The Good Samaritan Read online

  PRAISE FOR JOHN MARRS

  ‘Gripping from the start and full of surprises, this kept us up long after lights out’

  —Isabelle Broom, Heat

  ‘A compelling dark read that gets you thinking’

  —The Sun

  ‘Really clever concept and some great characters and twists. It’s a real joy to read something totally original, smart and thought-provoking’

  —Peter James

  ‘Wonderful conceit, ridiculously entertaining . . . an absolute pleasure, the malevolence and impishness of a young Roald Dahl’

  —T. A. Cotterell, author of What Alice Knew

  ‘Fantastic . . . I can’t remember the last time I was simultaneously this entertained and this disturbed’

  —Hollie Overton, Sunday Times bestselling author of Baby Doll

  ‘This will have you gripped’

  —Woman’s Own

  ‘A brilliantly inventive thriller’

  —Good Housekeeping

  ‘Engaging concept, craftily executed’

  —Adrian J. Walker, author of The End of the World Running Club

  ‘A compelling read . . . intriguing ideas’

  —SFX

  ‘Gorgeously written, and pulsing with heart’

  —Louise Beech, author of The Mountain in My Shoe

  ‘Crammed with twists and turns that’ll keep you guessing right until the very end’

  —OK! Magazine

  ALSO BY JOHN MARRS

  The One

  When You Disappeared

  Welcome To Wherever You Are

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Text copyright © 2017, 2018 by John Marrs

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

  Published by Thomas & Mercer, Seattle

  This edition contains editorial revisions.

  www.apub.com

  Amazon, the Amazon logo, and Thomas & Mercer are trademarks of Amazon.com, Inc., or its affiliates.

  ISBN-13: 9781503903364

  ISBN-10: 1503903362

  Cover design by Mark Swan

  CONTENTS

  START READING

  PROLOGUE

  PART ONE LAURA

  CHAPTER ONE FOUR MONTHS AFTER DAVID

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR FOUR MONTHS, TWO WEEKS AFTER DAVID

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT FOUR MONTHS, THREE WEEKS AFTER DAVID

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN FIVE MONTHS AFTER DAVID

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE FIVE MONTHS, ONE WEEK AFTER DAVID

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN FIVE MONTHS, TWO WEEKS AFTER DAVID

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN SIX MONTHS AFTER DAVID

  CHAPTER NINETEEN SEVEN MONTHS AFTER DAVID

  CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN MONTHS, ONE WEEK AFTER DAVID

  RYAN

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO ONE DAY AFTER CHARLOTTE

  CHAPTER THREE THREE DAYS AFTER CHARLOTTE

  CHAPTER FOUR SIX DAYS AFTER CHARLOTTE

  CHAPTER FIVE EIGHT DAYS AFTER CHARLOTTE

  CHAPTER SIX TWELVE DAYS AFTER CHARLOTTE

  CHAPTER SEVEN THREE WEEKS AFTER CHARLOTTE

  CHAPTER EIGHT TWO MONTHS AFTER CHARLOTTE

  CHAPTER NINE FOUR MONTHS AFTER CHARLOTTE

  CHAPTER TEN FOUR MONTHS, ONE WEEK AFTER CHARLOTTE

  CHAPTER ELEVEN FOUR MONTHS, TWO WEEKS AFTER CHARLOTTE

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN FOUR MONTHS, THREE WEEKS AFTER CHARLOTTE

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN FIVE MONTHS, TWO WEEKS AFTER CHARLOTTE

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN SIX MONTHS AFTER CHARLOTTE

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN SEVEN MONTHS, ONE WEEK AFTER CHARLOTTE

  PART TWO

  CHAPTER ONE LAURA

  CHAPTER TWO RYAN

  CHAPTER THREE LAURA

  CHAPTER FOUR RYAN

  CHAPTER FIVE LAURA

  CHAPTER SIX RYAN

  CHAPTER SEVEN LAURA

  CHAPTER EIGHT RYAN

  CHAPTER NINE LAURA

  CHAPTER TEN RYAN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN LAURA

  CHAPTER TWELVE RYAN

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN LAURA

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN RYAN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN LAURA

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN RYAN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN LAURA

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN RYAN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN LAURA

  CHAPTER TWENTY RYAN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE LAURA

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO RYAN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE LAURA

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR RYAN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE LAURA

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX RYAN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN LAURA

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT RYAN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE LAURA

  CHAPTER THIRTY RYAN

  PART THREE

  CHAPTER ONE LAURA – TWO MONTHS AFTER RYAN

  CHAPTER TWO LAURA – THREE MONTHS AFTER RYAN

  CHAPTER THREE JOHNNY

  CHAPTER FOUR LAURA

  CHAPTER FIVE LAURA – TWO MONTHS AFTER JOHNNY

  EPILOGUE EFFIE

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  ‘Service to others is the rent you pay for your room here on earth.’

  —Muhammad Ali

  ‘While seeking revenge, dig two graves – one for yourself.’

  —Douglas Horton

  PROLOGUE

  ‘Where are you?’ My voice was calm and my tone measured as I spoke softly into the receiver.

  ‘My taxi has just pulled up in the car park and I’m trying to give away my loose change.’

  ‘Why?’ I asked.

  ‘Because I don’t have any need for it.’

  ‘I understand.’ I rolled my eyes. It felt like a waste of time and it concerned me that it might be a delaying tactic. But I couldn’t pressure him. ‘You do what you feel is for the best, and remember,’ I continued, ‘I’m with you every step of the way.’

  I heard him mumble something to the driver, then he exited the taxi, closing the door behind him. I assumed it was raining lightly, because every few seconds I heard the rubber wiper blades squeak as they arched across the windscreen before the cab pulled away.

  ‘How are we doing?’ I asked, purposefully using ‘we’ instead of ‘I’ to emphasise that we were in this together, if not side by side then certainly in spirit. It was not my choice of location and I wondered if, once he saw its magnitude, it might give him second thoughts. If that were the case, I’d have to accept his decision. It had taken time for me to get in the right headspace, but now that I was, I wanted him to see it through to the end. And I’d make sure to remind him why he was there and how far we had come.

  He read my mind. ‘Don’t worry,’ he said, ‘I’ve not had a change of heart.’

  I let out a sigh of relief.

  ‘Really,’ he continued, ‘I’m in a good place and I’m ready for this. Now that I’m here, now that I can see what’s before me, I know one hundred and ten per cent that it’s the right thing to do.’


  I believed him. I don’t think he’d ever lied to me, because he’d never had a reason to. He’d told me many times that he was more honest with me than with anyone he had ever known, and I was proud to hear it.

  ‘Can you see her yet?’ I asked. ‘She’s driving a red Vauxhall Astra. Registration number V987—’

  ‘. . . THG. Yes, she’s just flashed her lights at me. It feels like we’re in a spy film and you’ve arranged for me to pass her secret documents.’ He gave a nervous laugh and I pretended to laugh back.

  ‘OK, let me give her a call,’ I said. ‘Stay where you are for now. We don’t want to scare her.’

  My number was automatically withheld when I dialled her. She answered after seven rings, too many for my liking.

  ‘Hi there,’ I began softly. ‘How are we doing?’

  ‘I’m not sure,’ she replied. Her voice lacked the confidence of his. I’d accompanied enough people in her situation to recognise a heightened state of anxiety. I’d have to tread carefully.

  ‘It’s good to hear you,’ I said soothingly. ‘Did your journey go well? Did you find the place okay?’

  ‘I got here an hour ago, so I had a cup of tea in a café up the road.’

  This was another red flag. She’d had time on her own to think.

  ‘Is there anything you want to talk about before we start?’ I asked.

  She hesitated. ‘I’m really sorry, but now I’m here I’m starting to think I might not be doing the right thing anymore,’ she replied.

  I gritted my teeth. I was not going to let it end like this. I needed to reaffirm her sense of purpose.

  ‘It’s about the baby, isn’t it?’ I asked gently.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘You’re worried that you’re making a selfish decision.’

  ‘Yes,’ she said again, this time in a barely audible voice.

  I sank back into my chair. ‘That’s perfectly understandable, but you need to realise this isn’t you talking, it’s your hormones. They’re giving you a false sense of what might be possible; making you think that everything could be all right in the end if you just give it time. Listen to someone who has learned from experience. When that child is born, things are only going to get so much worse for you. They’ll up your medication so that your life is even more of a blur than it is now. You won’t be fit for purpose as a mother, and the chemicals you’ve put into your body already are going to have a knock-on effect on your baby. It will grow up exactly like you, with exactly the same pain and problems you have; it’ll be history repeating itself. Do you really want to be responsible for all that? Unlike you, I can see things clearly and I know that is exactly what is going to happen. Your baby doesn’t stand a chance in this world. And deep down you know that too, don’t you?’

  ‘You’re right,’ she spluttered, no longer trying to fight back her sobs.

  I’d been bad cop, now I needed to be good cop again.

  ‘You know, I’ve been thinking about you all night and day,’ I continued. ‘I know how far you’ve come since you found me all those weeks ago. I’m so proud of you for your courage and strength. You know that, don’t you?’

  ‘Yes,’ she replied. She didn’t sound as convinced as I’d hoped. It was time to step it up a gear.

  ‘I’ve been thinking about your family, too. They’re very lucky to have someone in their lives like you, someone who is so selfless and so courageous. These are rare traits and I know that at first, it’s going to be difficult for everyone to understand, but in time they’re going to realise you loved them so much that you put their needs above your own. You’ve told me on so many occasions that you’re never going to be the wife your husband needs. But that’s not your fault, it’s his for putting you on a pedestal. He has done this to you. Just keep reminding yourself of why you came looking for me in the first place. Together, we explored every avenue before you decided this was the only route that made sense. You are moving on and allowing everyone else you love to do the same. And I admire that so much.’

  I’d spent so long repeating the same message, week after week, conversation after conversation, slowly reinforcing the belief that there was only one way forward. He, however, had required less work. There was no middle ground with him. Things were either black or white and never grey. He told me once I was like a rope that had pulled him from the quicksand and then set him on the right path.

  ‘You’re right,’ she sniffed. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Okay then. Well, blow your nose, take a deep breath and we’ll do this together. Start by opening the door and walking towards him.’ I tried to imagine I was there with them. ‘Now, can you carefully describe what you’re seeing in front of you?’

  ‘I think that’s him waiting for me,’ she said. ‘He’s smiling. And behind him the sun is trying to make its way through the clouds. It’s cold, but not freezing.’

  I heard the crunch of the gravel under her feet, the pitter-patter of January rain bouncing off the shoulders of her overcoat, and the squawking seagulls above. I could almost smell the salty sea air around them. I switched telephone line to his.

  ‘Hi,’ I began. ‘She’s coming towards you now, but she’s a little more anxious than you are. You will look after her, won’t you?’

  ‘Of course,’ he replied, more assured than I’d ever heard him.

  As they came face-to-face for the first time, I imagined them smiling at one another. I opened up both phone lines and heard a muffled, scratching sound of fabric against fabric, as if they were embracing. I’d told her to wear a coat big enough to hide her baby bump. The last thing I needed was for it to spook him now that we were so close.

  I felt my skin burning under my shirt and adrenaline coursing through the sixty thousand miles of veins in my body, edging me towards a kind of euphoria.

  Bide your time. Keep a firm grip on yourself, because too much can still go wrong.

  I pictured them standing there, two perfect strangers who hadn’t needed to speak to communicate. They were united in a common purpose and I had brought them together. Their lives would be forever connected because of me. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

  ‘Can you both hear me?’ I asked them.

  ‘Yes,’ they replied in unison.

  ‘If you’re still comfortable with it, I’d like to stay with you for as long as possible. So, when you’re ready, each take a deep breath, then take hold of each other’s hand and start to walk. No matter how tough it gets or how heavy your legs might feel, hold on to each other for support. Don’t turn around and don’t stop. We can do this together.’

  ‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘Thank you for understanding me. You’ve been incredible.’

  ‘It’s been my pleasure,’ I replied. In the past when I’d reached this point, I’d been so much stronger. But he’d been too big a part of my life for this not to hurt. I balled my fists as our journey came to an end. Now it was their turn to continue the story.

  I closed my eyes tightly. I inhaled and exhaled in time with their breaths as they made their way further and further from the car park. The gravel faded into grass and the rain fell more heavily. She began to weep, but I was convinced they were happy tears. I was sure he was clasping her hand in his just that little bit tighter, offering her the strength I so admired in him.

  And then—

  Nothing.

  Nothing but the sound of their last breaths and the coastal wind howling through their phones as they fell five hundred and thirty feet into the water below. And as their bodies sank and their souls soared, I bit my bottom lip hard until I tasted blood. It was over.

  I gave myself a few moments before reluctantly replacing the receiver in the cradle. I took a tissue from my desk drawer, blew my nose, uncurled my toes and thought about my anchor until calmness once again took control of my body.

  I lifted my head briefly and glanced around the room to reassure myself that no one beyond the confines of my booth had heard me.

  ‘Are you all right
?’ Mary’s honeyed voice came from the side, making me jump. She shuffled from the kitchen to my desk, sensing something was wrong. The years had not been kind to her face.

  ‘I’m fine,’ I replied.

  ‘Was it one of those calls?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘They didn’t do it while you were talking to them, did they?’

  I nodded and she patted my arm with her hand. My skin prickled, as it did when anyone touched me uninvited. Such gestures had never comforted me.

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ Mary continued. ‘You hope that when they call us, all it’ll take is a friendly voice and someone to listen and it’ll put them off ending their lives for that little bit longer, don’t you?’

  ‘Yes,’ I lied.

  ‘And I know we’re not supposed to talk them out of it or even offer an opinion, but it’s hard when you just want people to see that life is worth living.’

  ‘It certainly is,’ I nodded. ‘I wish everyone could see the beauty of the world through our eyes.’

  It was a busy afternoon and there weren’t enough volunteers to man the helplines, so Mary made her way back to her corner of the office. When the red light on my phone began flashing to indicate another call, I cleared my throat and answered it, as required, within five rings.

  ‘Good afternoon,’ I began, ‘you’ve reached the End of the Line, this is Laura speaking. May I ask your name?’

  PART ONE

  LAURA

  CHAPTER ONE

  FOUR MONTHS AFTER DAVID

  I heard their muffled chatter as I made my way up the staircase and towards the door.

  Inside End of the Line’s call room, I counted five heads, all sitting in their individual booths. Some propped themselves up on their elbows as they sat listening to callers through their headsets; others casually leaned back in their chairs with receivers held to their ears. One doodled triangles in a newspaper crossword grid.

  I was early for my shift and waved cheerfully at Kevin and Zoe, who were listening to their respective callers. I pointed to the cake tin under my arm then towards the kitchen. Mary, the eldest of the volunteers at the charity, sat in a corner booth at the front, her knitting needles moving almost silently at full throttle as she spoke into a headset. Today’s colour of wool was as grey as the hair on her head.