by Becky Cairns
Seeing the hurt and pain behind her eyes I feel ashamed for lying to her. My gut tells me no good will come out of telling her the truth, while on the other hand, my conscience wants me to ease the guilt and tell her all. She has the right to know, it murmurs. Wouldn’t you want to know if you were in her place?
‘Okay,’ I sigh and lean towards her a bit. My stomach revolts with what I am about to say, but I can’t see another way around it, can’t bear living a lie any more, there’s been enough of that already. Too many lies and half-truths have been settling above us like fog across fields. ‘You deserve to know at least some of what has been going on, but for your and Bethany’s safety and peace of mind I can’t reveal all, not now, maybe not ever. And you have to promise not to speak a word of it to anyone outside of this room. But above all, you have to promise me that you will never, ever try and confront the persons involved. My heart couldn’t take it if something were to happen to you, either of you. You’re all I have in this world who I can truly trust. So, do you promise me all this?’ Maggie’s eyes have grown wide and I hear the light tapping of her foot as the nervous affliction of hers kicks in. When this first occurred in my presence I found it to be a rather humorous quirk of hers, but now it causes me agony to know I am behind her agitation.
‘Do you promise?’ I ask.
‘But what if…’
‘Just promise me Maggie,’ I enclose my hands around hers, tightly, begging. ‘Please, trust me. That’s all I’m asking.’
She nods her head jerkily.
‘I need to hear you say it Maggie. I need to hear the words.’
‘I-I promise Alex. I swear on my life, on Bethany’s life, that I will not breathe a single word to another living soul or try to confront those involved.’
‘You have to stick by that vow. It’s the only way I know you and Bethany will be safe.’
‘Safe! You have got to be kidding me Alex! Safe? What have you got yourself into? What have you got us involved in? What’s going on Alex?’
Taking a deep breath and closing my eyes the dam finally breaks and the words just cascade out of my mouth without any real control.
‘Thomas’s death wasn’t a random act of hit and run. The person driving the car could have easily avoided the incident, but they didn’t. The driver knew exactly what they were doing. Thomas saw something the driver didn’t want being known. The driver’s aim wasn’t to drive around London as recklessly as he could. His aim was to make sure Thomas never spoke a word, permanently. My brother’s death was no accident.’ I take a breath to recoup before delivering the final blow and for this I know I have to look into her eyes. I need her to believe me. ‘Thomas was murdered.’
Her face drains of colour and her hand starts to tremble, then out of the corner of my eye I see her glass of wine embark on a southward journey to the floor as her fingers turn numb and she loses grip. Before it has chance to completely leave her hand I manage to take it away from her to place on the coffee table out of harm’s way.
‘Mur-mur-murd-murdered?’
I’ve started I might as well finish.
‘You see, Thomas began to get suspicious…’ and I reveal all I know and experienced throughout these last few weeks, leaving out nothing but the murderer’s identity and Gareth’s personal details along with my complex developing feelings towards him. I still can’t explain them. I don’t think I will ever be able to.
During my monologue various emotions plague Maggie’s face. She goes from confusion to understanding one second and fear to relief the next. I wonder what is going through her mind.
‘…And there you have it. Quite a variation from my lousy excuse of staying in a hotel wouldn’t you say?’ I attempt to lighten the atmosphere.
‘Quite,’ she deadpans, my attempt obviously failing.
The awkward silence falls like a curtain on a play. Everything is hidden from viewers’ eyes, but they know activity still continues. The things that must be going on in Maggie’s head, the many questions beginning to form, the explosion of emotions pulling her in all sorts of directions. She must be feeling vulnerable.
Even when I found out the truth I didn’t know what was better. Knowing the fact my fiancé killed my brother or having carried on ignorant of the facts. But it’s too late to ponder the ‘what ifs’ now. Life still continues and you can’t change the past, all you can do is move on and learn from it.
‘I take it you know who killed my husband?’ she asks, eyes avoiding all contact with me.
How has it come to this? She can’t bear the sight of me any longer. I knew I shouldn’t have said anything. Damn my irrefutable guilty conscience!
‘Yes.’
‘And I take it you will not tell me?’
‘I can’t, for your own…’
‘Damn it Alex!’ she expels as she leaps off of the sofa, looming down on me making me feel very small and insignificant. It’s amazing how her tiny frame can appear so ferocious. ‘I have the right to know who killed my husband!’
God, never in my life have I seen her eyes burn with such a fiery passion before. Maggie has always been the calm, collective and demure one. She has never been one to raise her voice or to lash out in anger. She has always managed to deal with difficult situations in some form of etiquette. I don’t know how to deal with this Maggie.
‘Maggie, honestly, if I could I would tell you,’ I say, backing into the corner of the sofa. Stop being so pathetic Alex, it’s only Maggie!
‘So what’s stopping you?’
‘Everything.’
‘That’s not an answer.’
‘It’s the best one I’ve got.’
Maggie opens her mouth as if to speak, but thinks better of it and it closes. She turns her back on me to stare at the mantel piece instead. I hear her sigh and her shoulders slump. The tension rolls off of her back and to the floor.
‘Do I know him?’ she croaks, sounding tired and defeated.
‘How do you know it was a him?’
‘Do I know him?’ she asks again, this time with more authority.
‘I’m sorry, but I can’t…’
‘I said do I know him?’ she rounds on me, absolutely livid. So shocked at her outburst, I unconsciously jump in my seat and try to look for an escape.
‘I can’t tell you Maggie, for your own safety, for Bethany’s. I can’t tell you. Please try and understand this!’
‘How do you expect me to possibly understand when I know Thomas’s killer is still roaming the streets and you are unwilling to do anything to bring him to justice? What can he possibly do to us? What is making you so scared that you can’t even tell me?’ The emotion is clogging up her speech and it is having a poignant effect on me. ‘Please Alex, you can’t keep it bottled up like this. It’s killing you! Can’t you see that?’
‘I’d rather it kill me than you. If you knew the truth it will slowly drain the life from you. I’m thinking of Bethany here. It wouldn’t be fair on her to have both her parents die on her. She doesn’t deserve to become an orphan!’ Now it is my turn to leap from the sofa, the adrenaline taking control.
‘Not knowing is killing me! And don’t you dare bring Bethany into this…’
‘How can I not? She is involved as much as the rest of us. Whatever affects us will affect her, there’s no avoiding that. She’s lost one parent I don’t want her to lose another!’
‘I would never leave her and for you to even think that, you must be…’
‘Maybe not physically, but mentally, yes, you’ll leave her. Not straight away, but slowly, over time, the truth will eat away at you bit by bit until there’s nothing left. Every time you look at Bethany you’ll be reminded. You may come to despise her even…’
‘I would never do that…’
‘Not consciously, no, but unintentionally you’ll be reminded and may lash out, blaming her for the silliest of things. After all, she does look like him a bit.’
Maggie becomes silent all of a sudden and her raised e
yebrows begin to frown.
Why the dramatic change? What have I sa…Shit! I’ve said too much. Maybe I should have kept the last part to myself. How can I have been so stupid?
‘What did you mean by…?’
‘Forget I even said anything.’
‘Alex…’
‘I shouldn’t even be having this conversation with you.’
‘Alex…’
‘I promised myself…’
‘Alex!’ I gradually look up from the floor to meet the torment running through her mind and seeping through the windows of her eyes. The light has dawned and my worst fears are now coming true. With the choice of a few badly chosen words she’s working it out. She knows.
‘Who, killed, my husband?’
‘I can’t…’
‘Who killed him?’ she screams with fists in balls ready to hit something, as Maggie finally comes to the end of her tether.
‘William! It was William okay! It was all him! My fiancé killed your husband!’
Tired, fed up and with streams of tears leaking down my clammy cheek, I stare devastated at the destruction I have just unleashed as a deathly silence falls around us.
Oh God, what have I done?
My mind races with what to do next, but there is nothing I can do. I am now stuck in a hopeless situation and no matter what I say or do it cannot be fixed. Our relationship is now torn into tatters.
I don’t belong here anymore. I can’t continue like this, in this life, with the truth hanging over us. It would tear what little remains until we are left with nothing but debris. It’s not fair on Maggie. It’s not fair on Bethany. It’s best if I just left them to it. Walk out and never look back.
‘Where is Uncle Wiyiam, mummy?’
Heart in my throat, I turn around to see a very tired Bethany standing at the edge of the doorway, her favourite teddy bear clutched in her right arm. My heart goes out to this vulnerable child. She has been thrust into a new stage of her life too early for one so young. A person of her age shouldn’t have to deal with no father figure. Shouldn’t have to deal with the situation she has been dumped in full stop.
‘What are you doing out of bed?’ Maggie’s soothing voice is back and she brushes past me to kneel down to Bethany’s level.
‘I heard shouting. It woke me up.’
‘I’m so sorry Beth. Your Auntie and I were just having a rather loud debate.’
‘What is a d-d-debet?’ she squeaks.
‘A debate is where you discuss a certain subject.’
‘Were you talking about Uncle Wiyiam?’
‘Yes sweetie, we were talking about Uncle William.’
‘Has he been bad?’ she asks, looking from her mother to me then back to her mother, eyes still clouded with sleep.
‘Yes darling.’
‘Are you going to put him on the naughty step?’
‘No sweetie, I won’t be doing that, he deserves far worse,’ Maggie mumbles the last.
‘Are you going to tell him off?’
‘I don’t know what to do.’ She glances over her shoulder to me and sincerely says, ‘I don’t know what to do, but I will keep my promise. I never go back on my word.’
‘What promise mummy?’ Her attention is drawn back to the innocent child in front of her, currently in the process of yawning.
‘Never mind that little one. I think it is about time you went back to bed. I think it’s about time we all headed to bed. I have had enough for one day.’ With that she lifts a very droopy-eyed Bethany into her arms and disappears upstairs leaving me to clear up.
Well, that couldn’t have gone any better!
In the end, I think I’ve done the right thing in telling her the truth. I hope I have. When it comes down to it, she had a right to know. The question is what will she do with the information?
Catching sight of the two full glasses of wine remaining on the table, I decide to knock them back before turning off the lights, shutting up the place and heading to bed.
…The car remains in a straight line, getting faster and faster - 30mph, 40mph, and 50mph.
I turn to my instructor with fear only to be further shocked at seeing William staring back at me, gun in hand, and barrel pointing directly at my forehead. This is it I panic. This is how my life is going to end.
‘That’s it Alex, keep on driving.’
‘Stop it William, just stop it! How could you? How could you?’ Tears start to slide down my cheek as an image of Thomas’s face…no wait, it’s not him but my sister-in-law, Maggie’s sparkling features that comes crashing into my windscreen then hurtles over the car’s bonnet. Before smashing into her body, in slow motion, I see her mouth the word ‘liar’.
I look into the rear view mirror to see the horrific scene of her body lying bloody and crumpled on the cold, damp tarmac, but that is not all. Lying sprawled next to her is the broken body of my niece. Anger coursing through my bloodstream at my uncontrollable act, I crane my head back round to my passenger, ready to spit a thousand hatred words at him, but I am stopped in my tracks when I see who is staring back at me.
Silvery blue light shines in my direction surrounded by dirty blonde locks flopping down either side, framing his handsomely rough face. No smile appears this time however. His face is set in stone as he harshly accuses into the darkness, ‘What have you done? You did this to them Alex. If you had only kept your big gob shut none of this would have happened. It’s your fault Alex, your fault they’re dead.’
Gareth’s face fades away into nothing, leaving me in darkness and with only the whisper of his gravelly voice echoing around me.
‘It’s not true, it’s not true, it’s not true,’ repeats over and over again.
Then out of nowhere the image jumps to a graveyard, but it is one gravestone in particular that stands out. It hasn’t the beginnings of rot or moss coverage and the inscription is a clear as day: ‘Here lies Thomas Andrew Brown, Husband, Father, Son and Brother. May he rise with the truth.’
Hold on a sec, that’s not what is usually written. Just as I am about to take a step closer a hand breaks through the grassy mound where Thomas’s grave lies. I scream and try to leap back but I am firmly held in place.
This inevitably startles me awake, heart thumping against my body like stones being pelted at my chest, breath comes in short spurts, sweat slickened skin and eyes as wide as saucers.
‘I did the right thing, I did the right thing,’ is all I murmur. But why? ‘I told her the truth, I did the right thing.’
As I lay back down into the pillow, breathing regulated, heart normal, one thought crops up. What’s not true?
Chapter Thirty-Two
It’s strangely quiet as I make my way down the stairs. The clicking of the clock in the hallway echoes about the house and I hear the carpet shifting under the weight of my feet.
‘Maggie? Bethany?’ but I get no answer.
As I stroll into the kitchen I see a note leaning against the fruit bowl.
Gone to take Bethany to school and do a bit of shopping. Be back around 12. Help yourself.
Maggie x
Good opportunity to get out of the house, clear my mind.
Grabbing the note and pen I quickly scribble ‘Just popped out for a walk. See you later. Love A’ and after a quick deliberation decide to add, ‘P.S. Sorry’. Simple and to the point.
Collecting my coat and one of Maggie’s scarfs hanging on the pegs I head out into the fresh, but rather mild and cloudy air. On the horizon darker clouds begin to form. With the threat of rain, I snatch up an umbrella then close the front door.
Walking along the pavement my mind floats towards William without my consent. Him of all people! I guess in light of last night’s conversation it’s not surprising. What I don’t understand are these feelings that still flood my veins each time I think of him. How is it possible to still love the man after I know what I do?
The touch of his hand, the way he whispered my name as we laid
sweaty and complete in the comfort of our bed, sheets shoved to the floor in our rampant need to expose ourselves. His ruffled hair in the mornings and the glistening sparkle of the sun’s ray as it drifted through the window to illuminate his flawless skin. I remember the tender lips he used to wake me with as they started at my hip bone and slowly worked their way up to my nose. All this kindness, the care is overshadowed by what he has done. Who would have ever thought such a gentle human being could have the darkest soul.
Now I find my heart torn in two, no three, ways. Maggie and Bethany have a piece, William retains another, but the majority belongs with Gareth and our possible future. Come to think of it, it would be four if I include my brother amongst those I love. He may not be with us anymore, but that doesn’t mean my heart has stopped beating for him. I still love him, always will. He was the rock throughout my youth. I may have been the big sister but he acted the elder more times than not. He was the one who looked out for me, especially in our teenage years. Thomas was the one I ran to when I couldn’t confide in our parents. I told him absolutely everything. What I wouldn’t give to have him here now, to help me through this trauma. He would know what to do. He always did. But if he were here today I wouldn’t be in this mess in the first place!
As I step through the gates and into the park my eyes are drawn straight towards the bench under the tree. A cold shiver crawls over my back, breaking through the thick fabric of my coat and finding skin. I become on edge and my body naturally tenses.
My feet take me towards the bench. I don’t want to go there, every vibe is screaming for me to walk in the opposite direction, but just like a car accident, I can’t help but take a closer look.
Sitting down in the centre a warm presence cushions my buttocks and every nerve ending is sent tingling. It’s as if someone has just literally vacated the space after occupying it for several hours. However, I saw no one get up and walk away. No one is anywhere near enough to have just left either. And yet the unsettling feeling remains.