Forty-nine

It was Isobel who draped Alan's arm round her shoulders and guided him into the long room, while Liz searched for money in her bag to pay for the taxi, which had come all the way from Norwich. Alan seemed scarcely to realize it had to be paid for; he seemed aware of very little except that he was home. 'I'm all right,' he kept murmuring hoarsely to Isobel, 'I can walk.' But even if he didn't need to be supported physically, he was obviously grateful for the contact, pitifully so. When they disappeared into the long room, Liz gave the taxi-driver more than she'd intended, then closed the front door on him and the fog rather than wait for change. She didn't want to leave Isobel alone with Alan. She mustn't give her a chance to talk.

Alan was sitting in his usual chair facing the television. Liz was reminded of the time he'd shown her the Nigerian cassette, which was still on the videorecorder. She remembered the bloody man stepping towards her out of the mosque. The memory made her tremble, and so did the sight of Alan. He looked pale, famished, shockingly aged. His eyes looked as if he were hiding in them, or trying to.

Both he and Isobel were gazing at her. His eyes were pleading with her, Isobel's growing more suspicious every moment as Liz didn't go to him. Liz could see as well as Isobel that he was pleading with her to hold him, talk to him, ask him nothing for the moment; but she was afraid to go to him. Suppose he read in her face what she'd done to Anna? She was sure he would if she went near.

Eventually she did, for Isobel was growing visibly readier to tell Alan all she knew, or thought she knew. Christ, couldn't she leave them alone? Liz's body felt like one long tearing scream at Isobel, but she could only squat next to Alan and stroke his hair, massage his shoulders. He felt dismayingly thin and stiff and unresponsive; he didn't feel like Alan at all. Just now, what with the shock of his return and everything else that had happened to her, she, too, seemed unable to react.

Isobel’s face was wavering, trying to be calm for his sake, but then her feelings won. 'Oh, Alan, what have they done to you?'

He stretched out his hands to her in a gesture that was meant to be reassuring, but, as he lurched forward in the chair, Liz saw how long his nails were. 'Don't upset yourself,' he said. 'It's over now.'

He sounded as if he wasn't sure himself. His voice was cracked and uneven, as though he'd almost forgotten how to talk. No wonder Isobel said, 'You need a doctor. Stay where you are, Elizabeth, I'll phone.'

'The phone isn't working,' Liz said, searching desperately for a way to turn this to her advantage.

'I don't need a doctor.' Alan leaned back, trapping her arm behind his shoulders, and closed his eyes. 'Just let me be quiet.'

Liz saw how to get rid of Isobel. Once Isobel had gone she might be able to talk to Alan, tell him how she'd changed – perhaps he could help her sort out her feelings. 'Isobel's right,' she said, for the first time in her life. 'We ought to fetch a doctor. My car's off the road, Isobel. I'm afraid you'll have to go.'

Isobel's eyes narrowed. She must know that Liz had got the better of her; how could she refuse? Yet she seemed prepared to do so, for she wasn't standing up. Liz was just wondering if hysteria would help – perhaps if she pleaded with Isobel to get a doctor, it would work on Isobel's anxiety – when suddenly her body stiffened, her lips froze. Upstairs a door was rattling.

It was the door of Alan's workroom. Anna had come round. Liz couldn't move; she was sure that Alan and Isobel knew what the sound meant. Perhaps if she didn't move, everything would go away. In a sense it seemed to, because the rattling wasn't repeated; Isobel relaxed, stopped listening; she must have decided that it had been only a draught. Liz was about to turn on the hysteria, when Alan demanded, 'Where's Anna?'

For a moment Liz couldn't speak for panic; she thought he knew. She swallowed painfully. 'At the hotel.'

'Are you sure?'

'Of course I'm sure. Why else would I say it?' Fool, she screamed at herself, he knows you're lying now; you wouldn't have said that if you were telling the truth. And see the way Isobel's looking at you now. But Isobel was watching Alan, who had put his hands over his face, peering out eventually through the crack between his hands as if he didn't want to be seen. He seemed both relieved and deeply distressed.

Isobel couldn't bear it. 'What's wrong with you, Alan?' she cried.

All at once Liz didn't want to know, dreaded hearing what had happened to him or what he might have done while he had been away. She didn't need to know just yet, only the doctor did. Alan seemed to agree with her, for whatever reason. 'I've told you, don't upset yourself,' he said, evidently unaware how his whole body was visibly writhing. 'I don't want to talk about it just now.'

'In that case, I might as well not be here at all,' Isobel said. 'I wonder why you asked me to come.'

Alan took his hands reluctantly away from his face. 'Because I didn't want Liz to be on her own.'

How much did he know? As much as Isobel suspected? Both of them were gazing at her. She could feel then-pressure in her brain, building up into a scream or a confession – she wouldn't know which until the pressure forced her mouth open. So Alan distrusted her too, did he? Everyone did. Her fury at that gave her back some control. She must get rid of them before they heard Anna; she still had time. Getting them out of the way was all that was important now. 'I don't know what's wrong with you, Alan,' she said, with a bitter delight in her ambiguity, 'but you must listen to Isobel. You need to see a doctor right now. It'll be quickest if she drives you to the village.'

Isobel nodded agreement. Of course – then she'd have a chance to be alone with him, to tell him all about Liz. Liz no longer cared what Isobel said, so long as she was rid of them both before they heard Anna. Isobel came and pulled him up by his armpits, as if he were a child again – he couldn't weigh much more than a child, by the look of him. Supporting him with one arm round his waist she gazed down at Liz, until Liz wondered what she was waiting for. Isobel pursed her lips impatiently. 'I take it you're coming too?'

That wasn't the idea at all. Liz couldn't leave Anna locked up; suppose the child escaped, or managed to attract someone from the road? She had to stay here with Anna, she had to deal with her once and for all. 'I'd better stay here,' she stammered, 'just in case.. .' But she couldn't think of another word.

'If I'm to drive, you'll have to sit with him,' Isobel said, almost furious. 'Both of us will be needed.'

Liz stared up at her, her nails clawing her palms inside her fists. She was thinking of wilder and wilder excuses not to go with Isobel, but none of them was any use -Isobel would know that she was lying. She might even suspect the real reason. Liz could only stand up, cursing and screaming silently, enacting on the small bright screen of her mind all the things she wanted to do to Isobel. But just as she stepped forward to support Alan, the phone began to ring.

It took her a moment to realize how it could, and who it was. A sudden delight, terrible and glittering, grew in her mind. Isobel was supporting Alan – only she could answer the phone. 'They must have fixed it,' she said, and went quickly to the phone before they could realize that it wasn't ringing as it should. 'Yes?' she said quietly, enjoying herself so much that she had to restrain herself from showing her teeth.

There was a silence whose nervousness she could almost feel, then a small timid secretive voice said, 'It's Anna.'

Liz made her own voice even gentler, so that Anna wouldn't suspect it was her. 'Yes?'

The words came out in a rush – Liz thought of diarrhoea, they were just as disgusting. 'Oh, please come and get me. Mummy's locked me in daddy's room. She's going to hurt me, she wants to hurt me, she isn't like mummy. Please don't go away, please come and let me out. Please don't let mummy get me…'

Liz was smiling sweetly. She turned to the others so that they could see. 'I'll be coming for you, don't you worry,' she said low and gently, and replaced the receiver. 'That was Anna at the hotel,' she said, knowing exactly what to say now. 'I have to go and collect her. You go on ahead to the doctor's and we'll join you there. I have to pack some things for her before I go.'

Isobel looked defeated; she couldn't argue now. But Alan seemed doubtful, wondering if he should speak. If he suspected Liz, if he said anything that suggested he did, she'd get to Anna before they did, by God she would. Then he shook his head and turned away. She watched Isobel helping him along the path into the fog. By the time they reached the car and she closed the front door gently, she was grinning so much her face ached.

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