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‘Can’t say I’m surprised about that. He probably feels ashamed. You’ve left him, he doesn’t want to face any of it.’
‘But it’s strange that his PA at work hasn’t heard from him. He’s been in contact with her every day since he got out of hospital. And suddenly nothing.’
Before she can answer, Poppy appears, carrying the dog. ‘Can Peach sit on my lap while I eat?’ she asks.
‘No, she won’t like that,’ Mum says. ‘Dogs aren’t good at sitting still.’
Poppy sets her down and sits at the table.
My mum tries to distract her during dinner, asking her about the flat we’re staying in, and how school is going.
Poppy answers politely, but she’s quiet and not her usual self. She often talks at a hundred miles an hour, saying whatever she’s thinking with no filter.
When it’s approaching her bedtime, I tell Mum we have to get going, and she walks us out to the car.
‘Maybe you should report him missing,’ she whispers, when I’ve buckled Poppy into her car seat and walked around to the driver’s side. ‘If you’re worried. I’ve been thinking, and that’s what I’d do. You don’t have to wait until it’s been a few days. If it’s out of character then it’s important they’re aware.’
She’s right. Even though my instinct is telling me Max has disappeared on purpose. Why, I have no idea. All I know is that he’s not going to let Poppy go. Ever.
I hug Mum goodbye and drive back to Taylor’s, all the time hoping the silver Golf will appear in my rear-view mirror.It doesn’t, of course, and this only makes me more nervous. Fearful. Because I have no control over anything.
When Poppy’s in bed, lost to slumber, I sit in the living room with a glass of wine. I’m wearing a thick wool cardigan and two layers underneath it to save putting the heating on. Taylor’s doing enough for us already – I don’t want to take advantage and hike up his utility bills.
Thinking of him now reminds me I haven’t told him about my encounter with the driver of that car. I reach for my phone and text him, leaving out the more harrowing details. And I tell him I’ve already got the money.
His reply is instant:I’m coming over.
He’s here within half an hour, messaging me when he’s outside the door so that he doesn’t wake Poppy.
‘Hi,’ he says, when I open the door. ‘I didn’t want to use my key. I want you to feel that it’s your place while you’re staying here.’
I hold up my glass. ‘I’m on the wine. Poppy was so tired she actually fell asleep quite early. Can I get you one?’
He laughs. ‘Well, it is Friday night. And I’m glad Poppy seems to be settling.’
In the kitchen, while I’m pouring a glass for Taylor, I wonder how it’s possible that he can make me feel so at ease, when everything I thought I knew about my life has been blown apart.
‘You’re not going to like this,’ Taylor says. ‘But there’s a reason I came here.’
My back stiffens. ‘What is it? Have you found something out? Is it Max?’
‘No. Nothing like that. It’s…’ His face flushes. ‘I came because I’ve already lost one person I care about. And I don’t want to lose another. Sorry. You seem like the last person who needs lookingafter, but I’d never forgive myself if anything happened to you.’ He takes the glass I hand him. ‘I know you can handle yourself, but when you messaged that you’d talked to the driver of that Golf, I just…’ He looks away. ‘I’m sorry. This whole situation is crazy. I’ve only just met you…but I feel so comfortable around you.’ He gestures with his free arm. ‘Even with all of this going on.’
‘Let’s sit,’ I say, pulling out a chair. Taylor puts down his glass and does the same.
I study his face, choosing my words carefully. This is something I’ve thought myself over the last few days. ‘I’m not a replacement for Alice,’ I say. ‘And you’re not one for Max. I don’t think either of us can trust how we’re feeling at the moment. This isn’t a normal situation. But if there’s anything there after all of this is…resolved, then that’s a different story.’
Taylor considers what I’ve said, lifting his glass. ‘Got it.’
‘But I do know what you mean. About feeling comfortable. I mean, I do too.’
He smiles and nods. ‘So, fifteen grand. That’s a lot of money, Hannah. I really don’t think you should do it. There has to be another way to get him to talk.’
‘Money’s the only thing people like him will listen to.’
Taylor sighs. ‘I just don’t like it. Not just that it’s a huge amount, but that he’s clearly a dangerous man.’
‘He didn’t deny he’d been sent to follow me. He pretty much said he does whatever he’s told by the person paying him.’ As I say this, I wonder how I can speak with such detachment. As if it’s not me who my husband has paid a hitman to follow. But thinking of it now turns my blood to ice.
