Black Valley

by Williams, Charlotte

  She raised her hand and felt a sharp point of rock above her head. She kneeled on the ground and shuffled forward on her knees.

  Stalactites cling to the ceiling. Stalagmites grow from the ground.

  Someone was talking to her. She looked down and saw a tiny furry animal the size of a mouse. It had pointed ears, beady eyes, and a squashed-in nose the shape of a horseshoe.

  A bat is talking to me. That means I’m dreaming, she thought.

  She shuffled on, leaving the bat behind. The tunnel became smaller and smaller until it was just a hole in a wall of rock. She put her head through the hole, hunched her shoulders and squeezed them in, then wriggled her hips this way and that, until her body was through it.

  On the other side of the hole, the tunnel opened into a cave, lit by a single shaft of sunlight beaming through a crack in the rock above. Under the shaft was an altar. Sitting on the altar was Nella. She was naked, and reading a book. The light was falling on her shoulders. A few feet away was Elinor, standing by an easel. She was painting Nella.

  Jess stood up and dusted herself off. Neither of them noticed her.

  She felt an itching in her hands. They grew hot, the blood rushing to her fingertips.

  She walked forward, clenching and unclenching her fists. When she reached Elinor, she put her hands around her neck.

  Elinor looked surprised, but she didn’t resist.

  Jess placed her thumbs on Elinor’s throat. Her fingers touched round the back, at the nape of her neck. The neck was just the right size for her hands. She could feel the arteries jumping under her fingertips. Big, soft carotid arteries. She began to squeeze.

  A strength came into her hands she didn’t know she possessed. She squeezed harder. Elinor began to choke. She struggled, trying to pull Jess’s hands away. But Jess tightened her grip. Elinor reached up and scratched at her face, making her cry out in pain, but she still wouldn’t let go.

  She heard Nella’s voice. ‘Mum! Stop!’

  She looked up, remembering Nella was there, sitting on the altar.

  There was an explosion, and a shower of rocks began to fall from the hole in the rock above Nella’s head, where the shaft of light came through. Jess tried to scream at her to get out of the way, but her voice wouldn’t come through.

  The rocks tumbled down. She screamed again.

  Look out, Nella, look out!

  This time, her voice came out loud and clear.

  She woke up. She was lying in bed.

  Nella was leaning over her, shaking her by the shoulders. ‘Mum, stop. Stop.’

  Jess blinked. ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘You were having a nightmare. You were screaming my name.’

  Nella was half dressed, her hair on end, wearing a T-shirt of Gareth’s. She looked frightened, like a little girl.

  Jess sat up in bed. She glanced at the clock. It was half past four in the morning.

  ‘It’s just the after-effects of the concussion, I think.’ Jess tried to sound calm, but she heard her voice shake. ‘I keep having nightmares.’ She reached forward and squeezed Nella’s hand. ‘Thanks for coming in, but it’s nothing, darling. Go back to bed. I’m sorry I woke you.’

  Nella didn’t budge. ‘Are you sure you’re OK? Shall I get you a glass of water or something?’

  ‘I’m fine. Now, come on, we’ve both got a busy day tomorrow, so let’s go back to sleep, shall we?’

  Nella looked dubious. ‘Well, if you’re sure you’re all right.’ She leaned down and kissed Jess on the cheek. ‘Call me if you need anything.’

  She went out of the room, looking worried.

  Damn, thought Jess. If there was one thing she hated, it was having her children worry about her. She was the parent; it ought always to be the other way round. She was glad that Rose was with her father, just for the time being, until she got this situation with Elinor out of the way.

  She lay back down again, and closed her eyes. She needed to sleep, but her heart was still thumping. She began to worry. What if she was too tired to carry out the plan? What if it didn’t work? What if she’d forgotten something? What if . . .

  No more ‘what ifs’, she told herself. Half past four in the morning was no time to think about anything. That was what she always advised her clients.

  She went over to the window, opened it wide, and got back into bed. The sound of the trees outside, rustling in the wind, soothed her.

  There was nothing wrong with the plan, she told herself. The plan was fine. It was just a question of keeping calm and putting it into operation.

  She began to practise the mindfulness technique. Concentrate on the here and now.

  She focussed her attention on the whispering trees. She heard the patter of rain on the leaves. Trees, rain, leaves. It wasn’t that complicated. Life was simple, really.

  Or it would be again, after tomorrow.

  At seven o’clock the next morning, Jess woke up. She switched off her alarm and looked out of the window. The rain had dried, and the sun had come out. It was sparkling on the leaves, and the sky was a clear blue, without a cloud in sight. It was going to be a beautiful day.

  She got up, showered, and dressed, picking out her clothes with care: a sleeveless shirt dress – sober, yet summery – and flat shoes. She applied her make-up: sunscreen, foundation, and just a sliver of lipstick. She checked that her mobile was fully charged and put it in her handbag, a tan leather satchel-type affair. Then she was ready to go.

  She went downstairs to the kitchen and was surprised to find Nella there. She was in her dressing gown, eating a bowl of cornflakes and gazing into her laptop.

  ‘You’re up early.’

  Nella looked up as she came in. ‘I thought I’d make you breakfast before you went to work.’

  ‘Oh. That was kind of you.’ Jess paused. ‘I’m not actually very hungry today, though. You could make me a cup of tea if you like.’

  Nella frowned, got up, went over to the kettle, and put it on.

  ‘But you always have breakfast, Mum.’ She busied herself with making the tea.

  ‘I know. I’m just a bit tense at the moment. I’ve got a rather difficult client to see this morning.’

  ‘I thought you weren’t supposed to be back at work yet.’

  ‘I’m not. This is just a one-off session.’ Jess paused. ‘As a favour.’

  Nella brought over a cup of tea and handed it to her. Jess didn’t sit down to drink it.

  ‘Well, I don’t think you should be doing anybody any favours. You should be staying at home looking after yourself.’ There was a patient yet frustrated tone to Nella’s voice that reminded Jess of herself. ‘This screaming in the night. What’s all that about?’

  ‘I told you. Sometimes you have nightmares when you get a bump on the head. It’s nothing. It’ll go soon.’

  Nella sighed. ‘Well, I hope so.’ She nodded at Jess’s cup. ‘Drink your tea. It’ll get cold.’

  Jess sipped her tea obediently.

  Silence fell.

  ‘Right.’ Jess put the cup down, still half full, on the counter. ‘I’m going to have to get going, Nella. I’ve got a bit of paperwork to catch up on before this client gets in.’

  Nella looked perplexed. ‘But it’s still so early. I thought we could go in together. I was hoping you could drop me off.’

  ‘You’ll have to take the bus.’ Jess came over and kissed her on the cheek. ‘Have a good day. I’ll see you later.’

  ‘What time?’

  Jess shrugged.

  ‘And when is Rose coming back?’

  ‘Soon. This evening. Probably. I don’t know.’

  ‘What on earth is the matter with you, Mum?’ Nella was half angry, half frustrated. ‘Just tell me what’s going on.’

  ‘Nothing’s going on.’ Jess picked up her bag, ready to go. ‘I’ve got a lot on my mind at the moment, that’s all. I really can’t discuss it right now.’

  She paused, realizing she’d just spoken Nella’s usual lin
es.

  Nella sighed. ‘Well, just take care, that’s all. Don’t overdo it. I’ll be back from college at six, and I’ll hope to see you then.’

  ‘Fine. Whatever.’

  Jess gave her a quick wave, walked out into the hall, grabbed a jacket, and slung it over her bag. Then she left, without a backward glance.

  36

  It was good to be back, Jess thought, as she let herself into her consulting rooms. On the way in, she’d had a brief conversation with Branwen, the receptionist, who’d been surprised to see her since she was supposed to be off sick. She’d explained that she’d arranged an emergency session with a client, Elinor Powell, just for today, and told Branwen to show her up when she arrived. Branwen began to ask after her health. Jess responded politely to her enquiries, but cut her off as soon as she could, and went upstairs.

  She went over to her desk and switched on her computer. She scrolled through a list of clients, checking that Branwen had contacted each one of them to cancel for that week. She answered a few emails and sorted through some post, throwing the junk mail in the bin. Then she opened a drawer in her desk and took out a Dictaphone that she’d bought some while ago, but had hardly used.

  She tested it, checking the batteries, speaking into it, and playing it back. When she was satisfied that it was working properly, she went over to the mantelpiece, placed it inside a small pot, and switched it on. The battery life was seventy-two hours – she’d checked when she’d bought it. That should be plenty, she thought.

  She went back to her desk, picked up her handbag, took out her mobile phone, and called DS Lauren Bonetti.

  Bonetti picked up immediately, as was her wont.

  ‘Hello. It’s Jessica Mayhew here.’

  ‘Dr Mayhew. How can I help you?’ Bonetti’s tone was stiff.

  ‘At a quarter to eleven, I’m going to phone you on this number. I want you to pick up the phone, leave it on, and listen carefully. OK?’

  ‘Can you tell me what this is all about, please?’

  ‘You’ll find out. But please make sure you do this. It’s extremely important.’ There was a sharpness in Jess’s tone that was quite uncharacteristic.

  Bonetti sighed. ‘OK. As it happens, I’m in the office this morning. But if I get called away—’

  ‘Just follow my instructions, please.’ Jess paused. ‘Goodbye.’

  She put the phone down.

  She got up from her desk and walked around the room, tidying as she went. The cleaners had been in, so there wasn’t much to do. She adjusted the cushions on the couch and on the armchairs, made sure that the pictures on the walls were straight, pulled back the curtains so that they draped nicely either side of the bay window. She opened the window just a crack, so that a slight breeze wafted in. Then she sat down in one of the armchairs and looked up at the white-on-white relief on the wall. The circle was sitting nicely in the squares. She was pleased to see that it wasn’t moving even slightly.

  At a quarter to eleven, she got up, went over to her desk, switched off her computer, picked up her bag, and took out her mobile phone. She called Bonetti’s number, checked that she’d got through, and laid the phone on her desk, under the screen, out of sight.

  Then she went back to the armchair and waited.

  At eleven o’clock there was no knock at the door.

  She gazed up at the relief. The circle didn’t move.

  She glanced at the clock on the coffee table. She could hear it ticking in the silence.

  A minute went by.

  Then another.

  At 11.02, the knock came.

  She got up and opened the door. Elinor was standing there, an eager look on her face.

  ‘Come in.’ Jess gave her an encouraging smile.

  She watched as Elinor went over to the couch. She was wearing her usual scruffy black clothes, but her hair was freshly washed and shining in the sunlight.

  Elinor lay down on the couch, settling her head on the cushion. Jess sat down on the armchair behind her, out of her line of sight.

  There was a silence.

  ‘I don’t know where to start, really.’ Elinor gave a deep sigh. ‘It’s all such a mess.’

  ‘Why not try the beginning?’ Jess’s voice was gentle.

  ‘OK.’

  Another silence. Jess could feel her heart thumping in her chest but she tried to ignore it.

  ‘Right.’ Elinor seemed to make a decision. ‘Well, I suppose I’ve got to tell you. I mean, as you said, this is all in confidence, isn’t it?’

  ‘Absolutely.’

  ‘Whatever I tell you?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Even if it’s . . . a criminal offence?’

  ‘Elinor, I’m your therapist. You know you can tell me anything.’

  ‘Well, then.’ Elinor took a deep breath, then let it out. ‘It was me who killed Ursula.’

  Jess thought of the Dictaphone on the mantelpiece, and the phone on the desk. She hoped to God they were both working. And that Bonetti was receiving the message loud and clear.

  ‘It was her fault. She came round to my studio while I was out, started rooting around, and found a phial of ochre that I’d been using. She put two and two together and realized it was me doing the Hefin Morris paintings. She’d obviously suspected something all along.’ Elinor paused. ‘When I came home and found her there, she started waving the phial about and threatening to tell everyone what was going on. She kept saying people need to know the truth, but I knew it wasn’t that. She was just jealous of my talent, you see.’ A bitter note crept into Elinor’s voice. ‘I tried to talk her out of spilling the beans, but she wasn’t having any of it. She was determined to go ahead. We started to argue, and then I decided I’d had enough. So I picked up a canvas stretcher bar, a great big metal thing, and hit her with it.’

  There was a long silence.

  ‘Go on.’

  ‘It only took one blow. She went down.’ Elinor gave a smile, almost a smirk. ‘I couldn’t believe how easy it was, actually. There was hardly any blood. Just a big bruise on the side of her head.’ She paused. ‘I didn’t feel sorry, not at all. I felt relieved. I hated her, and I was glad she was dead.’

  ‘Well, that’s understandable.’ Jess spoke in a low voice, hoping her words wouldn’t be audible except to Elinor. ‘I suppose you must have felt she betrayed you.’

  Elinor nodded.

  ‘What happened next?’

  ‘Well, while I was there with her, wondering what to do, Blake appeared. He had a key to the place, too; just let himself in whenever he felt like it. He’d come to talk to me about a new painting I was working on. You see, he and I were in on the Hefin Morris project together. In fact, it had been his idea. It was a secret between the two of us. Nobody else knew about it. Not even Isobel.’

  Elinor smiled. Once again, the smile was almost a smirk.

  ‘Anyway, of course, when he saw the body, he panicked. Told me to call the police, say it was an accident. But I had a better idea. I told him to remove the Gwen John painting that was hanging on the wall, take it home, and hide it. We’d pretend Ursula had been killed in a robbery at the studio. I’d clean off the stretcher bar and use it for a canvas, so there wouldn’t be a murder weapon.’ She paused. ‘Blake went off and did what I told him. It all went to plan. But later on, he began to crack. He couldn’t cope with the guilt, he said. That was where it started to go wrong.’

  ‘Go wrong?’ Jess echoed Elinor’s words, just to let her know she was following them.

  ‘I don’t know if I should be telling you this.’ Elinor shifted her head on the cushion.

  ‘You can trust me, Elinor. I’ve told you that. Carry on.’

  ‘It just makes me so sound horrible, though. You won’t like me any more if I tell you.’

  Elinor was truly insane, thought Jess. She was talking as if she’d stolen a bag of sweets, not murdered her own mother.

  ‘I’m not here to judge you. This is a safe space.’ Once again, Jess lo
wered her voice as she spoke, ashamed of trotting out the clichés.

  ‘OK. Well, that was when I realized Blake would have to go. He was running round behaving like an idiot. Kept coming to see me, telling me I had to go to the police and confess. Threatening to tell Isobel. He was frightened that I’d tell you everything, so he’d be incriminated, as an accomplice. That’s why he broke into your office and looked through your file on me. He didn’t find anything, except the time of my appointment, so he got Isobel to call you to see if she could find out more.’

  ‘So Isobel was in on all this?’

  ‘Not at that stage, no. She just did what he told her. You see, the policewoman was closing in on him – she was convinced he was involved with Ursula’s death.’ Elinor sighed. ‘I suppose I tried to take advantage of the situation. Make him look guilty, so they wouldn’t come after me. I started telling people I suspected him. Including you.’

  There was a brief silence.

  ‘I’m sorry about that, Jess. I shouldn’t have done that. Lied to you. I feel bad about that.’

  ‘I understand.’

  ‘You see, I was disappointed in him,’ she went on. ‘It was just weakness on his part. He couldn’t cope with the situation. And of course, I realized that if he cracked, I’d be done for. So I decided something had to be done.’

  ‘And what was that?’

  ‘When he came to find me at the tower, I ran up to the top.’

  Elinor came to a halt. Keep it rolling, Jess thought. Nearly there.

  ‘He came after me. We were arguing. He was telling me that if I didn’t confess, he would. He was waving his arms about, shouting at me, like Ursula had. I was scared. I thought he was going to push me over the edge. So I got in first. I pushed him. Gave him a shove, and he went over.’

  Good, thought Jess. Got that in the bag.

  ‘That wasn’t hard, either.’ Elinor paused. ‘It’s funny, it’s actually quite easy killing people. I always thought it would be difficult.’