doing. But if there’s the remotest chance of getting these charges dropped and putting this whole episode behind me, then I have to do it, for me as well as for the boys. With their father gone, they can’t also have a mother in prison. Who would look after them? Friends? Extended family? No, they need their mum.
I make my way towards the lake, to the boathouse to be more precise – a strange place for a meeting, but at least it’ll be quiet there, away from prying eyes. If it is Sophie who’s called this meeting then maybe I’ll get a chance to ask her why she lied the way she did. Perhaps she had no choice. Maybe her husband coerced her into making the whole thing up. He could have done it to squash any rumours that he was abusing her. Put the blame on someone else. Make me look like the bad guy instead of him. But what reason would I have to hold an innocent woman captive? Whichever way I look at it, the whole thing still makes no sense.
I rang Fiona to ask if she would babysit the kids while I’m out, but her mobile went straight to voicemail. I thought about calling Nathan to ask him to pass on the message, but I didn’t want to impose; not after they helped out last night. And Tia’s got her hands full with her own family. In the end, I asked my friend Marian, who sometimes volunteers at the shop. She was more than happy to do it, even though I said I might be quite late back. I could probably have left the boys on their own, but I wouldn’t have been able to relax if they were home by themselves. Not after everything that’s been going on.
I check my watch and see that it’s already eleven thirty, so I pick up my pace and veer off the path, taking a shortcut, picking my way down the grassy bank. It’s dark down here; I should’ve brought a torch. The darkness intensifies as I approach the hulking black shape of the boathouse. I thought security lighting would have flashed on, but as I walk along the path everything remains quiet and dark.
I reach into my bag for my phone and take a moment to turn on its torch. That’s better. At least I can see what I’m doing now. The metal latch on the wooden door is unlocked so I push it open and hold my phone out in front of me to see inside. There’s a strange mumbling sound, and a scrape of wood. Someone’s already here, and they’re not far away.
I’m suddenly gripped with fear. Why did I agree to meet at night in such a remote location? I should turn around and go back home, but the need to clear my name propels me forward into the dark interior. ‘Hello?’ I inch forward and peer ahead as far as the phone’s torch will allow. ‘Sophie? Is that you?’ I turn around to see if I can locate a light switch on the wall, but I can’t see one. I doubt we’re supposed to be in here; that must be why the lights are off.
I turn at the sound of footsteps coming towards me from the left of the room. A lantern swings into view, and I see that the person carrying it is indeed Sophie. Not surprising, really, as this whole nightmarish situation is her fault.
‘You came,’ Sophie says, setting the lantern on the floor.
‘Of course I came. I want to know what on earth is going on. Why did you lie to the police about me? Why did you…?’ The words die on my lips. A man has joined Sophie. It’s Greg, her husband – if indeed he is her actual husband. Sonny and Ryan seemed to think he’s also Rosie’s teacher. What did they say his name was? ‘Mr Jeffries.’ I say his name aloud. ‘Greg.’
‘Hello,’ he says in a pinched tone.
I suddenly feel weirdly protective towards Sophie. She could be acting out of fear of this man. I look at her and try to convey with my eyes that I’m on her side. ‘Sophie, are you okay? Are you being forced to do all this? Has he been abusing you?’
Greg gives a contemptuous laugh. ‘I am still here, you know. I can hear you.’
I ignore him. ‘Is he really your husband? Or, I don’t know, are you part of a