The chauffeur led Julian to a bathroom where his clothes were folded on a chair. When Julian reached for them, the chauffeur shook his head and pointed to the shower. Julian stepped into the cubicle and turned on the water. The chauffeur watched through the glass as he washed away every external trace of whatever had happened in the bedroom.
After towelling himself dry and dressing, Julian followed the chauffeur down a flight of stairs. The same red carpeting ran all the way through the house. Apart from that the house’s interior was fairly nondescript — unadorned white walls, flat panelled doors, no furniture. The exterior was equally unremarkable. It was a large, square, brick house with a flat roof, the only unusual feature being that its downstairs windows were high enough above the ground to prevent anyone looking in — as if the isolated location wasn’t private enough in itself for the purposes of what went on within. There was a time when those windows would’ve appealed to Julian, but not anymore. Now they just seemed sinister. A broad lawned area surrounded the house, rising to some dense shrubbery, split by the driveway. Julian’s car was parked beside the Merc in front of the house. The chauffeur mutely handed Julian his keys and, to his surprise, the survival knife. He approached his car, his step faltering as he spotted the dog sat on the lawn a short distance away. It sprang into motion suddenly, the muscles on its flanks rippling as it raced across to him with long, loping strides. He glanced back to see if it was responding to some signal from the chauffeur, but the hulking figure remained as impassive as ever. He broke into a limping run. The dog reached him as he opened the car door. He tensed, expecting to feel its teeth sink into his flesh again, but all it did was press its nose against his bandaged ankle, sniffing.
As Julian drove away, a pain far worse than any the dog could’ve inflicted ate at his mind — the pain of knowing about his dad and of not knowing about Mia. And a burning sense of guilt filled his heart, scorching away the last vestiges of unreality, leaving behind something that seemed to him too dirty ever to be made clean.
The morning sun peeped over the heads of the trees, dappling the road with shadows, as Julian neared town. Panic drained through him at the thought of confronting his dad, but he didn’t hesitate. The stomach-churning images he’d seen kept replaying in his mind, propelling him onwards. They made him feel like thousands of insects were crawling over his skin. He tried to banish the sensation by opening the window, letting air rush over him. A bad smell hit his nostrils. He closed the window, but it made no difference. The smell seemed to be coming from everywhere at once, almost gag-inducing. He glanced at the suburban houses, wondering how many of them were inhabited by Mr X’s ‘decent, honest people’. All of them and none of them, came his mind’s embittered reply. Lies everywhere. Nothing but stinking, rotten lies.
When Julian pulled up outside his parents’ house, he sat gripping the steering-wheel. Seconds passed, minutes. He couldn’t bring himself to get out of the car, couldn’t even bring himself to look at the house. He stared at the garden — its manicured lawns, its well-pruned shrubs and well-weeded flower beds. He looked at the forest beyond, pressing close to the fence, the trees digging their roots under it, the ivy creeping over it. How long, he wondered, would it take for the forest to reclaim the garden if there was no one to care for it? How long would it take for a lifetime’s labour and love to be obliterated? Ten years? Twenty? Not even the blink of an eye on an evolutionary timescale.
“Not even the blink of an eye,” he murmured, tears pinching the corners of his eyes.
Julian jerked around at a knock on the passenger-door window. His dad’s smiling face was peering through the glass at him. He was ready for work, his hair neatly combed, his face closely shaven. His eyes were full of anticipation and hope. For the first time in a long time he looked truly happy. Julian hated him suddenly. Hated him with every cell of his body. He felt like springing out of the car, grabbing a fistful of his throat and demanding to know, how the fuck can you smile when your daughter’s missing?
Julian lowered the window and Robert said, “Where’ve you been all night?” Before Julian could reply, speaking fast and excitedly, he went on, “Never mind. Great news, Jules. The buyer decided to go with us. He’s put in an order that’s even bigger than I’d hoped for. Big enough not only to keep us afloat, but to make us profitable again.”
“Great news,” agreed Julian, his voice flat, hollow.
Robert didn’t appear to notice. “You’d better hurry and get changed for work. It’s going to be a busy day.”
“I’m not going-”
Robert spoke over Julian. “We’ve got a hell of a lot to do if we’re going to get this order out on time. We need to contact our suppliers and order extra, well, extra everything. We need to talk to the staff, find out who’s willing to work overtime. We might even need to look into taking on some new-”
“Shut the fuck up!” The words burst out of Julian like bullets. Robert stared at him, wide-eyed, mouth hanging open. Anger pulsing behind his eyes, Julian said, “I know, Dad.”
“Know what?”
“Everything.” Julian stabbed his finger at the videotape on the front-passenger seat. “I know everything.”
Robert looked at the tape. ‘Robert Harris. 14/9/94’ was written on it. He screwed his eyes shut and opened them, blinking as if unsure where he was. An expression of sudden, sick clarity settled on his face. He clutched the window-frame as if for support, head sagging. His mouth worked soundlessly a moment, before he managed to say, “How?”
“Mr X gave it to me.”
Robert lifted a stunned, bewildered face to Julian. “Why?”
“He says you’re all used up, squeezed dry.”
“But I paid him.” Anger flashed in Robert’s eyes. He drove the heel of his hand into the car door with enough force to dent it. “I fucking paid him! I fucking…” His voice trailing off, he stared as if dead at the ground for half-a-minute, before murmuring, “I always knew this day would come. I’ve been waiting for it for fifteen years.”
“How could you do such a thing?”
“It was just one time. I let it get the better of me one time. I’ve hated myself for it ever since.”
“Liar! If you hated yourself for it, why did you abandon your children?” As Robert jerked his gaze up in horrified astonishment, Julian continued, “That’s right, I know about Mia and Jake. I told you, I know everything.”
“Did he tell you about them?” Robert said the word ‘he’ with trembling hate in his voice.
“No. I worked that one out all by myself. How could you do it to them? How could you let them grow up like that?”
“I did it for you and your mother.”
“Don’t you fucking dare.” Julian spoke through clenched teeth. “Don’t you dare try to use us as an excuse.”
“What else was I supposed to do? I would’ve lost everything over two children I couldn’t even be sure were mine.”
“You fucking weasel!” The force of Julian’s words took even him by surprise. “You knew. You fucking knew they were yours!”
“Please, Julian, try to understand. I worked so hard for what I had. I couldn’t just throw that away.” Robert gave a hopeless shake of his head. “But how can you understand? You’ve never known a day’s want in all your life.”
“So it was about money.”
“It was about protecting what I love. I love you, Julian.”
The words — words Julian had waited all his life to hear — sliced through the hard, blackened lump that was his heart. “Don’t,” he said, his voice thickening and hoarse. “You’ve got no right to say that to me. Not now.”
“If I’d acknowledged those children, who would it have benefited?” Robert pressed on, sensing his son’s weakness. “Nobody. My marriage would’ve been over. My business ruined. I wouldn’t have been able to give them or you any kind of life. So I made a choice. And every day since, I’ve lived with that choice.”
“Yes, you’ve lived with it. But Deborah Bradshaw couldn’t. She died because of your choice, indirectly or directly.”
“What are you suggesting?” A fresh wave of disbelief swept over Robert’s face. “Christ, are you suggesting I murdered her? Do you really think me capable of such a thing?”
“I don’t know what it’s capable of.”
At the mention of it, Robert lowered his eyes again as if to hide what was behind them. “I may be a fucking bastard, Julian, but I’m not a monster.”
“How can I believe you?”
“Because I’m your father and I’ve never lied to you.”
Julian shook his head, incredulous. “No, you’ve never lied to me, but you’ve never told me the truth either.”
“I know what I’ve done is unforgivable. So I’m not going to ask for your forgiveness, Julian. But I am asking you to spare your mum. She’s been through so much already. This would finish her off.”
“Maybe that’d be for the best.”
Robert shifted his gaze back to Julian, eyes glazed with shock. “How can you say such a thing?”
“You’ve made her life a lie, and I’m not sure I can bear the thought of her living that life any longer.”
“You don’t mean that, Julian. You’re upset. Not thinking straight.”
“I’m thinking perfectly straight, for perhaps the first time in my life. You’re the embodiment of everything she hates.” Julian winced with revulsion. “The thought of you touching her, kissing her, it makes me want to puke.”
Face twitching, Robert wrung his hands. For a second, Julian thought his dad was going to fall apart completely, collapse in a heap. But then he took a steadying breath. “Okay, let’s talk about this, see if we can come to some sort of agreement,” he said, putting on his business-face. “I can’t undo what I’ve done, but I can try to put things right as best I can. I’ll give Jake, and Mia if she turns up alive, the life they deserve. I’ll pay for their schooling, find them jobs, whatever it takes. They wouldn’t have to know where the money was coming from. I could go through a third party. It’d be difficult, but it can be arranged.”
“So why didn’t you arrange it years ago, before Mia was driven to prostitution, before Jake became a junkie thief?”
“I’m offering to do it now, aren’t I? Isn’t that enough?”
“Nowhere near.”
“Well, you tell me what you want from me?”
“This isn’t about what I want.”
Robert’s business-face started to slip. Worms of sweat beaded his forehead. “How about this: I’ll go away permanently. I’ll tell your mum I’ve met someone else. She’ll be devastated, but she’ll survive that. I’ll leave everything to you — my savings, the business, everything.”
“That’d just be another lie to add to the list.”
“Yes, but a lie to protect someone we both love.”
“And you get to walk away from all of this, start a new life. No, I don’t think so.”
“A new life?” Robert let out a ragged, pitiful laugh at the idea. “You and Christine are the only life I’ll ever have. Without you I’m nothing.”
Julian was silent a moment, as if mulling over the offer. “It could work, except-”
“Except fucking what?” exploded Robert, his face changing with the suddenness of a mask falling away. A vein throbbed down the centre of his forehead. His lips twitched. His eyes bulged, the pupils huge and black, the blackness stretching back seemingly deeper than light could penetrate.
Julian tensed, ready to defend himself if necessary. “Except you could do this again to somebody else.”
“It was just one time. One fucking time,” Robert ranted. “And she wasn’t forced into it. She was well paid.”
“And that excuses it?”
“Of course fucking not, but-” Robert broke off, catching his anger. The vein receded, his pupils shrank. His voice quiet with shame, he continued, “Of course not. Nothing excuses it. And I’d rather die than do it to somebody else.” His eyes filmed with tears. “Is that what you want? Do you want me to jump off the bridge too?”
Julian’s voice softened a fraction. “No, I don’t want that. But like I said, it’s not about what I want. It’s about what Mr X wants.”
“Mr X.” Robert spat the name out as if it tasted impossibly disgusting. “What more can he want from me than he’s already taken?”
“It’s not what he wants from you, it’s what he wants from me.”
Robert scrunched his forehead, perplexed. “You? Why should he want anything from you?”
Julian released a breath that seemed to have been bottled up inside him for years. “You know, I used to wonder why you kept your distance, why you never hugged or kissed me. Now I understand. You were afraid — afraid your touch would infect me with what’s inside you. Well you needn’t have worried. It was already in me. Mr X drew it out.”
Robert grimaced as if Julian’s words were pins that pierced deep under his skin. They looked at each other, their eyes like open windows. A shock of connection thrilled between them, instantly followed by a shock of realisation — the soul-rending realisation that the thing which had finally, truly brought them together had also torn them apart.
“What did you do?” The question grated from Robert’s lips.
His voice heavy with shame, Julian started to recount what’d happened with Nikki and at Mr X’s house. “Hang on,” cut in Robert. “So you don’t know for sure that you did anything.”
“No, but what about the blood?”
“The blood proves nothing. It might not even have been human.”
“It was.”
“How can you know that?”
“Because of what’s in here and here.” Julian slammed his fist against his chest and head with bruising force. “You see, Dad, I’m a lot like you, but not exactly the same. I have my own dreams and nightmares.”
“What dreams? What nightmares? What are they about?”
“The same thing they’ve always been about. Only now, instead of being attacked, I’m the one doing the attacking.”
Robert shook his head. “You could never do anything like that to anybody. I know you couldn’t.”
“Really. Then you must know me better than I know myself.” A vein of bitter insincerity ran through Julian’s voice.
His fingers whitening on the window-frame, Robert continued to shake his head with increasing vehemence. “He’s bluffing. The bastard’s bluffing.”
“Maybe. But what if he isn’t?”
Robert jutted his face forward, his eyes like knives trying to slice through the fog of Julian’s mind. “Think! Try to remember what happened.”
Julian tried again, vainly. “It’s no good. It’s as if part of my memory has been cut out.”
“Fuck! This can’t be happening. I won’t let it. I won’t let him do to you what he’s done to me.” Tremors of rage and hate shook Robert as he whirled suddenly to head for his car.
Julian stared after him a moment, uncertain whether he should try to stop him, then a surge of concern jolted him out of his seat. Taken aback by the strength of the emotion, he called, “Dad.” Robert looked at him, his forehead knotted, his eyes hard and haunted. Julian felt something like an electric shock shiver through his frame again. “What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to put an end to this once and for all.”
“You can’t stop him. You’ll just get hurt, and I don’t want that to happen. No matter what you’ve done, you’re still my dad.”
Robert’s eyes softened a shade. An edge of tenderness came into his voice. “He can’t hurt me anymore than he’s done already.”
“What about…” Julian glanced at the house, finishing the question with his eyes.
Robert exhaled a weary, fatalistic breath. “That’s up to you. I’ve put everything I have on the table. There’s nothing left for me to say, except, well, except I’m sorry. Sorry for all of it. Goodbye, son.”