by K. L. Slater
I’d been wasting my own life trying to plan his.
I cupped my hands around my eyes and pressed my face close to the kitchen window. The blind was up and the kitchen was tidy. I saw that Audrey still had the photograph pinned up of the two of us eating fish and chips on Padstow harbour, summer 2009. I felt a pang of regret.
With my warm breath smearing the glass, I looked around the rest of the kitchen to see if anything had changed since I’d last been there, but all seemed to be exactly the same.
Then something caught my eye on the shortest bit of worktop, by the kitchen sink.
My heartbeat lurched up into my throat and I pressed my forehead hard to the window, trying to convince myself that I must have made a mistake. I hadn’t. The blue and white striped scarf I was staring at was too distinctive to confuse with any other, and I realised in one breathless rush that ripped through my body that I had been an utter fool.
I had been blind and so stupid not to see how Audrey had been betraying me.
Forty
Ellis
Ellis was trying to concentrate on his game but stuff kept getting in the way.
His mum had been acting very strange. It might not seem that way to other people, but Ellis knew her. He knew how she usually behaved.
When she’d got back from her meeting at his school, her phone had rung, and she’d jumped up and taken the call in another room. Ellis was fairly sure she’d arranged to meet someone – possibly a man. He wasn’t sure what made him think that, maybe it was her pink cheeks and bright eyes when she came back in the room.
It had happened a couple of times before, too. She’d get a phone call and go out of the room to take it. Then, a short time afterwards, she’d casually mention that she had to go out somewhere and did he fancy going to his nan’s house for an hour or two?
Ellis loved being at his nan’s house, much preferred it to being at home most of the time. But things were now very different because the murderer had moved in. That was what he called Tom in his head because that’s exactly what he was.
The living room door opened and his mum came back in the room.
‘Hey, Ellis, I’ve got to pop out to pick up some bits. Fancy going to your nan’s for an hour or so?’
Ellis had taken out his earbuds and frowned. ‘Will the murderer be there?’
‘Maybe, but you can stay out of his way in your bedroom like you did last time, yeah?’
‘I thought you said school had told you I had to stop going over to Nan’s for a while,’ Ellis had said moodily.
‘We’ll have to see how it goes. She really wants to see you, and … well, it suits me for you to stay there sometimes.’
Ellis had narrowed his eyes. ‘Where are you going? Who was that on the phone?’
His mum had smiled and ruffled his hair. ‘So many questions! I’m popping out on an errand, that’s all. I won’t be long. Be a love and grab what you need. I’ll text your nan now.’
Ellis had huffed and puffed but he’d unfurled his lanky frame from the sofa and headed for the door.
Now, here he was at his nan’s house again, lying on the bed in his room. He got loads more time on his Nintendo than he was allowed at home.
But his mum’s behaviour still niggled at him. It wasn’t only the unusual phone calls that were strange. At home, the fridge freezer and cupboards were suddenly full of the kind of food they usually only had as treats – pizza, ice cream and chocolate, and Ellis’s favourite snack: big bags of corn chips with tubs of salsa and sour cream.
She’d been to the hairdresser’s instead of buying a box dye colour like usual, and she spent ages on the laptop. Although she didn’t realise, yesterday, Ellis had taken a peek at her search history when she went upstairs for a shower, and she’d been looking at houses … at the coast! If his nan knew she was planning on moving house and taking Ellis with her, she’d have a proper meltdown.
Ellis didn’t want to move to the seaside. Not the sort of place that rained a lot and had boarded-up shops, anyhow. But he wouldn’t say no to amusement arcades and skateboard parks. No one would know him there so he’d be able to act super cool, as if he was used to having loads of friends.
He liked the thought of being someone else.
Forty-One
Bridget
I put on my noise-cancelling headphones and lay on the sofa, trying to focus on my relaxation app, which was a guided walk by the river.
I visualised looking out over the rippling water the narrator described, watched a couple of swans glide by … It should have been a serene moment, but I made the mistake of opening one eye, and saw Ellis squaring up to Tom.
I whipped the headphones off. ‘What the hell is the matter now?’ I yelled, and the two of them looked at me in astonishment. As soon as Jill had left, Tom announced he had to go back to the gym to get the water cooler bottle he’d left there.
I didn’t think anything of it at the time, but I now knew he’d lied to me.
When he’d left the house and Coral had dropped Ellis off, I decided to put a load of washing in. I’d run up two flights of stairs and emptied out the contents of the linen basket in the en suite. I spotted Tom’s gym bag was at his side of the bed, so I went to get his gym towel to add to the laundry.
I’d pulled out the towel and froze, staring at the new water bottle he’d apparently gone back to collect from the gym.
Now, I felt hot and empty inside. I didn’t want to ask him outright what he was up to and alert him to the fact that I knew he’d lied. I had to be cleverer than that. For now, I was staying quiet and watching.
‘He’s trying to tell me what to do again,’ Ellis said sulkily, folding his arms. ‘He’s always trying to tell me what to do.’
‘He was playing that game when I left for the gym and he’s still playing it now.’ Tom folded his arms too. ‘It’s not good for him, Brid, and besides, he needs to clear some of this mess up.’
I cast an eye at the classy new coffee table I’d bought from Dwell about a month ago. The lacquered white surface was littered with empty cans of pop, congealing slices of pizza and Dorito chips. It was true Ellis should know better, but he was still a kid. With Tom around too, also apparently unable to pick up after himself, it was starting to feel like I had two kids.
‘You can’t jump on him every time he puts a foot wrong, Tom,’ I said.
I wasn’t stupid. I knew how much Ellis resented Tom, but I also understood it. Tom had robbed him of his father and also, Ellis was bound to be a bit jealous. It had been me and him for so long when he came over, and now we never had any time together without Tom’s presence.
I appreciated Tom’s efforts to play a role in Ellis’s life. He’d seemed so genuine on every level, but now I couldn’t think about anything else but the reason he’d lied to me. Where had he gone, if not back to the gym?
I glanced at my watch. Coral had said she’d be gone an hour, so she should have picked Ellis up way before now. I’d called her, texted her, but there had been no reply yet. I’d planned a relaxing evening with Tom, a few drinks to loosen him up before I tried to find out the truth of where he’d been. Coral was really pushing my buttons. One minute telling me I was affecting Ellis’s well-being and it was best if he stayed away from the house, the next, abandoning him here at short notice and with little explanation.
I decided I’d take Ellis home myself soon, and if she was out, I’d wait until she came home to confront her. It wasn’t her right to limit me seeing my grandson at the same time as acting so unreliably herself.
Tom and Ellis had another swipe at each other and I stood up, the headphones still clinging on around my neck.
‘I’m not listening to this any longer. I’m going into the bedroom to do my relaxation session, and I don’t want to hear a peep out of either of—’
The doorbell rang.
‘Are you expecting anyone?’ Tom bit his lip, probably worrying it might be his mother again.
‘No one I can think
of.’ I walked to the front door and looked through the peephole. Two official-looking women stood outside, one in her late twenties, one older, probably late thirties. I felt sick. What might this be about?
Behind me, Ellis ran over to the kitchen, where he had a good view of the front door when I opened it.
‘We’re here to speak to Bridget Wilson,’ the older woman said briskly.
‘I’m Bridget Wilson. What’s this about?’
‘Nottinghamshire Police. I’m Detective Inspector Irma Barrington.’ She held up ID. ‘This is my colleague, Detective Sergeant Tyra Barnes. We’ll need to come inside, if that’s OK.’ She glanced at the house next door.
I stood aside. ‘Come in.’
‘What’s this all about?’ Tom appeared in the hallway, his face pale.
‘It’s not about the bullying, is it?’ Ellis asked in a fearful voice. ‘I didn’t do that stuff they said at school, I—’
‘I think we can be fairly certain it’s not about bullying, Ellis,’ Tom reassured him. Sometimes he responded in such a caring way in the face of Ellis’s obvious resentment.
I led the officers into the living room. ‘This is my husband, Tom,’ I said. ‘And my grandson, Ellis.’
DI Barrington cleared her throat. ‘If it’s OK, I think it might be better if we speak to you and your husband alone. It might be a good idea for Ellis to sit in another room while we talk.’
Could this be about school after all? Maybe Ellis had hurt another child and not told us. Coral would relish the chance to pile more blame on me.
‘Can’t I stay, Nan?’ Ellis pleaded with me.
‘Bedroom, please, Ellis,’ Tom said firmly.
‘Fine!’ Ellis pushed by him, knocking his arm. ‘Don’t tell me what to do.’
The detectives glanced at each other as Ellis’s bedroom door slammed shut so hard, it was a miracle the hinges stayed intact.
‘Sorry,’ I said. ‘Kids, eh?’
They both sat down, refusing Tom’s offer of a drink. ‘Coral McKinty is your daughter-in-law, Ms Wilson, is that right?’ Barrington said, folding her hands neatly in her lap.
I frowned and looked at Tom, but he stared silently at the officers. ‘Sort of. My late son and Coral were never married, but we’re close and she’s Ellis’s mother. What’s happened?’
If Coral had made some kind of complaint about me, I swear I’d—
‘I’m so sorry to tell you that Coral’s body has been found on the outskirts of local woodland, in a ditch. She had a head injury, but at this point in time, I’m afraid we have no further information.’
‘Her body?’ I repeated faintly. ‘You mean …’
Barnes nodded. ‘I’m very sorry, I’m afraid she’s dead, Ms Wilson.’
Tom cursed and then cried out as he clenched the drink he held too hard and shards of glass fell to the floor. He rushed to the kitchen, clutching his bleeding hand.
I fell back against the seat cushion, my hand flat on my chest. I glanced at the door and dropped my voice, praying Ellis couldn’t hear anything. ‘How did it happen? I mean, has someone … Who did this?’
‘That’s what we’re currently trying to ascertain. We haven’t got the full picture yet, but we’re treating the incident as a possible hit and run.’
Tom re-joined us, a clean cloth wrapped around his injured hand. Both detectives turned to face him. He clasped his hands together in front of him to stop them from shaking, but it didn’t work.
He’d barely had anything to do with Coral. What on earth was he so afraid of?
‘We’ll need to ask you both some questions, if that’s OK,’ Barnes said, her eyes trained on Tom’s trembling hands. ‘Ms Wilson, when did you last see Coral?’
‘She dropped Ellis off a couple of hours ago. Hang on.’ I checked the call log on my phone. ‘She rang me at 15.52 and dropped him off about fifteen minutes after that.’
Barnes checked her watch. ‘And now it’s six thirty, so he’s been here a couple of hours, give or take.’
I nodded. ‘She didn’t say where she was going,’ I volunteered. ‘Just that she had a couple of things to do and she wouldn’t be long. About an hour, she said.’
‘I see. And what about you, Mr Billinghurst?’ Barrington turned to Tom. ‘When did you last see Coral?’
‘I … I had to pop back to the gym so I was out when she dropped Ellis off earlier,’ he said. ‘Let me think.’ The room fell silent. Then, ‘Sorry, my mind’s gone blank.’
‘It must’ve been the dinner party on Friday,’ I said, and he nodded, relieved.
‘Yes, of course. I saw her Friday evening.’
Barnes checked her notebook. ‘You were discharged from Nottingham prison nearly two weeks ago, Mr Billinghurst, is that right?’
‘Yes.’ Tom’s voice sounded defensive. ‘What’s that got to do with anything?’
‘Just confirming our details, sir. You don’t mind answering our questions, I take it?’
‘Actually, I feel a bit shaky,’ Tom said. ‘I think I still have some glass in this cut. Is there any way we can do this tomorrow?’
‘Sure, no problem,’ DI Barrington said easily, standing up. ‘It would be great if you both came to the station. Shall we say tomorrow at ten?’
Forty-Two
Ellis
‘I’m really sorry about your mum, Ellis,’ Tom said when the detectives had gone and his nan had told him the news that made him want to die himself.
‘Leave me alone … I hate you!’ Ellis cried. He picked up his nan’s empty coffee cup and threw it. It smashed against the wall and shattered around Tom’s feet.
‘Ellis, don’t!’ His nan dashed over and threw her arms around him. ‘I know it’s unfair, I know it’s a terrible, terrible thing that’s happened, but it isn’t Tom’s fault, love.’ She pressed him close to her and he began to sob uncontrollably.
Tom took a step towards them both, but Ellis felt her gently shake her head and he backed off.
Ellis tried to pull himself together. He was nine years old now, he had to man up, as he was always telling the younger kids at school when they couldn’t take the name-calling. But this was his mum … his beautiful, kind mum. She was gone forever and the pain was everywhere inside him. He was full of it, and there was no escape. It was as if his blood had turned to burning oil, the hurt seeping into every millimetre of his body.
‘I can’t bear to see you both like this.’ Tom threw his arms in the air and then clutched his head with both hands. ‘I want to hold you, look after you.’
Ellis decided, if Tom came anywhere near him, he’d kick him in the nuts. Tom was good at pretending he cared, but underneath, he probably hated him. Ellis had heard the way he’d spoken to his mum that day, and he wouldn’t forget it.
He pulled away from Bridget and headed for his room.
‘Ellis?’ she called after him.
‘Leave me alone.’ He stumbled through his bedroom door and slammed it behind him.
Tom was always there in the house and the creepiest thing was that he often watched Ellis slyly. It usually happened when Tom thought he was engrossed in his game. He’d stare at him and Ellis thought it might be because he reminded him of Jesse.
What if Tom was secretly thinking he’d like to kill him too? What if he crept into his bedroom when his nan was sleeping and slit his throat? Then he’d be dead like his mum and dad.
Ellis had heard people talk about feeling empty inside. Adults said it a lot, both in real life and on TV. He’d even heard his nan tell his mum a few years ago – when they thought he wasn’t listening – that before he was born, she’d felt like she wanted to die because there was nothing left to live for. It had been after his dad had been murdered by Tom.
Now she was married to him. The man who had once made her want to die.
It seemed to Ellis that adults often felt a certain way one day and a completely different way the next. Kids felt the same every day. He did, anyway. His body felt sort of tight and sore,
and if anyone spoke to him or looked at him the wrong way, his chest surged like it was on fire. He wished everyone would leave him alone to lose himself in his games. They were so straightforward. They were always the same, no matter what day it was.
After the police officers’ visit, he understood what it really felt like to be empty inside. He curled up on his bed and wrapped his arms around his body. It felt like he was hovering on the ceiling and watching himself. He didn’t cry or feel angry. He didn’t want to talk to his nan … he simply felt nothing at all. It was if something had sucked out all his insides.
His dad had died even before he was born, and now his mum was gone too. And nobody would tell him anything about it. Nobody seemed to know what had happened.
The worst thing was, when his mum had said goodbye to him a few hours ago, he’d barely answered her. He’d just wanted to get in the house and start his game.
He twisted and turned on the bed. It felt like pieces of him were breaking off, shrivelling and turning to dust. As though soon there might be nothing left of him at all.
‘It’s not that I’m keeping anything from you,’ his nan had said when the police officers left the house. She’d come into his bedroom and shut the door quietly behind her. ‘We don’t know anything yet, we don’t know exactly what happened. It looks like your mum might have been walking on the road and got knocked over.’
‘Has someone said they hit her? Were they looking at their phone?’
His nan gripped his hand and kissed it, but she didn’t meet his eyes and that scared him. And then he’d realised the obvious.
‘They think someone might’ve killed her and not stopped? A hit and run?’