Quinn wiped a stray tear away. Her heart broke for Helen and her family. How cruel life could be, and how random. Had Annie been born whole, the Edevanes might have survived as a family. Helen might have eventually discovered the truth of her birth and been able to forgive herself for keeping the secret she’d thought was so explosive. She’d have had a normal life, and so would Annie.
Sighing, Quinn stopped the recording. “Thank you for sharing your family’s story, Mr. Edevane. I’ll be in touch regarding a formal interview.”
“You just let me know when you plan to film. I’ll need some new togs. Will there be a fee, do you think?”
“I’m sure something can be arranged,” Quinn replied. She couldn’t speak on Rhys’s behalf, but she was sure David Edevane would be generously compensated for his story. After all, he was the first descendant to come on the program to tell the tale in his own words, having been there at the time the events took place.
Quinn and David shook hands and she left him to finish the Jaffa cakes. Having heard the whole story, she wasn’t sure if she felt less or more upset. She didn’t believe for a moment that Helen had smothered that child, nor had she seen it in her visions. Was it possible for a person to block something out so completely that it would be erased from their memory? She didn’t think so. Helen hadn’t killed that child any more than David had. Annie had to have died of natural causes. Quinn breathed a sigh of relief. For some reason, knowing that made her feel a little better.
Pulling out her mobile, she rang Rhys again. The call went directly to voicemail. This time, Quinn left a snippier message. “Rhys, ring me back, or I’ll send in the cavalry. I’m getting worried. And I have some very interesting news for you. Ring me,” she added forcefully.
Her mobile vibrated before she reached the Tube station. “I appreciate your concern, but I’ve never been better, and there’s no need to send anyone,” Rhys said. His voice sounded like warm honey and she thought she heard the rustle of crisp sheets.
“Are you still in bed?” Quinn demanded. “It’s a weekday, for God’s sake.”
Rhys responded with a throaty laugh. “I’m on my honeymoon.”
“You’re what?”
“I’m in Paris. Katya and I were married on Saturday. We’ll be back in London tomorrow night.”
“Eh… Congratulations. Well, this is a surprise,” Quinn said. She knew she sounded less than congratulatory, but it seemed Rhys had jumped into this relationship with both feet. She only hoped he wouldn’t get hurt again.
“Be happy for me, Quinn,” Rhys said, his voice rippling with feeling. “I’ve had many relationships in my life, but nothing has ever felt this right. I feel like—I don’t know how to explain it—like I’ve finally come home, I suppose.”
Quinn smiled and shook her head in wonder. “Then may it be a home filled with joy, and with the laughter of children. I’m happy for you, Rhys. Truly.”
“Thank you. Now what was this news you had for me?”
“It can wait. Go spend time with your wife.”
“My wonderful wife went out to buy croissants and coffee. We’re having breakfast in bed.”
“It’s almost noon,” Quinn replied with a chuckle.
“Which would explain why I’m so hungry.”
“I’ll talk to you when you get back, Rhys. Au revoir.”
Quinn disconnected the call and descended into the Tube station. She only realized she had a silly grin on her face when several people gave her amused stares. Good for you, Rhys, she thought. You deserve to be happy.
When Quinn got home, Alex and Nicola were in the garden. Alex was sitting on a blanket on the grass, and Nicola was rolling a ball to him. He rolled it back and laughed with glee.
“Hello, Mrs. Russell. How did your meeting go?”
“Very well, thank you. Where’s Emma?”
“She’s at her friend’s house. Mr. Russell took her round.”
“Did he say when he’d be back?” Quinn asked. She couldn’t wait to tell Gabe about her interview with David Edevane and Rhys’s happy news.
“No, he didn’t. He said he had an errand to run.”
“Okay. Nicola, would you mind feeding Alex and then taking him for a walk? I just need an hour or so to finish some work.”
“Of course.” Nicola scooped Alex up and carried him inside.
Chapter 51
August 1961
London, England
The sun had come out after three days of pouring rain. Helen got up early, made a cup of tea, and sat by the window, watching a sparrow hop from branch to branch. She’d refused to bury Annie in the rain. She deserved a beautiful day filled with sunshine and the smell of roses as she was laid to rest, and today would be that day. She tried not to think of the eternal darkness or the loamy smell of the earth that would swallow her baby. Annie was no longer there. She was in a place of warmth and light, and joy.
Helen finished her tea and walked into the parlor, where David slept on the sofa. She was momentarily angry with him for falling asleep, but the grayness of his face and the harsh set of his lips, even in sleep, reminded her of his suffering. She’d maintained vigil over Annie since Sunday, agreeing to sleep for a few hours only when David took over.
Letting him sleep, Helen picked up Annie and took her into the kitchen, where she set about preparing her body for burial. She washed her thoroughly, brushed her downy hair with a baby brush, and dressed her in the pretty yellow dress she’d worn on Sunday. It was the color of sunshine, and of the primroses that would watch over her during the summer months. Once finished, she wrapped Annie in her yellow shawl and pinned the ends with her “H” brooch, to keep Annie from getting cold. Even after three days, Annie looked like she was sleeping. Her eyes were closed, her lashes fanning her pale cheeks, and wisps of hair curling over her tiny ears. The only mark of death was the pallor and the bluish tint to her lips, but Helen chose not to focus on that. She bent down and kissed Annie on the forehead, before going to wake David.
“It’s time,” she said simply as she touched him on the shoulder. David opened his eyes, took in her determined face, and sat up. “Would you like a cup of tea first?” Helen asked.
David seemed surprised by the question, but nodded, his eyes still clouded with sleep. He followed Helen into the kitchen. “Jesus Christ,” he muttered when he saw Annie laid out on the kitchen table.
Helen didn’t reply. What was there to say? She watched in silence as David drank his tea. He didn’t sit at the table, but stood by the sink, his gaze firmly fixed on the tree outside the kitchen window. He’s already let her go, Helen thought as she watched him. He’s ready to move forward. The thought made her angry, and sad. Annie had been gone for only three days, and she wasn’t ready to accept her loss. She didn’t think she ever could. She turned away so David wouldn’t see her tears. She’d cried enough over the past few days to know that he could no longer handle her grief. He hadn’t said so out loud, but she could see in it his eyes—the acceptance, tinged with relief.
“Should I go on, then?” David asked as he put the cup in the sink.
“Yes. We’ll wake Davy when we’re ready.”
David nodded and left the kitchen, going to fetch a shovel. Helen remained inside. She couldn’t bear to watch. Twenty minutes later, she roused Davy from sleep and summoned him out to the garden. Still in his pajamas, Davy hung back, refusing to look at the hole in the ground. It was heartbreakingly small, like a grave for a beloved family pet, and about three feet deep. Helen was surprised when David brought out a length of oilcloth.
“What’s that for?” she asked, as she held Annie closer to her breast.
“It’s to wrap her up,” David explained. “To keep moisture, and eh…well, roots away from the body,” he explained, looking relived to have come up with something that didn’t sound as gruesome as what he had to be thinking. “Let me have her, Helen.”
Helen shook her head. “No.”
David didn’t argue. He sim
ply stood back, giving Helen time to say goodbye. Neither of them made speeches or read from the Bible. They simply stood, heads bowed, eyes downcast.
“Mum, I need to pee,” Davy said, breaking the silence.
Helen nodded. She silently handed Annie to David, who wrapped her in the oilcloth and laid her in the makeshift grave. He looked to Helen, who gave a small nod. David filled the tiny grave and leaned on his shovel, looking to Helen for instructions.
“Go on, Davy,” Helen said. “And don’t forget to wash your hands and clean your teeth. I’ll make you some breakfast,” she added as she turned to go back inside.
“Helen,” David began, but Helen held up her hand.
“Don’t say it, David.”
“Say what?”
“How it’s for the best that she left us. I know what you’re thinking. She’d have had a miserable life, deprived of all the things that make life worth living. She’s better off, in your opinion.”
“Well, maybe she is,” David replied defensively. “Would you want to live like that, Helen? Would you want to spend your whole life watching other people doing the things you never can? Would you want to see the pity and horror in people’s faces when they met you for the first time, or any time? Would you want to be so completely helpless? I know I wouldn’t. I’d rather be dead, so you know what? I’m happy for her. I’m happy she doesn’t have to suffer or ever know what she’d been cheated out of.”
“I cheated her,” Helen cried. “I sentenced her to this.”
“You did not, and I won’t hear you say that,” David snapped. “What happened to Annie was a tragedy, but neither you nor I are responsible. I refuse to accept the blame for something I didn’t choose to do. This happened to us, to her, to Davy, but we didn’t cause it. We’re the victims, not the perpetrators.”
“Speak for yourself,” Helen said, her voice low and angry. “You want to absolve yourself, go ahead, but I don’t have that luxury. You never knew the truth, but I did. I made the choice to ignore it, to pretend everything was all right. This is my punishment, my cross to bear, and I will bear it for as long as I live. Please God, may it not be too long. I can’t bear the thought of Annie all alone.”
“Helen!” David exclaimed. “Please, don’t say that. We need you, Davy and me. We will move on from this. Maybe even have another baby,” he added gently, hope shining from his eyes. He made a move to touch her, but Helen drew back as if she were repulsed by him.
“There will never be another baby, David. From now on, we will live as brother and sister, not as husband and wife. I will atone for my sin.”
“Helen, you’re not—”
Helen held up her hand. “Don’t say another word, David. I’ve made up my mind. You do as you must. I will understand if you wish to divorce me or if you find another woman, but I can no longer be a wife to you.”
Helen turned and walked into the kitchen. She’d thought her heart would break once she told David of her decision, but all she felt was numbness. Some door had closed in her soul the moment Annie passed, leaving her unable to walk out of her prison. All she could do was serve her time, atone for her sin, and pray that her baby didn’t spend an eternity in purgatory.
**
Quinn tossed the brooch down on the coffee table and buried her face in her hands. The desolation that swept over her felt like a huge black wave on a dark, stormy sea. She couldn’t remain standing in the face of its power, its deadly force. Quinn lay down on the sofa and curled into a ball, silent tears falling for Annie, Helen, David and their son.
Chapter 52
June 2015
London, England
The photo had popped up just as Gabe was getting ready to walk Emma to Jenny’s house for her playdate. This time, it had come from Jo’s own number, and the picture wasn’t as tame as the first one. She was still sitting on the bed, her hands in her hair, her face slightly turned away from the camera, but this time, she’d sent him a frontal shot. Her full breasts, tipped with rosy nipples, were center stage, and her legs were parted just enough to give a glimpse of what was on offer. Gabe stared at the image, unable to tear his gaze away. Jo was beautiful, no doubt about that, but she was also feral, and hungry. The look on her face said it all: Come and get it.
“Daddy, what are you staring at?” Emma demanded. “Let’s go.” She slung her pink backpack over one shoulder and walked purposefully toward the door.
“Coming, darling,” Gabe replied, shoving the phone into his pocket. He said goodbye to Alex and Nicola and headed out the door, his mind still on Jo.
He listened to Emma prattle on endlessly as they walked but could barely focus on what she was saying. The image of Jo’s naked body was still in his mind, refusing to go away no matter how hard he tried. She was brazen, he’d give her that, and persistent. He hadn’t responded to the last photo, and Gabe was sure she knew that he’d blocked the number it’d come from, but there was no stopping her. She was all in, so he had no choice but to react.
Gabe left Emma at Jenny’s house with the promise to collect her in three hours, then headed for the Tube station. If Jo wanted to play, he’d play, he decided, but he’d make the rules.
Gabe quickened his step as Jo’s building loomed ahead. Now that he was here, he was eager to get down to business. If she was all in, so was he. He was done with playing dumb. That strategy clearly hadn’t worked, and if anything, his refusal to acknowledge her advances only served to spur Jo on. He rang the bell and waited for her to answer.
“Come up,” Jo purred into the speaker.
Gabe took the steps two at a time, his heart pounding with anticipation. His breath caught in his throat when Jo answered the door. She was completely naked, her dark hair cascading over her shoulders in shiny waves. She smiled seductively and stepped aside to let him in.
“What took you so long?” she asked.
“I had an errand to run,” Gabe replied huskily. He approached her slowly and looked down into her upturned face. The look in her eyes nearly undid him, but he meant to take his time and prolong the pleasure. He encircled her waist and pulled her closer. “Tell me what you want, Jo,” he said as he looked deep into her eyes.
“Have I not made it clear?”
“You have, but I need to hear it. Say it. Tell me what you want me to do to you.”
“Ah, so you’re a talker,” she replied, her voice silky and seductive. “Okay, I will tell you exactly what I want you to do. How graphic would you like me to get?”
Gabe pulled her against his overheated body. “I want you to get really dirty,” he growled. “I know you’re not shy.”
“Why don’t I demonstrate as I talk?” she offered and led him into the bedroom, where she lay on the bed and spread her legs.
“Can I record it?” he asked.
“Only if you promise to whack off to it later,” Jo replied.
“Oh, I promise,” he drawled, training his mobile on her. “Go on,” he invited.
Jo didn’t disappoint. She had none of Quinn’s shyness. She told him exactly what she wanted and used her fingers to illustrate. Gabe could smell her arousal and feel her desperate need for him. He wanted to stop, but he kept filming, wanting to get as much as he could.
“Say my name,” he ordered her.
“Gabe,” she purred. “Put down that phone and fuck me, Gabe. Better yet, set it over there, so you can have the entire Jo Turing show for your viewing pleasure. Come, I bet it’ll turn you on to watch it later.”
“You’ve no idea how much,” Gabe replied.
Jo withdrew her hand from between her legs and licked her finger for the camera. She was so ready.
Chapter 53
Quinn hauled herself off the sofa and trudged to the study. She had to type up her notes from the David Edevane interview, and then she would be nearly finished with the case. Once Darren recorded the formal interview, she’d step away until it was time to film the episode, which wouldn’t be for a few months. She’d have time to put so
me distance between herself and Helen’s unbearable pain.
Quinn opened a new document and began to type, describing David in the introduction. He seemed well adjusted and pleased with his accomplishments, but Quinn couldn’t help wondering what his life might have been like after Annie’s death. He’d been too young to understand his mother’s feelings, but old enough to remember what she had been like before. Had Helen still devoted herself to him after Annie’s death, or had she been so lost in her grief that Davy became just another reminder of the child she’d lost and the sin she believed she’d committed? Quinn hoped Davy had still felt her love, even if she wasn’t always fully emotionally present.
The text alert on her mobile buzzed, and Quinn reached for the phone, glad of the interruption. The text was from Gabe: “Quinn, I’m so sorry, but I had no choice.”
Quinn clicked on the attached video file and Jo’s sultry voice filled the study, demanding, pleading, seducing, betraying, and cruelly destroying Quinn’s love and trust. As frame after frame flashed before Quinn’s eyes, she no longer heard the words, or even saw the images. She was trembling, her extremities suddenly ice-cold. Black spots danced before her eyes as her stomach turned itself inside out, giving her just enough time to grab for the rubbish bin beneath the desk before she was violently sick.
Quinn continued to heave long after she finished vomiting, her body still reacting to the shock of what she’d seen. She finally set down the bin and rested her forehead against the cool wood of the desk. Mercifully, the video file had come to an end, and she no longer heard her sister begging Gabe to fuck her. It was the right word, Quinn thought queasily. She didn’t want his love, or even his affection. She wanted him to be unyielding, rough, sadistic even. She wanted him to hurt her, to use her, to exploit her, but all the while, she’d be exploiting him. Jo had a void in her soul that no man could fill. She needed anger, aggression, and pain to make her feel alive, to help her get off.
The Broken (Echoes from the Past Book 8) Page 26