Home > The Good Samaritan(65)

The Good Samaritan(65)
Author: John Marrs

There was nothing else I could say or do to pacify them, so I left the flat and staggered towards the car.

I no longer had any choice in what to do next. I knew I had to go and see the only person who could bring an end to all of this, and beg the woman who killed my wife and baby to show me mercy.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

LAURA

‘I assume you weren’t expecting to find me here?’ I said.

Janine hovered by the door, debating whether to leave, or stay and face the music. She hesitated, before curiosity got the better of her.

‘No, I wasn’t,’ she replied.

‘Take a seat.’

She didn’t move. ‘I don’t answer to you, Laura.’

‘But you want to know why I’ve gone to the trouble of getting you here though, don’t you?’

‘If it was you who put Ryan Smith’s name in my diary, then I’m quite sure I can guess why. You’ve learned that he and I have met, and now you want to convince me that he’s some kind of fantasist who has an obsession with you. Does that about cover it?’

‘And what would you say if I said yes?’

‘I’d tell you that when he first called asking to see me and gave a brief outline of why, I did think that he was just a troubled soul. Then I’d tell you that I did a little background research and discovered he was a teacher.’

‘Did he mention that he’s also taught my daughter Effie?’

‘No.’

‘Or that he spent months grooming her before making sexual advances towards her? She’s fourteen years old. He’s currently suspended, pending investigation.’

‘No, he didn’t. But then I only have your word for that, don’t I? And you are hardly the epitome of honesty, are you?’

Janine sank her shapeless frame into the sofa opposite mine, crossed her legs and folded her arms.

‘Your body language is quite hostile,’ I continued.

‘Let’s just say that you don’t bring out the best in me.’

I leaned forward. ‘And why is that?’

‘I’m not like the others upstairs who think the sun shines out of your backside. They only like to see the good in people, but I can see what they can’t. I’m not blind to how you operate; I’ve watched you manipulate people with your Mary Poppins act. You can float into the office on an umbrella with your store-bought cakes and the clothes you pretend you’ve repaired. And you can impersonate a wonderful, devoted-to-her-family mum as much as you like, but I can see through you.’

‘I’ve never claimed to be perfect.’

‘You’ve never tried to dispel the myth either.’

‘You made a judgement about me without knowing me. From the day you started, you disliked me.’

‘And I was right to, wasn’t I? I’m a good judge of character and I’ve met plenty of people like you over the years. You convince everyone that you’re on their side but it’s all for show, it’s all to hide who you really are.’

‘Who am I then? Enlighten me.’

‘You’re someone who gets her kicks from encouraging vulnerable people to die.’ When no expression crossed my face, she continued. ‘Ryan was right about what you did to his wife, wasn’t he? And she wasn’t the first. That’s why this branch’s suicide statistics are higher than any others, because you are actively encouraging it.’

My eyes flicked towards the security cameras. Their green lights didn’t flash, indicating they weren’t recording.

Finally, I gave her a condescending smile. ‘There is one thing that I like about you, Janine – and believe me, it’s only one thing – your self-belief. You really think everything that comes out of your own mouth is the gospel truth.’

‘When it comes to you, yes, I do.’

‘And just so it’s clear, your perception of me has nothing to do with the fact that you’re screwing my husband?’

Janine’s calm composure faltered ever so slightly before she quickly regained it. ‘So it was you, then . . . The word scratched into my car door. I told Tony that it was your doing, but he was adamant you didn’t know about us.’

I was happy to hear my husband still saw the good in me.

‘You try to put me down and make these horrible accusations, when all you really want to do is push me out of End of the Line so you don’t have to see my face every day and feel guilty for what you’ve done to my marriage. You’re a homewrecker.’

‘I’ve done nothing wrong, so I don’t feel guilty about anything. Tony and me got together long after he walked out on your madness.’

‘But you set your sights on him before that, didn’t you? I saw your hopeless attempts to flirt with him at Mary’s sixtieth birthday dinner.’

‘Only they weren’t hopeless, were they?’ She gave me a sly smile.

‘And I suppose you think you know me after everything my husband has told you about me?’

‘He’s said very little, actually.’

‘Do you expect me to believe that?’

‘I don’t care what you believe. But for some reason, probably only because you’re the mother of his children, he still feels a sense of loyalty towards you.’

I was pleased to hear Tony kept secrets from Janine, and I knew just why he hadn’t told her about my personal business. Four years earlier, he’d coerced me into ‘borrowing’ £25,000 of End of the Line’s charitable donations to help him when he set up his insurance business. I still had the bank account numbers of where the payments had really gone. They were so cleverly squirrelled away that even the charity’s auditors had no clue that money meant for them had been directed elsewhere.

Even if it meant dropping myself in it, I’d have gone to the police with them had Tony not allowed me to see Effie the day we met with the head teacher. And, as you don’t keep secrets from the one you love, clearly Tony didn’t love Janine.

‘Did he tell you we spent the night together recently?’ I said. ‘Several nights, actually.’

‘When?’

‘After I was attacked.’

‘That’s right, your “attack”.’ She used her fingers to mime speech marks. ‘Did they ever catch the person responsible?’

I didn’t reply.

‘I thought not,’ she said. ‘Funny, that. And Tony was at great pains to point out that he spent the first night on the armchair in your room and the next couple in the spare bedroom.’

‘Is that what he told you?’

‘It’s what I saw. I came to your house when you were asleep to drop a change of clothes off to him the night of your “attack”. I love how you’ve kept the smoke-damaged walls. It’s very shabby-chic.’ She let out a yawn that seemed to take her by surprise.

She had violated my space. She had been in my house.

I swallowed hard to keep my anger at arm’s length.

‘No one here likes you,’ I said, ‘so when I tell them what you’ve accused me of, they’ll all be on my side. And then I’ll go to head office and tell them their biggest fundraiser and treasurer is being bullied out of her job by her husband-stealing manager.’

‘Go ahead, Laura, be my guest,’ she replied, and reached into her ugly orange handbag to remove Ryan’s Dictaphone. ‘I’d love to know what they’ll say when I play this to them.’

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