He smiles, but it’s a fleeting expression, the kind that Ruth recognises is reserved as a preamble for breaking more bad news. She pinches the flesh on her legs.
‘Ruth, this could be so much worse for you. You’ve been through a hell of a lot but your innocence has been proven.’ He hesitates. ‘There’s something else you should know, though.’
Ruth snorts. ‘Something else? Now what? Nothing you tell me now will surprise me. Go on, try me.’
Mac is studying her face, and the smile has left his eyes. ‘The police have been asked to open an investigation into the death of Madeleine Peterson.’
‘What?’
‘Now that Dominic is dead there’s some things we may never know, but Courtney will need to be part of the investigation.’
The tartan wallpaper takes on a kaleidoscopic appearance as Mac’s voice dwindles then grows.
‘Ruth? Ruth? Are you okay?’
Dominic had tried to kill her. And Bella. He had been so close to succeeding, until fate intervened. Her eyes refocus. Mac looks anxious.
‘This is all too much,’ says Ruth. ‘I’m feeling a bit hot and faint. Do you mind if we go for a walk?’
60
Ruth
They turn left outside the hotel and follow the signpost to the Promenade. The amusement arcade on the corner is empty, save for a woman who is smoking in a cash booth and a few men playing the slot machines. The sound of carousel music dissipates behind them as they continue along the front, past the boarded up charity shops, the bookies and the chip shop. Ruth pulls up the collar of her fleece as the wind whips round her ears. She should have worn a thicker jacket. As Mac digs his hands deeper into his pockets she links arms with him, warmed by the draught-proofing effect. She tries not to think about Madeleine Peterson but she can’t help it. How could Dominic be implicated in his wife’s death? Madeleine was known to have a genuine chronic illness. Was Mac suggesting that Dominic might have hastened it? If that was the case, what was his motive? Control? Financial gain? A complete lack of empathy?
They pick up their stride and Mac guides her in the direction of the Venetian pavilion. They walk past it and up to the iron rail that separates the Promenade from the beach. Part of her wants to suggest to Mac that they head back up north, to avoid this tangled web of hurt back home.
‘You see over there?’ says Mac pointing in the direction of the lighthouse. ‘Straven Caravan Park. Just before the promontory. Memories of sand in our ice creams, and playing dominoes in the caravan while the rain lashed the windows.’ He laughs. ‘Fancy a walk on the beach?’
Ruth nods and they follow the stone steps down on to the sand.
‘I feel much better now,’ she says, gripping his arm, ‘now that we’re outside. I was nervous of eavesdropping ears when we were in the hotel, but I don’t mind talking about the hearing when we’re out here. No one can hear us, not even the gulls.’
‘Only if you want to,’ says Mac. ‘There’s no hurry.’
‘No, I want to know exactly what went on in my absence.’ The tide has receded and she sidesteps a pile of rotting seaweed. ‘The social worker. The paediatrician. Niall Freeman. I want to know what they said.’
‘Well Brenda Madingley was convinced by your story initially, that Bella had a legitimate illness. Then she felt you had hoodwinked her by persuading her to close the safeguarding file. The same was true for the paediatric team. It seems that the hospital team were the ones who had suspicions about you. They got the police involved. But it was Bella that disclosed that her daddy was giving her pink Smarties and white tablets as a treat for being a good girl. Apparently she made quite a lot of helpful disclosures during her play therapy sessions.’
Ruth’s feet are submerged in the sand, which is as soft as muscavado sugar. She feels weighted down by these last revelations and it’s becoming more of an effort to lift her feet. ‘Shall we walk nearer the water’s edge?’ she asks, tugging on Mac’s sleeve. ‘Only I feel like I’m sinking.’
They change direction and move towards the water which breaks into lacy cuffs of foam. The wet sand is firmer and it’s much easier to walk over its velour surface.
‘The one person who had your back,’ Mac continues, ‘was Niall Freeman.’
Ruth clings onto Mac’s arm.
‘He dismissed all the allegations as unsubstantiated. He described you as a conscientious doctor. A perfectionist. Hard-working. Always willing to go the extra mile for your patients.’
‘What else did he say about me?’ Ruth shudders at the lack of privacy probably afforded to her by the court.
‘It was all positive, Ruth,’ says Mac, as if reading her mind.
‘All?’
‘There was some mention of your history of anxiety, apparently. But, you know, that is easy to put into context, given the nature of your job.’
Ruth brushes wisps of hair away from her face. She must learn to cast off this self-doubt. They get as far as the RNLI slipway and decide to turn round. They pass a family on their way back – a couple with a young girl and boy who are chasing a briny-haired dog in and out of the waves. Ruth walks on in silence, not sure how to broach the subject of Bella’s future. The parade of shops has come into view and she knows if she doesn’t speak up now it will be harder to address the issue when back at the hotel. She tenses her grip on Mac’s arm.
‘And what about Bella? Where is she now? Still in foster care? Where’s her Uncle? When will he take her to Australia?’ She’s desperate to know but isn’t she acknowledging the inevitability of Bella’s departure just by asking these questions?
Mac takes his hand out of his pocket and interlocks his fingers with Ruth’s. ‘Val suggested I take you to stay with her for a few days, so you’re not on your own. Varsha has said she will come out to see you and she’ll fill you in with all the updates. She will be able to tell you about Bella.’
‘But will I ever see Bella again?’ She can’t bear the thought of not being able to say good-bye.
‘Let’s talk to Varsha. Honestly, I don’t know, but I can’t see why not.’
‘And please take me back to my house. I’ll be fine on my own.’
Mac clears his throat. ‘There’s another reason why Val made that suggestion. You’d be keeping her company as well.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Mike has left.’
‘Sorry?’ says Ruth. She tries to unpick her thoughts. What is Mac trying to tell her?’
‘I’m not party to all the details,’ he says. ‘Val will explain. But I know you’d be doing her a massive favour if you went to stay with her.’
He lets go of her hand and they head up the stone steps to the Prom. Ruth feels dazed by all these disclosures.
‘Oh,’ says Mac, ‘I’ve just remembered the name of the person who gave you a good character reference.’
Ruth stops. ‘Who?’
‘Alan Tremayne.’
Seagulls circle high above Ruth’s head, their raucous cries distracting her train of thought. Alan Tremayne. His son Elliott. Elliott’s grandmother Margaret. She moistens the cracks in her lips, tasting the tang of salt which has been whipped up by the breeze.
Truth above all, Niall Freeman had said in her dream. He was right.
61
Ruth
‘When did he leave?’ asks Ruth.
Val stops checking the ‘use by’ dates of her fridge contents and looks at her. She seems to chew over her words. ‘Over a week ago.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘Don’t be. God knows, Mike and I have both made mistakes.’ She hesitates. ‘We need time. Space. Need to consider what comes next.’ She looks down at Ollie, who is lying on an activity mat on the floor. He’s mesmerised by a swirling disc, his chubby arms and legs mirroring its movement. ‘I’m supposed to be going back to work at the end of the month,’ s
he continues. Her features crumple. ‘Don’t know how I’m going to cope.’
Ruth moves towards her and gives her a hug. Ironic how their roles have been reversed. ‘It will all work out in the end,’ she mumbles into Val’s shoulder. She moves back. ‘You know, I still have so many questions,’ she says, switching the conversation to safer ground. ‘Varsha filled me in on the details of the hearing. She’s arranging for me to see Bella next week.’ She falters, rehearsing what she is going to say next. ‘But I don’t think I’ve got the full story. It worries me that you and Mike may be the missing bits in the jigsaw.’ She thinks back to that day on the towpath, when Val confessed to her affair with Dominic. Why has Mike walked out? Surely there must be something else going on? Unease grips her and she wants to understand why.
The shadows in the kitchen lengthen. Through the window the sun sinks in a contusion of pink, purple and orange. Val lifts Ollie up and places him in a travel cot, amongst a mountain of soft toys. His eyelids seem to be battling against gravity and he lies down and closes his eyes. Val flicks on the worktop light and draws a chair up to the breakfast bar.
‘I told you about my indiscretion with Dom,’ says Val.
‘Your affair?’ Ruth is not inclined to make this easy for her. Varsha’s meeting this afternoon has left her emboldened. Val looks flushed.
‘It was six years ago,’ adds Val, as if this somehow made it more acceptable. ‘I told Mike everything shortly after it ended. He forgave me. Or so it appeared. Seems he always held a grudge towards Dominic. He may have excused me but he didn’t forgive Dom.’
Ruth’s skin prickles. ‘Did he confront Dom about it?’
‘No. Dom never found out that Mike knew. In fact Dominic was so arrogant, that when Madeleine died he thought he could take advantage of Mike.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Prevail upon him for financial advice. He even tried to inveigle insider tips on share deals from him. Even though he knew that was illegal. I now know that Mike saw that as his opportunity for revenge.’
Ruth can’t help but notice the fine tremor in Val’s hands as she speaks. ‘What happened?’
‘By coincidence Mike ran into a former friend and colleague of them both soon after Madeleine’s funeral. They got talking and Mike discovered that his friend also had an axe to grind with Dominic.’
Ruth feels light-headed. She has an ominous feeling about the direction of this conversation.
‘Do you remember that evening way back in May when the four of us had a take-away at our house?’ asks Val
‘I think so.’ How could Ruth forget? It was the evening when Dom left without saying goodbye.
‘Mike and Dom had been to a meeting that day. It was carefully orchestrated by Mike. They met the mutual friend who took Dominic into his confidence and convinced Dom he could make a financial killing by investing in the Chinese telecoms business, Lucky Pagoda.’
‘Oh my God. Gary Sharp.’
‘Yes. What made you say him?’
Ruth thinks back to the evening when she went on the internet date in the Rose and Crown. Gary Sharp came to her rescue when she sprained her ankle. She had made Mike promise not to tell Dom he had seen her in the pub. So they had been scheming against Dom all along. She looks out the window. It’s dark outside now.
‘You know me. I have a good memory for names. He cropped up in conversation that evening.’
‘It transpires that Gary knew about Lucky Pagoda’s association with the Chinese State Tobacco Enterprise. He gave Dominic the wrong advice. On purpose.’
‘When did you find this out?’
‘Not until last week. Mike had been bottling things up but he hasn’t been behaving normally since the inquest. He was deeply affected by Dominic’s accident. But his emotions seemed disproportionate. Do you know what I mean?’
Ruth nods. His behaviour at the Coroner’s Court had seemed at odds with the stoical person she knew.
‘After the verdict I remember him constantly seeking reassurance from me that the Coroner had said it was an accident. It wasn’t like him at all. But now I know it was guilt. He felt partly responsible for what happened, the accident coming so soon after Dom lost his money. He confessed everything to me about ten days ago. We decided a trial separation was the best thing. He left nine days ago. Nine days. Eight nights. I’ve been so worried about him that I’ve spoken to him every day. I don’t want him to do anything stupid.’ Her eyes look teary. ‘Hell, I just didn’t see this coming.’
‘Tell me about it,’ says Ruth, immediately regretting her coldness.
Val looks up and offers a weak smile. ‘I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to be facetious.’
‘That’s okay. I’m sorry too.’ Ruth reaches her hand out over the worktop. A gesture of conciliation. ‘But you said Mike told you everything?’ she says after a protracted pause. ‘I still don’t understand how Gary Sharp fits into the picture.’
‘It transpires Gary’s girlfriend, Courtney, had a grievance against Dominic.’
Ruth’s gut twists at hearing this name. ‘Courtney? The same Courtney that posted the online abuse about me?’
‘Yes. I told you about the on-line posts, didn’t I? Did Mac fill you in on her association with Dom?’
‘He mentioned that Dominic had an affair with her while Madeleine was ill. He told me she’s currently helping the police with their enquiries.’ She wags her forefingers in the air, gesturing quotation marks.
‘You could say that. Shortly after the affair ended she took up with Gary Sharp. After hearing Courtney’s sob story about how she was treated by Dom, Gary was only too pleased to exact revenge on her behalf, as well as Mike’s.’
‘My God,’ says Ruth, pondering the significance of this latest revelation. ‘Mac didn’t mention Gary Sharp.’
‘I always knew Gary Sharp was trouble. Seems I was right,’ says Val.
‘You know Courtney had a double grievance against me, don’t you?’
‘A double grievance?’
Ruth gives a derisory snort. ‘Oh yes. Not only was I the other woman in this love triangle, but she also had a deep resentment of doctors.’
‘Why?’
‘Do you remember a few years ago we stopped prescribing Absorbix?’
Val looks blank.
‘Absorbix,’ continues Ruth, ‘the anti-reflux drug? It was banned because of its cardiac side-effects.’
‘And?’
‘Courtney Weaver’s sister Bridget had it prescribed legitimately for her nine-week-old baby. The baby suffered recurrent arrhythmias and was admitted to hospital twice after it stopped breathing.’
Val’s eyes widen. ‘Oh my God. Did it survive?’
‘Yes, but Bridget was falsely accused of inducing the attacks and had her baby taken into care. Niall Ferguson, my psychiatrist, was instrumental in proving Bridget’s innocence. He was able to prove that the baby’s symptoms were due to the side effects of Absorbix. It left Courtney with a deep distrust of doctors.’
‘A double whammy.’ Val shakes her head. ‘Incredible. Oh what a tangled web and all that. Let’s hope she gets her come-uppance now that the police are involved.’
They sit in silence, their heads bowed. Ruth wonders what to say next but it’s Val who speaks first.
‘At the risk of sounding disingenuous I owe you a huge apology, Ruth. I’ve been such a shit friend. I hope you’ll forgive me.’
Ruth bites her lip. ‘Of course I bloody forgive you.’ She smiles. ‘You were there when I needed you, weren’t you?’ She reaches over to Val’s hand and squeezes it. ‘Just remember I’m here for you too.’
There’s a stirring coming from the travel cot and a babbling noise. Ruth looks at the clock on the oven. ‘Shouldn’t Alice be back from her party by now?’
Val features soften. ‘Don’t look so worried. She’s hav
ing a sleep-over at Chloe Maitland’s house. I know her mother, Carla, from the mother and toddler group. She was only too happy to help.’
‘Well, in that case,’ says Ruth, her chair grating over the pine floorboards, ‘let me make supper while you put Ollie to bed.’
‘That would be great,’ says Val. Standing up, she opens the fridge and takes out a bottle of baby milk. ‘I’ll give him his bottle upstairs. I was going to do a stir-fry later. The ingredients are all here. Thank you.’ She taps on a green bottle in the fridge door. ‘And don’t forget this. Sauvignon Blanc. Pour yourself a glass.’ She fills a bowl with hot water and bobs the baby-bottle in it. Then she scoops Ollie up in her arms, waves the bottle out of its bowl and disappears.
Alone in the kitchen Ruth hangs her head, deep in thought. After Mac’s thorough commentary about Bella’s hearing, Val’s disclosures about Mike had not really surprised her. Saddened her? Yes. Disconcerted her? A little. But not astounded her. Will she look back on this unhappy chapter one day and be grateful that she’s had the chance to move on? She hopes so. At least Varsha had promised her a meeting with Bella next week to say goodbye.
She selects a wine glass from the kitchen cabinet and pours herself a drink. Better go easy. Just one glass. Anymore and Val might find her asleep at the table, their supper still in the fridge.
Above the sound of kitchen clatter there’s the bang of a door and muffled voices. Ruth strains to hear what’s being said but can only conclude that the conversation is measured and calm. It startles her then to see Mike stride into the room, and sweep up to her to deliver a kiss on her cheek.
They stand for a moment, before Mike ventures an awkward gambit. ‘Val will be down in a minute. I’ve been such a bloody fool, Ruth. I hope you’ll forgive me.’
62
Ruth
October 2005
The last time Ruth visited Windridge dragonflies hovered in columns of warm air, the park throbbed with day-trippers and Dominic had a migraine. There’s a hesitation in Ruth’s step today returning with such ambivalent memories, coupled with a nervous anticipation.
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