Walking Alone

by Carolyn McCrae

  “What exactly did he say?” Matt repeated his voice was cold and threatening.

  “He just talked about August and Rebecca. He seemed to think it was something I should know and I should do something about. He said if I didn’t know I should ask my daughter. ‘Holly should know’ he said.”

  “What did he say exactly?”

  “ If you don’t know you should, Holly should know. Why haven’t you been told? Yes, that was it, exactly.”

  Matt realised far more clearly than his wife what Graham had meant. He hadn’t meant, as Mary thought she had understood, that Holly knew something and hadn’t told Mary. He had meant that both Mary and Holly had a right to know something that neither had been told.

  Matt knew exactly what he was threatening to tell them. And what he had to do about it.

  Mary changed the subject. “The lawn mower’s broken, the weathers so nice I’d like to get going on the garden again.” She had persevered with the push mower she had found in the garden shed when they had moved in nearly three years earlier. She had been proud of the stripes on the lawn. ‘English lawns must have stripes’ she had said with deliberation. “We need a new one.”

  “OK OK I’ll go get one of those orange things, you know, the electric ones that just fly over the grass cutting it with no effort required.” And Mary agreed, even though she wondered if the lawn would lose its stripes. “Well if you can’t cut it there won’t be any stripes anyway.” And he returned after lunch with a large box and persevered through a frustrating afternoon putting it together.

  The next morning was the first lovely day of Spring, the sun was shining and because there was warmth in it for the first time for months the kitchen door and windows were wide open.

  Holly had been reading about the Watergate Scandal in the newspaper that was spread out on the kitchen table.

  “Coffee dad?”

  He was standing at the window watching his wife walk up and down the lawn. She had started at the bottom of the garden, so that he could see that the cable was long enough, and she was gradually working her way back towards the house.

  Just as he had suggested.

  Holly leant past him to fill the kettle and she glanced out of the window and saw her mother who seemed to be concentrating hard on the straightness of the lines she was creating in the lawn.

  “No prior knowledge! I don’t believe a word of it.” Her father didn’t answer or make any comment, though she would have expected him to. He had always liked Richard Nixon.

  As Holly watched the kettle boil, getting three mugs down from the hooks and carefully measuring out the instant coffee and the sugar, she realised that to an outsider this was a ‘normal’ family scene; the image of domestic contentment.

  Anyone watching would not have seen the tensions that lay just under the surface. She resolved that when, if, she could get alone with Graham she would ask him just what it was he thought he was doing. What was all this about Rebecca, who was she, and what was so important about August?

  As the noise of the boiling kettle died away she realised that the only sound she could hear was the radio.

  ‘When you walk, through a storm, hold your head up high…’.

  For a few moments she thought her Mother must have stopped to come in for her coffee, she expected to see her any moment in the doorway, but as she turned she caught sight through the open door of a figure lying on the ground, the new mower on its side.

  Her father had not moved from his place by the window.

  Holly knew he must have seen what had happened. He must have seen the cable and how close Mary was to running the new lawnmower over it.

  He must have watched but he had not cried any warning.

  He still did not move as Holly phoned 999.

  As the ambulance-men took the body away they reassured Holly her that her mother would have known nothing. She would have died instantly.

  It was a ghastly, tragic, accident.

  The police arrived and took statements and made measurements, carefully noting everything down. But there had been nothing suspicious about this death. There had to be an inquest, they said, but the result was a foregone conclusion. She was unfamiliar with using an electric mower, there was no safety cut off in place, she had had no idea of the danger. She had simply pushed the mower onto the cable and electrocuted herself.

  There was no reason to doubt it had been a completely unavoidable accident.

  But Holly believed she knew better.

  She saw that he had not tried to stop her mother. He had not warned her or tried to save her.

  She believed that she had done exactly what he planned for her to do.

  Chapter Thirteen

  We read about the accident in the newspaper.

  I wanted to contact Holly, ask her what we could do to help. So I called Linda.

  “There is something actually. It’s not directly to do with Holly but it would get us out of a problem.”

  “Whatever we can do to help.”

  “Holly’s grandparents are coming to England to, what do they call it, ‘repatriate’ their daughter’s remains. It sounds gruesome but they want her to be buried in Canada.”

  “I can understand that.”

  “Well they’re coming over in a couple of days and will need somewhere to stay. We can’t put them up and it seems miserable for them to be in some hotel or other. Could you? Would Max mind? Mum’s spoken to them on the phone and they seem very nice.”

  “I’m sure that will be fine. Anything else? Shall I pick them up from the airport? Won’t they want to see Holly? Her father?”

  “They’ve said they want to see Holly but not, and they were very definite about it, ‘absolutely not that awful man’.”

  Two days later I picked Holly up from her house and drove her to Speke Airport to meet her grandparents. I was pleased to see Mrs O’Dwyer give Holly a reassuring hug as we met in the arrivals hall. Mr O’Dwyer’s handshake was firm and I liked him immediately.

  “And who are you son? Holly’s young man?”

  “Just a friend. I hope a good one.” I replied, rewarded by Holly’s smile. “If there’s anything you need or I can do while you’re here you must just ask.”

  “Sure will son.” Mr O’Dwyer spoke quietly, seeming to protect his wife from any questions. “It is good to know our grand-daughter’s got a friend, they’re much more important than having a ‘young man’ don’t you think?”

  I felt the O’Dwyers, for all the sadness of the occasion, were going to be very pleasant houseguests.

  Ted was dealing with the legal aspects of the repatriation and so there were six of us at dinner that evening. As I watched Holly and Monika in the same room together, I realised how much I had asked of Max in welcoming her into our home.

  Seeing Monika and Holly together it was easy to see they were family. It was only because I had overheard Max’s conversation with Matt at my birthday barbecue that I knew the connection. But for someone who did not know, would they see any resemblance between them?

  After dinner Max repaired to his study with Ted and Mr O’Dwyer ‘business that need not distress you ladies’ he explained to his wife and granddaughter. I was designated to look after Holly and her grandmother. Monika, as was her habit, retired immediately after clearing away dinner.

  I had very little entertaining to do as the conversation did not falter. Bridget, as she insisted we both call her, asked Holly to tell her everything about her life and everything she could say about her Mother. “I need to learn everything about her life in such a short time.”

  Holly spoke self-consciously at first, perhaps aware that I was in the room, but soon she was speaking freely about her mother’s love of gardening, her enjoyment of English television, her belief in the importance of computers, her passion for her work.

  She seemed to know so much about her mother’s life.

  Eventually Holly asked the question that she had obviously been wanting to ask since she knew h
er grandparents were coming over to this country. “Why did we never have any contact? Why didn’t Mum take me to see you? Why didn’t you visit?”

  Bridget began carefully “I have to say we didn’t give Mary a happy childhood. Michael was always working, he started from nothing when we arrived in Canada, that was during the depression. It was a very hard life and we had nothing. We both worked every hour there was and it meant we neglected Mary.”

  She paused as if regretting what she was going to have to say. “We wish we could change what has been, of course we do, but at the time even survival was difficult. We were so very proud of our Mary, she always did well at school, she was so bright, so clever and we had such hopes that she would come into the family business. But we had neglected her, as she grew up we found we didn’t know her at all. When Michael mentioned her joining the firm when she graduated. She told us she wouldn’t think of it. She said she didn’t want to spend the rest of her life looking after us. She had a horrid argument with her Father. She said she never wanted to see us again. The last thing she wanted to do with her life was to keep us by working in the business and look after us as we grew old.”

  It was obviously distressing to I got up to fill her glass. She seemed grateful for the interruption but after sipping at the glass she continued in a darker tone. “It wasn’t our Mary talking. She had met that Matthew and it was his words she spoke as she argued with us. He’d set her against us.” The anger in her voice subsided, though the pain was obvious. “We never saw her again after she married. She never came to visit us. We got a phone call to say she was having a baby, and a letter saying she had had a daughter. I think Matthew stopped her contacting us. I don’t think he liked anyone to have any affection for Mary. I think he lied to her about us and I’m sure he stopped her replying to my letters. She would have written. I know she would.” Bridget paused only to dab at the corner of her eye with her handkerchief. “The last letter we got was saying she was coming to England. I don’t think she wrote it. It said such horrid things.”

  As I listened to the mother’s view of losing contact with her daughter it was obvious that she didn’t blame Mary. Not one word did she say against her. She was just filled with guilt that she hadn’t done the right thing, that she and her husband had let Mary down, that they hadn’t been good parents.

  There were no recriminations against their daughter, there was just unconditional, unjudgmental love.

  I left them to talk. They didn’t need me to intrude.

  I walked down the garden and sat on the sea wall, legs dangling over the rocks below, looking out across the darkness of the estuary to the few twinkling lights on Hilbre Island and to Wales beyond.

  I thought of my relationship with my own mother and wondered how many similar emotions she had felt because of me. I had some thinking to do before driving Holly home. In the car I asked her whether she was going to be seeing more of her grandparents now. “Probably not, it was Mom they really wanted to know. I’m my father’s daughter. They hate him too much to see me without seeing him.”

  “If they got to know you they may see passed that.”

  “Probably not. There’s not enough of her in me.”

  I couldn’t think of anything to say that might cheer her up.

  After the O’Dwyers’ visit was over Max and I sat together in his study.

  “Thank you.” He said, rather surprisingly. “Thank you for inviting them.”

  “I was going to thank you for letting them stay.”

  “I want to tell you what I’ve learned. It relates to those wretched men Graham and Matt, and therefore to young Holly Eccleston and her friend Linda Forster.”

  “I hardly know them, you could hardly call them friends.”

  “You should read this.”

  He leant down and unlocked the lower drawer in his desk, taking from it an envelope which he handed to me.

  I began to what he had written on the night of my mother’s funeral, but as I read the words he spoke to me. I listened to him rather than reading the note he had given me. I rather assumed they said the same thing.

  “Matt Eccleston. He wanted money from me. He asked for ‘a regular income’, if he didn’t get it he would put certain information into the public domain that I would prefer to keep private. He was not specific as to which of my many secrets he was to make public but I agreed to pay him. In paying him I hoped to protect others.”

  So he was being blackmailed. He ignored my gesture of surprise.

  “It is not costing much, he is really very bad at it. I had thought that as long as he was getting something from me others would be safe. I hadn’t thought he would kill his wife. I don’t think he would have done if it hadn’t been for Graham.”

  He spoke so easily of murder. “You say he murdered Holly’s mother?”

  “Undoubtedly. It was no accident.”

  I was shocked as much by his calmness as by the information itself.

  “Can’t you do anything about it? Have them investigated, arrested? You can’t let them get away with it.”

  “I have no proof.” He spoke as if that was the end of it, as if proof were necessary before he could bring any action against Matt and Graham.

  It was only later I knew he had been disingenuous. Max was well able to bring about justice without having to depend on anything so awkward as proof.

  “After the funeral Graham Tyler had evidence that Matt Eccleston was most happy to see. I considered it then only a matter of time before they joined forces, if they had not already done so. After that day Graham had in his possession a number of photographs that linked people together who should not be linked, which anchored people in a place and time they have no right to be. I knew then they would undoubtedly make trouble.”

  “They started with the aim of getting money from me using the information Graham learned at your Mother’s funeral along with what Matt himself knew. Then, I believe, for whatever reason, Graham took control. He learned something about Holly’s family that was going to make them more money than I could ever give them. This was the part I didn’t know until my discussions with Michael over the past few days. Michael O’Dwyer started a business in the depths of the depression and has developed it over the years.”

  “Yes, it was the reason they had no time for Mary when she was growing up.”

  “Exactly. Their business grew. He invested in property. He’s retired now, obviously, he sold the business when there was no one to hand it over to. He had hoped Mary would succeed him but she didn’t. There is a very great deal of money. This, I believe, is what Graham learned.”

  “That’s why he’s with Holly all the time, getting close to her.”

  “Quite probably.”

  “That’s why they had to kill Mary, so Holly will inherit.”

  “But I have no proof. Motive is not sufficient for conviction despite there also being the means and the opportunity. There was no reason for the Police to doubt it was an accident. He has been surprisingly clever.”

  “What will they do next?”

  “I think there will be a wedding before too long. If I read these men correctly they will make it impossible for Holly to do anything but marry Graham. Some kind of accident will then befall the O’Dwyers and Holly will inherit. Graham will have control of his wife and the money, some of which he will be obliged to pay his father-in-law.”

  “That’s all a bit far fetched isn’t it?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “We must stop it then. We can’t let Holly be used like that. You know as well as I do that that would be a disaster. They did meet in our house, he’s my cousin, we must have some sort of responsibility?”

  “We have no responsibility for Holly Eccleston.” Max spoke firmly.

  “Can’t we warn her, tell her to have nothing to do with him?”

  “I don’t think so Charles. But if it makes you happier I will make it my business to find out more about Graham.”

  Max had t
old me so much.

  He had told me of the O’Dwyer’s wealth and the plot he believed Matthew and Graham had hatched but he did not tell me the most important thing.

  He did not tell me what he thought I did not know, that Matthew Eccleston was his sister’s son, and Monika’s brother. That they were his family and that he had a great deal of responsibility for Holly.

  But he didn’t say a word.

  As we sat in the comfort of his study we both knew we were sacrificing Holly’s happiness to keep Monika safe.

  Although I felt uncomfortable with it, I understood his reasons and knew I would do nothing.

  I wish I had argued more.

  But I didn’t.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Within a week of Mary’s death Matt had given his notice to leave number 16 and moved into a flat above a shop by the railway station. He had made it clear there was no room in his life for his daughter. Their last conversation confirmed to Holly all she needed to have known about her parent’s marriage.

  “There’s no room for you in the flat you’ll have to sort something out for yourself. You’re not my responsibility any more.”

  “I never was, was I?”

  “As long as your Mother was alive I did my best for you both.”

  “Like shit you did.”

  “You’re nearly 21 years old, no longer a child to be looked after and I don’t need to provide a home for you any more. So you can fuck off and sort yourself out. I’ve got things to do.”

  That evening Holly went round to Linda’s to say she was going back to Leicester.

  “Term doesn’t start for a week.” Linda argued.

  “You can stay here if you like, you don’t have to be in the house if you don’t want to.” The Forsters offered any help she needed, but there was nothing Holly wanted them to do.

  “A week ago I had two parents and a home. I might as well go back, I’ve got nothing here now.”

  Through the short weeks of the Summer Term Linda hardly let Holly out of her sight. She regularly phoned Carl, the twins and her parents to talk to them asking what she should do, how she could help. She really wanted to help but Holly always shut her out. Exams meant that there was no question of Holly going away at weekends and at least, Linda thought, there had been no sign of Graham.