The Girl in the Red Dress
Page 32
“Well, Julia isn’t going to surprise you,” he observes with a wry grin.
“Oh, that train left the station many moons ago,” I say. “Still she seems happy enough on her own.”
Richard’s face is suddenly serious. “I think Colin has been very fair. I don’t think I would have offered her a second chance – not after what happened.”
“He’s still moving back here though, isn’t he? What he’s offered her is an olive branch.”
Richard nods his agreement. “She stays in Singapore and gets to keep their apartment rent-free for the next two years while she decides what she wants to do.”
“I think she’ll be okay,” I say. “After the fire … when I was in hospital again…” I offer him a rueful smile and he responds with another kiss to the back of my hand. “When I was in hospital,” I say again, “Julia told me how and why she started ‘Glück Glass’. Apparently, the word ‘glück’ has two meanings: happiness and luck. She said the gallery has actually brought her both of those things, which is why she won’t give it up.”
“Is she still involved with…? You know, I don’t think she ever told me his name,” Richard says.
I shake my head. “We talked about lots of things while I was in hospital. I don’t think we’ve ever been this close before.” Emotion gets the better of me once again, but this time Richard hands me a towel to dry my tears.
“Did she tell you about the baby?” he asks.
“Yes. She told me that’s when she knew there was no future for them.”
Richard pours coffee into three newly unpackaged mugs. “I’ll take this out to Silvio.” He walks to the door holding a mug in each hand then pauses in the doorway. “When you’re feeling completely well, I’d like to talk to you about what happened last year.”
“If you’re going to tell me Maggie wasn’t really my friend, please don’t,” I say.
“Maggie … Lena …whatever it is that she’s calling herself these days … I’m not interested, Mum. What I want to talk about is Aggie.” His gentle, hazel eyes search mine, seeking my understanding. “I know I should have told you this before,” he says, “but you were frightened, and I didn’t want to make things worse. It’s just that … I’m certain I saw her in the house the night of the fire. And that wasn’t the first time; I’d seen her before. I don’t think she meant you harm. I think … I think perhaps she was trying to warn you about Miriam.”
I want to throw my arms around him, tell him how much I love him. I want to reassure him that everything he did, I know, was done to make me feel safe and cared for, but I don’t want to start a conversation about Aggie when there’s so much that must remain unsaid, so I smile and tell him, “You could be right. I’ve been wrong before.”
His face lights up and his eyes twinkle their delight. “Wow, Mum! That’s quite an admission.”
I throw the towel at him, but it misses its target and falls at his feet. “I’m right about most things though. Don’t you forget it.”
“I’ll tell you one thing you’re not right about,” he replies. “That damned garage at the bottom of the garden. Why won’t you let us clear it out?”
“Oh, there’s plenty of time for that,” I say, hoping against hope that he won’t press me to make a decision. “Off you go now or the coffee will get cold.”
The freshly ground coffee is really good – it’s Italian, a present from Mamma Mazzi. I think it’s the kind of drinking habit I could happily acquire although I quite enjoyed the green tea, which Julia persuaded me to try, even if I’m not quite as convinced by the health benefits.
I cast my eyes around the small, square kitchen and I can’t help thinking: how on earth did Mrs Bagshot manage to produce the complicated meals she served her family?
My mother had a huge kitchen with an old-fashioned range to cook on, but I’m sure it was mostly used to dry out my father’s clothes when he came in from the fields. Dinner was plain meat and veg, and if my mother could put everything into a single casserole dish then that’s what we had.
It was a happy childhood though and one where we were encouraged to be independent and free to explore the world around us. I’m not sure I can say the same about Aggie’s childhood and sadly she never really escaped it.
Now that I can move more easily, I quickly check that Richard is no longer within earshot.
“Are you there, Aggie?” I say out loud.
Julia explained to me how Miriam died. She didn’t give me the graphic details, but she did tell me about the ghostly figure in the red dress at the top of the scaffolding, although her take on the situation was to ridicule Richard for his ‘outrageous imagination’.
“Did you push her, Aggie?” I whisper.
I wouldn’t put it past you, but I’ve had a lot of time to think about it, and I’ve chosen to draw the conclusion that everything you did was motivated by care and concern for the people you loved.
I look out of the kitchen window past Richard and Silvio working in the garden; past the ivy-cloaked garage hiding Mr Bagshot’s Volvo covered by a huge tarpaulin. My eyes come to rest on the soft sweep of blue sky, which stretches overhead and fades into the far horizon. I’m reminded of that day, a day quite like no other day, when you told me you were responsible for George’s death. You couldn’t know that what you did would be a life-changing event for many people and not just for me, which is what, I’m certain, you had planned.
“I know you’re out there somewhere, Aggie,” I say. “I just wanted to let you know, for as long as I live, your secret will be my secret. Au revoir my dear friend.”
********
Acknowledgements
I would like to thank –
Hilary Barber, Chloe Chong and Kevin Tracey for reading the first draft of this novel. Your comments and observations were as always invaluable.
The late Graham Barber for his work designing the front cover.
Paul Churchouse for proofreading.
And last, but not least, my family: Anthony, Chloe, Liam and Ciara. Your support and encouragement are appreciated more than you can ever know.
About the author
Elaine Chong was born in Essex. She read German with Philosophy at UEA, Norwich. She has lived in Germany, Austria, Singapore and Malaysia, but she returned to Essex, and continues to live there with her family. In 2002, Elaine was a winner in the Essex Book Festival Fresh Talent competition. She is also the author of Sturstone Hall. She can be contacted via her Facebook page: elainechongauthor.
Also by this author
Sturstone Hall
A Paranormal Mystery
Sturstone Hall. It sits on the brow of a low hill in a gently undulating Essex landscape, blackened and broken, stubbornly refusing to give way to nature, nursing its secrets, and waiting for the one…
But change is coming.
Colchester hotelier Helen Whelan is restoring the gatehouse to the Hall, persuaded by her husband, Carl, that it will be a new home for them: a place to start a family and perhaps a different life.
When she begins to experience strange, psychic visions, Helen decides to consult university parapsychologist, Doctor David Barton. The meeting sets in motion a sequence of events which will change her life forever.