Behind Closed Doors: The gripping debut thriller everyone is raving about (19 page)

‘Well, we really must be off,’ I say to Janice instead. I give Millie a last hug. ‘You can think about what dress you’d like to wear to the party and tell me when I see you next week,’ I tell her, hoping to cheer her up.

‘What time would you like us to arrive on the ninth?’ Janice asks.

‘Around one?’ I say, looking at Jack for confirmation.

He shakes his head. ‘The earlier the better, I think. Besides, I can’t wait to show Millie her room. So why don’t we say twelve-thirty?’

‘Lovely,’ Janice smiles.

In the car on the way home, I brace myself for whatever is to come. Jack doesn’t say anything for a while, perhaps because he knows that the anticipation of his anger is sometimes, but not always, worse than the event. I tell myself that I can’t afford to let fear muddle my thinking and concentrate instead on finding a way of deflecting his fury. The best way, I decide, is to make him think I’ve given up, that there is no hope left and I take comfort from the thought that my lethargy over the last few months, which I’d been berating myself for, might actually have served me well, as a slide into total apathy won’t seem so contrived.

‘I hope you realise that you’ve made everything much worse for yourself by inviting Janice along,’ he says when he feels he’s let me sweat enough.

‘The reason I invited Janice along is so that she’ll be able to report back to Mrs Goodrich that our beautiful house is perfect for Millie,’ I say tiredly. ‘Do you honestly
think that the school where Millie has lived for the last seven years is going to wave goodbye to her without checking up on where she’s going?’

He nods approvingly. ‘That’s very noble of you. But now I have to ask myself why you should choose to be noble, given the circumstances.’

‘Because I suppose I’ve accepted that there’s nothing I can do to prevent the inevitable,’ I say quietly. ‘I think I realised it long ago, actually.’ I let a sob choke my voice. ‘For a while, I honestly thought that I would be able to find a way out. And I tried; I tried so hard. But you’ve always been one step ahead of me.’

‘I’m glad you’ve realised it,’ he says. ‘Although I must admit that I’ve missed your futile attempts to escape from me. They were amusing, if nothing else.’

The small glow of satisfaction I feel at having out-manoeuvred Jack is precious. It gives me the confidence that I can do it again, that I can turn a bad situation around and turn a negative into a positive. I don’t quite know where I’m going to find the positive in Millie coming to the house for lunch, but at least it is only lunch. Her inevitable delight when she sees the house will be hard enough to bear during the few hours she’ll spend with us. To have to endure it for any longer when I know what Jack has in store for her, and when I don’t know if I’m going to be able to find the solution that I promised her, is unimaginable.

My throbbing toes make me want to ease my shoe off but I don’t dare for fear I won’t be able to slip it
back on easily when we arrive at the house. In the light of her imminent visit, the pills Millie gave me take on a new importance. I had planned to leave them safely tucked into the toe of my shoe, until the time came when I could use them, but I no longer have time for such luxuries. If I am ever to use them, I need to get them into my bedroom, where they will be more easily accessible. But with Jack watching my every move, it’s going to be almost impossible.

I use the rest of the journey to consider what I can do. The only way the pills are going to be of any use to me is if I manage to get enough of them into Jack to render him unconscious. But if getting them into my bedroom seems impossible, administering them to him seems even more so. I tell myself that I can’t afford to look that far ahead, that all I can do is take one step at a time, and concentrate instead on the present.

We arrive at the house and, as we’re taking off our coats, the phone starts ringing. Jack answers it, as he always does, while I wait obediently, as I always do. It would be no use me carrying on up the stairs to try to take the pills from my shoe because Jack would simply follow me.

‘She’s fine today, thank you, Esther,’ I hear him say and, after a moment of puzzlement, the events of the previous evening come flooding back and I realise Esther is phoning to see how I am. He pauses a moment. ‘Yes, we’ve just walked in the door, actually. We took Millie
out for lunch.’ Another pause. ‘I’ll tell Grace you called. Oh, of course, I’ll pass her to you.’

I don’t show my surprise when Jack hands me the phone, but the fact is I am surprised, as he normally tells anyone who asks to speak to me that I’m unavailable. But I suppose that as he’s told Esther we’ve just walked in the door he could hardly say that I was in the shower or asleep in bed.

‘Hello, Esther,’ I say cautiously.

‘I know you’ve just got in so I won’t keep you long, but I wanted to see how you are, you know, after last night.’

‘I’m fine, thank you,’ I tell her. ‘Much better.’

‘My sister had a miscarriage before having her first child so I know how emotionally draining it can be,’ she goes on.

‘Even so, I wish I hadn’t inflicted my disappointment on all of you,’ I say, aware of Jack listening to what I’m saying. ‘It’s just that it was hard hearing about Diane’s pregnancy.’

‘Of course it must have been,’ Esther sympathises. ‘And I hope you know that if you ever need anyone to talk to, I’m here.’

‘Thank you,’ I say. ‘That’s kind of you.’

‘So how was Millie?’ she asks, obviously eager to add a bit of cement to our growing friendship. Ever wary of her inquisitive streak, I’m just about to wind up the conversation with ‘She was fine, thank you for calling, I’m afraid I have to go, Jack’s waiting for his dinner,’

when I decide to keep talking, as I would if I was living a normal life.

‘Very excited.’ I smile. ‘Her carer, Janice, is bringing her down for lunch the Sunday after next so that she can see the house at last. She’ll be eighteen on the Monday so we’ll be having a little celebration for her.’

‘How lovely!’ Esther enthuses. ‘I hope you’ll let me bring around a card for her.’

I’m about to tell her that we would prefer it to be just the four of us this first time but that she’ll be welcome to meet Millie once she’s moved in, when it dawns on me that she will never get to see Millie. If everything goes as Jack wants, she will have to be kept out of sight, because how could he let anyone see her when he intends to keep her prisoner? And when he can no longer stall the people who ask where Millie is with pretend illnesses, he will say it didn’t work out, that Millie was too institutionalised to adapt to living with us and, as a result, has moved into a wonderful new home at the other end of the country. From being out of sight, Millie will quickly pass to being out of mind and I realise that the more people who meet Millie, the harder it will be to keep her hidden away. But I need to be careful.

‘That’s very kind of you,’ I say, making sure to sound hesitant. ‘And you’re right, Millie really should have a proper party for such an important birthday. I know she’ll love to meet your children.’

‘Goodness, I certainly didn’t mean to suggest that you should be giving Millie a party, or that you should invite Sebastian and Aisling along!’ Esther exclaims, sounding embarrassed. ‘I just meant I would pop in quickly by myself with a card.’

‘Why not? Diane and Adam have always wanted to meet Millie.’

‘Honestly, Grace, I don’t think any of us would want to intrude.’ Esther sounds more confused than ever.

‘Not at all. It’s a very good idea. Shall we say three o’clock? That’ll allow me and Jack to have lunch with Millie and Janice first.’

‘Well, if you’re sure,’ says Esther doubtfully.

‘Yes, it will be lovely for Millie,’ I say, nodding.

‘I’ll see you on the ninth, then.’

‘I look forward to it. Goodbye, Esther, thank you for phoning.’

I put the phone down, steeling myself.

‘What the hell was all that about?’ Jack explodes. ‘Have you really just invited Esther to some sort of birthday party for Millie?’

‘No, Jack,’ I say wearily, ‘Esther decided that we should give Millie a proper party and then invited herself and the children along. You know what she’s like—she almost ordered me to invite Diane and Adam along as well.’

‘Why didn’t you refuse?’

‘Because that kind of role doesn’t come easily to me any more. I’m too used to being perfect, to saying the right thing, just as you’ve wanted me to do. But, if you
want to go ahead and un-invite them, please do. Our friends may as well get used to the fact that they’re never going to meet Millie. Didn’t Moira and Giles say they couldn’t wait to see her? What excuse are you going to give them, Jack?’

‘I thought I’d tell them that your parents suddenly realised how much they missed their beautiful daughter and that she’s gone to live with them in New Zealand,’ he says.

Horrified at exactly how much he intended Millie to be out of sight and mind, I’m determined that the party for Millie will go ahead.

‘And what if my parents decide to come over for Christmas?’ I ask. ‘What will you do if they turn up here, expecting to see Millie?’

‘I doubt very much that they will and anyway, maybe she’ll have given up and died before then. Although I hope not—it would be most inconvenient if she only managed to last a few months after all the trouble I’ve gone to.’

I turn away abruptly so he can’t see the way the colour has drained from my face and the only thing that stops my legs from giving way beneath me is the murderous rage that has filled my heart. I clench my fists and noticing, he laughs. ‘You would just love to kill me, wouldn’t you?’

‘Eventually, yes. But first, I’d like you to suffer,’ I tell him, unable to help myself.

‘Not much chance of that, I’m afraid,’ he says, seeming amused by the thought.

I know I have to keep focused, that the chances of Millie being a flesh-and-blood person to our friends rather than someone they only know about second hand are slipping away fast. I also know that if Jack suspects I want the party to go ahead, he’ll phone Esther back and tell her that we prefer it to be a private gathering.

‘Just cancel the party, Jack,’ I say, sounding as if I’m close to tears. ‘There’s no way I could sit through it and pretend that everything is fine.’

‘Then it is the perfect punishment for inviting Janice in the first place.’

‘Please, Jack, no,’ I plead.

‘I do so love it when you beg,’ he sighs, ‘especially as it has the opposite effect that it’s meant to. Now, up to your room—I have a party to prepare for. Maybe it’s not such a bad idea after all—at least once people have actually met Millie, they’ll be even more impressed by my generosity.’

I let my shoulders slump and drag my feet as I walk up the stairs in front of him in what I hope is a perfect picture of dejection. In the dressing room, I take off my clothes slowly while my mind looks for a way to distract him so that I can take the pills from my shoe and hide them somewhere on me.

‘So, have you told the neighbours that as well as having a manic-depressive wife, you have a mentally
retarded sister-in-law?’ I ask, slipping off my shoes and beginning to undress.

‘Why would I have? They’re never going to meet Millie.’

I hang my dress back up in the wardrobe and take my pyjamas from the shelf. ‘But they’ll see her in the garden, when she’s having her party,’ I say, putting them on.

‘They can’t see into our garden from their house,’ he points out.

I reach for the shoebox. ‘They can if they’re standing at the window on the first floor.’

‘Which window?’

‘The one that overlooks the garden.’ I nod towards the window. ‘That one over there.’ As he turns his head, I crouch down, place the shoebox on the floor and pick up my shoes.

He cranes his neck. ‘They wouldn’t be able to see from there,’ he says, as I prise the tissue from my shoe. ‘It’s too far away.’

Still crouching, I tuck the tissue into the waistband of my pyjamas, place the shoes in the box and stand up.

‘Then you’ve got nothing to worry about,’ I say, putting the box back in the wardrobe.

I walk towards the door, praying that the tissue won’t slip from its hiding place and spill pills all over the floor. Jack follows me out and I open my bedroom door and go in, half expecting Jack to pull me back and demand to know what I have stuffed into my waistband. As he closes the door behind me, I don’t dare believe that I’ve
actually managed to pull it off, but when I hear the key turning in the lock, the relief is so great that my legs give way and I sink to the floor, my whole body trembling. But because there’s always the possibility that Jack is only letting me think I’ve got away with it, I get to my feet and slide the tissue under the mattress. Then I sit down on the bed, and try to take in the fact that I’ve achieved more in the last fifteen minutes than I have in the last fifteen months, acknowledging all the while that, if I have, it’s thanks to Millie. I’m not shocked that she expected me to kill Jack because murder is commonplace in the detective stories she listens to and she has no real idea of what it means to actually kill someone. In her mind, where the line between fact and fiction is often blurred, murder is simply a solution to a problem.

T
hat first time, I was ashamed of the way I clung to Jack when he finally came to let me out of the room in the basement. It had been a long, terrible night, made worse by the knowledge that I had helped make it the nightmare it was. Until then, I’d had no real idea what he intended for Millie. I knew that fear would be a part of it, but I had been confident that I would be able to protect her from the worst of it, that she would be able to run to me, that I would be with her at all times. Even though Jack had told me he wanted someone he could hide away, it had never occurred to me that he meant to keep Millie locked up in a terrifying room in the basement so that he could feed off her fear whenever he wanted. To know the extent of his depravation was bad enough, but the fear that he would leave me there to die
of dehydation, like Molly did, that I might not get out in time to save Millie, broke me—which was why, when he eventually unlocked the door the next morning, I was almost incoherent with gratitude, promising that I would anything, anything, as long as he didn’t take me down there again.

He took me at my word and turned it into a game. He began setting me tasks he knew I would fail so that he would have an excuse to take me down to the basement. Before I hit him with the bottle, Jack would let me choose the menu for the dinner parties we gave and I would choose dishes that I’d cooked many times before. From then on, he imposed the menu on me and made sure the dishes he chose were as complicated as possible. If the meal wasn’t perfect—if the meat was a little too tough, or the fish a little overcooked—he would take me down to the room once our guests had gone and lock me in overnight. I was a fairly confident cook, but under such pressure I made stupid mistakes, so much so that the dinner where Esther and Rufus had been invited was the first time everything had gone smoothly in five months.

Even when we went to friends’ for dinner, if I said or did anything that displeased Jack—once, I couldn’t finish my dessert—I would get taken down to the basement as soon as we got home. Aware that my fear had a potent effect on him, I would try to remain calm, but, if I did, he would stand on the other side of the door and, his voice hoarse with excitement, tell me to imagine Millie in there, until I begged him to stop.