by Linda Taylor
‘Aunt? She couldn’t hurt a fly!’ I sat back aghast at such an idea.
‘No. But maybe, just maybe, he thought she had recognised him. The photo Louisa, remember, with her and that lad De Costa? Robson worked there as an unqualified nurse too and no one seemed to care or know. He was eventually thrown out. There’s a note about his dismissal. Maybe they finally got to check up on him. Talk about taking risks with people’s health and state of mind. He could have done countless harm to those vulnerable patients. I don’t like to think if he ever got to nurse Ma. The place was closed soon afterwards. What with the boy found dead and no one convinced of suicide and then the home taking on unchecked staff…’
‘Why was Robson there, though, even if pretending to be staff?’
‘The thinking is, he was keeping a check on the boy Jacques. Maybe somehow he funded the lad’s time in there. Did you get to see a photograph?’
‘No. Sorry Pete. It was all too ‘cloak and dagger ‘as it was. I’m waiting for him to call me. He’s given me this mobile phone. I don’t think the number is registered as he said it was unknown.’
‘Did he indeed!?’ Peter said with surprise in his voice.’ Well, who does he know then- either the police or the criminal fraternity, to get hold of one like that! Have you got a recent photo of him?’
‘What for? What are you up to now? This is the man I love, Peter, not some criminal!’
‘Sorry, old girl. But you can’t know that for sure, now can you? You admit he’s involved in something unwholesome to say the least…’
Just as he had finished speaking the new mobile phone began to throb.
‘It must be Daniel,’ I said, getting up from the table and moving into my sitting room, out of hearing.
It seemed we were all set for the act in the pub and it was for next day.
I arrived at the pub at 7pm and asked the bar maid to give me a lemon and lime in a large wine glass. She looked quizzically back at me but obliged.
I saw Daniel arrive and quickly turned around on the bar stool to caress my glass.
He coughed as he approached and it was then, as instructed, that I looked up at him. Robson was ahead of him and taking a seat at a small table. A tall blond girl, wearing a very short dress and red lipstick held Daniel’s arm and was indeed acting the part of lover very well. I must admit my heart was racing as I walked up to him, took one look at her and stopped in front of them. She looked at me and said, obviously well rehearsed,’ so what do YOU want?’ It was said aggressively and then she pulled his arm tighter, drawing him in to her closer, just as Daniel had told me she would. She was good. No doubt about that.
‘Louisa,’ Daniel said,’ you aren’t going to cause trouble are you?’ His voice was controlled but loud enough for all to hear.
I stepped forward and, imaging I was a character in some awful soap on television, enacted my part. I could never have hit him so I threw my half -filled wine glass of lemon and lime straight into his face.
‘Bastard!’ I said clearly but not too loud and out of character.’ You didn’t really think this was yours, did you?’ I patted at my belly, tied my belt across it and walked past him, deliberately brushing against his shoulder.
‘Get lost, loser!’ she called back at me as I left.
My hands were shaking as I dialled for a taxi to take me home.
I had acted my part and to my surprise I had done it rather well.
Chapter 15
I killed Robson. But I killed him three times. Once there was just blood oozing out from his head after I had dropped the candelabra at his feet. Next dream, I saw his head turn towards me as he was dying. His eyes glazed over and his hand fell towards me, beckoning for mercy. On the third killing there was more detail still; brains like twisted intestine were splattered beside his opened skull.
From where had such hatred entered my heart, my mind? They say we are all capable of murder, if the situation presents itself and we are thrown out of control. I now believed this. I had never killed anyone before. I had never witnessed such a thing, except in a movie perhaps. Was this where the scene I had set had originated? But the feeling, the desire to strike him so hard, the sheer relief at having murdered him; where did I resurrect that from? John might say a previous life, foetal rage, some such reason. I know I felt shattered and horrified on waking from my execution of him. It was hard to shake off the shock of what my inner-self, my subconscious was capable of.
A whole month had passed and I was due for a scan to see that the baby was growing okay. I had received calls each week and texts from Daniel but not seen him since the occasion at the pub.
Where could he be? What was happening now? These questions niggled at me. I had given up the temping job and signed back on to the dole queue. I had even more time on my hands to think and wonder and worry.
As I got on the bus to attend the hospital, I couldn’t help but think of how much my beloved Aunt would have loved to be with me at the scan. The joy she would have shown to see such a wonder. Nothing like it had been available in her time. Of course most expectant fathers were usually there with the pregnant woman, weren’t they? I hadn’t even told him about the scan. I would go alone. I would have to cope now with Aunt gone and maybe Daniel was going too in his own way. Maybe I had been a fool again. I couldn’t bring myself to ask Peter to witness the baby on screen; he who had not been able to have a child of his own. It seemed too much to ask of him, especially with two recent bereavements to handle. Bereavement can make you more aware than ever of your own mortality and give rise to thoughts about what or whom you have to leave behind you; questions about the purpose of your life.
Baby was fine and active and a good size for my time, nurse said.
I took the photo of this black and white throbbing, jelly-like mass inside me and felt relieved that all was well and yet saddened.
I placed it in a drawer for safety, or even to show Daniel, should he ever come back to me, here in my flat.
It turned very wet and I went out only for basics, like milk and bread. I sat at the window and watched the grey rods of rain falling.
I couldn’t cry. I didn’t want or need to cry. I was just lonely and wanting him beside me, if only for the warmth and scent of his masculine body. That would do for now.
That night I dreamt and I remembered the dream. I was walking through the pine forest, crunching the needles beneath my feet. As I approached the chalet, with some trepidation, I walked inside to the same room. I was floating this time and the light had gone. Someone had lit the candelabra. I could hear a woman humming that tune, ‘Frere Jacques.’ I had killed the other dream and now I was in the same setting but this time I was a witness. I felt my legs lightly swinging beneath me. I looked down to see what could be holding me up here. There was the carpet below me. I wondered, but without any fear, if I had indeed died now. Didn’t someone tell me you couldn’t, didn’t ever die in a dream? I couldn’t think who had told me such a thing.
A tall dark woman, pretty with sharp features, an aquiline nose, deep set eyes and high cheek bones, sat at the table. She had turned her face up to me and waited as if wanting me to look at her but she did not acknowledge my presence. Did this mean she couldn’t see me although I could see her?
It was she who hummed. She was studying a drawing of some kind. I wasn’t sure if she could see me or not but, as I hovered behind her, I boldly looked over her shoulder to see what engrossed her so. It was a map of some kind. I looked closer and as I looked, she disappeared and left me there. I sat myself down and yet I couldn’t feel the seat beneath me. I felt compelled to sit and study this map. It was of the grounds of some large estate with a tall house set amongst trees. In the distance, a lake was marked out. She had placed a penned cross beneath a tree to the left of the Palladian porch. There were road signs on the perimeter of the grounds but I could read only one of them. Marsden Place, 3.5 miles N.E.
I woke up to the sound of my door buzzer. I looked at the clock. It was 9.
30am already. The dream had left me feeling calm but confused. I got up and went to look through my peep hole. Robson was on the other side of my door.
I shivered. I would not open it. Daniel had said not to open it, not to let him in, ever. Then I heard a familiar voice behind him. Peter! I suddenly remembered, he had promised to take me to the pictures, to get me ‘out of myself’ as he put it.
‘Can I help you there? Did you mean this bell, Sir?’ I heard him enquire in his loud military voice.
What should I do?
What on earth should I do now?
‘Louisa, it’s me!’ I heard Peter call out. He never addressed me as such, it was always that nickname Lulabell.
My hand trembling, I unlocked the door.
I looked straight at Peter, who had moved to stand in front of my other visitor.
‘I don’t think you know this gentleman, do you my darling?’ he said, with surprise in his voice. Then he grabbed me and kissed me like he had never done before.
As he let me go, squeezing me tightly, I soon realised what was meant.
‘Oh, yes, Mr Robinson isn’t it…’ I began, sounding as vague as I could, my eyes only for Peter.
‘Robson. Louisa. You must remember me. I came to ask if…’
‘Petey, sweetheart, come on in! I missed you last night. It was a cold night.’ I leant up against my cousin suggestively and puckered my lips for another big kiss. He willingly obliged.
Peter laughed and turned,’ Robertson, old boy. If you know what’s good for you, best leave. We have unfinished business here, eh, my naughty girl!’
I laughed and it came out just as I had hoped it would. It sounded guttural, teasing and blatantly obvious as to its source. But it was really the description ‘naughty girl’, which had inspired me. This was so unlike him. Such play acting!
Robson persisted. ‘So you haven’t seen Daniel, I take it,’ he said, turning to leave.
‘Daniel?’ I laughed dismissively,’ Daniel who?’
With Peter willing me on, I grabbed him and we both backed into the flat. As we closed the door on Robson, and heard his footstep down the stairway, together we let out heavy sighs.
‘Thank God for you! You recognised him then!’
‘He was being followed, Lou, never fear. They are on to him alright. You’re safe enough with me and I’m stopping over, young lady. Just to convince him further. Get that kettle on, we have a long day and night ahead of us. Lots to catch up on. You wouldn’t believe…’
Chapter 16
It was good to have a man about the flat and I felt even safer with Peter. I still felt love for Daniel but didn’t feel totally sure of him. Aunt was gone for ever and even the feelings of calm and security she had given me, were now tainted with doubt due to the photos and what they seemed to imply. Had she been complicit in something underhand out of a sense of love and duty for my uncle? Had she indeed been the real target in the coach, the driver to be sacrificed in order to silence her? Or a victim of poisoning through the hotel kitchen food? I desperately needed some answers but none so far had been forthcoming.
As if reading my thoughts, Peter sat me down and began to explain a few things to me.
‘Lulabell, are you okay? This must all seem a daze to you and in your condition’, he grinned that familiar grin.
‘I’m not ill Pete, or should I say Petey!? Do you think we pulled it off?’
‘Well, we tried and we must have looked fairly spontaneous. They could soon find out we are cousins… but hey, kissing cousins! Makes you seem naughtier than ever!’
‘Why was he looking for Daniel though? I’m going to text him right now…’
‘Wait a bit, kissing cousin, until I have told you my news.’ We sat down on the settee, our bodies in line, bent forward, anxious to share any knowledge we had gleaned.
‘Unfortunately, although inevitably, my source thinks that security may be on to him. He says files that he can usually, albeit not officially, access, have been locked. So I cannot get much more that way. But I have sourced the newspaper archives and I have printed out a photo of the Count and even one of his late wife. I still can’t find anything on the missing, younger brother.’
‘Jacques’, I added.
‘Yes, Jacques. He was found hung and it has been recorded as ‘‘death by misadventure’’, whatever that is supposed to mean.’
He showed me a black and white, rather grainy photograph of Daniel’s father. My heart leapt at sight of it. They were so very alike.
‘Does Marsden Place mean anything to you, ring any bells from articles or documents you have seen or been told about?’
‘No.’ he replied confidently,’ why, should it?’
‘I’m not sure. No matter. Leave it for now. Let me text Daniel and let him know that Robson has called and that you are staying with me.’
I sat tapping away a message but when I tried to send it failed. I tried three times but it failed every time. Then I rang his mobile number and that wasn’t recognised either. Panic fluttered in my chest.
‘What does this mean then, Pete? God, I have no contact now at all.’
‘You’ve plenty of credit on it, the battery is okay?’
‘Yes, yes. Maybe he wants it this way. Maybe he doesn’t want me anymore.’
Peter put his arm around me to reassure me. I could feel hot tears welling up in my eyes.
‘Don’t go making assumptions, now. He could have lost it, dropped it. Decided it was too dangerous to use any more. There are plenty of reasons why it doesn’t work.’
I decided to have a hot bath to relax and Peter read the newspaper and played on my laptop. I don’t think I was very good company but he quietened down in tune with my mood.
The next morning, he went out early and I decided I would just walk to the nearby supermarket and get us a good ready meal to share the following evening.
I had passed one or two aisles of food at most, when I felt a gentle hand under my elbow.
‘Could you come this way, Miss?’
I turned to see two uniformed security staff at my elbow.
‘What on earth for?’ I asked angrily.’
‘Could you just come quietly to the office, Miss? We don’t want a scene, now do we?’
‘No, I won’t! What for?’ my voice rose to almost a screech in my defence. Hadn’t I had enough to contend with lately, without shop- lifting nonsense?
‘You will come to the office please, Miss, or we will have no alternative but to summon the police. Now you don’t want that do you, any more than we do?’ His voice was louder now too.
I realised I had no choice and so reluctantly let him lead me to the office door at the back of the store. I could feel beady shopper’s eyes on me as I was led away. I turned around and said,’ I haven’t taken anything! This is a mistake. I’ve only just come into the store!’
Then he pushed me and shuffled me on, quicker for this outburst, and I was soon bundled into the office and the door closed and locked behind me.
There was a man sitting behind the desk, dressed in a smart suit, and one sitting in front of him with his back to me.
The two security men had left on locking the door.
‘Why is the door locked? There’s no need for that I’m quite sure and I have rights…’
Then the figure with his back to me turned around and spoke in the most wonderful voice possible to my ears,’ I knew she wouldn’t come quietly!’
It was Daniel. He held out his open arms.
My head was spinning, my heart pounded in excitement at sight of him. I rushed into his arms. The man behind the desk had got up and motioned to the other side of the room. We kissed and held each other tightly.
‘The phone Daniel, it doesn’t…’
‘Hush now, Louisa. Sit yourself down here.’
He sat me in his seat and the other man rejoined us.
‘Miss Fisher. I am sorry about the little play acting just then. But we had to get you in here and make it lo
ok official rather than anything else. Let me introduce myself. I am, shall we say, a fairly high ranking official for a Specialist Crime Detective Squad,’ he flashed a card at me that I managed to read as Special Detective Officer Tate, and it had an official stamp with police force and county, although I didn’t read that part clearly. But it seemed genuine enough to me. Although how many of us would know? Daniel held my hand in his and squeezed it tightly. I looked up at him and he just nodded confirmation. All my trust had returned as quickly as the officer had shown me his credentials.
‘But what is going on?’ I asked of Tate.
‘Daniel here, has been very anxious for your protection. We saw that Robson called at your flat and we saw he soon left. Well done there. You are no stranger to play acting, so Daniel tells me’ he grinned up at Daniel and they exchanged a look of confidence.’ The blond lady in the pub, by the way, is one of our officers. She has a lot of experience in undercover work. She reckons we ought to recruit you! But,’ he looked down at my open jacket and swollen belly’ perhaps not at this time!’ He smiled and I felt myself blush but I liked him and he had already inspired trust in me.
‘Our van saw you lock your door and the shopping bag, so we took a chance you would head here and dived into the back office. We know from the tills you use this one regularly. Mr Byers has often helped us out, here in the supermarket. We’ve been keeping a close watch on your premises for some time.
Daniel has been a great help to us but I’ll let him explain how that all started when he gets the chance. We have used him to uncover some very shady financial practices and some very clever drug trafficking. I cannot go into too much detail but we need to know what happened with the character Robson and we need to look through your Aunt’s flat. Now I don’t want to go through official channels with a search warrant. I’d prefer your assistance. It will all be done discreetly, I assure you.’
‘Are you suggesting my Aunt was a, a criminal? No way! She was the sweetest soul that ever lived, Mr Tate. There is nothing in the flat. She had nothing, due to my uncle. As to Robson, my cousin Peter arrived in time and…’