The Doll's House - [63]

‘I know that. Ella Matthews was a big deal. But that was ten months ago. And I don’t see you any more now than I did then.’

‘Come on, Tim, you know what happened after the shooting. The public inquiry, the IPCC hearing -’

‘That all finished a long time ago. Ella Matthews isn’t the problem. It’s this place.’

‘This house?’

‘Southampton. Ever since we moved here, things haven’t been right.’

‘I thought you liked it down here. We’re close to your parents, the kids love it, you like the sailing -’

‘Ok, you’ve not been right.’

Ceri stared at him. She wanted to refute his assertion, to shout and scream at his stupid, knowing face. But there was a grain of truth in what he was saying. Her eyes flicked to her bag in the hall, then back to Tim once more.

‘I brought someone else into this marriage. And I take full responsibility for that and the pain it’s caused you. But you’ve done it too.’

‘I’ve done no such th-’

‘You think the rest of the world is obsessed with Helen Grace. You’re always complaining about that. But it’s you who’s obsessed, Ceri. It’s you who has driven us apart. And unless you face up to that, then we haven’t got a chance.’

102

‘I’ve let you down.’

Helen stood in Daniel Briers’ hotel room.

‘I’m sure you did what you thought was best,’ Daniel replied.

Helen looked up, trying to see if he was angry with her, but his tone was hard to read. She wanted him to say that he forgave her, to brush away her feelings of inadequacy and shame. But he remained silent.

‘We’ll question Simpson again in the morning – see if a night in prison has any effect on him. He’s staring down the barrel of a long trial, so if he’s got any sense he’ll play ball…’

But did Helen believe it? Simpson had seemed so defiant, so determined not to acknowledge any culpability. Would he hold out and try to beat the rap? Or was there something else going on here? Was this the defiance of innocence? It seemed unlikely – he fitted the profile in so many ways – and yet this nagging thought lingered, unnerving Helen.

Daniel remained silent, so Helen continued:

‘Anyway, I’m sorry for making the situation worse for you. If I’d stayed calm, perhaps I could have got him to cooperate. There’s no excuse for it. Sometimes I… I just see red. I can’t help it. It’s in my DNA.’

Helen wasn’t sure how much she should share, how much Daniel already knew about her, but she felt compelled to explain her debacle in the interview suite.

‘Sometimes when I’m in there, sitting across the table from a guy like Simpson, it’s like I’m twelve years old again. I feel the helplessness, the despair, that someone like Ruby is experiencing and… I see myself and Marianne. In that flat. I remember the things my father did, the things he wanted to do, the things Marianne had to do to protect me. I see these men, I think of her and… I break inside.’

Helen didn’t look up, didn’t want to see Daniel’s reaction. She just wanted to tell him who she was, once and for all.

‘Part of me wants to destroy them. I know that sounds terrible, but it’s true. Their arrogance, their violence, makes me feel sick. I should be able to contain myself, but those feelings are always there. There’s a hatred inside me. I don’t want it, but I can’t get rid of it. Does that make sense to you?’

Finally she looked up. What was she hoping for? Understanding? Censure? Anger? She would have settled for any or all of these, but to Helen’s surprise Daniel was looking out of the window. Helen was shocked by his blank expression – he looked bored.

A long silence, then Daniel turned to her, finally taking in the fact that she had finished talking.

‘Sorry, you don’t need to hear all this,’ Helen said, anger jostling with her deep feelings of embarrassment. She had never confessed her innermost feelings like this before.

‘No, I’d like to hear more about you,’ Daniel replied quickly, but Helen could see the lie.

‘I shouldn’t have come here…’

‘Helen, wait -’

But Helen was already at the door. Turning the handle, she muttered:

‘I’m sorry, Daniel.’

And with that, she was gone.

103

Helen walked away from the hotel as fast as she could. What a fool. What a stupid, naïve, desperate fool. What kind of copper was she? To latch on to the vulnerability and grief of a bereaved father and somehow hope to find something for herself there? She had wanted to feed off it. No, that wasn’t right. She had hoped to find comfort in it, a sense of peace, a place to belong.

What must he think of her now? She had badly misjudged the situation, imposing her own neediness on a man who had neither feeling nor thought for her. He was bored by her weakness and who could blame him for that? He had enough to deal with it as it was.

Helen approached her bike – she didn’t know where she was going, but she just wanted to be away from here, away from the scene of her latest mistake. But as she unlocked her helmet, she saw it. In her side mirror, a figure approaching her fast. He had come from the shadows, had the element of surprise and was nearly upon her. Without hesitation, she spun round, swinging her helmet in a fast, decisive arc. The man raised his hands, but too late – the helmet connecting forcefully with his head. He reeled backwards and, dropping the helmet, Helen was on him in a flash, forcing him down to the pavement. She raised her clenched fist and brought it down in a rabbit punch to the neck.