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‘That’s bollocks. Of course I haven’t.’
‘They say Anna has recently received emails threatening her life.’
‘If she has, it’s nothing to do with me.’
‘Anna’s solicitor is claiming they are deliberate harassment calculated to scare your wife into backing off in the divorce,’ Ronnie continued as if Harry had not spoken.
‘This is bullshit. Laura Maxwell bullshit. It’s just the sort of thing she would invent as part of her campaign to destroy me,’ Harry said furiously.
‘Do you know a man called Paul Giles?’ Ronnie asked.
Harry hesitated. ‘Doesn’t ring a bell. Should it?’
‘It should do, yes. Supposedly he’s an old friend of yours. He sent the death threats to your wife.’
Harry stayed silent.
‘Don’t lie to me, Harry. I don’t like it.’ Ronnie looked disgusted.
‘All right, I was going to tell you before but you didn’t want to know, did you? It’s what those allegations in the divorce submission are all about. Paul Giles is an account set up by me.’
Ronnie grimaced. ‘You set up an email account, in a fake name, with the specific purpose of threatening your wife. Is that correct?’
‘No, it damn well isn’t. All I did was send her a couple of harmless messages.’
‘If they were so harmless why did you pretend they were from somebody else?’
‘Because I knew if she saw they were from me she’d just delete them, straight away, without reading a word. I just told her to stop … ’ he sucked air through his teeth, ‘being so fucking unreasonable.’
‘And when that didn’t have the desired effect you became more and more aggressive and then, still masquerading as Paul Giles, you explicitly threatened to kill her.’
‘No, I did not! It’s all being twisted, turned into something it isn’t.’ Harry’s hand touched the other man’s arm. ‘Come on, Ronnie, it’s what Laura Maxwell does.’ He said the name as if it was an obscenity.
Ronnie shook off the hand and finally looked Harry in the eye. ‘Let me give you some advice. If you have done what they say you’ve done, any of it or all of it, then it would be better to admit it now. The sentence will be lighter that way.’
‘I’ve told you everything there is to tell,’ Harry said stiffly. Fear rose inside him. So far as he could recall, in all their long acquaintance, the lawyer had never before suggested admitting anything.
‘I see.’ Ronnie’s disbelief was obvious. ‘I should let them know you’re awake,’ he said abruptly, getting up from his chair and saying a curt goodbye.
Harry assumed he was talking about the nurses until, as Ronnie opened the door to go, he caught sight of two of the policemen who had searched his home. They were standing outside his room and Ronnie stopped to talk to them.
He realized then that he had a police guard.
CHAPTER SEVEN (#ulink_76ce400e-f45a-5101-952d-8727747336b1)
Laura swallowed two more paracetamol, took off her glasses and tentatively touched the wound on her eyebrow. It had bled a lot at the time but the cut wasn’t deep and it hadn’t needed stitches. She had been lucky. A shiver went over her; she was not looking forward to the drive home tonight.
She began searching for the phone number of the lawyer in Tunis. She had met him a few years ago at an international conference on child abduction. He had been a ladies’ man, a bit of a pest really, but she thought he would remember her and might be willing to help. It would be almost impossible to get Ahmed Hakimi returned through the Tunisian courts. But there was another way; something she knew had been done before in this sort of case. It was a slim chance, it depended on luck and being in the right place at the right time. You wouldn’t want to pin your hopes on it, but it was worth a try.
Before she could find the number, there was a call from Monica at the front desk to let her know that Anna Pelham was in reception.
‘She hasn’t got an appointment but she says it’s urgent. Can you see her?’
Anna often dropped in unannounced though she always apologized for it. She rang up a lot too, but it didn’t bother Laura the way it sometimes did with other clients. Anna had had a rough time, was still having one, but she was determined not to be a victim any longer and to do the best she could for her daughter, Martha. Laura liked her for her guts and for never giving in to self-pity.
Anna had been putting on a brave face about Harry’s death threats but Laura thought she must be badly worried by them.
‘OK, no problem, I’ll be down in a minute.’ She picked up the Pelham file and went downstairs to the conference room where Anna was waiting for her.
‘I know I should have told you I was coming in, but my mind’s been all over the place. To be honest, I’m a bit scared.’ Anna smiled apologetically.
As usual, Anna was underplaying her own feelings and trying not to make a fuss. She didn’t often show signs that the divorce, or her husband, was getting to her, kept it all bottled up inside. For her to say she was ‘a bit scared’ most likely meant she was absolutely terrified. Laura guessed her self-effacing behaviour was the result of years of Harry’s abuse. He had conditioned her to stay quiet about what was happening to her in the hope of avoiding more punishment. Her own feelings were unimportant; she should keep her views to herself and take what she got without complaining.
Laura remembered how her own mother had behaved the same way, worn down to timidity and obedience by her domineering father, spending her life walking on eggshells, trying not to trigger another outburst.
‘I’ll get onto the police again; push them hard to take some action.’
‘That’s what I came to tell you. The police have been to see him. One of the neighbours rang me, she said they were at the house this morning. I thought you might be able to find out what’s happening.’
‘Of course I will. Did she say anything else?’
Anna shook her head. ‘I hardly know her. She only had my number because I once had to ask her to look after Martha for a couple of hours. She just said she thought I might want to know.’
Harry had discouraged Anna from talking to the neighbours, discouraged her from getting close to anyone or keeping up with her friends. He thought it best, Anna said, that they ‘kept themselves to themselves’. It was what men like Harry did; they isolated their victim, shrank their world so they rarely talked with anyone else, so they came to think the abuse was normal.
‘I’m worried what he might do next. I mean if they tell him I’ve complained about the threats, he’ll be really mad.’ Anna’s voice was shaky.
‘He’d be a fool to do anything with the police on his tail.’
‘I don’t think that will stop him. He does what he wants.’
At their first meeting, Anna had reluctantly told Laura what Harry had done to her for years. She had not wanted to give details but gradually Laura teased them out of her. Mental, sexual and physical abuse, he had ticked all the boxes. It had got worse after Martha was born.
‘When was the first time he hit you?’ Laura asked.
Anna’s face shadowed and she stared at the floor for a while.
‘Martha was three weeks old. It was a Sunday afternoon and we’d taken her out along the sea front when we ran into one of Harry’s business mates,’ Anna said, haltingly. ‘He made a big fuss of her, said what a cute baby she was. When we got home, after I’d put Martha down to sleep, Harry accused me of flirting with the man, smiling at him in a provocative way. I said that was ridiculous and then he punched me in the face. Just like that, no warning.’
Anna looked up from the floor, straight at Laura, suddenly worried. ‘I hadn’t done anything, really I hadn’t. The man asked me about Martha and I had to speak to him, didn’t I? I smiled at him, but it was just a normal smile, because I was happy to have such a lovely baby.’
The punch had split open both her lips. Harry had been sorry, terribly sorry. It would never happen again, he said.
By then, Anna was well aware of how sexually jealous her husband was. He was obsessed with details of her sex life before they met, made her write down all her previous sexual encounters in a small black notebook he kept locked in his desk.
Anna sat up straight on her chair, smoothed out the creases in her dress. She looked her usual immaculate self despite the stress she was under; careful make-up, manicured nails, smart clothes. She had every right to look a mess but she never did.
‘He liked me to look nice,’ Anna had told Laura. ‘Soon after we got married, he started telling me how to dress because he thought the clothes I usually wore were too slutty.’
Harry told her how to style her hair, how to behave and who she could talk to, which was hardly anyone; if she ever got it wrong, he would scream abuse at her.
‘I never knew what was going to upset him. He’d be OK one minute, then go crazy the next.’
As time went by, he hit her more often.
‘No matter how hard I cried in front of him, no matter how much I begged for him to stop hurting me and no matter how many times he said he was sorry and promised he’d stop, he never did.’ Anna’s voice was flat, desensitized.
Her words brought a vivid picture into Laura’s mind; her childhood self creeping out from her bedroom and tiptoeing down the stairs, listening to her father screaming at her mother, criticizing her, hearing her mother’s constant, feeble protest, ‘Don’t say that, darling,’ as she tried to placate him.
‘Is there any chance of getting him locked up?’ Anna asked.
‘No chance, I’m afraid. It would take an actual assault before that could happen.’
‘He’s done it often enough.’
‘The trouble is he’s never been charged and found guilty by a court.’
‘I should’ve reported it, I know that. But every time he was sorry and I thought that maybe if I could stop making so many mistakes, act better, not make him jealous, then it would stop.’
‘You didn’t make mistakes, Anna, he made you think you did but you didn’t. It’s what wife beaters always say – she made me do it.’
Anna nodded, took a tissue from her bag and blew her nose. ‘Sorry, Laura, sorry to make such a fuss. I’ll be OK in a minute.’
‘Let me talk to the police and find out what’s going on.’ Laura found the number in the file and called it while Anna waited. The officer she wanted wasn’t there and she left a message.
‘If we can persuade them to charge him with harassment, he’ll probably get bail but with a bit of luck there’ll be a condition that he can’t come anywhere near you.’ Laura thought for a second. ‘And we’ll press ahead with getting a non-molestation order from the family court to keep him away from you.’
‘Sometimes I think he’s watching the house.’
‘Have you seen him?’ Laura asked, worried.
Anna hesitated. ‘Maybe. I don’t know for sure. I get this creepy feeling like there’s someone out there. Martha gets it too.’
‘Is there anyone you could go and stay with for a few days or could come and stay with you?’ Laura instantly regretted the question. She’d asked before about family and friends and Anna had told her there wasn’t anybody; she was an only child and her parents were both dead. She had no close friends, Harry had seen to that.
‘I’m all right,’ Anna said, suddenly fierce. ‘I can cope. He’s not going to get away with it any more.’
There was a look on Anna’s face that Laura had seen before. A set, purposeful look and it meant that Anna had gone into fight-back mode, like a switch had flipped in her brain; the victim mentality was banished, replaced by total determination never again to let her husband bully or control her.
‘Don’t let up on him, Laura. I don’t want to give him an inch.’ Anna’s eyes were bright, not with tears this time, but with a kind of crusading zeal. The traumas she had gone through seemed to have given her strength; she wasn’t bowing her head now.
‘We’ll get there in the end. You’ve done fantastically well so far,’ Laura encouraged.
‘I couldn’t get through this without you, I’d fall apart.’ Anna shuddered then looked at her watch. ‘I should go, I have to pick up Martha.’
‘Soon as I hear from the police, I’ll you know.’
Anna stood up to leave and Laura stood too, gave her a hug.
‘Take care,’ she said.
Anna eyes went to the cut on Laura’s face. ‘You take care too.’
‘Oh, that. It’s nothing. Just me being careless.’
There was a knock on the door and Sam O’Donnell, the office manager and IT expert, stuck his head in.
‘Laura, sorry to interrupt but could I have a quick word when you’re free?’
‘It’s OK, I’m just going,’ Anna said.
Sam shut the door carefully behind her. He was a big bear of a man who liked a chat and a joke but now he stood silent, fidgeting with a piece of paper he had in his hand.
‘I thought you should see this. It was posted on our divorce forum.’
It was from someone with the username ‘themaxwellbitch’. Laura felt her face turn scarlet.
Morrison Kemp had a divorce message board on its website where members of the public could share experiences, give opinions, or ask advice and it was part of Sam’s job to keep an eye on it. The message had been added to a thread called ‘Final Settlement’.
‘I’ve removed it and blocked the sender so they can’t post any more,’ he told her.
Laura read it, conscious of Sam’s eyes on her. She hoped he wouldn’t be chatting about this.
‘Do you have any idea who did it?’
‘Afraid not. Whoever it is, is a bit of a joker though. The email they’ve used is registered as “marcus.morrison3”.’ Sam grinned awkwardly at her. ‘I know the boss can be a bit of a shit but I don’t think it’s him.’
Laura couldn’t raise a smile.
‘Sorry, Laura.’ Sam cleared his throat. ‘Lousy sense of humour.’
CHAPTER EIGHT (#ulink_97e7ae80-03f3-53a2-9330-1285bcdd343d)
‘Laura Maxwell, you are an evil bitch. You destroy lives. You feed off men’s misery – you take their daughters away from them. Understand how much I hate you. I think about it all the time, how to put a stop to you, how to settle the score. I’m not planning on settling in court. I have other plans for a final settlement. Better watch out.’
It was not the first time in her career that Laura had been called a bitch and threatened; in fact, she’d been called a lot worse and had had to grow a tough skin over the years. Really, she thought, the posting should not have rattled her as much as it did. But the last twenty-four hours had left her jittery.
Laura watched Joe as he read the message; saw his expression change to one of outrage. They’d been together for five years now but she never got tired of looking at him. He was distractingly handsome; tall and muscular, without being too beefy, he had thick black hair and a broad smile that brought dimples to his cheeks. His eyes, framed with long lashes, were blue and dazzling.
‘Charming. Any idea who sent it?’ he said.
‘I’m wondering if it could be this guy Harry Pelham. I’m representing his wife and he’s been sending her death threats. Maybe he’s lashing out at me too.’
They were sitting on the sofa after dinner, cosy in front of the TV, half watching a programme about the hotel industry. Joe had wanted to see it as it featured a hotel he knew further along the coast but he’d lost interest, complaining it was rubbish and only interested in negative, headline grabbing stuff. Laura took the chance to raise her own problems. She didn’t often discuss her work with Joe but tonight, just for once, she had an urgent need to spill it all out. She’d had a night and a day from hell and it had left her feeling anxious and vulnerable. She reached for the wine bottle on the table and poured herself another glass.
‘Have you talked to the police?’ he asked.
‘I got some info from them this afternoon. Harry Pelham was arrested this morning but now he’s in hospital for some reason. He’s under arrest there apparently, but I couldn’t get any more out of the duty officer and can’t speak to the guy in charge until tomorrow.’
