The Broken (Echoes from the Past Book 8)

by Shapiro, Irina

  “I’m very sorry, Helen. Your mother and I were friends once.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Ross,” Helen replied woodenly. Now wasn’t the time to wonder why so many of her mother’s friendships had fallen by the wayside. Now was the time to accept condolences and keep her heart from succumbing to grief. She’d deal with her feelings later, when she was ready.

  Helen’s third call was to David’s lodging house. Mrs. Bush informed her that David had left for work a few minutes ago. “I’ll be sure to give him the message when he returns, Miss Brent,” she promised. “I’m sorry for your loss,” she added.

  “Thank you,” Helen replied, and ended the call. She returned to the house and went into the kitchen, where she made herself tea and toast. She wasn’t sure what to do next, so she sat at the kitchen table and nursed her cooling tea until Dr. Ross came by.

  He looked tired and a little disheveled, but his warm brown eyes were filled with sympathy and understanding. “I’m sorry I couldn’t come sooner, Helen. I was called out to a difficult birth last night.” He sighed heavily and looked away.

  “One or both?” Helen asked.

  “Just the baby. The cord was wrapped around its neck, but the head was already in the birth canal. I couldn’t do anything to loosen it without cutting the mother open then and there. I would have too, except that by the time she’d consented, the child was already gone. The parents are devastated. It was to be their first.”

  “I’m sorry,” Helen said automatically, although, at the moment, she didn’t feel much of anything.

  “Tell me what happened,” Dr. Ross invited. “I could do with a cup of tea,” he added, seeing Helen’s empty cup on the table.

  “Yes, of course. You must be exhausted.”

  “I am, rather. And hungry,” he confessed. “Didn’t have any dinner or breakfast this morning.”

  Helen made fresh tea and offered Dr. Ross the remains of the plum duff, which he gratefully accepted. After all, there was no rush. There was nothing Dr. Ross could do for Edith but having a companionable cup of tea with him brought Helen comfort.

  “Excellent,” Dr. Ross said as he finished the duff and took a last gulp of tea. He gave Helen an expectant look.

  “Last night a friend of mine came to dinner. Mum was snippy and abrupt with him,” Helen confessed. For some reason, she found it difficult to tell Dr. Ross that David was, in fact, her fiancé. Now wasn’t the time to share her happy news. “Then she went to bed. When I didn’t hear her moving about this morning, I went into her room. She was already gone. I think she might have passed early last night.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “I didn’t hear any sounds from her room after I’d gone to bed, and I was awake for some time. All was silent.” Edith must have passed while she was in the parlor with David, enjoying a few minutes of quiet intimacy.

  “I see.” Dr. Ross pushed away his plate and stood, ready to examine the deceased. Helen opted to wait downstairs.

  He returned a few minutes later and washed his hands at the sink before speaking. “Myocardial infarction,” he announced. “But I think you already knew that. I’d say she died at least ten hours ago, based on the level of rigor. It would have been quick, Helen.”

  “How can you tell?” Helen asked, although she thought she already knew.

  “She had no time to call for help, and you would have heard her distress, being next door. It probably took her no more than a few minutes to die, the first few of which she was most likely still asleep. By the time she woke and realized something was wrong, it was too late. If you stop by the surgery later today, I’ll have the death certificate for you.”

  “Thank you, Doctor. I suppose I’d better start arranging the funeral.”

  “Gibson and Sons is reasonably priced and very efficient.”

  “Yes, they buried my father. I’ll go over there after I speak to the vicar.”

  Dr. Ross shook his head. “I think you’d best head over to Gibson’s first if you want them to collect the body today. I believe they have two funerals scheduled for this afternoon, both my patients, unfortunately. I don’t expect you’d like to spend the night with your mother’s corpse still in the house.”

  “No, I wouldn’t,” Helen agreed.

  “Go on, then,” Dr. Ross said as he walked to the door. “If there’s anything you need, Sandra and I are happy to help. I’ve been treating your family since your parents first moved here after the Great War. Your father was a good friend, and your mother…well, I’m sorry she’s gone.”

  Helen grabbed her coat and handbag and followed the doctor out the door. The funeral parlor was several streets away and in the opposite direction from the church. It was bound to be open for business, since it was past nine. Helen was greeted by the elder Mr. Gibson, who expressed his condolences, showed her around the showroom, and filled out the details of her order. Helen settled on a modest burial package, which Edith would have hated. She’d been forced to exist on a tight budget her entire life and had been resentful of not being able to splurge on tea at Claridge’s or a new hat every Easter. On her final journey, she would have loved to ride in a glass hearse overflowing with white flowers, pulled by a pair of black-plumed horses, and driven by a solemn-looking coachman decked out in a frock coat and top hat. Alas, her funeral would be as modest as her life had been, and Helen didn’t expect there’d be too many mourners.

  “We will collect the body around four,” Mr. Gibson said. “We have two funerals today, so we’re rather busy.”

  “Of course. I understand.”

  “Please prepare the clothes you wish Mrs. Brent to be buried in. Don’t forget undergarments, stockings, and shoes.”

  “I won’t. Thank you, Mr. Gibson.”

  “It’s my pleasure,” he replied, looking as if it really was.

  Helen then made her way to the church, where she scheduled a burial service with the vicar for Wednesday morning, after which she paid a visit to Agnes to inform her of Edith’s passing. Agnes insisted Helen stay for lunch and fed her a hearty slice of pork pie, followed by fruit compote and tea.

  “Would you like me to come back to the house with you?” Agnes asked. “I can prepare your mother’s things, if you’d rather not.”

  “Thank you, but I’ll be all right,” Helen replied. She appreciated the offer but felt the need to see to Edith herself. “I’ll see you at the funeral.”

  “Of course, dear. If there’s anything you need…”

  Helen thanked Agnes and returned home, where she selected Edith’s favorite dress, a pair of silk stockings, undergarments, and Edith’s best shoes. She also added her mother’s pot of rouge and lipstick to the bag. She wouldn’t want to be buried with an unmade face. Helen considered the question of jewelry. Would Edith want to be buried in her pearls? She didn’t think so. She’d see burying her valuables with her as wasteful. Helen removed her mother’s watch but left her wedding ring. She’d want to be buried with it.

  A strange hush fell over the house after the undertakers had gone, taking Edith with them. The house felt empty and dark, and watchful somehow. Helen considered going for a walk but felt unexpectedly tired. She heated some leftovers and sat down in the kitchen without bothering to turn on the light. Yesterday, at this time, David had been there, and her mother had still been alive. How quickly one’s life could change, Helen reflected as she cut into her mutton chop. How quickly joy could turn to sorrow.

  A knock at the door distracted Helen from her thoughts. She was relieved to see David standing on the threshold.

  “I came as soon as I heard,” he said, putting down his satchel and taking Helen into his arms. “Is there anything I can do?”

  “You can keep me company for a bit. It’s been such an awful day.”

  “What was it that—?” David left the question unfinished.

  “Heart attack. Dr. Ross said it would have been quick.”

  “Well, that’s a blessing at least.”

  �
��I suppose so.” Helen’s glance fell on David’s satchel.

  “I mean to stay the night,” he said softly. “You shouldn’t be alone.”

  “What will the neighbors say?” Helen said, but she knew she’d let him. Her need for him was far greater than the desire to observe propriety.

  “Helen, we are to be married. What difference does it make what the neighbors say? I’m here to support you in your time of need.”

  “I think you should move in,” Helen blurted out. “It makes no sense to maintain two residences.”

  “I agree. We can be married as soon as the mourning period is over.”

  “I want to be married now,” Helen replied.

  “Before the funeral?”

  “No, after. We can go to the registry office on Thursday and be done with it.”

  “Don’t you want a wedding?” David asked.

  Helen shook her head. “My mother was my only family, and you haven’t got any relations. We can invite Sarah and Bertie and Olly and Alice. Sarah and Olly can be our witnesses. What do you say?”

  “I say it’s a fine idea, if you’re sure and it’s not just the grief talking.”

  “I’m sure. Tomorrow I will prepare for the funeral. On Wednesday, we’ll bury my mother and have some people over to the house afterward. On Thursday, we’ll start a new life, you and I.”

  “I like the way you think,” David said. He leaned forward and kissed her tenderly, bringing tears to her eyes. “I love you, Helen,” he said.

  “I love you too,” Helen whispered into his shoulder. Knowing that he was there made her loss seem less devastating. Out of death came life.

  Chapter 22

  June 2015

  London, England

  Gabe stepped out into the garden, carrying a bottle of wine and two glasses. He wordlessly poured, then handed Quinn a glass, which she accepted gratefully. She stared up into the star-strewn sky, marveling that she could see the heavens so clearly despite the bright lights of the sprawling city. The evening was balmy, with the scent of flowers and freshly cut grass carried on the gentle breeze. The children were already in bed and Alex’s even breathing came over the baby monitor, which stood on the wrought-iron table.

  “Tell me about the case,” Gabe invited as he settled in and took a sip of wine. She was glad he hadn’t asked about Jo or Logan, neither of whom she’d heard from.

  Quinn shrugged. “There’s not much to tell. Helen and David seem like a nice, ordinary couple. There’s genuine devotion between them.”

  “No one is displaying homicidal tendencies?” Gabe asked with a smile.

  “No. They’re almost boring compared to my usual subjects. There’s no loveless marriage, no unrequited passion, no immediate threat to their safety. Helen’s mother’s sudden death, sad though it might be, paved the way forward for them. Once married, they would have the house and whatever assets Edith Brent left to her only daughter. Their life should have been ordered and comfortable.”

  “And yet, there was a dismembered child buried in their back garden. It is the same house, isn’t it?” Gabe asked.

  “It appears to be. I don’t understand it, Gabe. That baby was buried with love. What on earth happened to it? And what became of Helen and David? The couple who found the remains have been living at the house for more than fifty years, which means that Helen and David sold the house not long after they married, if they married.”

  “Have you looked up David?” Gabe asked.

  “No, not yet.”

  “Quinn, are you all right?” Gabe asked, his eyes searching her face anxiously. He always knew when something was on her mind and drew it out of her, and although Quinn had tried valiantly to keep it from him, he could sense her unease. “Is it Jo again?”

  “No, not this time.”

  “So, what’s troubling you?”

  “I had a call from Seth while you were putting Alex to bed.” Quinn reached for the glass of wine and drained it. She almost laughed out loud at Gabe’s astounded expression. Normally, she drank her wine one sip at a time, savoring the pleasure. “The appeal hearing took place this morning. Brett’s conviction has been overturned.”

  Gabe swore eloquently. “I was afraid this would happen since Seth beat a confession out of Brett. Had Brett’s court-appointed lawyer been more competent, he might have argued that it was inadmissible in court.”

  “Well, he had a more competent lawyer this time, the best Seth’s money could buy. Brett is free.”

  “I’m sorry. I can’t imagine how you must feel,” Gabe said softly.

  “I’m happy for Kathy and Seth; I really am. They have their son back, but I find it maddening that a person can get off on a technicality after trying to kill his own sister. Everyone knows he did it. The only difference this time was the legal mumbo-jumbo that was pulled out of a hat, like a rabbit in a magic trick. It’s not about justice, but about the skill of the legal team. Nothing new there, I suppose. Many a murderer has gone free, and many an innocent man has been convicted due to lack of competent counsel.”

  “I’m sorry,” Gabe said again.

  “You know, it’s funny, but Echoes has completely changed my life.”

  “How so?”

  “Had I not taken Elise and James’s belongings home after their remains were found in that chest, there’d have been no break-in. Sylvia would not have seen my name on the news and attempted to make contact. I’d never have known about my possible fathers or gone looking for them. I’d never have met Seth, or Brett, for that matter, and I’d have never known I was a twin. I’d have blithely gone through my life, believing I was an only child. On the whole, finding my birth family has brought me a lot more grief than joy.”

  “Quinn, at the risk of sounding like a complete ass, I have to argue that life is all about managing expectations. Your expectations were never realistic. There is no such thing as a perfect family. People are people, in any part of the world, and in any century. They are flawed, and they lash out when they feel threatened. You backed Brett into a corner and threatened to expose something he needed to keep secret. You blundered along without ever asking yourself what impact your televised revelations might have on other members of the family. Now, I’m not saying that I sympathize with him or feel he was justified in what he tried to do, but people have killed for less. You of all people know that.”

  “Are you saying it was my fault?” Quinn asked, incredulous that Gabe would even suggest such a thing after what she’d been through.

  “No, of course not. I’m only saying that you never know what will tip someone over the edge, and you have to tread carefully when it comes to someone’s secrets.”

  Quinn sighed. “You are right. I should have told him what I’d discovered, and asked Brett and Seth’s permission to make our personal history the subject of an episode instead of assuming they’d be okay with it,” Quinn admitted. “I was so excited to finally learn the truth of my family that I never imagined Brett would feel so rattled.”

  “What you discovered changed not only the way the world saw him but the way he saw himself. He couldn’t handle it.”

  “Gabe, what are you getting at?” Quinn asked, suddenly realizing that there was a point to this conversation.

  “I’m saying that you should find David Edevane or his descendants and ask for their consent before you commit to telling this story. This is not something that happened four hundred years ago; this happened only a generation ago and shining a spotlight on this family might have repercussions.”

  “But I don’t even know what happened yet,” Quinn argued.

  “No, but you know something did.”

  Quinn inclined her head in agreement. “I give you my word that I will put this to the Edevane descendants before any decisions are made. Rhys has already consulted legal anyway. Any living descendants will have to sign a release, allowing us to tell their family’s story.” She held out her glass for a refill and fixed Gabe with a gimlet stare.

  �
�And what about Jo? Are my expectations off the mark with her as well?” she demanded. “You might as well tell me, since you seem bent on brutal honesty.” She took the sting out of her words with a smile. She wasn’t upset with Gabe. She valued his opinion and appreciated his candor. Few people would have the courage to tell her the truth, and sometimes, she needed to hear it.

  “All right, but you’re not going to like it,” Gabe replied, smiling back. “Jo has issues that have nothing whatsoever to do with you. I think a part of her genuinely wants to like you, but a part of her needs to reject you to feel whole. You bring out her insecurities.”

  “Is that why she left without saying goodbye, do you think?”

  “Possibly. Or maybe she left because she discovered something she wasn’t quite ready to deal with.”

  “Like what happened to her child?” Quinn mused. “Then it must have been something tragic for her reaction to be so volatile.”

  “I won’t try to guess, but I don’t think you should ask her for an explanation. She’ll tell you herself if she wants to.”

  “She won’t.”

  “Then there’s your answer.”

  “Logan’s not returning my calls either,” Quinn complained.

  “He will. Once he’s ready to talk.”

  “You know, you’re only this rational because you don’t have siblings,” Quinn said, annoyed despite having asked for the truth.

  “You’re probably right. But my mum has several, and I’ve had a front-row seat to that particular drama all my life. I know the reality of having a large family.”

  “And yet you still want one,” Quinn remarked.

  “I do. My mum and her siblings go at it hammer and tongs, or used to when they were younger, but they love each other to bits, and there’s no one in the world who can come between them, especially in a crisis.”

  “Thank you,” Quinn said, smiling tenderly at Gabe.

  “For what?”

  “For being honest. For putting life in perspective. For reminding me to keep my feet firmly planted on the ground. You’re a very useful person to have around.”