and lean in close, that odd way he has of speaking to someone’s ear rather than their face. He keeps a tight hold of Pete’s hand and I can tell he’s crushing it, squeezing it with all his force. But I’m pretty sure it’s what he’s saying, not the pressure of his hand, that’s causing Pete’s face to turn white.
“What did he say?” I ask when Pete returns. He doesn’t meet my gaze.
“He said congratulations.” Pete gives a quick, tight smile. “He said the best man and woman won.”
101
Case no. 12675/PU78B65, Exhibit 53: Email from Harvey Taylor to Peter Riley, retrieved from Peter Riley’s iPhone.
Dear Pete,
Thank you for your email, and the link to the sad news about Judge Wakefield. As it happens, my bike is off the road for repairs, but I will in any case take note of your advice.
Many congratulations on winning your case. If I can be of any help in the future, please don’t hesitate to get in touch.
AS THE DAYS AND weeks went by with no word from Miles, we slowly allowed ourselves to relax. Which isn’t to say we weren’t vigilant. I didn’t use my bike, for one thing. Cycling in London was dangerous enough already, without worrying that someone might drive up behind me and nudge my back wheel with their bumper.
Theo was still on the waiting list for the other nursery, but we managed to get him a temporary place with a childminder a few streets away. It wasn’t a long-term solution—the childminder, Rosie, couldn’t give him any one-to-one help for his CU—but at least it was away from the Lamberts.
But somehow it all felt like the lull before the storm. What Miles had said to me when we’d collected Theo after the hearing—the things he’d hissed into my ear about Maddie—had been childish and pathetic, but it also suggested he wasn’t going to accept the court’s judgment and move on. Not that I believed a word of what he’d said, of course. I remembered how, the very first time he’d come to our house, he’d let me think Theo was the result of an affair between him and Maddie. That had been entirely deliberate, I later realized—his first attempt at playing with me, seeing how I’d react. It had been Don Maguire who’d coughed and explained what had really happened. Miles just couldn’t resist seeing what made people squirm.
Once, I thought I saw him in his car as I was taking Theo to Rosie’s. Since her house was quite close, Theo was on his scooter—although I always made sure he stopped and waited for me before crossing any roads. On this occasion he’d gotten a little bit ahead, but he was safely on the pavement and there were no cars around, so I wasn’t too worried. An old lady was pushing a shopping basket on wheels, very slowly. Without stopping, Theo veered around her, wobbling off the pavement and onto the road. Just at that moment, a black BMW four-wheel-drive pulled out from a parking space and sped up the street toward us. “Theo!” I screamed. “Get back on the pavement!” Theo stopped dead, and instead of doing as I told him, looked over his shoulder, perplexed by the terror in my voice. He was wearing his helmet, but against the bulk of the BMW it would be useless. Then the BMW accelerated past us, and as the driver adjusted her mirror I saw it was a dark-haired woman wearing sunglasses, just another entitled north London mother driving her SUV too fast after dropping off her kids, in a hurry to get to the gym.
My heart pounding, I caught up with Theo. “Don’t ever go off the pavement again,” I snapped. “Or I’m confiscating your scooter.”
Theo only sagged his shoulders comically, as if to say I was overreacting. Which, from his perspective, of course I was.
I’d read how some parents react to traumatic events by catastrophizing—becoming hyper-fearful and protective, seeing imaginary disasters around every corner. Over time, their children soak up those fears, becoming insecure and timid. I couldn’t do that to Theo, whose sunny confidence was one of his most endearing characteristics. I mustn’t.
I resolved that, whatever terrors still lurked in my own mind, I wasn’t going to let Theo be aware of them. We were going to live a normal life.
103
PETE
SO WHEN I LOST him in Sainsbury’s, at first I tried not to overreact.