Page 50 of The Last One to See Him

‘Before you say anything – I rushed straight here. And I left my phone at home by accident. Didn’t have time to brush my hair or shave. I know this must be important for you to drag me here urgently. So what’s going on? Is this about us, Kate?’

Kate registers the glimmer of hope in his eyes. ‘Come in the living room. I don’t want Thomas waking up.’

Ellis follows her, standing too close.

‘This isn’t about us,’ Kate says, backing away. ‘There is nousany more. I can’t keep saying that.’

For a moment Ellis is silent, scrutinising her. He looks upset, until his expression changes into something colder. ‘Then what is this?’ he snaps. ‘What is going on with you, Kate? First, you’re interfering in my relationship and then discussing my personal business with people. Getting me to spy on people. This isn’t you – what are you playing at?’

She backs away – it’s not that she fears Ellis; he’s never lifted a finger towards her – but the legacy of Graham White lives strongly in her mind and body.

‘Hey,’ he says, stepping back and holding up his hands. ‘I didn’t mean to get in your face. I just want to understand what’s happening here.’

Kate straightens up; she won’t cower to any man. ‘There’s nothing going on. And I could ask you the same question.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

She’s about to tell Ellis that she knows he’s lying about not recognising Jamie Archer when she showed him Jamie’s photo, but right now she needs him to stay with Thomas – there’s somewhere Kate needs to be. They will have this conversation later. ‘Nothing,’ she says. ‘Sorry. I’m just…there’s some stuff I need to take care of.’

‘So that’s the real reason I’m here.’ Ellis sighs.

‘I need you to stay here with Thomas,’ Kate says. Just keep an eye on him. Watch him like a hawk. I won’t be long.’

‘Watch him like a hawk? What aren’t you telling me, Kate? And don’t tell me nothing’s going on.’

Kate switches off – the exasperation in his voice is too much for her. She scrawls a note to Thomas and slips it under his cereal bowl. ‘I won’t be long,’ she says, pulling on her coat and rushing outside before Ellis can question her further.

Reaching the car, her eyes fix on the piece of paper under the windscreen wiper. Her throat constricts when she unfolds it and reads the typed words.

R.I.P Jamie

R.I.P Graham

Who’s next?

Kate knows Rowan’s home address because she’d followed him one day, after their third or fourth session, when she knew he was the therapist she wanted, but she needed to be sure about him. To get a picture of the man he was outside of his practice, to be sure she could trust him.

Now, though, as she stands across the road from his house in Fulham, Kate feels like a stalker, and guilt clutches her chest, destabilising her. She shouldn’t be here. Rowan would report her to the police if he saw her, particularly as he’s made it clear that he can’t be her therapist any longer. He wouldn’t hesitate to tell the police what she told him about Jamie Archer. But Kate knows she didn’t harm Jamie. She knows it as sure as she knows that Thomas is her son.

She won’t let Harper Nolan reduce her to this. Kate takes a deep breath and crosses the road. Rowan’s is the only car in the driveway, so there’s every chance his wife is out. But as Kate gets closer to the house, a light comes on in one of the downstairs windows, and a woman appears, closing the shutters.

Kate turns around and walks back across the road. She can’t knock now. Instead, she picks up her phone and calls the mobile number Rowan gave her over a year ago in case she was having a panic attack and needed help getting through it. But Kate has learned to deal with those attacks herself, and has never had to call him for help. Until now.

He picks up on the fourth ring. ‘Hello?’

‘Hi, it’s Kate. Kate Mason.’

‘Where are you? Is everything okay? I’m sorry I haven’t sent you the name of a new therapist yet. I promise you I’m working on it – it’s just got to be the right fit.’

‘I know. I understand. But can we talk? Please? Everything’s got worse. There’s stuff happening and I don’t know where it will lead.’

Rowan sighs. ‘Kate, I really don’t think this is?—’

‘I promise you I’ll go to the police straight after. Just meet me. In an hour. At Labakery on Kensington High Street. I’ll explain everything.’

There’s a long pause before he answers. ‘Okay. I’ll see you there at ten.’

Kate heads straight to the coffee shop to wait. She orders a chai tea and wraps her hands around the large mug to warm them. Snow has been forecast, and grey clouds hang ominously in the sky. When her phone pings, she rushes to read the message, assuming it might be Rowan telling her he’s running late. But it’s an email from [email protected].

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