by Lily Hayden
Tim felt his blood run cold with panic. In all the years he had worked for MG Bank, his boss had never gone through his assistant. Nothing was ever that urgent.
“Did he, uh, say what this is about?” It took all Tim’s willpower to try to recover his composure, but when he looked up at Marie, he saw a flicker of sympathy in her eyes.
The Personal Assistants knew everything that was going on in the office before it happened, he knew that. He wondered if the workplace grapevine had been working overtime, or if she had worked out that something had been going on with Emma.
Marie swallowed nervously, but she shook her head. “Sorry, Tim. He didn’t say.”
“Ok,” he rose to his feet resignedly. “Hold my meetings this afternoon please.”
*****
The journey home was horrendous. The packed, delayed train was stiflingly hot, and Tim’s head was throbbing from the events of the day. All he wanted to do was to get home to clear his head, but that would mean having to act natural in front of Eleanor, and how could he do that with everything going on in his mind.
Emma had gone to his boss and told him they’d been having an affair. He still couldn’t believe that she’d actually done it. Fortunately, he’d managed to downplay it, and while he knew that there’d be repercussions for his indiscretion, there would need to be more evidence of wrongdoing to sack him outright. He knew that if it got out, it would scupper any realistic shot at a promotion, but if he managed to ride it out as a one-off blunder then he might be ok.
In a way, he thought as he squeezed through sweaty passengers as the train pulled into his station, if it was going to come out at all, then today was perfect. It had thrown doubt on Emma’s motivations for her to choose the day her site closures were officially announced. If anything, she should have been briefing and preparing her staff for the next part of the process, not deciding that now was the perfect moment to reveal that she’d slept with her boss. It just made her look vengeful, which had actually stood him in good light.
As he approached his home, he braced himself. He didn’t seriously think for a minute that she would have somehow got hold of Eleanor as well as his boss. For a start, Emma had no idea of where they lived or her telephone number, she didn’t know what his wife did for a living and Eleanor wasn’t active on social media at all. But even so, he still felt a pang of worry as he approached the front door.
When this is all over, he promised himself, I’ll make amends with Eleanor. I’ll make more of an effort in the relationship and make sure this doesn’t happen again.
He slipped his key into the lock calling out to announce his arrival as he pushed the door open. There was a shuffle from the kitchen, and his wife appeared in the doorway.
“Tim,” she said calmly, but the stony expression on her face belied her quiet tone. “There are some police here to see you.”
His chest constricted tightly, and he ceased slipping his feet from his shoes, instantly rooted to the spot. A uniformed officer appeared at her shoulder, and Tim hurried to recover his composure for now the third time in a day.
“Is everything alright?” He managed to find his voice.
“We’re here on behalf of our colleagues at the Gloucestershire Police Force. We have a few questions in relation to your father’s death,” the officer replied. “Would you mind accompanying us to the station?”
Tim looked from the officer to Eleanor, frantically trying to read how serious this was. All prior conversations had been him voluntarily ‘popping’ into the station or over the phone. The fact that they were here, at his house, waiting for him to get home from work was a bad sign.
Emma, his mind was yelling. It must be something Emma has said for them to be here.
Eleanor held his gaze for a moment, and he flinched at the hardness in her eyes. Through his panic at the investigation, he realised with startling clarity that she knew.
It’s over, he thought even as he nodded dumbly to the police officer. It’s over.
Belle
“Mum!”
Toby’s roar from Stephanie’s front garden jolted Belle out of her daydream. She had been sat at the kitchen table writing a list of everything she would need for Toby’s new school and the new house. She dropped her pen with a clatter onto the table, already on her feet at the sound of her son’s call. He and Harley had been playing in the quiet cul-de-sac with some of the neighbouring children, but Belle had insisted on leaving the front door open, unused to her son playing out of her eyeline.
Worried that he had hurt himself, she rushed to the doorway, but her heart leapt into her mouth at the sight of the uniformed police officers at the front gate. On her friend’s advice, she had called the police about Linda’s confrontation, and they had advised they would make a note of it. They had told her that they would be in touch with some more questions, but there had been no urgency in the young officer’s tone. She had been expecting a phone call, knowing that Will had received one, but somehow them turning up at the house felt horribly serious.
“Hi,” she hoped that the panic that she was feeling wasn’t evident on her face. “Is everything ok?”
They were the same officers that had picked her up the day Frank’s body had been found, but that had been different. They hadn’t turned up unannounced. They had proactively offered to collect her when she’d explained that she could walk to the station, but she might be some time. It had felt friendly and accommodating then; the kindly local constabulary supporting the bereaved family.
She scanned their faces for some sign of whether she should be worried, and her stomach knotted with apprehension when the younger of the officers refused to meet her eyes.
“There have been some developments,” the older woman stated. “Are you able to accompany us down to the station to answer some more questions?”
“Developments?” She looked between the officers nervously. “What do you mean?”
The woman’s face remained impassive, but Belle didn’t miss the way she shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “It would really be better if we go over it at the station.”
Her chest tightened in fear at the frankness of her tone. “I’m just waiting for my friend to get back. Can I come down later?”
She caught the involuntary grimace of the younger officer from the corner of her eye.
“We really do need to see you now,” the woman replied calmly before turning her attention to Toby who had darted to Belle’s side. “Is there someone to watch your son?”
Belle felt her blood turn to ice as she looked down at the frightened eyes of her son. She reached for his hand to squeeze it in what she hoped was a reassuring gesture. She was about to tell the police officers that she was watching Toby and Harley, and that she’d have to make her own way down when Stephanie’s car came into view pulling to a stop outside the house.
“Hey!” She could see her friend was masking the alarm she felt with a bright smile. “All ok?”
“I just need to go and answer some more questions,” Belle met her friend’s eyes, silently imploring her to remain calm for Toby’s sake. “Is Toby ok to stay with you?”
“Yeah, of course,” Stephanie moved past the officers to stand by her side, and Belle felt a flicker of gratitude through her fear at her friend’s presence. “I can drop you down if you like.”
“There’s no need for that,” the officer cut in quickly. “We can take you.”
There was something ominous in the urgency, and if Toby hadn’t been at her side, she would have felt brave enough to ask if she was being arrested. She met her friend’s eyes hoping to see some reassurance, but she looked as apprehensive as Belle felt.
“Right,” Belle bent to drop a kiss on Toby’s head, straightening up with more confidence than she felt. “Be good for Auntie Steph. I won’t be long.”
She couldn’t bear to look back at her son as she followed the police officers to the car, knowing that if she saw any fear in his little face it would be her und
oing. She buckled herself into the backseat, fighting back the growing waves of panic as she did.
There is no way they can arrest you, she reminded herself as she forced herself to concentrate on keeping her breathing regular. Her chest felt tight like there wasn’t enough air in her lungs, but she was terrified that the officers would hear her ragged breathing and see it as a sign of guilt.
At the station, she was led into the same room as she’d sat in previously. She had been through this all before, she reminded herself. She knew what to expect.
It’s going to be fine.
And then a serious-faced detective began the interrogation, repeating the same questions that she’d already answered until he suddenly changed tack.
“Whose idea was it to remove the security camera?”
The question caught her off guard, and she gaped at him open-mouthed.
“Huh?”
“The security camera that your brother Tim removed the day before the wedding,” the detective prompted.
“Oh,” she nodded temporarily relieved. “That. I asked if anything had come of that, but apparently Linda asked for it to be taken down. Something about it not working.” She looked at the detective guardedly. “It’s a shame as it would have proved that we weren’t there.”
“Linda said that it hadn’t worked for years,” the detective stated. “But there was no way that anyone who didn’t live at the house would know that. Hence her concerns that the removal indicates premeditation.”
“What?” She felt her heart quicken at the sharp turn in the interview. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Ms Lambe categorically denies that she asked for this to be removed,” his words made her blood run cold. “Your brother has confessed to removing the camera.”
“What’s that got to do with me?” She asked with more bravado than she felt. “Why would Tim even do that? I’ve already had to speak to the police about Linda threatening me on the High Street yesterday. Maybe she’s the one who should be in here.”
“At the moment,” the detective replied with deliberate exasperation. “It appears to be her word against his over who sanctioned the removal.”
Relief inflated beneath her panic, but then he spoke again.
“What we do have though is an independent witness who saw a female matching your description drive into Bluebell Farm Friday night.”
“I haven’t got a car for a start,” Belle’s words were defiant, but her body tensed defensively.
“You have a full driving license,” the detective responded confidently. “And access to a car.”
“Well, whoever it was,” she replied. “It wasn’t me.”
“Ms Hudson,” the detective leaned forward on the table between them with a steely glint in his eyes that unnerved her more than his interrogation. “We have someone who is willing to testify that they saw you. We also have a strong case for premeditation in that you told your brother to remove the security camera. We’re well aware of the tensions between yourself and your father over not only the will, but over your dislike of his wife-to-be. We can do this the easy way, and you can let us know what actually happened, your side of the story and all. Or we can do this the hard way.”
Her heart skidded to a stop in her chest in horror.
“I didn’t go to my dad’s house,” she managed to choke out the words.
“You won’t object to being recorded to be ruled out in a video identification parade then.”
Rose
The weather had turned a little in the last week. A prematurely warm May that had teased of a great June ahead had given way to dull grey skies, and as she drove through the village a light smattering of rain coated her windscreen. She turned into the country lanes, following winding, quiet roads aimlessly. She slowed as she approached Bluebell Farm and although she hadn’t been planning to go there, she turned off the road pulling the car to a stop at the top of the access lane.
She wasn’t brave enough to go onto the property, but she sat and stared at it for a while; a wave of sadness sweeping over her that, regardless of the outcome, the house would go to a new family. She wondered what her mother would have made of it all. Tears pricked at Rose’s eyes at the realisation that Frank’s death had slashed the final anchor to their childhood. Will had called her here, and even in her own state she couldn’t ignore his heartfelt plea, but when it was over and all this mess ironed out, she imagined that the other three would vanish from her life as if the past few months had never happened. She imagined her mother’s disappointment as tears misted her view of the farm.
Families were meant to be like trees, with branches growing in different directions but roots remaining as one.
The last few months she’d started to feel like that was true; the invisible connection to one another showing for the first time in years as they all came back together with shared goals; checking in on their father and then helping Belle. Rose hadn’t realised how badly she’d needed to feel that link until now, nor how badly she wanted to hold onto it. She wiped the tears roughly from her face with the back of her hand and forced herself to start the car. She had come here for a reason, and with a heavy heart she turned the car in the direction of The Red Lion where her sister was waiting for her.
Her blood had turned to ice when she’d finally returned Will’s call. She hadn’t expected this. Not Belle. She had barely been able to speak to her brother as he relayed the news with panicked urgency.
“I’m on my way,” she had replied feeling the emotions of the past week finally break free from where she had locked them away, piling distraction after distraction on top of them to keep them submerged.
And then she had ended the call, and a strangled cry had burst from her lips, a horrifying half-yelp, half-howl like a trapped animal in the final throes of death. But then she had felt strangely calm.
She knew what she had to do to put an end to this awful mess, and with a renewed sense of purpose, she had tidied up her dishes from that morning, disposed of anything in the fridge that wouldn’t keep, and using her last twenty pounds to fill up the car, she had set off for Hampton Dale with nothing more than her handbag and the clothes on her back. She had one destination in mind, but first she needed to speak to her siblings and explain. She owed them that much.
She spotted Belle straight away in the pub garden sheltered from the light rain beneath the canopy. Her copper-coloured hair hung long and loose around her shoulders, but even from across the car park, Rose could see the shadows of worry and exhaustion around her eyes.
“Where are the others?” Rose looked around unable to meet her sister’s eyes.
“Will has had to go to answer some more questions,” Belle puffed up her cheeks and exhaled heavily. She ran her hands through her hair close to the scalp, scrunching and knotting her hair with her fingers in frustration. “Oh, Rose, it’s such a mess. They think we did it.” Her voice rose desperately. “Did he tell you everything?”
Rose swallowed, and then unable to trust her voice she nodded.
“Tim thinks they’re going to try for premeditation. We haven’t been charged yet, which Tim says shows they’ve got no solid proof,” she continued. “But there’s some technical issue with the video identity parade apparently. They took Tim in for questioning in London yesterday, grilling him over his statement, over the money he offered Emma, over the camera, talking about perverting the course of justice. That’s why they’ve got Will back in. Trying to find inconsistencies in his story. They think we were all in on it. He says they’re just trying to scare us. Well, it’s working, Rose. I’m fucking terrified.”
Rose flinched at the violence in her sister’s words. “Oh, Belle, I…”
She tried to speak, but the words were thick, and they stuck at the back of her throat choking her. She tried again.
“Belle, it’s ok,” she said. “I’m going to put this right. I’m so sorry for putting you through this.”
Belle’s lips had already parted
to start speaking again, but Rose’s words silenced her, and her wide, green eyes narrowed.
“Rose.” The softness of her name on her sister’s lips belied the confusion in Belle’s eyes, and then like a switch had been flicked, Rose saw the realisation hit her sister.
Countless times she had wondered how she would feel when the game was up, but not once had she even dared to imagine the utter relief that rushed through her. Her blood that had flowed sluggish and heavy like tar through her body for the past week poured warm and fast through her veins like her heart was finally beating again. The guilt had felt like drowning; spiralling, swirling, lungs burning, unable to see which way was up in the darkness.
“I did it,” she said wanting there to be absolutely no doubt. And then the world felt calm, like she was floating.
It’s over. It’s over. The words echoed in Rose’s head as she sank down onto a bench, suddenly exhausted not just from the guilt, or the deceit or pretence, but from the never-ending battle to just keep going.
I’ll go to prison, her throat suddenly felt itchy and dry as she realised that she wouldn’t be able to get a drink there, and she turned towards the door to the pub wondering whether to have one for the road before she went to meet her fate.
Aside from her sudden desire for a drink, she felt fine. Relieved. Lighter. Glad that Belle, and Will, and even Tim would be off the hook. She knew even through the confusion and blankness of her mind during the past week that she would never have let it get this far if she’d thought that they would be implicated. Even Tim. She had just panicked; the utter horror at what had happened had paralysed her leaving her unable to make a decision. She thought that if the police had taken her in, like they had to the others then she would have crumbled and told them everything. But in some unbelievable twist of fate, they had never called her in for questioning.
She felt calm now, and she raised her head to meet her sister’s gaze resigned to see horror and disgust in her eyes.