The Adulterer's Daughter: A Novel

by Sam Anthony

  Serena smiled and bit her tongue. She didn’t want to hurt her friend’s feelings.

  But Ollie needed reassurance. “Is it because you’re still traumatised about nearly being raped and murdered by your stepson? I could imagine that would have a deleterious effect on your libido.”

  “No, it’s not that. There’s nothing wrong with my libido. To be honest, I’m glad you suggested we stop seeing each other. If you hadn’t, I would have ended it myself. Ollie, the most wonderful thing has happened: I’m pregnant.”

  “No! Really? Congratulations! That’s wonderful news.”

  He hugged her spontaneously, and she hugged him back. But only briefly.

  “Thanks, Ollie. I knew you’d be happy for me.”

  Serena watched the expression change on her ex-lover’s face.

  “Erm … who is … am I … is it ...?” Ollie pointed at himself.

  “Relax, you can’t be the father. You had the snip after Barney was born, remember?”

  “Ah.”

  “Ah? What does that mean?”

  “I might have lied about my vasectomy.”

  “What?”

  “I’m sorry. I just assumed, after trying for so long, that you couldn’t get pregnant.”

  “You arsehole.” She punched him affectionately on her arm.

  “So, is it possible that I’m … you know?”

  Serena shrugged. “To be honest, I don’t know. And I don’t want to know. Eric and I are going to devote ourselves to being the best parents of all time. And that’s all that matters.”

  “When are you going to announce it?”

  “Not yet. Now doesn’t feel like the right time, what with Fiona and Mia and Nigel and everything. Maybe after Christmas.”

  Ollie smiled. “Well, let me know if you need a godfather.”

  They walked on together, Lord trailing sadly behind.

  Chapter 82

  Saturday 20 December, 2003

  Mandy’s cottage, 11:15 a.m.

  Mandy was cosy and warm in bed when the banging began. At first, she ignored it, hoping it would stop, but when it persisted, rising in volume, she reluctantly got up, slipped on a dressing gown and padded downstairs.

  It was Steve.

  “Oh, God! What do you want?”

  “I had to see you. Can I come in?”

  “No, go away, I’m busy.” She began to close the door.

  “But I need to talk to someone,” Steve whined. “No one understands me the way you do.”

  “Not now. Piss off before someone sees you.”

  “But, Mandy, we don’t need to hide our love anymore. Now we can be a proper couple. You can move in with me. We can be together all the time.”

  Mandy’s jaw dropped. “Oh my God, you’re delusional. I don’t want us to be together. What a ridiculous notion. I’m nineteen, you’re forty-eight …”

  “Actually, I’m forty-five.”

  “Whatever, dude. This has been fun and everything, but I’ve got plans. I want to see the world. I want to live my life to the full. I certainly don’t want to be tied down to a forty-five-year-old electrician with a daughter who’s nearly my age.”

  Steve was aghast. “But I thought you were in love with me.”

  “In love? Look at me.”

  Steve looked.

  “I’m gorgeous. Everyone says so. Now, look at yourself.”

  Steve looked. He saw his paunch, his ageing hands, his bowed legs.

  “How could I be in love with you?” She laughed and shook her head.

  “But … I did it for you.”

  “Did what?”

  “Everything.”

  “What do you mean?” Mandy gasped. “Steve, … did you … did you kill Fiona?”

  “Of course I killed her.”

  “Fucking hell! I thought it was an accident.”

  “It was an accident. A horrific accident. But it was my fault. I criticised her. I betrayed her. I led her up the hill to the quarry on a foggy night. I might as well have pushed her off the edge myself.”

  “But you didn’t, though, right?”

  “What?”

  “Push her off the edge.”

  “Not physically, no, but it feels as if I did. The police seem to think I pushed her. Mandy, I … I think they’re going to charge me with her murder.”

  Mandy shook her head disdainfully. “I honestly couldn’t give less of a shit.”

  Just then a tousled naked man appeared behind Mandy and put a proprietary hand on her hip. “Are you coming back to bed or what?” he said before yawning.

  “Just a sec, babe.”

  Steve gawped. “Who’s he?”

  “This is my boyfriend.”

  “Your boyfriend! But what about us?”

  “There is no us. Now, run along, old man, and leave us in peace. We’ve got some serious shagging to do.”

  Mandy slammed the door, and Steve could hear kissing and laughing behind it as he trudged away.

  Chapter 83

  Sunday 21 December, 2003

  Fairfax house, 10:47 a.m.

  “Walkies!” sang Ollie. “Come here, boy, so I can put your lead on.”

  “I’ll pass, thanks,” woofed Lord disconsolately from his basket. “I’m fine right here licking my testicles.”

  Ollie attempted another tack. “Come on, buddy. Biscuit!”

  “I’m not hungry.”

  In the end, Ollie resorted to striding the ten feet to the basket, attaching the lead, and dragging the reluctant Saluki from his bed.

  Five minutes later Ollie, Mia, Barney and Lord set off to walk through the village to the McDougal house.

  ◆◆◆

  As soon as they entered the McDougal’s garden and closed the gate, Lord slumped to the ground on the spot, allowing Ollie, Mia and Barney to walk on without him. He put his head on his paws and closed his eyes.

  “Come here, Lord,” Mia called. “There’s someone we’d like to introduce you to.”

  At first, Lord lay motionless and disinterested, but he pricked up his ears when the frenzied yapping began.

  “It’s a dog, it’s a dog, it’s another dog. Look, Serena, look! There’s another dog in our garden. Do you think he’ll play with me?”

  “Put him down, babe,” said Eric. “Let’s see how they get on.”

  Serena lowered herself to the ground, and the cute canine galloped over to Lord on unsteady legs; his little bottom wiggling from side to side for all it was worth.

  “Hello, sir. I’m Johnno. I’m an Australian Stumpy Tail Cattle dog. What’s your name? Do you want to be my friend?”

  Lord chuckled. “All right, dear boy. Calm down, calm down. It’s really nice to ……... meet you.”

  “Why the big pause?”

  “They help me run faster, my boy.”

  Johnno charged around the garden like an excited puppy which, of course, he was. “Big paws! That’s brilliant. You’re so clever.”

  “You just wait, young fellow. I have so much to teach you. My name is Lord Bounce-A-Lot, but my friends just call me Lord. And you and I are going to be very good friends indeed. We’ll be spending a lot of time together from now on. I’m going to tell you all about an old chum of mine. He sniffed nearly a thousand bottoms in his time, and he died a hero.”

  “Nearly a thousand! I’m only up to seven. Can I do yours?”

  “Help yourself, my boy.” Lord surreptitiously lowered his rear end a few inches so the little dog could reach. “Done?”

  “Done.”

  “Good. Now, come with me; I’ll show you some excellent places to pee.”

  The dogs ran off up the garden, barking and bouncing happily, and Mia said, “He looks so much like Stumpy.”

  “I know. They’re related. Second cousins twice removed, isn’t it, Eric?”

  “That’s right. We got him from the same breeder who sold Stumpy to us all those years ago. He can never replace Stumpy, of course, but this way, a part of him will live on in our lives.�
��

  Mia smiled. “It’s so good to see Lord with a spring in his step again.”

  Chapter 84

  Sunday 21 December, 2003

  O’Connor kitchen, 5:07 p.m.

  Steve was alone in the kitchen, crying and drinking, when the phone rang.

  “Mr O’Connor, it’s … ahem … Sergeant from the police station.”

  “Pardon?”

  “It’s Sergeant Sergeant. I just rang to let you know that my superiors have determined that we now have enough evidence to convict you of first-degree murder,” he bluffed. “Which, of course, comes with a mandatory life sentence. Your best bet now will be to confess and tell us what really happened that night. Perhaps we can avoid all the hassle and publicity of a trial. I’m sure you don’t want to put poor Ava through the shame of watching her father being tried for murder. All the sordid details of your affair will come out. It will be humiliating for both of you. It’s in everyone’s best interests if we can come to an arrangement.”

  “I don’t understand. What sort of arrangement?” Steve slurred.

  “Maybe you can convince us that you didn’t take Mrs O’Connor up the hill with the intention of killing her. Maybe she attacked you when you told her about your infidelity, and you were merely defending yourself when she fell. That sounds more like manslaughter to me. If you admit to manslaughter, you could be out in two years.”

  “But I didn’t kill Fiona, it was an accident. How many times do I have to repeat myself?”

  “We’re well past that, I’m afraid. Your only option now is to confess, and beg for the mercy of the court.”

  “My only option …”

  “Why don’t you sleep on it, Mr O’Connor? And in the morning, when you’ve realised that there’s no hope, pop down to the police station and admit your crime. Do the right thing for Ava.”

  Steve swallowed. “What if I don’t?”

  “Then we’ll come and arrest you in the afternoon.”

  Chapter 85

  Monday 22 December, 2003

  The school, 12:20 p.m.

  “And that’s how you find the nth term of a quadratic sequence. Simple. Any questions?” said Mr Whitworth.

  Thirty-three pupils put up their hand. Everyone except Ava.

  Mr Whitworth sighed. “Okay, 11XP, let’s go through it again from the top. First, you …”

  There was a timid knock on the door, and a mop of brown hair peeked into the room.

  “What is it, Andersson?”

  “Is Ava O’Connor in here?”

  “Yes, why?”

  “The headteacher wants to see her.”

  “Can’t it wait till after the lesson?”

  “She said ‘now’, sir.”

  “Very well. Ava.” He gestured with his thumb to the door.

  “Should I take my stuff, sir?”

  “Should she take her stuff, Andersson?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “I don’t know, sir.”

  “I don’t know, sir.”

  “Yes, take your stuff, Ava. You can finish the exercise for homework.”

  ◆◆◆

  Ava sat outside the headteacher’s office and worried. She was kept waiting far longer than was strictly necessary – an intimidatory tactic used by torturers, interrogators and members of the teaching profession the world over.

  Finally, she was summoned into the hallowed room where every pupil fears to tread.

  The headteacher had her serious face on. “Sit down, Ava. Now, I know you’ve been under a lot of pressure lately, what with your mum’s … accident, and your dad being investigated for ... his involvement in it, but that doesn’t excuse what you’ve been doing.” She paused and waited until the silence became unbearable.

  “What have I been doing?” Ava enquired in a small voice.

  The interrogator glanced down at the documents spread all over her desk. “I don’t know where to start.” Selecting a piece of paper at random, she said, “Hugh Carmichael has just been admitted to a unit for young people with acute mental health conditions.”

  “Oh, no. That’s awful. But what’s it got to do with me?”

  “It seems he’s been self-harming and has developed anerexia nervosa because you’ve been telling everyone he’s gay.”

  “But … that’s not true … I didn’t tell anyone.”

  “That’s not what I’m hearing. What else?” She picked up another sheaf of papers. “Ah, yes; the mysterious incident of the gas taps in the chemistry lab. Witnesses spotted an attractive red-haired girl fleeing from the scene. Wasn’t that shortly before you decided to cut your hair short and dye it that ridiculous shade of silver?”

  “Yes, but I had nothing to do with it. I didn’t even have chemistry that day.”

  “Well, just this morning I’ve had three pupils come forward who insist it was you.”

  “Who?”

  “I’m not telling you that.”

  “Why would they only come forward this morning? The gas tap incident was weeks ago.”

  “I don’t know. Perhaps they’d had enough of being threatened and intimidated by your cronies.”

  “What cronies?”

  “The people in your gang.”

  “What gang? I don’t have a gang. I don’t even have any friends. Not anymore.”

  “You might as well quit the innocent act. There’s plenty of evidence of your appalling behaviour.”

  “What evidence?”

  “This.” The headteacher selected a bulging folder and thumped it down on the desk. “Items stolen from the girls’ changing rooms were found in your locker, along with packets of cigarettes and an assortment of illegal drugs. Plus all these disgusting price lists for sexual acts. There was a whole stack of them in there.”

  “I’ve never seen any of those things in my life.”

  “Then how do you explain their presence in your locker?”

  “It’s obvious. Someone else must have put them there.”

  “Into your locker? How?”

  “I lost my key last week. Or it was stolen. I don’t know.”

  “How convenient.” The headteacher conveyed disbelief with her bushy eyebrows. “Who would want to steal your locker key?”

  Ava blinked. “I can’t prove it, but I know it was Jemima Fairfax.”

  “Nonsense. All the information I have points to you being behind all the unpleasantness that’s been going on at the school lately.”

  “It wasn’t me, I swear. It was Jemima. It was all Jemima.”

  “Then how do you account for all the evidence against you? All the victims who’ve come forward to identify you and your gang as their tormentors?”

  “I keep telling you, I haven’t got a gang. I haven’t even got any friends since Jemima turned them all against me.”

  “What about these, then?” The headteacher scattered dozens of photographs on the desk. “These are all the topless photos you’ve been putting into boys’ lockers? Why would you do that?”

  Ava picked one up and recognised it immediately. She blushed scarlet. “Oh, shit! This wasn’t me either.”

  “It certainly looks like you. Are you telling me that isn’t your freckly face? It’s quite distinctive.”

  “Okay, it is me, but I didn’t put photos in anyone’s locker.”

  “Who did, then?”

  Ava sighed. “I thought I was giving that photo to Drew Daniels after he texted me, but I now realise it was Jemima the whole time. She must have made duplicates and distributed them to embarrass me.”

  “Why would she do that?”

  “Because she’s an evil bitch. Haven’t you figured that out by now?”

  “Ava, there’s no need for that kind of language.”

  “Of course there is. Everyone in the school, including you, is going to think I’m a drug dealer, a bully, a vandal and a fucking slag. That cunt Jemima Fairfax has framed me for all the shit she was getting up to.” Ava stood up and tore the photo she was holding into pie
ces, throwing a handful of fragments at the headteacher like it was confetti. “How can I ever live this down?”

  “Sit down, Ava,” was the eerily calm response.

  “Fuck you!” she spat.

  “Ava O’Connor, I am suspending you from school indefinitely, pending a thorough investigation into the incidents we have discussed today, and I’m afraid I’m going to have to pass these documents on to the police. And all these drugs.” Although I might keep one or two back to help get me through the next Ofsted inspection, she added in her head.

  Ava burst into tears and ran from the room.

  Chapter 86

  Monday 22 December, 2003

  O’Connor house, 1:45 p.m.

  Ava knew something was wrong the moment she entered the house. It was too quiet.

  She’d been worrying about her father for ages: the drinking, the erratic behaviour, the obsession with recycling, the mood swings, the adultery, and finally his wife’s death. He’d been in a downward spiral for months. And now this: her fall from grace. This would break him.

  She searched the house for signs of life.

  He wasn’t downstairs.

  He wasn’t upstairs either.

  But his car was outside and his coat was hanging up in the hallway, so he must be at home somewhere.

  In the distance, she could hear faint sirens approaching, but she ignored them.

  With fear in her heart, Ava crept down to the basement. She threaded her way through the piles of old junk to the mysterious door at the end.

  It was ajar.

  A light push was all it took to cause the door to swing wide open and reveal the image that would change her life forever.

  There was Steven Patrick O’Connor – her father – hanging from a rope attached to a wooden beam, the noose tight around his neck. Steve’s bulging eyes stared at nothing, and his swollen purple tongue protruded from his mouth.

  There could be no doubt about his intention. The empty whiskey bottle, the scattered pills on the floor, the bloody wrists sliced to ribbons, and finally the noose. They all told the story of a man determined to end his own life.