The Cop Read online

‘Are you all right, love? You don’t seem yourself today if you don’t mind me saying so. There’s a bug doing the rounds.’

  Kathy raised a hand to her face, masking her eyes for a beat. ‘It’s nothing. I’m fine.’

  ‘If you say so, love. You look as if you’re a bit under the weather to me. My sister had the flu a week or two back. You better look after yourself. You don’t want to be in the state she was in.’

  He tapped his bulbous nose knowingly with the index finger of his free hand.

  ‘Believe me. I know the signs.’

  ‘I said I’m fine.’

  He nodded twice, seeming less than persuaded.

  ‘Okay, if you say so. I’m off next week, so it’ll probably be the week after when I see you again. I’m off to Majorca with the missus and the kids for a bit of sun… all-inclusive. It’s cheaper at the time of year as long as you avoid the half-term holidays.’

  ‘I really do have to go now. My husband’s tea’s not going to cook itself. I need to get on.’

  The delivery man retreated from the doorstep, squinting as the pale autumn sun caught his face. ‘All right, love. I was only making conversation, that’s all. Sorry to keep you.’

  Kathy shut the door without response, hurrying in the direction of the kitchen, deep in contemplative thought as her gut twisted and complained. Periods didn’t stop without good reason. That’s what she told herself. That’s what she yelled inside her head. She just had to know the truth. One way or the other – pregnant or not – she had to understand the reality, whatever the risks, whatever the danger. She had to comprehend whatever she was dealing with. Nothing was nearly as necessary, and nothing mattered more. It was as simple as that.

  Kathy delved into the first carrier bag with urgent, fast-moving fingers, then into another, and then another before finally finding what she was looking for in the fourth. She clutched the white cardboard box tightly in one hand and stared at it, panting hard as her chest tightened and her breathing became more laboured. Come on, Kathy, you can do it, girl, deep breaths. Inaction wasn’t an option. Not now, not any more, she just had to get it done. Maybe her situation had changed forever. Perhaps this was it – the moment that changed everything.

  Kathy ran towards the staircase, ascending two steps at a time, despite both vaginal and rectal bruising screaming for attention with each painful step. Please, God, no, not a child, not with him, anyone but him! She couldn’t go through it again, not again – not after the last time. Grieving one baby was more than enough for one lifetime. What if he did the same awful thing again? And he would if given a chance. He definitely would!

  She sat on the bathroom floor, cross-legged, staring wide-eyed as two blue lines appeared in the small plastic window. Oh God, no, it was happening, it was really happening. Why her? Why now? He’d raped her once. Just once without protection! What were the chances? Was God looking down at her and laughing? Or was the devil pulling the strings?

  Kathy rose to her feet, refastened her blue jeans, washed her hands with warm, soapy water and returned to the kitchen with her thoughts tumbling. She had to focus. There were things to do – things she had to get right. He couldn’t know. He could never know. A child wasn’t a part of his plans. He’d left her in no doubt on that score. He’d punch her, kick her, do whatever it took. And he’d blame her for it too when he’d done his worst. That’s the sort of man he was. The unborn baby wouldn’t stand a chance. He or she’d be dead and gone before ever drawing the breath of life. There would be no celebration, only grief and painful memory.

  Kathy pulled on a thick sky-blue woollen cardigan against the unseasonal chill and stepped out into the back garden unsupervised for the first time in almost three years. If she were quick, maybe no one would see her. Perhaps no one would tell him she’d broken his rules. Maybe she’d get away with it without the need for explanation, pleading or punishment. Come on, Kathy, be brave, girl. You can do it. Do it for your baby. Do it for your child.

  Kathy repeatedly glanced at the windows of overlooking houses; up, down, right to left and then back again, searching for any sign of non-existent prying eyes, anyone who may speak to her husband, anyone who may give her up and condemn her. She moved quickly now, urging herself on, opening the shed door and looking in. Where is it? Where on earth is it? Oh, thanks be to God! Behind the lawnmower.

  Kathy stepped over a pile of half-empty paint tins, careful not to move anything even slightly. If she left any clue, he’d spot it. Just like always. He always spotted even the smallest flaw. She had to be careful. More cautious than she’d ever been in her life. So much depended on her efforts. For her, for the baby, she had to get everything right. Nothing less was acceptable.

  Kathy brought her thought process to a sudden end as she took a shovel in one hand, her heart pounding in her throat as if trying to escape her body. She could hear the incessant beat like a distant drum as she approached a flowerbed at the far side of the lawn one considered step at a time, and proceeded to dig frantically, sinking the spade’s blade into the cold, dark earth time and again until she finally judged the hole to be of sufficient depth for her purpose. It was big enough, wasn’t it? Surely it was deep enough. He wasn’t a gardener. He didn’t bother with the flowerbeds, and particularly not in autumn when nothing grew, except his self-importance. There were no weeds to pull – no roses to spray. Surely, not even he would find evidence of her activities. I’m doing right thing, aren’t I? Course I am. She repeated it in her head, still unconvinced but keen to continue. She had no choice.

  Kathy felt her body shudder as she dropped the white plastic tester and its cardboard packaging into the hole. She looked down, experiencing a sudden surge of almost overwhelming panic when they contrasted dramatically against the pitch-dark earth. If he dug there, he’d spot them. He’d definitely spot them. How could he not? They stood out as if highlighted by a spotlight, big, bright and screaming for attention. But why would he dig? He wouldn’t, would he? She just had to trust her own judgement. She’d come up with a plan. There was no going back, not now. It was far too late for that. She had to follow it through.

  Kathy reached down stiffly, placing the offending items to one side before digging down another two feet or so in a further hopeless attempt to alleviate her angst. There, that’s it. Much better. Why would he ever choose to dig that far down? Even if he did do some gardening, which seemed unlikely, it had to be deep enough, didn’t it? Come on, Kathy, it just had to be, he’d be back soon, time’s getting on. Make a decision and stick to it.

  Kathy was panting hard now, her chest rising and falling at a rapid rate as she dropped the items into the hole for the second time. She placed a large, suitably sized stone directly on top of them and pressed it down with the sole of her shoe before shovelling the dark earth back into place, carefully examining it for a few seconds with almost forensic precision. Not good enough, not nearly good enough! She heard him yell it in her mind as if to mock her, louder and louder. It had to be as near to perfect as feasibly possible. She couldn’t leave even the slightest hint for him to find. He’d been a detective, and a good one, too, according to him. He’d said it and said it; driven it home, never to be forgotten. His return to uniform had been an abomination, a waste of his God-given talents – a decision made by morons. That’s what he’d claimed. There was nothing he couldn’t find out.

  Kathy rechecked her watch, asking herself why the second hand was moving so very quickly, seconds seemingly becoming minutes in the blink of an eye. She curled her toes, dropped onto all fours and began studying the ground carefully, adjusting the position of the surface earth with her fingers until it blended almost precisely with the rest. She repeated the process once, then twice, telling herself that she’d done all she could. She’d done her best; paid close attention to detail. Now, all she could do was put the shovel back exactly where she’d found it, prepare for his return and make like she’d done nothing at all. He’d be back soon enough, with all that entailed. There w
as no room for dawdling – no time for delay. The clock was ticking. She had to get on.

  Kathy took her shoes off before entering the house with the intention of cleaning them, but then it dawned on her, the receipt! Oh God, what if he saw the receipt? It had happened before. He’d sometimes checked what she’d bought. Examined the details with his criticisms, snide comments and worse. Why not this time? It could happen. It really could. She had to find the damned thing and send it to oblivion.

  Kathy delved into one plastic bag after another, sweating profusely by the time she finally found the required strip of paper and ripped it into what seemed a thousand tiny pieces. She gathered up each and every speck, double checking that she hadn’t missed even one, before running for the stairs, clutching them tightly in cupped hands that wouldn’t stop trembling. The toilet, that made sense. Flush the evidence down the toilet. Surely not even he could find them there? Not in the sewerage system, not if she kept her mouth tight shut. Not if she stayed strong and didn’t buckle under whatever pressure he imposed.

  She dropped all the pieces of paper into the porcelain bowl, flushing once and then again for a second time when one piece floated to the surface, lingering in the water as if to spite her. Kathy stared into the bowl, resisting the impulse to vomit. What if she’d missed it? What if he’d spotted it? She’d had a lucky break. Maybe things were looking up at last. Perhaps fate was on her side this time. The universe conspiring to protect the new life inside her womb. Yes, that made sense. Come on, Kathy, you can do it, girl. Deep breaths, one step at a time. All she had to do was have a super quick shower, apply his favourite perfume, clean her dirty clothes and shoes, dry them, put them back on again and then start cooking his tea. She could manage that much, couldn’t she? If she hurried, if she didn’t waste a single second. There would be criticisms; there were always criticisms of one thing or another, whatever she did, whatever she said in her defence. But so be it, she’d triumph in the end. Keep saying it, Kathy. Say it and believe it. She had to focus on the end game whatever the cost. Stick to her plan.

  Kathy stripped off, stepped into the shower, switched it on, taking fleeting sensual pleasure in the flowing water warming her skin. She could do it and she could win, whatever he said to the contrary. She couldn’t let herself become overwhelmed by fear or distress as she had so many times before, frozen by indecision at the hands of her tormentor. Failure was utterly unthinkable now. Everything about her had to be just as it was when he’d left that morning. Nothing to raise suspicion. Nothing to spark his attention or concern even slightly. Attention to detail. That’s why she’d failed before. This time had to be different. There were two lives at stake now. There wasn’t just her to think about. Another baby wasn’t going to die. Not if she had anything to do with it. This time she had to get it right.

  5

  The phone seemed to ring for an age before Kathy finally heard her mother’s familiar musical West Country tones. ‘Hello, Mum, it’s Kathy. I’m glad to catch you in. Have you got time to talk?’

  She sighed theatrically before responding, making zero effort to hide her displeasure.

  ‘I was just about to take a nice hot bath with a glass of wine. Can’t it wait? I’m your mother, not an agony aunt.’

  Kathy swayed from one foot to the other, oblivious to her repetitive movements as her mother’s disinterest stung and festered. Should she put the phone down? Was it even worth continuing? Perhaps Mother would take her seriously this time. Maybe she’d even believe her for once in her life.

  ‘Are you still there, Kathy? I haven’t got all day. I’m beginning to wonder if the phone is playing up.’

  Kathy fidgeted with her bracelet. ‘Yes, I’m still here.’

  ‘Okay, I’m all ears. If we’re going to do this, let’s get it done. What have you got to say for yourself this time?’

  Kathy hung her head, her hair falling over her face, eyes moistening. ‘I hoped you’d be glad to hear from me. I haven’t rung for ages.’

  ‘Yes, but when you do ring there’s always an ulterior motive. It’s never for a nice chat. You never ask how things are here with me. There’s always some unspoken agenda, every single time. It’s always about you.’

  Kathy bounced a foot, her shoulders curled over her chest. ‘Why so impatient, why so dismissive? If you haven’t got time to talk now, I could always ring again when it’s more convenient. Maybe I should make an appointment, would that suit you better? I’m sorry if I’m an inconvenience. I wouldn’t want to spoil your day.’

  ‘There’s no need for sarcasm, young lady. You’re on the phone now. Let’s get it over with, shall we? My bath’s not going to stay hot forever.’

  Just say it, Kathy. Just say it and be done with it. ‘I rang to tell you that I’m pregnant again.’

  A deep sigh was loudly audible down the line.

  ‘Oh, I can’t say I’m surprised. Are you keeping it this time or haven’t you decided?’

  Kathy held the palm of her free hand to her belly, picturing the baby in her mind’s eye. Wanting to protect it. Experiencing a deep love tainted with sadness.

  ‘I want to. I really want to.’

  ‘So, what does Mike think?’

  Kathy felt a sinking feeling deep in the pit of her stomach. ‘He doesn’t know.’

  Another sigh. ‘Really?’

  ‘He can’t know, not this time. It has to remain a secret. That couldn’t be more important. I can’t stress that enough. You’re the only person I’ve told.’

  Her mother chuckled, suppressing a belly laugh fighting to be heard.

  ‘Well, good luck with that. It tends to become rather obvious after a few months. What are you going to do then, wear a loose dress or say you’ve put on a bit of weight? And that was a joke, by the way, in case you were wondering. Mike’s going to find out, that’s the reality. There’s only so long one can hide a pregnancy. Think about it, for goodness sake. You’re not making any sense at all.’

  ‘Now who’s being sarcastic? I do know what happens when expecting, Mum, I’m not a complete idiot despite what everyone seems to think. I want to keep the pregnancy from him for as long as possible. That’s all I’m saying. That’s what I should have said in the first place.’

  ‘Do you want me to tell you what I really think or just what you want to hear?’

  ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

  ‘You can’t look after yourself properly, let alone a baby.’

  Kathy wiped a tear from her face, smearing dark mascara across one cheek.

  ‘I’d be a good mum if given a chance. All I need is the opportunity. I’ll prove it if I can. You wait and see.’

  ‘I wonder what goes on in that head of yours sometimes. Tell Mike now, that’s my advice. He’s the father. He’s got the right to know, and he’s going to find out soon enough anyway. Why delay the inevitable?’

  Kathy’s heart was pounding, thundering in her ears as if attempting to drown out her thoughts, adrenalin surging through her bloodstream.

  ‘Have you forgotten what happened the last time I told him I was pregnant. I’d never seen him so angry. He was like a wild animal, snarling, spitting spite. The same thing would happen again. I’ve got no doubt in my mind. It’s as inevitable as night and day.’

  ‘That doesn’t sound like the Mike I know.’

  ‘He threw me to the floor, kicked me in the gut and I miscarried. I’ve explained all this. How many times do I have to repeat myself? I lost my baby because of what he did, and nobody cared but me.’

  Kathy’s mother rolled her eyes.

  ‘Oh God, not this again! I thought we were done with the wild allegations. I hoped you were finally getting better. All your attention-seeking behaviour isn’t going to achieve anything at all. It does nothing but damage. When are you going to realise that?’ ‘He’s violent, Mum. He’s always been violent, when we’re alone, when no one’s watching. He leaves bruises where no one else can see. He’s hit me from the first day of our marriage.
Right from the very start.’

  ‘Then why haven’t you left him? Can you answer that for me? If your allegations were more than a desperate female fantasy, you’d have gone long ago.’

  ‘I’ve tried, Mum, believe me, I’ve tried. But he always drags me back. And then it’s worse, much worse. He calls it justifiable punishment or behaviour modification therapy. That’s his idea of a joke; he makes my life a living nightmare. If I could escape him, it would be the happiest day of my life.’

  ‘Have you talked to Dr Jones recently? Maybe she could review your medication. It’s got to be worth a try, hasn’t it? You need help, Kathy, that’s blatantly obvious to anyone. But not the kind of help you’re suggesting. Talk to your doctor. You need professional help.’

  Kathy was crying now. Her chest heaving as she gasped for breath.

  ‘What m-medication? I’m not taking a-any medication. I haven’t seen a doctor for ages.’

  Her mother snorted. ‘Well, maybe that’s the real problem right there. Have you thought about that? Maybe if you did what you were told for once in your life, we wouldn’t be having this conversation now. I don’t know how Mike copes with it all. It’s been one lie after another since the miscarriage.’

  ‘They aren’t lies. It’s the truth, nothing but the truth. Why won’t you believe me?’

  ‘You need to stop this and stop it now. There’s only so much anyone can put up with before they snap. I’m beginning to understand how much Mike has to deal with. It’s him I feel sorry for.’

  Kathy tugged at her hair.

  ‘What on earth are you talking about?’

  ‘Mike has told me all about your issues, Kathy. I know you’ve been ill since losing the baby last year. I know all about the psychiatric evaluation. And I know you’re not cooperating with the treatment plan. What on earth are you thinking, girl?

  It’s time to start listening to the experts. That’s your best chance of getting better. You do want that, don’t you? Concentrate on getting yourself well and then think about a baby in a year or two when everything’s on an even keel.’