by Diane Saxon
‘What about the woman? Emily… or Fern?’ Fliss accepted another plate, this one piled high and passed it to Adrian, giving an affectionate tap to Domino’s nose as he rested his chin on the round garden table in a sly move to bring himself closer to the food.
Jenna stabbed a piece of cucumber and held it on her fork. ‘Emily Fern Shenton.’ Anger was the last of her feelings for the woman. Confusion, pity, sadness. ‘A diagnosed schizophrenic.’
Mason hovered over the top of her with the bottle of Prosecco, expression full of concern as he topped her glass up. As it fizzed to the rim, he sent her a smile. ‘Diagnosed and left unsupervised. Poor bloody woman, you must have pity in your heart for her. Even if you managed to give me a bloody heart attack again.’ Mason handed Adrian a bottle of Dogfish Head Ale with a casualness that warmed Jenna’s heart. The boys had bonded well in the last few months. It was a good feeling to know there was harmony.
Fliss’s frown shot a long vertical crease between her eyebrows. ‘How could that happen? How could someone be abandoned like that?’
Mason scooped up his beer and plonked his backside in a deckchair as the sun shot its last golden and amber rays across the clear navy sky littered with the flutter of pipistrelle bats. ‘A counsellor whose pregnancy, she believed, would affect the rationality of her patient and therefore declined to continue to see her. Couldn’t blame the counsellor, it’s the system that’s shite.’
Fliss joined them and sank into the remaining chair, with far more elegance than Mason had displayed. ‘Surely, she was assigned to someone else?’
Jenna sliced off a strip of steak and nodded. ‘She was in the process of being passed over. Because of her history, they were uncomfortable assigning a male to her case. They believed because she was steady on her medication, she’d be okay for a few weeks without a counsellor. What they didn’t account for was that her abandonment issues might kick in.’
She pierced the steak with her fork and held it for a moment.
‘And they did. Apparently, the moment she self-withdrew from a hefty meds programme without informing them, not only did she suffer major withdrawal but also reverted the complexity of her psychosis. Enhanced, it ran unchecked.’
She opened her lips and pushed the tender piece of steak into her mouth, groaning at the rich flavour.
‘Poor lady,’ Fliss offered.
‘Absolutely.’
‘Will they hold an enquiry?’
‘Without a doubt. But how many people with mental health issues fall through an overstretched net?’
As Domino abandoned her for the more likely treat from Mason, Jenna took another taste of her Prosecco, appreciation sending a soft groan through her lips.
‘It was one of the saddest moments I’ve witnessed. To stab yourself in the belief that it would exorcise another being living inside of you. She had no idea she was plunging the knife into her own body. It was Fern she believed she was killing. Fern was the calm, sweet voice of reason by all accounts. When Emily was medicated, Fern was strong. She had control. Emily respected her. In her mind, she was the younger sister.’
‘According to her counsellor, Wanda Stilgoe, who we managed to get a hold of today, once Fern lost that grip, Emily turned on her, the evil voice inside of her took over. All her problems, all her shortfalls, became Fern’s fault. A person to blame because she had never been to blame. Wanda told me nothing Emily had ever done had been her fault. It was the way she was brought up, the way she was treated by her mother, the fact that her father left them when she was still young, and her mother had a string of boyfriends. All of whom she was expected to call daddy.’
Jenna put her glass down and cut into her chicken as the tension seeped from her muscles. She gathered chicken and salad on her fork, and pushed it into her mouth, sending Mason a quick wink. ‘Delicious.’
He shot her a smile back as he chewed on his own mouthful of food and then picked up his glass to salute her.
Fliss’s forehead wrinkled. ‘Did the counsellor believe Emily wasn’t to blame? Had she encouraged Emily’s belief?’
Jenna huffed. ‘She still doesn’t believe Emily is to blame. She had a psychotic episode which wasn’t, in the counsellor’s opinion, her fault. She believes once she’s back on medication, she’ll become stable again.’
‘And how is Emily now?’
Mason slipped a slice of sausage into Domino’s mouth and gave the top of his head a quick scrub. ‘She’s still in intensive care. They operated.’ He inclined his head to Jenna. ‘As Jenna suspected from all the bubbly blood…’
Fliss turned pale and snapped her knife and fork down on the table as Domino deserted his food source in preference for Fliss the moment he sensed her discomfort.
Oblivious, Mason carried on. ‘The knife had gone straight through her left lung.’ He touched his stomach and then swivelled his hand upwards to indicate the direction of the blade. ‘She’s just lucky. With the direction she plunged the knife in, she almost stabbed herself in the heart.’
‘I suspect that was her intention.’
Mason nodded. ‘She’ll be intensive care until she no longer needs help to breathe.’
‘And then you arrest her?’
‘Yes. She has to be detained. She’s a danger. To herself and to others. The likelihood is she’ll be sectioned under the mental health act.’
‘She’s in the best place now.’
‘It could be weeks or months before she’s ready. It depends how badly she injured herself.’
‘But she’ll survive?’
‘Oh, yes.’
Adrian set his fork down on his plate as he picked up his beer. ‘You’re going to be busy for the next few months with the prosecution against Emily and Frank Bartwell’s case. Both major.’
Jenna nodded, well aware of the pressure she’d be under. She’d take it as it came.
Mason raised his head and talked around the mouthful of food. ‘Wasn’t it today Harvey was meant to start? Nobody’s mentioned him.’ He sent Domino a hard-eyed look, but the dog never met his stare, preferring instead to keep a close eye on Fliss’s steak.
Fliss’s face broke out in a smile with the change of subject and she picked up her cutlery again and started to eat. ‘There were more important things to talk about.’ But the smile stayed in place. ‘Harvey took Domino out for a couple of hours as a trial and sent photos and videos of their walk together. It appears they got along very well, and Harvey will be back the day after tomorrow. Then he starts regularly from next Monday.’
Adrian placed a hand on Jenna’s knee. ‘Didn’t you say you have tomorrow off?’
‘I do.’ She puffed out a breath and smiled. ‘I think I need it.’
‘I’ve managed to free up my day too, if you want to take that trip out to Llandudno, perhaps we could treat Domino to a day at the beach.’
She didn’t hesitate but leaned over and placed a quick kiss on his cheek. ‘That would be good. Really good.
Acknowledgments
Thanks go to Simi Epstein who paid a considerable amount to The Hope House charity to win the opportunity of having her son’s name used in The Ex. Zak Cheetham-Epstein, many happy returns for your 18th birthday on the 17th May 2021.
Thank you too to the lovely Harvey Hopkins who won the opportunity of a mention in my books. This is not the last we will see of him…
As usual my research far outstretches the actual amount I write into the story and often sends me down a rabbit hole of intrigue which may very well trigger the next story.
My thanks go to Al Wright for his paramedic advice and his dad, Peter Wright, for police matters.
Thank you to my husband, Andy Parkes, who I frequently nudge in the middle of the night as a thought occurs to me and I need to run the scene through and pick his brains for all things police procedural.
Despite all the advice, any errors are my own, possibly because I simply didn’t listen…
Malinsgate Police Station is real and a place I hav
e frequented often. I have, however, taken some liberties in the descriptions (though not too far off piste) for the benefit of my fictional characters and storylines. I hope I will be forgiven.
To my gorgeous girls, Laura and Meghan, both of whom cheer me on with every book.
Last, but never least, my heartfelt thanks go to my sister, Margaret, who has never flagged in her faith in my abilities. For all the reading and re-reading she does of my manuscripts and for her honesty, I will be forever grateful.
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Chapter One
Friday 26 October, 15:45 hrs
Felicity Morgan jammed her car into third gear and took the tight bend down the hill to Coalbrookdale with fierce relish.
‘It’s not right! It’s just not right. I’m twenty-four years old, for God’s sake, and still being told what to do!’ She pounded the palm of her hand on the steering wheel and whipped around another curve.
‘Not even told.’ She glanced in the mirror, her gaze clashing with Domino’s. ‘Nope, she didn’t even have the decency to speak to me.’ She floored the accelerator and snapped out a feral grin as the car skimmed over the humps in the narrow road.
‘She texted me. A freakin’ text!’ She shot Domino another quick glance and took her foot from the accelerator as the car flew under the disused railway bridge, past the entrance to Enginuity, one of the Ironbridge Gorge Museums.
Guilt nudged at her. ‘I know. I know, Domino. We’ve barely seen each other since I moved in because of her shifts and my workday, but for God’s sake. A text? Really? She must have been so peed off to send me a text. It’s her version of not talking to me. She’s done it all our lives.’ Fliss blew out a disgusted snort. ‘What the hell did you eat this time? Her bloody precious steak? One of her fluffy pink slippers? Hah!’
She appealed in the mirror to her silent companion. ‘She said, “Don’t forget to walk the dog.”’ She pressed her foot on the brake and came to a halt, sliding the gears into neutral as the traffic lights halfway down the hill changed to red. They always did for her. Every bloody time. With a rebellious kick on the accelerator, Fliss revved the engine.
‘She called you a dog, Domino. She couldn’t even be bothered to write your name.’ She stared at the big, gorgeous and demanding Dalmatian in her rear view mirror. Her lips kicked up as a smile softened her voice. ‘How could I possibly forget to walk you?’
An ancient Austin Allegro puttered through the narrow track towards her just as the traffic lights turned to green on her side.
‘Bloody typical.’
Domino raised his head to stare with aloof disdain at the passing Allegro and Fliss sighed as the driver’s wrinkled face, as ancient as the car, barely emerged above the steering wheel.
‘There was only once, a few weeks ago, I forgot to walk you. You’d have thought Jenna would have understood. I was hung-over from my break-up drinking bout. You, my darling, were suffering the consequences of a broken home.’ She let out a derisive snort as she put the car into first gear and glided through the lights, back in control of both her temper and her vehicle.
‘Not that you ever really liked Ed. You were just being empathetic. You sensed my…’ she drew in a long breath through her nose, ‘… devastation. You sympathised with me. How was I to know you’d eat your Aunty Jenna’s kitchen cupboard doors off while I was sleeping?’ They still bore the deep gouged teeth marks. ‘We didn’t have any choice but to move in with Jenna. We couldn’t stay with him. He was too mean. He wanted me to get rid of you. Said it was him or you.’
She flopped her head back on the headrest. Ed. The perfect gentleman, tender, gentle, an absolute charmer. To the outside world. Insidious, controlling arse to her. It had taken so long to realise his subtle intention to separate her from her mother, her sister, eventually Domino. The slick manoeuvres to keep her to himself. Unnoticed until her mother fell ill, when, in a flash, it all became clear.
‘Poor Domino.’ She glanced in her mirror to share the sympathy between herself and her dog as she slowed down to pass the stunning Edwardian building she worked in on her right. Coalbrookdale and Ironbridge School dated back more than two hundred years and had firmly entrenched roots at the centre of the Industrial Revolution. With the imposing cooling towers of the Ironbridge power station behind, they shared domination of the skyline from that angle.
She blew out a breath, making her over-long honey-blonde fringe flutter away from her eyes, just for it to land back again in the same place as she pulled the car to a virtual standstill to take a closer look at the school. Closed for the day, except the few lights in the left side of the building still burning for the after-school club.
A flutter of anxiety filled her chest. It hadn’t helped that she’d had such a dreadful day at school. The kids had run her ragged as she held on to her sanity with barely a thread of control left.
Who would have thought teaching would be so hard? Yes, she’d appreciated, before she started fresh from university a year gone September, that teachers worked long hours, but who knew children could be affected by the phase of the moon? Until year six teacher, Sarah Leighton, mentioned it to her at the end of their particularly fractious and demanding day.
Why did they have to have a full bloody supermoon in term time?
She cruised to the bottom of the hill.
Perhaps she should have taken a leaf out of Sarah’s book, gone home, poured a glass of wine and sulked in front of the fire until she was obliged to mark homework.
Instead, she’d been forced out of her own house by a text. Not that it was her house, and therein lay the problem.
‘I love her to bits. I really do, Domino, but I’m not sure we can live together. Six weeks is probably the limit.’
Fliss glanced in the mirror as she drew up to the mini-roundabout while Domino sat bolt upright in the boot, his proud head close to the rear window as he gazed out at the driver in the car behind. The woman smiled at him, just as everyone did when they caught sight of him, compelling them to give him the attention he was convinced he deserved.
Attention Jenna never gave him as she’d never forgiven him. Nor Fliss.
The constant reminders wore thin.
As her temper surged again, Fliss whipped the car around the pimple of the mini-roundabout and then indicated left into the Dale End car park parents used when they dropped their children off at school.
Despite her annoyance with her sister, she spared the school building another quick glance, the side view hindered by trees, but nonetheless stirring an affection in her. Steeped in history, it lent itself nicely to the quiet Victorian Town. She loved it, with its small community and less than two hundred pupils. Pupils who on a normal day were wonderful. They’d chosen not to be today.
‘We need to find our own place, Domino.’ His ears twitched, and he cast an unconcerned glance over his shoulder at her use of his name. ‘One closer to here, so I don’t have to travel twenty minutes to get to work. It means I could spend more time with you. If we lived on our own, I’d need to get home earlier because Jenna wouldn’t be there to see to you.’
She stopped the car in the middle of the car park to allow the elderly couple to cross over from the wrought-iron gates leading to the Victorian tearooms and smiled at them despite the mix of lingering annoyance and melancholy.
‘I hate living on my own.’ It made her nervous, for no particular reason. It just wasn’t right to live alone. She needed someone to protect her from her unreasonable fear of the dark and her own vivid imagination.
Flis
s’s irritation cranked up again at the whine in her own voice as she circled her car around the almost empty car park and swung it with careless abandon into a space. She cut the engine and flicked the seat belt undone. Before Ed she’d never had such reservations. She was strong. She was capable.
Her shoulders sagged. She hated to be alone.
She shook off the self-pity, flung open the driver’s door and slammed it behind her before she strode to the back of the vehicle. She wasn’t alone. Not entirely. She had Domino. He was company enough. Surely.
‘Wait!’ she commanded as she opened the boot. She sensed the dog’s urgency, his desperate desire to run free, but he’d do as he was told, she had no doubt.
She drew in a deep breath before she clipped the lead onto Domino’s harness. She pressed her lips to his forehead as she fondled one silken, floppy ear before she stepped back to allow him out.
Bright and alert, all bunched muscles and restrained excitement, he bounded from the boot of the car and stood to attention, quivering in anticipation while she glanced at the people in the tree-lined park.
She zipped her coat up to her chin against the chill wind and hunched her shoulders, determined to move and keep the cold out.
‘Which way shall we go, lad?’
Muted voices floated across, an open invitation for her to join the others in Dale End Park. She chewed the inside of her lip, undecided for a moment, before she turned from the company of the twilight walkers with their idle chit-chat which she normally relished. They wouldn’t miss her, their unofficial dog meet was transient. If you turned up, you mingled. If you didn’t, no one questioned it. A nice crowd, but she needed her privacy.
‘This way, Domino.’
If she allowed herself into their sympathetic fold, she’d be tempted to whine about Jenna, and if there was one thing she couldn’t stand, it was disloyalty. She huffed out a breath. Her anger with Jenna would pass. Until then, she’d keep to herself. Allow the solitude to blanket her.