In one, she was kneeling down with her back to the camera, holding a birthday cake with five candles in it. In another, she had her hand on his shoulder but she was out of focus. Ellie kept swiping through the photos, trying to find one where her face wasn’t blurred. It was like someone had deliberately kept her out of focus.
Finally, when she could clearly see the woman’s face, she let out a loud gasp. She knew exactly who Tim’s mother was.
Chapter 66
MANDY
Mandy sat in her car outside the café where she had met Richard’s ex-girlfriend Michelle and wound down the window in the hope the cold air might cool her down.
She hadn’t suffered a panic attack before, but the sudden heart palpitations and dizziness plus the feelings of intense apprehension certainly felt like the makings of one. She tried to calm herself down by remembering her antenatal breathing exercises. And if ever she had wanted to start drinking again, it was now.
‘Richard is still very much alive,’ Michelle had said.
Richard is still very much alive.
‘Are you OK?’ Michelle had asked when she saw the colour drain from Mandy’s face. Mandy nodded but it was clear that she wasn’t.
‘What do you mean Richard is alive?’ she asked eventually. ‘He was hit by a car, wasn’t he? I went to his remembrance service.’
‘But the accident didn’t kill him,’ Michelle replied. ‘He’s in a private nursing home somewhere in Wellingborough. I mean, the poor boy’s as good as dead. He’s got severe brain damage.’
‘Then why was there a service for him?’
‘From what I can gather, when his mum and sister knew they weren’t going to get their perfect Richard back, they shipped him off to the home. They told his friends not to visit because it would be too upsetting for them to see him, and they said they’d have a memorial of hope service for him instead, where everyone could get together to remember him. Only when it came down to it, the word “hope” never came into it.’
Mandy racked her brain thinking back over the Facebook messages left after Richard’s accident and to the speeches given at his service. She’d been so anxious she couldn’t remember what had been said. For all she knew, it may not have been mentioned that Richard had died. The only people to have definitely used the word ‘death’ and blatantly let her believe he was no longer with them were Pat and Chloe.
‘I don’t understand. Why would they organise something like that for someone who wasn’t dead?’
‘It didn’t make sense to us either, but who’s going to question a grieving family? His friends weren’t allowed to go and see Rich, so I suppose it was their way of coming together and thinking of him. When his family came to me it was almost as if they wanted to forget about him and just find some poor cow to give them a baby as a replacement. It sure as hell wasn’t going to be me.’
Mandy would never forget the look on Michelle’s face when, at the end of their meeting, she rose to her feet, letting her coat fall open to reveal her pregnant stomach.
‘Shit,’ Michelle had muttered.
Mandy just wanted to get out of that café as quickly as possible.
In her car, when she had finally pulled herself together, she reached inside her handbag for her phone and Googled ‘private nursing homes’ and ‘Wellingborough’. There were five places in the search results, but it was the third one she called that confirmed what she already knew was true.
She typed the postcode in to the car’s satnav, put her key in the ignition and set off. She was about to meet the man she’d been made for.
Chapter 67
CHRISTOPHER
‘Psychopaths won’t often fall in love in the same way normal people do,’ Christopher read aloud to himself in his empty office, ‘but they can still fall in love.’
Too vain to wear reading glasses and having run out of disposable contact lenses, he inched his face closer to the computer screen to gain a better view of the text.
‘Psychopaths prefer to become involved in time-limited, sexual liaisons on the condition that they are the ones pulling the strings,’ he continued. ‘These flings don’t often lead to further contact, because psychopaths see their sexual partner’s eagerness as promiscuity. Yet they’ll justify their own similar actions quite easily. In their minds, they can cheat and engage in intercourse with multiple partners, but if their partner does the same, they place themselves as superior and take the moral high ground.’
Christopher nodded and couldn’t see the problem with that. He thought back to Holly, a girl he’d dated back in his early twenties. She had the audacity to take revenge on Christopher’s infidelity by doing the same herself and she couldn’t understand why Christopher had severed all ties with her, even after he broke her nose.
He took a swig from one of a dozen cans of Red Bull he’d purchased from a newsagent on his return from leaving the Polaroid on Number Twenty-Two’s chest. He’d later become annoyed with himself for taking his eye off the ball and visiting a shop that might have had CCTV cameras.
‘The only way to successfully engage in a relationship with a psychopath is to achieve a balance in power and control,’ he continued reading. ‘Psychopaths make intense, talented and passionate lovers, but if they begin as the dominant partner, this is a pattern that will continue. When they understand they can dominate their partner or if their partner has relinquished control, they frequently lose interest and look elsewhere for sexual contact. There are, however, some psychopaths who enjoy sharing their partners with friends. For them, a partner is an acquisition whom they can lend as they see fit.’
Tori was like that, Christopher recalled. She’d reluctantly attended a swinger’s club at his insistence and he watched as, one by one, seven men had sex with her that evening. He’d begged her to do it, informing her it would arouse him and strengthen their relationship. Tori was so young and naive, she’d believed him. Afterwards, in the car outside her house, he’d called her a filthy slag and ended it.
One by one, Christopher made his way through a mental Rolodex of women he could recollect having sexual relationships with and he’d treated almost all of them in the same demeaning manner. He’d marched through life dominating his affairs and manipulating his partners to carry out whatever new deviancy excited him. But the only person he had not degraded or abused in any way was Amy.
Outside the bedroom, he reserved the slight upper hand as he had his secret, which he was not ready to share, but, inside, they were equals. And it was his realisation of this that made him want to know more about relationships with psychopaths. A web page entitled ‘So you think you’re in love with a psychopath?’ explained it all.
He scrolled down to read on. ‘Once a psychopath is allowed to have double standards, then the relationship is likely to fail. The partner is not their equal and cannot expect to be treated like one. It is a fruitless endeavour to try to regain their interest. The only way a romantic relationship can flourish is if the partner does not allow themselves to become manipulated and preserves their self-respect.’
Christopher jiggled his feet up and down, unable to keep himself still as he recognised a lot about himself, and in turn, about Amy.
‘Because Match Your DNA studies only date back a decade, conclusions have yet to be made to determine the scale to which a psychopath can feel love for his Match. But early indicators reveal the attraction could mean a psychopath is as able to love another person just as deeply as a non-psychopath.’
Finally, when she could clearly see the woman’s face, she let out a loud gasp. She knew exactly who Tim’s mother was.
Chapter 66
MANDY
Mandy sat in her car outside the café where she had met Richard’s ex-girlfriend Michelle and wound down the window in the hope the cold air might cool her down.
She hadn’t suffered a panic attack before, but the sudden heart palpitations and dizziness plus the feelings of intense apprehension certainly felt like the makings of one. She tried to calm herself down by remembering her antenatal breathing exercises. And if ever she had wanted to start drinking again, it was now.
‘Richard is still very much alive,’ Michelle had said.
Richard is still very much alive.
‘Are you OK?’ Michelle had asked when she saw the colour drain from Mandy’s face. Mandy nodded but it was clear that she wasn’t.
‘What do you mean Richard is alive?’ she asked eventually. ‘He was hit by a car, wasn’t he? I went to his remembrance service.’
‘But the accident didn’t kill him,’ Michelle replied. ‘He’s in a private nursing home somewhere in Wellingborough. I mean, the poor boy’s as good as dead. He’s got severe brain damage.’
‘Then why was there a service for him?’
‘From what I can gather, when his mum and sister knew they weren’t going to get their perfect Richard back, they shipped him off to the home. They told his friends not to visit because it would be too upsetting for them to see him, and they said they’d have a memorial of hope service for him instead, where everyone could get together to remember him. Only when it came down to it, the word “hope” never came into it.’
Mandy racked her brain thinking back over the Facebook messages left after Richard’s accident and to the speeches given at his service. She’d been so anxious she couldn’t remember what had been said. For all she knew, it may not have been mentioned that Richard had died. The only people to have definitely used the word ‘death’ and blatantly let her believe he was no longer with them were Pat and Chloe.
‘I don’t understand. Why would they organise something like that for someone who wasn’t dead?’
‘It didn’t make sense to us either, but who’s going to question a grieving family? His friends weren’t allowed to go and see Rich, so I suppose it was their way of coming together and thinking of him. When his family came to me it was almost as if they wanted to forget about him and just find some poor cow to give them a baby as a replacement. It sure as hell wasn’t going to be me.’
Mandy would never forget the look on Michelle’s face when, at the end of their meeting, she rose to her feet, letting her coat fall open to reveal her pregnant stomach.
‘Shit,’ Michelle had muttered.
Mandy just wanted to get out of that café as quickly as possible.
In her car, when she had finally pulled herself together, she reached inside her handbag for her phone and Googled ‘private nursing homes’ and ‘Wellingborough’. There were five places in the search results, but it was the third one she called that confirmed what she already knew was true.
She typed the postcode in to the car’s satnav, put her key in the ignition and set off. She was about to meet the man she’d been made for.
Chapter 67
CHRISTOPHER
‘Psychopaths won’t often fall in love in the same way normal people do,’ Christopher read aloud to himself in his empty office, ‘but they can still fall in love.’
Too vain to wear reading glasses and having run out of disposable contact lenses, he inched his face closer to the computer screen to gain a better view of the text.
‘Psychopaths prefer to become involved in time-limited, sexual liaisons on the condition that they are the ones pulling the strings,’ he continued. ‘These flings don’t often lead to further contact, because psychopaths see their sexual partner’s eagerness as promiscuity. Yet they’ll justify their own similar actions quite easily. In their minds, they can cheat and engage in intercourse with multiple partners, but if their partner does the same, they place themselves as superior and take the moral high ground.’
Christopher nodded and couldn’t see the problem with that. He thought back to Holly, a girl he’d dated back in his early twenties. She had the audacity to take revenge on Christopher’s infidelity by doing the same herself and she couldn’t understand why Christopher had severed all ties with her, even after he broke her nose.
He took a swig from one of a dozen cans of Red Bull he’d purchased from a newsagent on his return from leaving the Polaroid on Number Twenty-Two’s chest. He’d later become annoyed with himself for taking his eye off the ball and visiting a shop that might have had CCTV cameras.
‘The only way to successfully engage in a relationship with a psychopath is to achieve a balance in power and control,’ he continued reading. ‘Psychopaths make intense, talented and passionate lovers, but if they begin as the dominant partner, this is a pattern that will continue. When they understand they can dominate their partner or if their partner has relinquished control, they frequently lose interest and look elsewhere for sexual contact. There are, however, some psychopaths who enjoy sharing their partners with friends. For them, a partner is an acquisition whom they can lend as they see fit.’
Tori was like that, Christopher recalled. She’d reluctantly attended a swinger’s club at his insistence and he watched as, one by one, seven men had sex with her that evening. He’d begged her to do it, informing her it would arouse him and strengthen their relationship. Tori was so young and naive, she’d believed him. Afterwards, in the car outside her house, he’d called her a filthy slag and ended it.
One by one, Christopher made his way through a mental Rolodex of women he could recollect having sexual relationships with and he’d treated almost all of them in the same demeaning manner. He’d marched through life dominating his affairs and manipulating his partners to carry out whatever new deviancy excited him. But the only person he had not degraded or abused in any way was Amy.
Outside the bedroom, he reserved the slight upper hand as he had his secret, which he was not ready to share, but, inside, they were equals. And it was his realisation of this that made him want to know more about relationships with psychopaths. A web page entitled ‘So you think you’re in love with a psychopath?’ explained it all.
He scrolled down to read on. ‘Once a psychopath is allowed to have double standards, then the relationship is likely to fail. The partner is not their equal and cannot expect to be treated like one. It is a fruitless endeavour to try to regain their interest. The only way a romantic relationship can flourish is if the partner does not allow themselves to become manipulated and preserves their self-respect.’
Christopher jiggled his feet up and down, unable to keep himself still as he recognised a lot about himself, and in turn, about Amy.
‘Because Match Your DNA studies only date back a decade, conclusions have yet to be made to determine the scale to which a psychopath can feel love for his Match. But early indicators reveal the attraction could mean a psychopath is as able to love another person just as deeply as a non-psychopath.’
