Shaping the Ripples (16 page)

Of course now, with time, maturity and Jennifer’s counselling, I understand exactly what was going on. Liz had escaped from an overbearing family, with not much self confidence or belief. Now, when she needed to learn how to cope with life’s struggles and disappointments for herself, she had this idiot who, in trying to “make everything alright” all the time, refused to give her the support and space she needed.

Having read through countless books on the subject of the effects of child abuse, I can see now that I was falling into the classic trap. One of the lessons an abused child receives, especially when the abuse begins when they are very young, is that they must be unlovable. There can be no other reason why this is happening to them than the truth that they are unusually abhorrent, and so deserve it. What it leaves is a big empty void at the very heart of their being, which they often spend the rest of their life trying, and failing, to fill.

Sometimes this void shows in competitiveness – if I can be the best at everything, then maybe I am worth something. People driven by this are often extremely successful in the eyes of others, but live with the constant fear that one day their “real, unlovable self” will be found out.

Sometimes it shows itself in a need for power – I may be unlovable but I’ll make sure no-one ever gets the chance to hurt me again. Tragically, these are the ones who often go on to abuse others – to reassure themselves that they are no longer the victim.

In most cases, as in mine, it works out as an overwhelming need to be loved. The person needs constant approval; reassurance that they are loved. They are often the most popular of people, performing for everyone. The tragedy is that no amount of love is ever enough to fill the hole inside them, and in trying to suck every morsel of love from those around them, they end up draining and spoiling the real love that was there.

But of course, I didn’t know any of this when it might have made a difference for me and Liz. All I knew was that I needed her to be happy to prove that she did really love me and want to be with me. So the harder I tried to make her happy, the more unhappy she became, making me try even harder. That’s not to say there weren’t good times in between, especially when we were on holiday together, but on the whole we settled into a circle of unhappiness.

This went on for some years, until it became obvious to both of us that things were going badly wrong. Liz was still stuck in the library, and matters were made worse over time as I gradually came to hate the job I was doing. Over time, the red tape and bureaucracy had increased to such and extent due to fears of making a mistake and being sued, that I no longer felt I was helping people We both realised that something had to change.

Then I saw the job advertised in York at the Crisis Centre, and knew it was exactly what I was looking for. The chance to make a difference again in people’s lives was a strong pull. We talked about it over and over again. Liz’s hope was that things between us might improve if I was fulfilled at work, and maybe there would be better job opportunities for her. Of course, the fact that she was willing to take such a big step to try and save our marriage showed clearly how much she really did love me, but I was too much of a fool to realise that.

With hindsight, in terms of our marriage, it was the worst move we could have possibly made. I loved the job, but the long hours meant we were together less and less. Liz had left all her closest friends behind in Bristol, and finding a job took much longer than we had anticipated. I know she felt completely isolated and hopeless. Because we saw each other less, it was even more important to me that the time we spent together was good, which put an unbearable pressure on her. I watched as this woman who I truly loved more than life itself became increasingly angry and unhappy.

In the end, it was me who pushed her into leaving. One day when I came home form work, I found her sitting in the dark. When I put the light on, it was clear that she’d been crying. I poured us both a glass of wine and sat down next to her.

“This isn’t working, is it?” I said as gently as I could. “I can tell that you’re very unhappy, and that’s the last thing I ever wanted to make you.”

“I know you didn’t,” she said. “It’s not all down to you anyway.”

“But a lot of it is,” I answered. “Tell me why you stay with me when it’s clearly so hard.”

Liz thought for a minute before answering. “Lots of reasons,” she said finally. “I love you and you’re my best friend for starters.”

I already knew deep down that if this conversation continued, it would lead to an irrevocable decision. But something within made me continue.

“I love you too,” I said. “But there’s no point in us pretending that we make each other happy anymore. Why stick with it until we get to the point where we can’t stand each other any longer?”

“But we’ve got a whole history together,” she answered. “And we promised that we’d always be together.”

I closed my eyes for a second before going on. “I know, but I don’t think either of those are good enough reasons for us to go on. What you’re effectively saying is that you should stay with me out of duty and tradition. Duty because you said you would, and tradition because of the years we’ve had together. I don’t want you to stay with me for reasons like that while you die inside a bit more every day.”

“Then what do you suggest we do?” she asked.

“I want us to get a divorce,” I said, ignoring the strong voices of disagreement that arose within me. “You know you hate it here. I think you should go back to Bristol and I’ll stay up here.”

There was a lot more talking and agonising after that, but effectively those words marked the end of our marriage. Liz found a job back in Bristol, working in a book shop. Within six months she was a partner in the business and now she and the other partner, Peter Nevin, were planning to get married.

I was pleased that things had worked out so well for her, but it didn’t take away the pain that I felt whenever I thought of her. As expected, I had taken the break up of our marriage as final proof that I truly was incapable of being loved, and made the decision that I would never risk being vulnerable like that again. The prospect of seeing Liz again felt far too much like ripping the plaster off a still open wound.

Nonetheless, the morning passed quickly, and before long it was almost time for her to appear. I don’t know whether Liz had been sitting in the car to make sure that she didn’t arrive too early, but at the exact moment the clock in the lounge moved to four o’clock the apartment buzzer sounded. I spoke briefly to make sure it was her, and then pressed the button which opened the door to the apartment block.

I opened the front door, and moved into the hall to greet her when she got out of the lift. Almost right away, the lift bell pinged in warning and the door began to open.

“Jack!” she called and rushed up to give me a hug. “It’s been too long.”

As she moved away, I had my first proper look at her. She had cut her hair much shorter than when we were together, but she was just as beautiful as I remembered. I moved aside, and let her lead the way into the flat.

I was obviously still eager to please her, as I had bought in some tea bags especially. She accepted my offer of a drink, so I was able to put off having to make conversation for a few more moments while I made it for her. Back in the lounge, we sat in silence for a few moments as she drank.

“So, have you found any good books here in York?” I said, feeling one of us needed to break the silence before it became too uncomfortable.

Liz’s face clouded over slightly. “To tell you the truth, I’ve only just arrived. I’m staying at a hotel in the city for tonight. I might take a look in a couple of bookshops before I head home tomorrow.”

“It’s a long way to come just to look in a couple of bookshops,” I observed, my voice sounding harder than I’d hoped.

Now she looked really awkward. “I didn’t really come here to look at books. I just said that on the phone to you so you wouldn’t ask questions. I really came to see you.”

I had suspected as much, but it still took me aback to hear her say it so readily.

“What could possibly be so important that you had to come all this way to tell me in person? After all this time?”

She looked me in the eye and said, “It was George.”

“George?” I said incredulously. “What’s he got to do with anything?”

“He called me,” Liz admitted. “He told me about you discovering that murder, and how withdrawn you’d been since. He was really worried about you.”

Now she had told me, it made perfect sense. George had been the one real friend that Liz had made in her time at York. They’d met at a social event not long after we’d moved here, and had hit it off straight away. George had sensed early on how lonely she was, and made a point of visiting regularly. He’d once said that he thought of her as a daughter, and I knew he’d been devastated when we split up. I’d suspected they were still in touch after she’d moved, but hadn’t ever asked him.

“So because George was worried, you’ve got straight in your car and come up to see for yourself,” I said.

“Of course,” Liz answered unapologetically. “Just because we’re not together doesn’t mean I’ve stopped caring about you, you know.”

This sentiment touched me deeply, and for a moment I didn’t know what to say.

“So come on then, talk to me,” she invited. “You’re not getting rid of me until you do.”

This was Liz of old, determined and stubborn. I knew that she was telling the truth and, on reflection, it might help to talk to someone about all that had happened. So, after a quick explanation of who Jennifer was, I began the story.

I went through the note, finding the body, and the police reaction. Then I went on through the funeral, until getting to the events of yesterday. At that stage, I broke off and went to my desk to fetch the copy of the second letter. Liz had listened carefully throughout, but this note brought a gasp of horror from her.

“This is disgusting!” she said, handing the net back to me. “Why on earth would someone send you a thing like this?”

“I wish I knew,” I said. “If I had an idea why they’d picked on me then I might have some clue who it was. It’s especially hard when the police seem to think that I’m the most likely suspect.”

“Well, they’re idiots if they do,” she said furiously. “I’m more worried that you might be in some kind of danger. Maybe you should get away for a while. I’m sure George would let you have as much time off as you needed if he knew the whole story.”

“I had thought of it,” I admitted. “But if whoever’s doing this really has targeted me then wouldn’t they just wait until I got back and then start again? I just have to hope that the police get some sort of lead and then catch them.”

“It’s no wonder that you’ve been so low. Why haven’t you told anyone about it before now?”

“Until yesterday I hadn’t been that bothered. Obviously it was awful the way Jennifer died, but now it feels as if somehow I’m the cause of it.”

“You can’t think that. Whoever sent the note wants you to do that, to blame yourself for what they’re doing.”

I nodded in partial agreement. It was good to have her to talk things over with, even if it was only for an hour or so.

“Jack,” Liz said suddenly. “I don’t want to pry, and you don’t have to tell me if you’d rather not, but I can’t help wondering what you were seeing Jennifer about.”

It was clearly the week for confessions. DI Smith yesterday, and now Liz. As I tried to decide how much to tell her, it occurred to me that perhaps she had a right to know the whole story. After all, it had had a fairly significant impact on her life as well.

So I began with the dreams that had started the whole process, and then outlined all that Jennifer and I had worked through together, and all the things that I had learned about myself. As the story unfolded, Liz reached across and held both my hands tightly between hers. When I had finished, her eyes were damp with unshed tears.

“If only we’d known,” she said finally. “I might have been able to help you with it, instead of it pulling us apart.”

I shrugged slightly. “It could also be true that us splitting up was the thing that brought the memories to the surface. Then things could have gone on getting worse between us until we couldn’t stand the sight of each other.”

“Maybe,” she said thoughtfully, “but I still wish that I could have helped you with it.”

I looked at the clock, and was amazed to see that we’d been talking for nearly two hours. A thought struck me.

“Is Peter waiting for you back at the hotel? Or did you come up on your own?”

“No, Peter stayed in Bristol,” she added. “We agreed that he’d only be in the way.”

“He must be pretty special if he’s happy with his fiancée dashing the length of the country to try and rescue her ex-husband.”

“He is,” she smiled. “I think the two of you would really get along. In fact he was the one who insisted that I was right to come. He could tell that I’ve been worrying about you ever since George rang me.”

“So is it all going smoothly for the wedding?” I asked, trying to sound casual.

Liz nodded. “That was something else that I wanted to speak to you about. I know it might feel a bit weird, but it would really mean a lot to me if you could come.”

“You don’t want me to give you away do you?” I said, feeling slightly alarmed at the prospect. “A sort of official hand-over?”

“No, of course not,” she laughed. “It’s just that you’ve been the biggest part of my life for so long, and we’ve shared so many memories together, that it would feel strange if you weren’t there.”

She looked at the uncertainty on my face, and continued. “You don’t have to. Just say if it would be too difficult a day for you.”

“I’m not sure.” I answered. “I wasn’t expecting to be invited. How about you save a place for me and I’ll let you know nearer the time.”

“OK,” she said. “You don’t have to make your mind up until the day before. I’ll save two places for you just in case you decide to bring someone with you.”

“As you’re on your own this evening,” I said. “Do you fancy going out to get something to eat?”