen your photographs online and didn’t recognise you at all.’

Rob nodded, cautiously. ‘Good.’

‘It is. Except the vibe I was getting from her. . . I hate to ask this, but do you think you could. . .?’ She rummaged in her handbag and brought out her phone. ‘Just take a look at these photos and tell me if you recognise her?’

‘This is Julie Jacques?’

Dawn nodded. ‘Bear in mind she’ll be twenty years older here than when you knew her –
if
this is the girl you dated. She claims she hasn’t kept any photos from that time.’

‘Might be true,’ Rob said, and found himself thinking of Georgia. ‘Not everyone wants to be reminded of their past.’

The front door opened as he took the phone and he jumped, almost dropping it.

‘In here,’ he called, and was glad that Dawn’s attention was diverted for a moment while he studied the pictures.
Just in case
, he thought, because his hands were visibly trembling.

W
endy opened
the front door and was called into the study by Rob. He was leaning against his desk, holding a phone, while Dawn stood a couple of feet away, one hand resting on her baby bump. As she greeted Dawn, she heard Rob saying, ‘Doesn’t look familiar.’

‘What’s this?’ Wendy asked, and while Dawn explained the background to her visit, Rob was swiping the screen back and forth.

Finally he shook his head, passed the phone to Wendy and said, ‘Nope, don’t know her.’

Wendy studied the pictures, which had been taken by a lake somewhere. Kyle’s mother was an attractive, well-groomed woman who’d clearly stayed in shape, and therefore probably hadn’t changed a great deal over the years. If Rob had gone out with her – and Wendy could see why he’d have wanted to – he would surely recognise her.

But Dawn couldn’t quite disguise a hint of scepticism. Turning her gaze from Wendy to Rob, she said, ‘I take it you do remember what your previous girlfriends looked like?’

‘The serious ones, yes. But not necessarily girls I only saw once or twice.’

‘Really? I think I’d still recognise the boy I kissed when I was twelve.’

With a broad smile, Wendy cut in: ‘We’d all like to think that, but it’s scary just how much you forget. There are holidays from my teens that I can’t recall at all, school friends who’ve popped up on Facebook just this week and I have no recollection of them.’

Rob looked grateful for her intervention. ‘It’s because you’re a lot younger than us, Dawn. Just wait till the brain cells start dying off, and you’ll see what we mean.’

On learning that Rob hadn’t offered refreshments, Wendy suggested they move to the kitchen. Dawn accepted a cup of tea, and updated them on some other developments.

‘The toxicology reports made for an interesting read. Turns out Kyle wasn’t lying about that, at least.’

‘What?’ Wendy asked.

‘Gabriel had a heart attack, but it was induced. With poison.’

S
he explained
that the cult leader had been injected with a lethal dose of potassium chloride – the very chemical used to carry out the death penalty in the United States. There were signs that other drugs had been used over a period of months, increasing his heart rate and blood pressure, pushing him into a more vulnerable state.

‘Of course, he may have taken those himself, voluntarily,’ Dawn pointed out. On the Saturday night, the group had been passing round what Milo and Lara believed to be amphetamines, sourced by Kyle. But tests had revealed that the pills could have contained only small amounts of the stimulant, whereas the hot drinks Kyle had made in the early hours had been laced with sedatives.

‘That’s why they woke so late on Sunday?’ Wendy asked.

Dawn nodded. ‘He wanted them all out cold, so he could deal with Gabriel, then pretend to be none the wiser when Lara raised the alarm.’

‘Jesus,’ Rob muttered. ‘So clearly Gabriel’s mind control stuff didn’t work on Kyle.’

‘Well, we may never know if he was genuinely in thrall to Gabriel at the start, or if he just faked it. But it’s clear from what Milo and Lara have said that there’s no way Kyle could have attracted his own followers. It was, you have to say, a brilliantly devious strategy on his part to join Gabriel’s group, then gradually steer them towards his own objectives.’

Destroying us
, Rob thought, and he was reminded that a man as driven as Kyle was unlikely to let it go now.

Having blushed slightly at her use of the word ‘brilliant’ to describe Kyle, Dawn said, ‘This sounds so counter intuitive, but Shahid and I were discussing it, and we realised that what probably kept you all alive was the fact that they’d got hold of a firearm.’

‘What?’ Wendy exclaimed, and Rob said, ‘How do you work that out?’

‘Their plan was to keep control by separating Georgia from the rest of you, and threaten her with violence if anyone misbehaved. We know they were armed with other weapons, but nothing that carries the absolute power of a gun. . .’

Rob was nodding now. ‘You think we’d have taken them on?’

‘That, or tried to escape. Either way, you might have paid a very heavy price. We know they wouldn’t have hesitated to use knives – Kyle in particular.’ Dawn shivered. ‘One look at Ilsa’s body and you can see exactly what he’s capable of.’

As she spoke, Rob felt Wendy’s gaze shift in his direction, and he said quickly, ‘I don’t think it does any good to dwell on that, do you?’

Dawn raised her hands in apology. ‘No, I’m sorry.’ She grinned. ‘Who needs Tim, when I keep putting my foot in it?’

O
nce she had gone
, and Wendy had said a quick hello to Georgia and Josh, she asked Rob if they could return to the study to talk. ‘I need to know what’s wrong.’

‘What do you mean?’

She made sure the door was shut, then said, ‘I don’t want to play games, and it might well be that you’ve been saying nothing for my benefit. But I think something happened, when you went after Kyle.’

She could tell at once that she was on the right track. She held his gaze until he nodded, reluctantly, and said, ‘He threatened me. Said that one day he’ll come back and target us.’

‘Did you tell the police?’

‘There’s nothing they can do about it—’

‘But it’s more lies, Rob!’ She hadn’t meant to shout, or get upset. ‘After all the problems it caused us last time.’

‘Look, it won’t help anyone, and I didn’t want word getting back to you and the kids.’

‘But they’re at risk, they need to know—’

‘Why? So they end up living in fear all their lives? I bet that’s exactly why he said it, not because he has any intention of carrying it out.’

She brooded on that, and had to admit he was probably right. ‘So you haven’t warned Georgia, then?’

He responded with a pantomime frown. ‘No. Why?’

‘I’m sure I’ve noticed a sort of. . . secretive atmosphere lately.’

‘Really? I wouldn’t say that – but I could warn her, if you think that’s best?’

Wendy smiled. He’d been given the perfect opportunity to come clean, and yet he was determined to say nothing. Without quite knowing why, she found herself backing away from a confrontation.

‘Not yet,’ she said. ‘Let’s have a think about it first.’

That night the six of them – Livvy was here with Evan – enjoyed a delicious takeaway curry and watched a movie together, exactly as they had done on so many occasions in the innocent world of their pre-Kyle existence. Wendy had only a couple of glasses of wine, but by eleven o’clock she was struggling to keep her eyes open.

Often Rob stayed up later at the weekends, but this evening he climbed the stairs just a few minutes after Wendy. ‘I’ve been looking forward to this,’ he murmured – and then, as if he thought she’d misinterpreted, he added: ‘Compared to that hotel bed, I mean.’

‘Absolutely,’ she said.

It was a warm night, barely requiring a duvet, but Wendy snuggled beneath it all the same. She lay on her back, suddenly uneasy, not wanting to turn away but unable to face him.
Why is this so difficult?
she wondered.

During the meal they’d all started talking about a holiday – ‘a proper holiday,’ as Evan put it; going abroad to somewhere hot and relaxing and anonymous, a place where no one knew who they were or what they had been through.

‘We probably should look into it,’ Rob said now. ‘But not for a couple of weeks, till I’ve got sorted at work.’

Wendy smiled. How many times had she heard that?

‘I’ll see how the rota looks at my place,’ she said.

He grunted agreement, then lay in silence for a minute.

‘So,’ he said at last, ‘we never did carry on with that conversation up in Norfolk.’

‘No. We didn’t.’

‘Well. . .’ He sighed. ‘If we’re getting back to normal. . . that means doing it soon.’

‘Mm.’ Her head was a mess of conflicting emotions. She knew that Rob was keeping something from her, and that made it harder to be truthful with him, to admit that she wanted to put the decision on hold.

Then, in an act of daring rebellion, he reached for her hand, his fingertips brushing against her stomach. Wendy gasped and turned towards him, silencing his tiny exclamation with a kiss, and another kiss, and then a whisper: ‘No more talking.’

The announcement could wait.

The decision could wait.

The future could wait.