Say You're Sorry(43)

He pauses. Tells me to hold on. I’m listening to whining synthesizers and thumping bass beats. Is it a dance track or a techno song? I’ve never known the difference.

Charlie picks up the phone.

“Hello.”

“Are you OK?”

“I’m fine.”

I swallow the lump in my throat. “Where are you?”

“London.”

“Where in London?”

“Camden.”

She starts to explain, growing tearful.

“I meant to be back by now. I thought I could catch a train and you’d never know. Jacob wanted to go to this party and now he’s wasted… and my phone is dead… and it’s too late to get a train.”

I can picture her standing slightly pigeon-toed, pushing her fringe from her eyes. My mouth is clogged up and I can barely speak.

“It’s OK, Charlie.”

“You’re angry.”

“No.”

“Please don’t be angry.”

“We’ll talk about it later.”

“That means you’re really angry.”

“How much money do you have?”

“Eleven quid.”

“What’s the address of the party?”

“Are you going to call the police?”

“Someone else.”

Vincent Ruiz answers on the second ring. Insomnia replaced his third wife or maybe he just retired from sleeping when he quit the Met and handed back his badge.

Ruiz is a friend of mine, although we started off disliking each other when we first met eight years ago. That’s one of the intuitive things about life: meeting people that we seem destined to know. Ruiz is like that. Our initial mistrust grew into respect then admiration then genuine affection. Sacrifice comes last. Ruiz would give up a lot for me, perhaps even his own life, but he’d take a dozen people down with him because he doesn’t surrender without a fight.

“This better be important,” he barks down the phone.

“It’s Joe. I need your help. Charlie’s in trouble.”

I can hear him sitting up, swinging his legs out of bed. Cursing. Fully alert now.

“What’s wrong?”

“I stubbed my toe.”

He’s looking for a pen. I give him the address.

“What do you want me to do?”

“Pick her up. Put her to bed. I appreciate this. I’ll take an early train.”

“I’m on it.”

That’s what I like about Ruiz. He doesn’t need to rationalize or debate the pros and cons of a given situation. He goes with his gut and it rarely lets him down. Other people need to feel good about themselves, usually at the expense of others, or they keep a ledger of favors owed. Not Ruiz. When Julianne and I separated, he didn’t take sides or pass judgment. He stayed friends with both of us.

Before he hangs up: “Hey, Professor, did you hear they just brought out a new ‘Divorce Barbie’? She comes with all of Ken’s stuff.”

“Fetch my daughter.”

“Done.”

Julianne picks up on the half-ring.

“Charlie’s fine. Ruiz has gone to pick her up.”

“Where was she?”

“With Jacob.”

“Where?”

“He took her to a party and then got wasted instead of bringing her home. She’s pretty upset.”

“She should be.”

“I’m sorry—I should have been watching her.”

Julianne doesn’t respond. I know she’s angry. I had one job to do—look after Charlie—and I proved myself incapable. Useless. Feckless. Pointless. Aimless.

I wish she’d shout at me. Instead, she says goodnight.

I lie awake until Ruiz calls to say that Charlie is asleep in his guest room. It’s after three. I won’t sleep now. So I pack Charlie’s things and check out the train timetables. I’ll take the first available service to London and then drive Charlie home. We’ll work out a story in the car, polishing the script until we have something that Julianne accepts.

I miss this. I know that sounds bizarre, given what’s happened tonight, but I miss the daily dramas of being married, the ins and outs of everyday domestic life. We’ve been separated for three years, but whenever something goes wrong Julianne still calls me. In the event of an emergency, I’m still her go-to man, the number one person in her life.

There’s a downside, of course. She wants me to handle the bad stuff, not the good stuff.





I don’t hear him coming.

I don’t hear him move the furniture or open the trapdoor. It’s strange because normally I’m such a light sleeper.

When I do wake, I think it must be the police. Tash has brought help. They’ve found me. But then I hear his voice and my heart freezes and the cold reaches all the way to the ends of my fingers.