Helen managed a rueful smile, which Mark reciprocated.
‘But I didn’t care. I wished I’d beaten him harder.’
‘So James changed his name?’
‘Wouldn’t you? He didn’t want that kind of notoriety following him the rest of his life. He went to therapy for a bit, tried to deal with it, but really he wanted to pretend it hadn’t happened. I tried to stay in touch with him but a year or two after the murders he dropped me. Didn’t want to be reminded of it. I was sad, but I understood and I wanted him to do well. And he did do well.’
It was true. James had got himself educated, got a good job and eventually found a girl – benign, harmless – who wanted to marry him. From such a miserable, head-fucking start, he’d managed to make a good life for himself. Until someone had forced his colleague to stab him through the eye. Sure it was self-defence, but that was what made it worse. James/Ben loathed violence – what must he have been going through to try to kill Peter?
It was too twisted, too unlucky for words. And yet that was what they were dealing with.
‘Do you think they’re connected? Joel Hawker’s murders and Be-… James’s death?’ Mark interjected, breaking into Helen’s thoughts.
‘Maybe. But Amy and Sam weren’t part of that. Where do they fit in?’
Silence crept over them. Perhaps there were connections to be made but they were hard to see right now.
So what were they left with? A pair of sadistic, motiveless murders that seemed utterly unrelated and a perpetrator who was either a scruffy, blonde heating engineer or a busty, mischievous housewife with long, raven tresses. What they were left with was a mess and they both knew it.
As Mark scanned the pub, he felt the craving growing. All around him men and women were laughing, joking and drinking. Wine, beer, spirits, cocktails, chasers – poured down their necks with abandon.
‘You’re doing really well, Mark.’
Helen’s words snapped him out of it. He eyed her suspiciously. The last thing he wanted was pity.
‘I know it’s hard, but this is the beginning of the end. We’re going to get you better. We’re going to do it together. Ok?’
Mark nodded, grateful.
‘You can tell me to eff off and go to Alcoholics Anonymous instead and I’ll understand. But I don’t think they know you. They don’t know what we go through day after day. What it does to us. Which is why I’m going to help you. Whenever you need company, whenever you need help, I will be there for you. There will be times – loads of times – when you really really want to drink. And that’s ok – it’s going to happen whether you like it or not. But here’s the deal. You only ever drink in my presence. And when I tell you stop, you stop. Right?’