Chapter 31
Maya wore the lilac dress Conrad had bought her for her birthday one year, and when she turned up at his door that Friday night, he let out a low whistle.
‘I’m behind on my laundry,’ she fibbed, ‘so this was pretty much all I had left given how warm it is today.’
‘You get no arguments from me.’
He stood to the side to let her pass. Or more likely so he could leer after her as she walked along the hallway. The way he watched her rankled, it always did, but she had to put up with it tonight and think of the end goal. The laundry was more than up to date at home, but Maya knew the effect the dress would have on Conrad. As long as he didn’t see through it as a ploy to get him onside then step one of her plan would be in place.
‘Something smells good.’ She hoped some pleasantries would help him relax into the evening, revel in the fact he’d got her here for an intimate dinner for two.
‘Mediterranean chicken with garlic and herbs.’ His chest puffed with pride.
‘How did you manage the cooking?’
‘I cheated. Got the chicken pre-marinated, ordered in an online supermarket delivery. I’ve used new potatoes which didn’t require peeling and the vegetable tray was pre-prepared too. But all fresh. And…’ He opened the fridge and took out a bottle of Chablis. ‘I’ve got your favourite wine.’
It wasn’t her favourite, but tonight it would be. ‘Wow, it’s all wonderful. I’m impressed. Can’t have been easy to do one-armed.’
‘I’ll be glad to get rid of this cast.’
‘I’m sure you will be.’
The invite to dinner had come via a text message as she pulled up outside Noah’s place, before she knew Conrad had been badgering him. In the text, Conrad said he was going to speak with Isaac and that he wanted to see Maya and talk about their son, so he reiterated the previous offer to make her dinner as a thank you for everything she’d done to help him out.
Maya had ignored the text, shoved her phone in her bag, but then when she was with Noah and she knew what Conrad was up to, she’d come up with an idea.
And now she was here. But to stop Conrad sussing that something was off, she had to act normal, which meant not being overly accepting of everything her ex-husband said and did tonight.
‘Did you get hold of Isaac?’ she asked.
‘Not yet.’
‘Conrad…’
‘I thought we’d FaceTime while we wait for the dinner to be ready.’ He checked the timer on the oven. ‘We’ve got ten minutes.’ He’d managed to undo the screw top on the wine by putting the bottle between his legs and poured her a glass, which he handed to her before she could argue.
‘Ten minutes isn’t long.’ She had to grumble, because that’s what she’d usually do when he allocated such a small amount of time to their son. But actually it worked out well. It meant she wouldn’t have to keep up her pretence for so long if they got on with this and the evening progressed.
‘It’s long enough, Maya.’ And at least a frostiness laced his tone. It would be the way he’d usually react to such a comment from her.
They made the call on Maya’s phone – Conrad knew that was the safest bet for Isaac to answer.
‘Hey, Mum.’ He was smiling but that changed when Conrad came into view. ‘Hey, Dad,’ he added a lot more sombrely. ‘What’s going on?’
‘We wanted to talk to you,’ she beamed.
‘How’s the exams going, son?’ Conrad asked, closer to Maya than she would’ve liked. His breath fell across her shoulder and down her chest.
‘They finished ages ago,’ Isaac deadpanned.
‘How’s the job?’ Maya asked. Was Conrad so out of touch with his son’s life that he’d forgotten term finished and now he was working?
‘It’s good thanks, Mum.’
Maya moved the conversation on to talk about the Christmas and New Year trip, or more like they all argued about it. Conrad wasn’t backing down, neither was Isaac and Maya knew it was impossible for her to get time off and be away from Whistlestop River.
Isaac ended the debate with, ‘I’m nineteen years old; I think that’s old enough to make my own decisions.’ He didn’t say it in anger, he didn’t direct it only at Conrad. But he did say it with an air of finality, tiredness at having the same argument weighing his words down even though he wanted to make his point.
Maya knew exactly what Conrad’s reply would be too and he didn’t disappoint. ‘Son, me and your mother are funding this little escapade?—’
‘University is not an escapade,’ Isaac butted in. ‘It’s study. It’s my future.’
Maya could’ve applauded her son; it was the sternest voice he’d ever used talking to his dad who thought university a waste of time, a waste of money, that Isaac and the rest of the people at university should join the real world and get a job.
‘Let’s talk when you’re home,’ said Maya.
‘See you soon,’ he said in reply. And then he came closer to the camera as he leaned forward to end the call.
‘Why did he have to end it so quickly?’ Conrad spat. ‘He’s a bit soft if he can’t deal with a little confrontation. No son of mine is going to be soft.’
Isaac was soft but in a good way. He was kind, empathetic, just two of the things his father very much wasn’t. ‘You and Isaac need to sort out your differences. You wanted me here because you were going to talk to him, which I assumed meant you were going to be reasonable.’ She’d known he wouldn’t be but again, she had to stay in character as herself.
‘I was reasonable! And it’s not like I’m asking him to take a holiday in a concentration camp. He should be bloody thankful. A lot of kids would be.’
‘Most kids his age do what they please at nineteen.’
‘Maybe that’s the problem.’
She couldn’t let tonight go sideways; there was too much riding on it. ‘I’m glad he cut the call short because I’m really, really hungry.’
‘Better sort the dinner then.’ But she could tell he was glad of the reprieve from more differences of opinion about their son.
In the kitchen, Conrad checked the timer for how long was left before everything was ready and, true to form – and because he hated wine – he plucked a small glass from the cupboard and set it down next to the bottle of vodka.
‘Here, let me,’ she offered before he could attempt to open it.
Conrad got the Coke while Maya poured a measure of the spirit, slightly more than he’d usually have but not enough to alert him, and she topped it up with the Coke. If she played this well tonight, she could get him relaxed and the more he relaxed, the more he’d drink which usually had the benefit of sending him to sleep. It had frustrated her when they were first married, but in later years, she’d come to appreciate the peace and quiet.
Maya took the vegetables from the oven rather than have him try one-handed and put them into a serving dish. ‘We can help ourselves.’
‘Bit posh but okay,’ he sniggered.
She set the vegetables on the mats in the centre of the table in the dining room and while he couldn’t see her, she poured the rest of her wine into the flowerpot on the sideboard with an apology to the plant for not giving it the nutrients it needed.
‘Let me get you a top-up,’ he said as soon as she went back to the kitchen and he assumed she’d drunk it all. ‘Knew it was your favourite.’
Another thing about Conrad was that he liked to have company when he was having a drink. He’d never liked it when she only had one glass and then stopped. He thought it was dull and it left him in a bad mood, which she really didn’t want tonight.
‘I’ll do it,’ she told him, ‘you spoon out the chicken.’
She pulled the wine from the fridge and poured a glass full, but while he took one plate at a time through to the other room, she poured half the wine away and topped the glass up with water. Conrad came back for the second plate and when he disappeared with that one, she topped up his glass with a little more vodka.
He winced at his first sip at the table. But it was a taste he liked. He’d just think she was rubbish at judging quantities and sure enough, he focused on filling his face with his food.
‘This is damn good,’ he said as he started eating, mouth full, fork ready to shovel in more. Eyes down at the plate, nothing wrong with his appetite.
Maya, on the other hand, felt nauseous at whether her idea was even going to stand a chance. But she forced out the words, ‘It’s all lovely, thank you.’
‘I’ll get this again.’ He was eating as though his food might disappear if he didn’t get it down his neck quicksmart. ‘What do you think, Maya? Good, isn’t it?’
She murmured agreement. ‘Perhaps you could make it for Isaac when he’s home. You could talk about his course, find out what it’s really about.’
‘Yeah.’ Which really meant no. Conrad was selfish, he liked it to all be about him, and having Maya here would be all he could focus on now. She expected he was thinking of ways to help her relax, hence the wine, and get her into bed if she let her guard down.
By the time dinner and a dessert of tiramisu was over and Maya had got Conrad several top-ups of his drink, she could tell he was beginning to head towards the sleepy state she needed.
In the lounge, he flopped onto the sofa.
‘I’m not sure how long I can stay,’ she said, hoping he wasn’t so sleepy he didn’t mind whether she left or not. ‘Why don’t I clear up the kitchen for you?’
‘No way.’ He patted the sofa. ‘Sit down, you’re a guest.’
The last thing she wanted was to sit with him and have him start mauling her if she was in easy reach.
‘You’ve only got the use of one arm. I’ll clear up then I’ll come sit down.’
He swigged the last of his drink.
She didn’t ask if he wanted another, just took the glass, refilled it and brought it back before she went out to clear the kitchen.
By the time the dishwasher began its cycle, Conrad was fast asleep in front of the television.
And now it was time to sneak upstairs to do what needed to be done.
When Noah had mentioned the brown folder Conrad had waved at him as his little bargaining chip, Maya hadn’t taken long to think back to the similar folders she’d spotted at Conrad’s previously when he told her he was doing paperwork. The folders were nowhere to be seen now but her first port of call was the study upstairs, the most likely place for their relocation.
She cursed when she opened the door and saw the desk with a whole stack of brown folders like the one Noah had described, none of them labelled, at least not with wording that meant anything to her. She supposed it would have been too much to ask for one to have ‘Evidence Noah needs’emblazoned on the front.
She went through one folder, a second, a third, a fourth. She was about to go through a fifth when she spotted a brown file wedged up on the bookshelf next to a few years’ worth of the Guinness Book of Records. He’d always liked those for some reason.
She pulled it down. It had to be this one, separate from the others, there to grab when he got what he wanted and he felt Noah had stayed away long enough for Maya to lose any interest in him, or for Conrad to worm his way back into her life. The man was seriously deluded.
She knew she’d found what she was looking for when she opened the file and skimmed the information and the photographs. The man profiled in these reports had to be the infamous Paul.
She swiftly took pictures on her phone of each document, including photographs and witness statements. She took in some of the unbelievable information she was reading along the way, her heart thumping at the enormity of it all. She was aware she could be committing a crime here but Noah, and more importantly Eva, was what mattered. And Conrad was well and truly on the wrong side of the law taunting Noah with this in the first place.
She slotted the file back where she’d found it and made her way down the stairs, but in the dark, she hadn’t seen Conrad waiting at the bottom.
‘What the hell are you doing up there?’
‘Bathroom,’ she stammered.
‘I didn’t hear the toilet flush,’ he slurred, leaning casually against the front door, obstructing her exit.
‘I was checking my make-up.’
‘There’s a mirror down here.’
‘Didn’t want to put the light on and wake you.’
‘Why are you checking your make-up? I’ve seen you without it plenty of times.’
He was quick even though he’d been drinking. He was a good detective, took no shit from anyone and knew how to drill for answers. He’d done it to her enough times during their marriage.
‘I had an eyelash in my eye, thought I’d smudged my mascara. I didn’t want to be pulled over on my way home and completely embarrassed.’ She smiled, falsely. ‘Any chance of a cup of tea?’
He contemplated her story and either he believed her or she’d soon be in for another round of questions. Whatever way, she had to get out of here.
‘You and your tea,’ he moaned but nevertheless didn’t stop her when she headed into the kitchen. It was the same pattern when they’d been together; she’d have a glass of wine or two and then want a tea and he hated it because it meant he’d be drinking alone.
She put the kettle on, offered him one which he refused, and did her best to steady her hands. They were shaking at the close call but she had to hold it together a bit longer.
The next half an hour was the most painful of all as she waited for him to drift off again, but sure enough, he did, and she didn’t even alert him that she was leaving.
She walked out of the door and didn’t look back.
And hopefully she had everything Noah needed.