Chapter 10 Miles
Miles
Getting everything organised for the trip took longer than Miles had hoped.
The soonest flights were fully booked, and both Polly and Elis had work commitments that needed to be fulfilled before they could leave.
In fact, Polly seemed to have a long list of reasons to delay their departure.
But, thanks to Miles’s persistence, they sorted it all out in the end.
Their travel is booked, as is their first hotel – four nights in Queenstown.
After that, they’ll figure it out as they go along.
Miles likes the idea of that: the freedom.
This trip will be exactly what he needs.
It’ll be great to spend some quality time with the people who have been there for him during his ordeal, especially his sister and Elis, who has been unbelievably supportive.
And it’ll be a chance for Elis to properly get to know some of Miles’s other friends.
It’s now a whole week since Miles’s acquittal, and he’s busy packing the last of his things into his suitcase.
They’ll be going early in the morning, and Miles can’t wait for take-off.
Leaving the country will be the final step towards normality after the nightmare of the trial.
He’d expected things to get back to something close to normal as soon as a not guilty verdict was delivered, but it hasn’t quite worked out like that.
For a start, he’s been feeling strangely down, like he’s being confronted with Caira’s death for the first time.
Nothing makes a man more self-absorbed and inward-looking than being charged with murder.
The strain of it is so intense that it leaves no room for empathy.
And it’s only now that he’s experiencing what might be described as delayed grief – a lingering sadness at what happened to her.
Miles was with Caira the night she died, and now he can’t help but spend hours thinking about it: the terror she would have felt in her final moments, the tragic loss of her life, the pain it must have caused her family.
Also, Miles still hasn’t left the house since he got back after the verdict.
For the whole week, he’s been holed up, never once venturing outside.
It just doesn’t seem like a wise idea. And it’s not simply due to paranoia on his part.
The reporters may have largely stopped knocking, but Miles can’t shake his conviction that photographers might still be lurking out there somewhere, waiting for him to emerge.
The media certainly hasn’t lost interest in the case.
On Sunday, a whole bunch of new stories dropped online, and Caira’s face once again peered out from the front pages of the newspapers.
Some focused on her job: TV Angel’s career hell, a headline read.
One had a lengthy interview with Caira’s ex-boyfriend, Ben Knight, who spoke of his grief at losing who he described as his soulmate.
The way Ben told it, their relationship – and the domestic bliss that they shared – had merely been put on hold and they’d been destined to get back together.
But the worst article dropped a couple of days later – only twenty-four hours after they booked their flights to New Zealand.
One of the papers had been tipped off that he was going on what they described as a luxury getaway.
The way it was reported made it sound as if he was revelling in his newfound freedom, when the truth was the opposite – he was desperate to escape this feeling of the world closing in on him again.
There was also an element of betrayal to wrangle with; someone with a close knowledge of his life had tipped off a reporter.
He should have made it clear to everyone he knows that they need to be tight-lipped about their plans.
Too many people found out about the trip, and eventually one of them sold him out.
But even more unsettling is the content of his inbox.
Even though most of the abuse and trolling died off after a day or two, he continued to receive the Caira voice notes.
Three more arrived, making four in total.
Each one essentially a repetition of the first message, a vague threat, signed off with the same four words: this is not over.
Everyone Miles talked to seemed to be in agreement about how they were created; the recordings were made using some kind of AI voice simulator.
Each was sent from an email account set up in Caira’s name.
Miles found it particularly menacing how much thought had been put into these communications.
And the most recent was chilling for the way it referenced his upcoming trip: Have fun on your holiday, Miles. This is not over.
He has forwarded the messages to the police, but so far, he hasn’t received a meaningful response other than an email explaining they are looking into it.
He wishes they would hurry up. The sooner they identify the person sending them, the better, because, at the moment, the question is starting to eat away at him. Who is harassing him, and why?
When he arrives in New Zealand, he will allow his mind to clear.
When he gets to the most distant land possible, where no one knows who he is, he will be at peace.
He’ll check his emails less frequently. He will engage in healthy, mindful pursuits and activities.
He will reconnect with all the things he took for granted about a normal, carefree existence.
In the meantime, though, the emails have got him thinking back over the trial again, reliving it day by day.
What if his harasser was in court, watching him?
When the trial was happening, Miles was preoccupied by a completely different question.
All he could think of, when he looked around at the jury, at the public gallery, was: did they believe him?
Would they find him not guilty? Now, when he relives the experience, a different question is on his mind.
Who in that courtroom was so convinced by his guilt that they would never be able to accept his innocence, whatever the outcome?
Who there had already convicted him in their own mind?
Who had established a loathing of him that couldn’t be undone by any verdict?