‘Don’t answer straight away,’ Pat had advised her on the hillside. ‘Take your time to think about it and what it would mean to you to have his baby. Talk it over with your family, but no matter what they say, remember that you’ll always have Chloe and me on your side. We are your family too now.’
Having a child with a man who truly loved her was all that Mandy had ever wanted and, until recently, it hadn’t seemed possible. Even though they’d never had the opportunity to meet, she knew how she felt about him based only on being around the remnants of his life. Was that enough of a foundation to have his child? Of course it wasn’t. The rational side of Mandy’s brain knew what she should do. How would she ever explain to her mum and sisters she was pregnant with the child of a dead man she’d never met? Is this really how she wanted to become a mother? What would her child think when it became old enough to understand? Could she do it alone?
Could she do it? She was certainly tempted.
‘Mandy, can I have a word?’ The voice startled her. She turned to see her line manager, Charlie, a young man that she suspected was barely out of his teens but had the ability to patronise as well as any man double his age. She followed him into a large Perspex cube where a desk with three chairs sat next to a whiteboard. He beckoned her to take a seat and shuffled some papers he was holding.
‘I’ve been looking at your team’s figures, Mandy, and, if I’m honest, they’ve been slipping.’ He stroked his bum-fluff goatee to emphasise his disappointment. ‘Over the last two months, we’ve seen a consistent drop in leads from you guys and, as a result, sales have stalled. Is there anything you’d like to tell me?’
Like what? she asked herself. Like the love of my life is dead and I’m considering having his baby?
‘No,’ she replied instead. ‘I have a few personal issues I’m dealing with at the moment. I’m sorry if it’s affected my work.’
‘It has, it has,’ Charlie said. ‘The thing is, Mandy, I’ve been looking at your file, and I see that you could have a potentially lengthy career here. If you keep your head down and work harder, get these figures back on track, there’s no reason why this should hold you back. Why, you could even be promoted by this time next year. I mean, you’re quite a bit older than the other girls here and your documents say you have no husband or family to speak of. You might as well have something to aim for, mightn’t you?’
Charlie looked at her with an encouraging expression. Clearly he expected her to feel motivated by his words and didn’t realise how inappropriate his comments were. Mandy stared back at him in disbelief. What Charlie didn’t know was that he’d inadvertently just made up Mandy’s mind for her, as well as providing an escape route.
‘Thank you, you patronising little prick,’ Mandy said as she rose to her feet. ‘You have definitely given me something to aim for. And it’s not going to come cheap.’
‘What I mean, what I was trying to say was …’ Charlie began to backtrack but Mandy wasn’t prepared to listen. Instead, she stormed out of the room, and headed down the corridor in the direction of the HR department.
Within two hours she had negotiated a generous voluntary redundancy package, including a bonus on the provision she wouldn’t take Charlie’s sexism or intrusion into her private life to an industrial tribunal. Then, after walking down five flights of stairs, out of the building’s revolving doors and towards her car, she pulled her mobile from her pocket.
‘Hi Pat, it’s Mandy,’ she began, trying to contain her excitement. ‘Yes, I want to do it. I want to have Richard’s baby.’
Chapter 47
CHRISTOPHER
‘Are you ready?’ Amy shouted up the stairs to Christopher.
‘Yes, just give me a moment,’ he replied from his office, where he was looking at the chart on his computer screen to double check where Number Thirteen was. He was happy to find that she’d stuck to her schedule and was exactly where she was supposed to be. He liked it when they were creatures of habit, as it made his job that much easier.
Faceless contacts and downloadable programmes and software buried deep on the dark net provided him with the means to learn everything he needed to know about the women he targeted and more, and it all began with a mobile phone number. That would lead to a name, age, address, occupation, medical history and employment records. He could determine almost anything from their blood types to what they’d last purchased on eBay. Their lives were no longer their own to live and Christopher would be the one to determine how much time they had left.
Early on, he was aware secrecy and anonymity would be the key to his success. On the off-chance Amy might use his computer without asking, she’d only have access to a guest profile he had set up in her name. His own profile had a password cipher programme he’d been assured would take months to crack by even some of the most experienced individuals.
A virtual private network made sure that Christopher’s IP number, his computer’s unique identifier, was buried at all times. He ran all his online data via an encrypted virtual tunnel that stopped all websites from tracking his online activity. Each email he sent and received went through a programme that encrypted and decrypted, and he used unlimited aliases and disposable addresses to register with UFlirt, the only app installed on each of his dozens of phones.
It was the Tor network that allowed him to access the deep web, where millions of websites and pages were created anonymously and individuals communicated privately. Even for Christopher, it was an eye opener as anything from drugs to firearms and paedophile pornography were available to purchase for the right price. It was there where he’d bought a job lot of smart phones for a fraction of British prices using darkcoins, a more discreet version of bitcoins. Then he had the phones couriered from somewhere in Eastern Europe to a PO Box he’d set up in London.
‘Chris!’ Amy shouted again. ‘Come on, we’re going to be late!’ He narrowed his eyes; he loathed the abbreviation of his name, but she was using it more and more.
By the time the couple found a parking space two streets away from the restaurant in Bow, they were ten minutes late. And while not being on time for an allotted appointment often made Christopher irritable, it didn’t matter so much if Amy was with him.
‘This menu looks lovely,’ she said, flicking through the pages of the leather-bound book. She smiled at Christopher and he felt his stomach perform somersaults. He smiled back at her and meant it.
‘It earned superb reviews in the Guardian’s Weekend magazine,’ Christopher replied. ‘That’s why I suggested it.’
He began to feel anxious and his muscles were tense, but he disguised it from Amy. Tonight was going to be the most important night of their relationship and he’d managed to keep his preparations under the radar. He had booked the right table in exactly the right spot and now all he had to do was to wait for that special moment.
As they glanced over the list of traditional British foods with a modern twist, their waitress appeared with bottled water and glasses.
‘What would you recommend?’ Christopher asked politely. His mouth was dry so he took a large gulp of his water. He wasn’t listening when she read from the specials board, although he picked up on something about a toad in the hole with chilli spiced sausages and ham hock soup. He was more interested in focusing on the silver hoop in her pierced septum and how much pain she’d be in if he ripped it out.