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‘Hey,’ Rob says, coming into my study. ‘It’s three thirty, love. What are you doing?’
‘Couldn’t sleep,’ I say, minimising the accounts on my screen and switching onto a blank Google tab.
Rob comes around my desk and stands behind me. ‘What you up to? Tell me you’re not working at this ungodly hour.’
‘No. Just a bit of pointless surfing online in the hope I might feel sleepy.’
‘Hmm,’ Rob says, making a noise deep in his throat. ‘Not sure staring at a bright screen will do that.’ He takes hold of my shoulders and presses his fingers into my muscles.
‘Mmm, God, I’m tense,’ I say. Anything to distract him from asking questions.
‘You are,’ he says. ‘Was I snoring again?’
‘A little,’ I laugh, wishing that was the real reason for me being up.
‘It’s him, isn’t it?’
I tip back my head and stare up at Rob, giving a little nod. ‘I’m rattled as much as you are, but what can we do?’ I say, completely at odds with what I’m thinking.
‘Rattled is an understatement,’ Rob replies, hitting a particularly sore spot and making me wince.
‘I’m hoping it’ll fizzle out soon enough,’ I say, knowing it won’t. ‘And as for this nonsense about Belle leaving school, I’ll call the head tomorrow and have a word. Even if she takes a couple of weeks off at the start of term, it’s not a disaster. She can catch up once she sees sense.’
Once I’ve found a way to get rid of him…
‘Well, I don’t like it one bit,’ Rob replies. ‘And I don’t think leaving things to chance is the best plan any more, either. Don’t hate me, Han, but I had a word with a couple of lads in the pub when I stopped off on the way back from work.’
I twist round in my chair. ‘Lads?’
Rob comes and sits down on the corner of my desk. ‘Yeah, some of Doug’s blokes from the recycling centre.’
‘Jesus, Rob.’
Doug is one of Rob’s closest friends. They’ve known each other a few years, having met at the rugby club. Doug is six foot four and built like a tank, and so are most of the guys he employs at his scrap metal business. They all get together once every couple of weeks down at the Three Feathers for a few pints.
‘I don’t mean anything too heavy, just a bit of a warning. Freak him out a bit.’
‘Duff him over down a dark alley, you mean?’ Rob doesn’t know I’m being sarcastic. And neither does he know that he’s playing with fire even thinking of such a thing.
‘Teach the jumped-up little twat a lesson.’
‘So, what, they’re going to threaten to knock his head off unless he leaves Belle alone?’
Rob nods. ‘Said they’d do it for fifty quid each. They’ve got daughters. They understand. Think about it, love. It makes sense.’
Not if you knew what I knew, it doesn’t, I think, but keep quiet. Vaughn and his cronies would make mincemeat of Doug’s lads, burly and tough or not. They’d hit back where it hurts – their families.
‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ I say. ‘You can’t resort to violence.’
‘Well, what do you bloody suggest, Hannah?’ Rob paces about the study, his bare feet sinking into the plush carpet. His shoulders are hunched within his check pyjama top, and his head is bent forward in thought. ‘We can’t let this ridiculous…relationshipcontinue, can we?’
‘No, but—’
‘The more we say no to Belle, the more she’ll go against us. The only option is for us to take matters into our own hands and warn him off.’
‘Do you want a visit from the police?’ Once they’re involved, it’s game over for me. I know for a fact that Vaughn and his lot will have cover stories to cover their cover stories. They’re untouchable. I’m not.
‘If that’s what it takes, then yes. We’ve got nothing to hide. He’s a bloody paedophile.’
