The Three Women

by Valerie Keogh

  Megan could tell from her friend’s tight-lipped expression that something was bothering her. ‘What is it?’ she asked, the alcohol making her brave. Whatever it was that Beth was reluctant to say, she knew it wasn’t something good. She tipped the remainder of the wine in the glass into her mouth, and reached for the bottle. ‘Tell me, I’m a big girl, I can take it.’ She was lying, she really wasn’t sure she could take much more but she was a good liar, hadn’t she already proven that?

  ‘Okay,’ Beth said, looking down at her feet. ‘I don’t think you should come with me tomorrow.’

  Megan didn’t know what she’d been expecting, but not this rejection. ‘Why?’ she managed, unable to prevent the tremor in the one word.

  ‘Because whatever’s wrong with Jo, it started the night you made your confession. She’s not been the same since.’ Beth’s shrug was apologetic. ‘I’m afraid if you come, you might make things worse.’

  Megan stood speechless as she watched Beth turn and walk from the room. It wasn’t until she heard the sound of the spare bedroom shutting that she moved, anger flashing through her. She put the wine bottle down and threw her empty glass across the room, taking a measure of satisfaction in the crash as it hit the wall and smashed into tiny pieces. She wasn’t sure who she was angry with. With Beth for laying all the blame on a lie that was never meant to harm, with Trudy for leaving her, or with the world in general for shifting precariously under her feet.

  Megan rubbed a hand over her forehead. For the first time in her life, she had no future planned, nothing to look forward to, just a vast emptiness that made her head ache and sent ice sliding down her spine. She was genuinely worried about Joanne, of course she was, but she hadn’t really wanted to traipse down to Royal Tunbridge Wells to be blamed and berated, nor did she really want to know Joanne’s secret. She’d learned, too late as it happened, that secrets should stay just that.

  With enough woes of her own to occupy her, the offer to go with Beth was made on the spur of the moment, in a spirit of camaraderie and out of concern for Joanne. Reality had kicked in almost before the words were said; she was due in the Magistrate’s Court at nine and the CPS wouldn’t take kindly to her ringing so late with some made-up excuse. Still, Beth’s rejection cut deeply.

  She was slightly surprised that the ordinarily astute Beth had been so easily fooled by whatever performance Joanne had put on. Or maybe she shouldn’t have been; after all, if Megan couldn’t think straight since Trudy had left, maybe it was the same for Beth. They were both suffering.

  Frowning, Megan thought about what Beth had said… that whatever was wrong with Joanne began the night Megan had told them about her deception. A coincidence, wasn’t it? Whatever Joanne had done, whatever secret she was talking about couldn’t possibly be anything to do with her, could it? Maybe it was just that her honesty had forced Joanne to confront something she’d done in the past. Megan nodded. That would be it. Hardly her fault then, was it? Everything couldn’t be laid on her and that stupid, thoughtless, spur-of-the-moment decision she’d made twenty years earlier.

  Tears gathered and trickled, ignored, down her cheeks. One thing could be laid firmly at her feet, the destruction of her relationship with Trudy. It would be nice to believe that it was Beth’s fault for telling her in the first place, to shift blame in her direction, but that was a fool’s game. The fault was hers, just hers. Accepting that didn’t make it any easier. It didn’t make the pain any easier to bear. It didn’t make that bleak empty future any easier to face.

  Wearily, drying her eyes, she stood up, feeling a weakness that was partially due to the alcohol, and partly due to the desolation that came over her in waves. She stood a moment in the hallway wondering if she should go and speak to Beth and tell her she was right, that for the moment she’d leave Joanne to her. But there was no light showing from underneath the door and when she pressed her ear to it there was no sound to be heard. She moved away. It would be unkind to disturb her; she’d been exhausted and probably fell asleep immediately. There’d be time to talk in the morning.

  Shutting her bedroom door quietly, Megan leaned against it for a moment before turning to look at the bed she had shared with Trudy for so many years. How could it have ended the way it did? Was it right that she should be paying so much for one stupid mistake? She would never have thought Trudy could be so coldly unforgiving, or maybe she’d never really known her at all.

  Despite her exhaustion, despite the wine, Megan knew she’d never get to sleep with so much churning in her head. Trudy took sleeping tablets on occasion, the packet kept on a shelf in the bathroom cabinet. Taking it out, Megan pressed one from the foil and then pressed a second, avoiding the face that looked back at her from the cabinet mirror. She didn’t want to see the pain in her eyes, didn’t want to see the sad droop of her mouth. She didn’t want to see, feel or think, and hoped the two pills would give her some much-needed, if temporary, oblivion.

  Too exhausted to undress, she lay down on Trudy’s side of the bed and buried her nose in her pillow. With every breath, she came to her; that spicy exotic perfume she favoured, the vanilla body lotion she always used. Suddenly frantic to be closer to her, Megan pushed back the duvet, kicked off her shoes and crawled underneath. There was more of her there. Megan breathed her in and curled into the duvet to surround herself in the scent of the only woman she’d ever loved.

  Eventually, gratefully, she fell into a deep medicated sleep.

  Sometime during the night, she must have overheated and thrown off her clothes. When she woke, the first thing she saw was her skirt and shirt in a heap on the floor. She groaned and turned onto her back, resting a hand over her eyes as sunlight filtered through the fine gauze voile. She’d forgotten to close the heavy curtains. It had always been the last thing Trudy did at night. She hated bright mornings and would be awake with the first ray of sunshine if the room weren’t in complete darkness. Megan felt tears gather. Everything was changing and every change was painful.

  The apartment was quiet. She wondered, vaguely, what time it was. She tended to wake automatically around seven and never bothered with an alarm. Beth, she guessed, was probably still asleep. Turning again, Megan wiped her eyes, lifted her head to look at the clock on the bedside table and blinked with shock when she saw the time. Nine thirty! She’d missed her nine o’clock appearance at the court. There would be hell to pay.

  A wave of nausea hit her. Swinging her feet hurriedly to the floor, she stumbled to the bathroom and hung her head over the toilet as her stomach spasmed and a stream of fluid gushed from her mouth. The rancid taste of old wine made her retch again.

  When she was sure she’d finished, she went to the wash handbasin and turned on the taps to rinse her mouth and throw some water on her face. A glance in the mirror told her she looked as bad as she felt. With a hand on the wall to steady her, she went to the lounge to get her phone. ‘I’m really sorry,’ she said when it was answered. ‘I’ve been sick all night, and then fell asleep just when I’d planned to ring. Food poisoning, I think,’ she added when asked what was wrong. ‘I’ll be back as soon as I can.’

  The Criminal Prosecution Service secretary was always a bit cool so Megan ignored the less-than-friendly advice to see a doctor and hung up. She stood with the phone in her hand for a few seconds before returning to her room, grabbing a robe from the back of the door and crossing to the spare bedroom. She tapped gently, listened, and knocked a little louder.

  Finally, she opened the door slowly and peered around its edge. The bed was empty. ‘Beth?’ she called, going inside and moving across the room to the door of the en suite. It too was empty. She had gone.

  The silence of the apartment seemed to taunt her.

  Only when the quiet was broken by the sound of her sobs did Megan finally move.

  25

  Usually, Beth could get to sleep easily, but not that night. She always carried medication for migraine and took two pills, feeling relief within the hour, but sti
ll she couldn’t switch off and lay for another hour, tossing and turning. She’d have liked a cup of tea but, now and then, the sound of movement indicated Megan was still awake. If Beth went to the kitchen, Megan might join her, and they’d end up having one of those conversations that went around in circles. Yes, Beth shouldn’t have told Trudy something she’d sworn to keep secret, but Megan shouldn’t have lied in the first place. Playing the blame game was exhausting and nobody ever won.

  Instead, Beth lay thinking about Graham, wondering where he was, what he was doing, and who he was doing it with. If there wasn’t someone already, there soon would be. He was a man who liked female company, who preferred to be in a relationship. He’d told her once after walking through the front door that he loved having someone to come home to, and they’d hugged. The memory made her heart ache. An incredibly handsome man, with those brown eyes and that mop of shaggy blond hair, she guessed Graham – her Graham whom she still loved – wouldn’t be on his own for long.

  The only way to stop thinking about him was to force her thoughts to the more seriously pressing matter of her suspension. The risks she’d taken over the years had seemed worth it. Now, she didn’t know. How many of those men she’d planted evidence on, or helped put away, were as innocent as that poor fool in Capel-le-Ferne?

  A noise outside her door made her hold her breath. Then she heard the distinct sound of the bedroom door opposite opening and closing. She stayed an hour longer, alternating trying to get to sleep with churning troubling thoughts over in her head. Finally, she threw the duvet back and got up.

  A few minutes later, dressed and carrying her shoes, Beth slipped from the apartment, closing the front door softly behind her.

  It was still night, but in London it was never really dark. She pulled her car out onto the night-time quiet road, thought about heading home for a change of clothes and maybe some breakfast but then decided to take the road that would eventually lead her back to Royal Tunbridge Wells.

  It was, of course, far too early to descend on Joanne. Instead, Beth stopped at the first service station she came to and sat with the other night owls: the truck drivers, taxi drivers, shift-workers and the people who had nowhere else to go, sipping strong coffee and waiting restlessly for the night to end.

  At eight, she decided it was time to leave. There was only so much bad coffee she could drink and only so long she could ignore the leering eyes of the truck driver who’d been staring at her for the last twenty minutes, his hand moving over the obvious bulge in his crotch. Fat and sweaty, she could have easily thrown him to the floor but that would have brought the security guard she could see walking up and down outside to the scene. It wasn’t worth it.

  Back on the road, the traffic was heavy but moving. She tuned the radio to a music channel and increased the volume to drown her thoughts, lowering it down quickly as she turned onto Joanne’s quiet residential road. It was almost nine as she parked beside Joanne’s car. Getting out, Beth looked around. There were cars pulling out of driveways and parking spaces, people going about their business, living their normal everyday lives. She looked at Joanne’s house. It looked pretty normal too but Beth knew something odd was going on inside.

  Joanne’s car didn’t appear to have been moved. It didn’t prove anything, she could have ordered a taxi to take her to the appointment she’d mentioned. Beth stood back and looked up at the house. There was no light creeping around the edges of the shuttered windows. Maybe Joanne was still asleep.

  Beth pressed the doorbell, waited a few minutes and pressed again. When there was still no response, frustrated, Beth decided to get some breakfast and come back later. The food at the service station had been unappetising and she hadn’t eaten anything the day before. No wonder she was feeling weary, weak and out of sorts. After something to eat, she’d be better able to think and decide what to do.

  Leaving her car where it was, she walked down Grove Hill Road. It was a lovely morning, the houses she passed were architecturally striking enough to command her attention but try as she might, her attention drifted, her thoughts focusing on Joanne. At the roundabout, unsure of which direction to go, she chose to turn right along Mount Pleasant Road. There was a mix of houses and high-end independent shops just opening their door for business. Her eyes drifted over the windows of a butcher’s, an artisan bakery, and what looked like an extremely pricey clothes shop. Finally, after another five minutes’ walk, she reached what she was looking for and pushed open the door into a warm cosy café.

  This early, there were only a couple of customers, eyes glued to newspapers, or mobiles, free hands lifting food or drink. Nobody was speaking although the café wasn’t quiet thanks to background music that came from speakers set high on the walls. Elevator music, Graham always called it, and he’d go and ask for something different to be played. She almost smiled at the memory, dismissing it and him to concentrate on the young man behind the counter who was waiting impatiently.

  Behind him, on the wall, a white board was scrawled with curly, almost illegible writing showing the morning’s menu. She gave it a cursory glance and took out her purse. ‘I’ll have the scrambled eggs on toast, please, and a large coffee.’

  He didn’t bother writing her order down. ‘Take a seat and I’ll bring it over when it’s ready.’

  Beth took a table in the bay window overlooking the street, pulling out a chair and sitting with a weary grunt. Her eyes felt gritty from tiredness. She hoped the coffee and food would make her feel a little more human. But she had no appetite and when both came, she picked up the fork listlessly. With effort, she forced herself to eat almost half the scrambled egg before giving up and pushing the plate away. There was no problem, however, in finishing the coffee, it was excellent, and when she finished the first, she went up and ordered another, hoping the caffeine would help to keep her awake.

  Lingering over the second coffee, she glanced around as the café filled with people and enough chatter to drown out the music. When she found herself staring with a twinge of jealousy at a loved-up couple at another table, she knew it was time to move.

  It was just after ten when she stood outside Joanne’s house again but if she’d hoped to see a sign of life, she was disappointed. Nothing had changed. With little enthusiasm and less hope, Beth pressed the doorbell, letting it ring for a long time before removing her finger. Taking out her mobile, she left the same message as she had the previous day, hoping to get the same positive response. ‘You have ten minutes to open the door, Joanne, or I’m ringing the police.’

  Beth waited for a few minutes, staring at the house as if expecting to see some indication of Joanne’s presence before swearing softly and getting back into her car. It was as easy to wait there as to stand or sit on the doorstep, and certainly a lot warmer. She propped her mobile on the dashboard, adjusted the seat back a little and sat staring at the front door, willing it to open. Despite the amount of coffee she’d had, a wave of tiredness washed over her. Perhaps, feeling this tired, sitting down hadn’t been such a good idea. She’d shut her eyes for a few minutes to rest them.

  The knock on the car door that woke her was so loud Beth jerked upward and banged her knee hard on the steering wheel. ‘Ouch, damn it,’ she said, grabbing her knee before looking out the window. Expecting to see Joanne, Beth groaned when she saw who was staring through the window. Megan! What the hell was she doing here? Still rubbing her knee, there was nothing Beth could do but open the door. ‘Hi,’ Beth said, getting out, putting her foot gingerly to the ground. It felt like her knee was broken, but she guessed it wasn’t. She glared at Megan. ‘I thought we’d agreed you were going to stay at home?’

  ‘No, we didn’t agree. You made a statement and walked away without discussing it, as if I were a not-very-bright junior member of your team.’ Megan’s voice was sharp with annoyance. ‘And if you’d bothered to wake me before you left, Beth, I wouldn’t bloody well be here either. I had a case in the Magistrate’s Court at nine and I missed it
. Do you have any idea how detrimental that is to my career?’

  Beth raised an eyebrow. ‘How on earth can I be responsible for you not waking on time? That’s a stretch by anyone’s standards. What time is it anyway?’ She reached into the car to pick up her phone as she spoke and checked the screen, blinking in disbelief when she saw it was midday. ‘I fell asleep,’ she said, almost to herself. She looked at Megan’s worried face. ‘I rang the doorbell and waited. When Joanne didn’t answer, I did what I did yesterday, left a message saying I’d give her ten minutes before ringing the police. I sat in the car to wait… that was just after ten o’clock.’

  Megan turned to the house. ‘Maybe she’s not here. She may have taken a train somewhere.’

  ‘I thought the same yesterday but she was here.’ The two hours’ sleep had done Beth good. She felt much better, more able to think logically. ‘Let’s try the doorbell again. Maybe she did come out, saw me asleep, and decided to leave me alone.’ Beth didn’t really believe what she was saying, but trying the doorbell again would do no harm and would give her time to think about what they should do next.

  They waited several minutes on the doorstep, ringing the bell for a long time, shouting through the letterbox when they got no reply. Beth rang Joanne’s mobile again and left the same message and they waited, without a word, as the minutes ticked by.

  26

  When it was obvious that either Joanne wasn’t there or wasn’t going to answer, Megan looked at Beth and said, ‘What do we do now?’

  Beth tapped the phone against her chin. The threat to ring the police was made in earnest, but she couldn’t bring herself to take that drastic step. After all, it might be that Joanne’s appointment required her to stay overnight somewhere. Maybe she had taken a train. Without answering Megan’s question, Beth walked out to the footpath and checked up and down the street. ‘Come on,’ she said and started walking, leaving Megan to catch up. ‘I think there might be a laneway behind these houses,’ Beth said, as Megan fell into step beside her. ‘It’s worth having a look.’