by Suzy K Quinn
‘Your mother is scared, Liberty,’ says Michael. ‘Scared of losing you. She has good reason. And I will tell you all about it. I promise. Later.’ He takes my hand. ‘You’ve got your real dad back now. And if you want to get into the rock and roll business, I’ll help you every step of the way.’ Michael cocks his head. ‘Hold up. I think I hear Diane.’
I sit up straight. ‘I hope my mother didn’t give her a hard time.’
Michael shakes his head. ‘Your mother has gone. Probably Diane was the one who got rid of her. One way or another. I know it sounds harsh, but if you knew what Lorna had put us through—’
‘Then you’d understand.’ Diane strides into the kitchen, boots clicking on the floor. She rests a hand on my shoulder. ‘Your mother has gone now, sweetheart. I … Look, the police took her. It had to come to that. She wouldn’t have gone otherwise.’
‘It’s okay.’ I feel my chest rise and fall. ‘I know what she’s like. I live with her. She wouldn’t have gone without a fight. She goes crazy if I’m home ten minutes late.’
Diane nods. ‘Now, listen, Michael. The guests are arriving.’
‘I know. Danny phoned.’
‘So.’ Diane tries for a smile. ‘Time to put Lorna behind us and enjoy this party.’ She nods and smiles, then bursts into tears.
‘Hey.’ Michael leaps up and hugs her. ‘Hey, it’s okay. She’s gone now.’
When Diane emerges from the hug, her kohl eyes and black mascara are smudged.
‘Sorry,’ she says. ‘It’s just got me all shaken up, you know? I’ve waited all these years to have it out with her. I thought I’d feel better but all I feel is upset. She’s so delusional. You can’t make a dent, you know? She believes her own rubbish. But she’s gone now. Look at me, getting all emotional.’
Michael looks deeply into her eyes. ‘What an old softy you are. I know, I know. It was tough, but it was a long time ago, sweetheart. And everything is looking up now.’
‘Is it?’ Diane’s eyes dart around. ‘Because there’s a can of worms here, Michael. That woman is back in our lives again. Stalking us. And all the chaos that comes with her—’
‘I won’t let that happen,’ says Michael. ‘The police know about her now. It’s fine. Okay? It’s all fine. They’ll handle everything.’
I shuffle in my seat. ‘The police didn’t arrest her, did they?’
Michael and Diane exchange glances.
‘I doubt it, love,’ says Diane. ‘Unless … well, unless she resisted them.’
‘Let’s change the subject again,’ says Michael. ‘I know how you love people doing that, Liberty.’ He raises a playful eyebrow. ‘Guess what, Diane? Liberty’s going to stay for the party.’
‘Great.’ Diane smiles at me, eyes soft. ‘I’m pleased.’ Then her eyes falter. ‘Oh, for goodness sake. Maybe I’m being too kind, but you’d better call your mother. Tell her you’re okay. Maybe she’ll feel better if she hears it from you.’
‘No way,’ I say. ‘She’ll think Michael’s brainwashed me. That’s what she always says about him. Stay away from that man, Liberty. He’ll mess with your head. You won’t know your own thoughts. He’ll warp your mind.’
‘I hate to put it this way,’ says Michael, ‘but Lorna’s mind was warped when I met her. She had so many problems. Her own mother was a piece of work. Wanted to go out galivanting rather than look after her kids. Then Lorna had cancer at such a young age. It would mess anyone up. I was like this Jesus figure to her. She thought I could turn water into wine. Make everything better. But I couldn’t.’
‘God.’ Diane shakes her head. ‘That woman. She’ll rot in hell for what she did to you, Michael.’
‘It’s in the past now, Diane,’ says Michael. ‘And Liberty will know the truth about her soon enough. Now then, guests are arriving soon and—’ He cocks his head to one side, listening. ‘Anyone hear what I hear?’
I listen too.
There’s a sort of swooshing, rattling noise overhead, and the bi-folding doors vibrate a little in their frames.
Diane is nodding. ‘Trouble.’
‘What’s that noise?’ I ask.
‘The devil in a pretty dress,’ says Diane, giving Michael a hard look. ‘Miss Catherine Cannon.’
Lorna
Most people would feel embarrassed being driven home in the back of a police car. But right now, I couldn’t care less. Who do I know around here anyway? Only Nick. My big sister is thousands of miles away. The only thought on my mind is getting back to Michael’s house, climbing those gates and pulling my daughter out of there.
In the end, the police had to handcuff me. I still tried to open the police car from inside, but it didn’t work – there were child locks.
We’re cruising past the village post office. Heads turn. It’s unusual to see a police car around here.
‘You think you’re on the side of truth and justice,’ I tell the police officers. ‘But you’re just a bunch of pawns being moved around by a chess player.’ I glare out of the window. ‘He’s got us all playing his game. Again.’
The police remain silent. I’m sure they’ve heard worse insults in their time.
‘My van.’ I sit upright. ‘I left my workshop van outside his property. You have to drive me back.’
The policewoman turns around. ‘You’d be trespassing, madam. The road to Mr Ray’s house is private property. We’ll have a police officer bring your van home. Just leave us the keys.’
‘That van belongs to me. You have to let me get it.’
The policewoman puts up a hand to stop her colleague replying. ‘If you’re not happy with us driving your van, send a friend for it. Maybe your partner? I’d recommend you staying away from Mr Ray’s house right now.’
‘Mr Ray is not his real name,’ I say. ‘It’s all fake. Everything about him is fake.’
‘I’d be careful if I were you,’ says the policewoman. ‘Mr Ray can file for a restraining order if you cause too much of a nuisance. You don’t want something like that on your record.’
My eyes squeeze together. ‘He saw me coming a mile off today. Of course he did. You’ve been primed. That’s what he’s done. He’s prepped you. Had you ready and waiting for me.’
‘Mr Ray didn’t contact us,’ says the policewoman. ‘His wife did.’
‘He put her up to it.’ I turn to the window again.
‘I think you need to go home and have a nice rest.’
I won’t rest until I get my daughter back.
The police car drives further down the village high street, past the small supermarket, past the playground. A woman chasing a toddler down the street turns as we passes. I recognize her; she’s a teaching assistant from Liberty’s old primary school. When she sees me in the police car, her mouth falls open. I raise my hand and wave. She stares like I’m a lunatic. But who cares? Like I say, it’s not as though I have a social life around here.
‘Do you have a friend who can pick up your van?’ asks the policewoman.
‘No,’ I say. ‘I don’t do friends anymore. You never know who has a Michael Reyji Ray album hidden in their collection. And you can’t ask to see people’s music library – you look like a weirdo.’
The policewoman glances at her colleague. ‘Where are you from originally, Miss Miller?’
‘San Francisco.’
‘I have a cousin near there,’ says the policewoman.
‘In California?’
‘New York.’
‘That’s about a thousand miles away from San Francisco, but okay.’ I stare out of the window again.
There’s a long pause, and then the policewoman says: ‘So … you’re from the States originally?’
‘Yes.’ My eyes fix on the little cottages lining our village high street.
‘What made you settle in the UK?’
‘Michael. He flew me here.’
‘You never wanted to go back home then? After you had your daughter?’
‘It … wasn’t convenient.’
‘Don’t you have family out there?’
‘A big sister.’
‘Do you get along?’
‘Of course we get along.’ I hope the police can’t see tears coming. ‘She’s the best sister anyone could ever ask for. She brought me up. She looked after me when I was sick.’
‘But you’ve chosen to live away from her. Here. In this country. Near Mr Ray.’
I hesitate. ‘It just worked out that way. Moving here. I knew the area.’
‘You haven’t seen Mr Ray since you’ve moved here?’
I look out of the window. ‘No.’
The car slides to a stop outside our house.
‘There’s a lot of security around your house, isn’t there?’ The policewoman opens my car door. ‘Big gates.’ Her eyes wander over our expansive fencing. ‘You know, this isn’t America. There’s no gun crime around here. Nobody needs security like this. Well, unless you’re a celebrity like Mr Ray. You might enjoy life more if you opened up your house to the street. Became part of the community.’
‘You haven’t got a clue.’
I walk away and fingerprint buzz myself through the tall wooden gate. Once the gate is slammed behind me, my body sags against the wood, jaw tight, fists clenched. The moment I hear the police car drive away, I let out a furious scream, punching the wooden gate over and over again.
‘Lorna.’ Nick jogs out of the house in his tight T-shirt, hair clipped and neat, face tight with worry. He sweeps me into his arms. ‘What happened?’
‘Liberty’s there. She’s at Michael’s house. The police drove me home.’
‘The police? What, they arrested you?’
‘Not exactly. But Michael has them in his pocket. I should have known. It’s just like before.’ I put knuckles to my mouth. ‘He has her, Nick. He has her.’
‘Hey. Hey, let’s keep things calm. Liberty … is she physically okay?’
‘I have no idea. They wouldn’t let me see her.’
‘But if the police … they know Liberty is with him, right? With her dad?’
‘I told them Liberty was there. But whether they believe me is a different story. I’m not even sure they believe Michael is Liberty’s father.’ I look at my bleeding knuckles. ‘He’s so clever, Nick.’
Nick steps back and puts steadying hands on my shoulders. ‘Come on, let’s just keep it calm. Liberty will be okay. You don’t know anything bad has happened to her—’
‘He’s warping her mind,’ I say. ‘That’s what he’s doing. Right now. Psychological abuse is worse than physical abuse. Did you ever hear that? It causes more damage.’
‘Liberty is a bright kid, Lorn. She has her head screwed on. Have faith in her. No one’s going to twist her mind. She loves you. You’re her mother.’
I flinch. ‘Nick, I need your car keys.’
‘Why?’
‘Because I’m going back to Michael’s house.’
‘I don’t think that’s a good idea, Lorna. If the police just drove you home … you’re going to get yourself arrested. Why don’t I go? Try and reason with the man?’
I laugh.
Nick looks offended. ‘I have three celebrity clients, Lorna. I know how to deal with ego.’
‘If you went to Michael’s house, you’d end up having a beer with him and a game of pool. You’d come out telling me what a good guy he is and how I’ve got it all wrong.’
‘Give me some credit,’ says Nick. ‘You’re my fiancée. I’m on your side. And I’m on Liberty’s side too.’
‘Really?’
‘Of course I am.’ Nick crosses his arms, fists automatically going to pump out his biceps. ‘Come on, Lorna. I’m big enough to overlook a bit of teenage anger. Of course I’m on her side. Poor kid must be confused as hell right now.’
‘I need your car keys.’
‘Come inside. I’ll make you a cup of tea—’
‘Caffeine is a stimulant. If you want to calm me down, offer me Jack Daniels.’
‘Just come inside—’
‘Nick, I’m not going to sit around drinking tea while my daughter is with a monster.’
‘So what are you going to do? Drive right back there and get yourself arrested? You’re not going to help Liberty from a prison cell. Let’s make some calls and find someone who can help us.’
‘Like who?’
‘I don’t know. A good solicitor.’
‘Michael would run rings around a solicitor. My sister. I need Dee. She was with me when it all happened. She knows the truth. She saved me. She knows about Annalise.’
‘Who’s Annalise?’
I can’t meet his eye.
‘Lorna?’
‘Annalise was Cat Cannon’s daughter,’ I say. ‘You’ve heard of Cat Cannon, right?’
‘Cat Cannon …’ Nick’s eyes shuffle through memory files until he finds the right one. ‘The heroin-addict singer with lipstick all over her face? Who fell on her backside on The Tonight Show?’
‘She’s clean now. From what I hear.’
‘I didn’t know she had a daughter.’
‘Yeah. She did.’
‘Wait a minute – Annalise … that’s Liberty’s middle name.’
‘Yes.’
‘So what happened to this girl? This Annalise person?’
‘Officially, nothing. She’s a missing person.’
‘And unofficially?’
‘Can we talk about something else, Nick? I’ve gone to too many dark places today. We need to call Dee.’
‘You’re sure you don’t want me to go to this man’s house?’ Nick asks. ‘See if I can get Libs to come home?’
‘No one should go to Michael’s house yet,’ I say. ‘You’re right, Nick. We’d just get arrested. This is a chess game, right? Michael’s good at chess. He’ll be expecting that move.’
‘So …’
I sigh. ‘We’ll do what you said. Drink tea. Stimulating tea. And work out a move he doesn’t expect.’
Liberty
Through glass doors, we watch a black helicopter tip and tilt over the huge lawn beyond Michael’s swimming pool.
‘The extravagance of it,’ says Diane, lips set in distaste. ‘Catherine Cannon always has to make an entrance. She can’t come through the gates like everyone else.’
‘She’s one of a kind,’ says Michael. ‘And I’d have it no other way.’
The helicopter settles, giving the kitchen doors one last rattle.
‘Listen, Liberty,’ says Michael. ‘You’re a smart girl. You know Cat was on the scene back when I knew Lorna, right?’
‘Um … well, yeah. You were on tour together, weren’t you?’
‘We were. And you also know that Lorna accused me of some awful things.’
‘Yes.’ I meet his eye. ‘So did Cat.’
‘Look, I know you’ll have questions.’ Michael’s dark eyes turn sad and pleading. ‘Cat’s been through hell and back, love. Please don’t ask her about the past. Not today. I’ll answer everything when the time is right, but this is Diane’s day too.’
We watch as a woman with messy blonde hair hops out of the helicopter. Cat looks so much smaller than I’d imagined her. In pictures, she’s full-on big hair, red lips and personality. In real life, she’s tiny.
‘Did she have her assistant flown in too this time?’ says Diane. ‘Or has she sacked the latest one like all the others?’
‘Give her a break,’ says Michael. ‘Sure, Cat gets through her assistants. But she’s a unique personality. Not everyone is going to fit. And she doesn’t need an assistant for a party.’
‘I think it’s criminal the way she disposes of staff at the drop of a hat,’ says Diane. ‘You’ve had the same driver and assistant for over twenty years, Michael. You’re good to them.’
‘Come on now, Diane. Cat’s good to her assistants too. She always gives them a big whack of settlement money.’
‘How kind of her,’ says Diane. ‘Mouth-shut money.’
We watch as Cat t
otters around the swimming pool, waving and laughing. She wears a black ballgown split at the front with bizarre ruffles at the neck, pearls and spike heels that are not getting on well with the grass.
‘Does Cat know about me?’ I ask.
‘No, love. We’ll keep you quiet today. No sense going there when Cat’s still so fragile.’ Michael puts his arms around mine and Diane’s shoulders. ‘Okay, girls. Come on, let’s move on from the bad stuff, okay?’
Cat is nearing the glass doors now, sticking a playful finger up at Michael, still laughing.
Michael waves back. ‘Listen, Liberty. When I tell you what happened the day you were born, everything changes. Right? Everything. A bomb goes off. I wouldn’t mind getting to know you before we light that fuse, okay?’ He goes to open the kitchen doors. ‘Ready to meet a rock and roll legend?’
‘More like a rock and roll mess,’ Diane mutters. Then she glances at me. ‘God, I hope these doors are soundproofed.’
Michael pulls open the bi-folding doors. ‘Cat Cannon,’ he shouts. ‘How was the chopper?’
Cat totters over slab paving, then throws herself into Michael’s arms. ‘Hey Micky Ray. It’s good to see you. Another year, another anniversary. And both of us still alive. The helicopter was great. Loved it. Felt like royalty. I’m still the only guest you do that for, right?’
‘You’re the only one,’ says Michael. ‘I know you too well, Cat. You can’t arrive without making an entrance. Can I get you something to drink?’
Cat extracts herself from the hug. ‘Got any green tea?’
‘Green tea?’ Michael laughs. ‘How times change.’
‘Buddha happened. Namaste.’ She puts her hands together and bows.
‘Diane, do we have any green tea?’ Michael asks.
‘I’ll take a look,’ says Diane stiffly.
‘HEY!’ Cat grabs Diane’s wrist and pulls her into an awkward hug. ‘Hello, hello, hello. DIANE. Sorry. Forgot you again, didn’t I? How are you doing?’
Diane manages a soft smile. ‘It’s okay. People always forget me when Michael’s around.’
Cat releases Diane, then notices me then. ‘Who’s this?’ She stares. ‘Jesus, you look … just like Michael.’