by W W Walker
She shook her head. “No hot water.”
“You’re right. I forgot.”
They chuckled and they stared into each other’s eyes. Oh, lord, Rhianna thought. I’ve got a crush on a guy I’ve just met.
“We’ve had a power cut,” Constance said to Gladys. “It’s all I need.” She propped her head in hands as her elbows rested on the table.
“I think you should get some rest, dear.” Gladys lit some candles and put one down on the table. “While the lights are out, there’s nothing else we can do.”
Constance rubbed her eyes. Maybe Gladys was right. She was very tired. “I don’t think I can go up there in the dark on my own,” she said. “Frightened of ghosts!” She chuckled with irony. She’d spent the last five years being beaten by her vile husband, and now she was scared of the dark. Ironic indeed.
“Why don’t you lie down on the settee? I can watch over you. You’ll be okay.”
Her lips trembled. To hear those kind words…Now she was about to fall apart.
She sobbed. She couldn’t stop. Her lungs pulsed and her throat constricted while tears blinded her. Her shoulders rocked and her stomach tightened as if it had been twisted in an unbreakable knot. As she cried, she felt Gladys’ strong arm guided into the sitting room and onto the sofa. She rested her head on a soft cushion while her feet were lifted up, her shoes removed, and her body covered in a blanket. She wanted to sigh if only the sobbing would stop.
Then darkness fell in the darkness, as Constance slept.
Marigold knocked on the front door. She saw a light coming down the blackened hall toward the glass. Gladys ushered her inside out of the cold.
“I’ve come to see if you’re okay,” she said. “I’m making the rounds with my torch.”
“That’s kind of you,” answered Gladys. “How long do you think it’ll be out?”
“It could come on at any time. I suppose a storm is brewing. It happens in these conditions.” That was true. Last year, they’d had a raging storm in winter, and they’d lost their power for two days. That was when the neighbours united and helped each other. All except Eddie.
“Constance is sleeping,” Gladys said.
“Oh, I see. I won’t disturb her then. You’re both coming to the party at Eva’s house, aren’t you?”
“I’m not sure. Constance isn’t feeling too good. She may sleep through it.” Gladys’ nerves were still on edge. Even more so than earlier.
Marigold decided to test the water. “How’s Eddie?” She was convinced that Constance’s despicable husband had run off, but earlier, when she’d pondered over that, she couldn’t help thinking that running off was out of character for him. Why would he leave his own personal battering ram? Now that Marigold had exhausted all possibilities as to Eddie’s whereabouts, apart from him drowning in the bay, she couldn’t help wondering if something more sinister was going on.
Gladys took her time answering. “Actually, he never came back from his swim.”
Marigold suddenly went cold as chills ran up her spine.
They were still standing in the hall. Gladys was leaning on the door frame, looking all done in.
Marigold stepped forwards and took Gladys’ arm, guiding her back to the kitchen. She helped her sit down at the table where a candle burned in the centre. The sitting room doors were open, and Marigold looked inside. She saw Constance sleeping, lying on the couch with a checked blanket over her. The gas fire was on low, casting shadows over the walls and the ceiling. Marigold turned off her torch and closed the doors. She sat down at the table with Gladys, reaching out to touch her hand. “What’s happened?”
Gladys bit her lip. “He never came back from his swim,” she said.
“Oh my god.”
She nodded. “Constance went down to the beach when the tide was out, but she couldn’t find him.” Gladys' face was drawn. Her wrinkled skin was tired and opaque looking, and her shoulders were slumped as if her back was bent.
“Did you call the police?”
“Yes.”
“What did they say?”
She looked toward the patio doors where their reflection in the glass blocked any images of the weather outside. “They said they would call the coast guard and start a search.”
Something didn’t seem right to Marigold. “But they came to the house, didn’t they, to ask questions?”
“Oh, yes,” Gladys rushed. “Yes, they came earlier.”
“That’s strange. I didn’t notice a panda.”
“It was plain clothes. And a plain car. You wouldn’t have noticed that.”
“They couldn’t have been here long. I think I would have seen a strange car inside the gates.”
Gladys sighed as if she wanted to end the conversation.
Marigold wondered why on earth she had just spieled all that bull. She looked towards the door to the sitting room where Constance slept. “You know, I’m wondering…”
“What are you ‘wondering’?” Gladys tilted her head and stared directly at her. Her skin was ashen in the candlelight as it cast shadows over her creased face. By that one look, she had offered a challenge to Marigold.
Marigold decided to take it. “I was just wondering when you were going to stop lying and tell me what the hell has been going on here?”
Eva couldn’t believe what rotten luck she was having. For the power to go off just before she was expecting people over was just about the sum of it.
She had arranged candles all over the living room. There could be nine coming to the party, so they would probably congregate in there. Shame it wasn’t nicer weather. They could have gone outside on the terrace. Still, she’d have to make the most of it now. Especially since it looked like a storm was brewing. Jade had placed two candles in the downstairs cloakroom and one in the hall next to the telephone, which was currently dead as a dodo. She couldn’t even telephone people to let them know the party was still going ahead, or if they were coming at all.
She hadn’t seen Mrs Butler all day. She’d gone over earlier and knocked on their door, but there was no answer. She supposed they’d been picked up by their daughter. At least Eva didn’t have to have the conversation about why Roger hadn’t invited Mr B on the golf trip. Just in case, she’d popped a note through the letterbox telling them that they were welcome to come over at 6pm for cocktails with the rest of the neighbours. As for the non-invitation to golf, she’d just have to bluff her way through that. Marigold was definitely coming and Kiki too. She’d invited Constance and her mother-in-law, but she’d kept Eddie off the invitation. He couldn’t be bothered to inform Roger that he wasn’t going on the trip, so she couldn’t be bothered asking him over for drinks. A tooth for a tooth!
She’d invited Tammy (and Tom) from next door, but Eva doubted they’d come. She couldn’t remember one social occasion they’d turned up for. Tammy and Tom must have invented the concept of keeping oneself to oneself. The new girl, Rhianna, would come. She’d said so earlier when she visited. That left Eva and Jade.
Assessing the house once more, she checked she had enough plates and glasses, enough food, laid out on the table in the kitchen, clean towels in the loo, enough candles, and that the fire was lit. Yes, everything looked in order and the place looked quite homely. There wasn’t much else she could do now but wait.
End of Part 2
Part 3
Chapter Twenty-four
Drake Fisher threw water over Tyrone’s face. The cold blast didn’t waken him fully, but it was enough for him to recognise Drake so that the fear of god was instilled in him. What joy!
The day had turned out to be quite eventful.
After watching the bus depart Seaview, he’d hung around inside the empty house at No.3. From the darkened room, he’d watched the residents come and go like rats caught in a cage. It made him chuckle. If only they knew he was watching them.
After the milkman had turned up, removing the empties and leaving new, he noticed that the Langs had taken in six bot
tles of fresh orange juice and four pints of milk. Curious, seeing as Roger Lang wasn’t there for the weekend. He also noticed a woman turn up just as the bus was leaving. He wondered who she was, dressed up like a tart with that sparkly top on.
After the milkman had driven his van back through the gates, and after the postman had delivered the mail, and after the newspaper boy had delivered the papers, Drake decided that he couldn’t have people coming and going all day long. That when he’d decided that later, when things had quietened down, he’d go to the gates and cut the cable to the keypad. That would prevent anyone else coming in…and leaving.
Earlier, just before midday, he saw the woman from No.7 walk along the eight, carrying a co-op carrier bag. An old lady was with her. They were going toward the steps that led down to the beach.
He’d already checked out the steps before anyone got up that morning. He wanted to see if the people of Seaview had another exit, but when he looked down at those well-worn steps with the water at the bottom, he became quite giddy as he remembered his father and the cellar steps that had led him to purgatory. When he finally stopped the giddiness by leaning on the big stone with a sign that said Descend at your own peril, he immediately slapped himself on the face, three times on the right and twice on the left. That had sorted him out, clearing his head of all intrusive thoughts and dreams. After all, he needed a clear head if he was going to do what he wanted to do when darkness came.
Drake thought it was odd when he saw the old lady walking back on her own along the eight to enter No.7. He wondered why the other woman with the carrier bag went down to the beach alone.
Twenty minutes later, he saw a girl wearing an anorak come out of No.6 and go towards the steps.
He decided to keep an eye on them, so he fixed his gaze on the top of those steps and waited for one of them to emerge. Eight minutes later, the other woman came back up. She had the carrier bag screwed up in her hand, and it was empty.
Strange lot, thought Drake.
In the afternoon, around about 4 pm, he decided he needed to get the ball rolling. No one was around when he went down to the gate. He collected some ladders from the Butler’s garden and put them up against the nine-foot wall. He was happy that he could walk around freely at No.8. They wouldn’t be catching him doing anything anymore.
He climbed the ladder and looked over the wall. With no one about, except for Tyrone’s car parked on the verge at the side of the road, he pulled up the ladders and put them down on the other side. He went straight to the electrical box. He took out the lock, found the right wires and cut them with a pair of secateurs from the Butler’s greenhouse. He knew he’d taken out the power when the lights on the gate went out. Tonight, when it was dark, he could work more freely, he thought, as he went back over the wall the way he came.
Now, while Tyrone was laid out on the kitchen floor, moaning from the pain, Drake leaned down and spoke close to his ear. “Where are your car keys?” Drake asked in that menacing way his father used to do when it put the fear of god into him. “They’re not in your pocket so where are they?”
Tyrone’s eyes flickered from side to side before coming to rest on Drake’s face. His eyes bulged in recognition as the one who had almost run him down with the forklift truck at Phillips Electronics factory floor. Drake smiled. “Yes, it’s me. Hello again.”
Chapter Twenty-five
“I heard you talking earlier,” Marigold said to Gladys. They were still sitting at the table while Constance slept on the sofa.
“What do you mean?” Gladys asked.
Marigold could tell that her resolve was crumbling. Soon she would cave and tell all. Marigold was sure of it. “You and Constance were talking in the garden. I was next door and heard everything you said.”
Gladys’ eyes widened as she recalled their discussion.
“You were talking about a stone, about how you’d tossed it over the cliff,” Marigold whispered. “Constance remarked that there was now a hole in the rockery.”
Gladys gulped and lowered her eyes.
“Then you talked about a wet suit…about burying it on the beach.”
As Gladys rubbed her tired eyes, a voice came out of the darkness and startled Marigold. “Tell her, mum,” Constance said. “Tell her everything.”
Marigold turned to look at Constance with a blanket around her. She was white as a sheet, with dark lines under her eyes. “Sit down, Constance,” Marigold said as she pulled out a chair. Marigold put her arm around her shoulders and hugged her. “Whatever has happened, I understand. I wouldn’t blame you for anything.”
Gladys began. “There was an accident…”
“No, mum,” Constance said softly. “Tell her the truth.”
A pause crept between the three women, while ‘the truth’ hung in the air like a suspense novel. The candle on the table burned and flickered, illuminating their faces with foreboding. Around them, the dark reigned as if they were three witches sitting around a midnight campfire while casting spells and throwing potions into a cauldron. Before Constance spoke, a draught came from somewhere and snuffed out the candle. One of them screamed before Gladys picked up a match and relit it.
Constance took a deep breath. “I killed him,” she said simply.
Marigold gasped. It was one thing to suspect a misadventure of some kind, but quite another to hear it coming from Constance’s lips.
“Last night…he raped me. He hurt me badly and somewhere in my mind something snapped. I was going to throw myself over the cliff, but mum stopped me.”
Marigold looked at Gladys’ sorrowful face. Somehow, the death of Eddie had brought the two women together.
“When he came back from his swim. I hit him over the head with a rock. He died instantly.”
Marigold covered her mouth with her hand. She couldn’t speak.
“We got rid of all traces of blood and then we threw his body over the cliff to the sea.”
With her hand still covering her open mouth, Marigold shook her head. Murder.
“We thought we could make it look like he’d been thrown against the rocks by the waves, but then we realised we’d killed him after he’d removed his wet suit. When they recover his body, we won’t be able to explain that.” Constance sighed at her own incompetence. “I buried his wetsuit in the sand, but I’m afraid it was a mistake…and it’s too late to rectify it. It will be found, and the police will know I killed him.”
“Did you call the police. Like Gladys said?”
Gladys shook her head. “We were too afraid, and then, when we decided it would be for the best the power went off and we couldn’t use the phone.”
A silence came between them then. The three were in cahoots, all wondering what on earth they were going to do.
Rhianna looked at the clock. It was five-thirty.
Tom was sitting next to her with his empty wheelchair at the side, as if it was waiting for him. He looked normal as he sat staring at the fire, but while he moved his arms and his hands and his upper body, his legs remained still, lifeless, as if they were made of stone. In the darkness with just the flickering flames of the fire lighting the room, he looked even more handsome than he had an hour ago, when Rhianna, had fallen head over heels in love. Love at first sight! She couldn’t fathom it, but it had happened. She had been struck with the ability to see into a stranger’s soul, his mind, his eternal desires and ambitions. It was a miracle, not something you could plan. It could only happen when you never expected it. To premeditate it was impossible. But the love…well, it was there, as clear as a blue sky on a summer’s day.
She didn’t know what to do. She could hardly come out and say it, to tell him that she was smitten. He wouldn’t believe her, much less his sister. She would warn him to stay clear of a woman who gave her heart so freely.
“Thanks for telling me about your accident,” she said trying to stick to the reason for being there. “It must have been a terrible shock for you both.”
Tammy nodded
. “It was. But we got over it, even when nobody else did.”
“What about your parents?”
“Our father died of a head attack while Tom was still in hospital.”
Rhianna shook her head, unable to imagine what that must have been like.
“When Tom was sent home, nobody could deal with his sudden incapacity. Our mother was a nervous wreck.”
“My sister, here…” Tom interrupted. “She took over. She decided to dedicate her life to me, even though I told her not to.”
“We’re twins, you see,” said Tammy as if that explained everything.
“We bought this place, with the misplaced notion that we would have privacy from the gawping world. We actually thought that being behind a gate would protect us. How wrong we were.”
“What do you mean?” Rihanna asked.
“It was like being trapped in a goldfish bowl with seven other fish,” Tammy said. “At first, they stayed away, worried about disturbing us, but then they worried they weren’t being neighbourly enough.”
Tom turned to look at her. “We just wanted peace and quiet, and to go about our lives without having to explain anything. They made the assumption we were married, and we decided not to enlighten them. That’s the other thing we’ve learned about human nature, they always see bad in everything. Soon rumours would have spread about the incestuous twins, living together in plain sight of their pure unsullied eyes.”
Rhianna raised a brow. She wondered how true that was. Were they being over-sensitive, or would it really have turned out that way?
“What about relationships?” Rhianna asked, “Girlfriends, boyfriends?” She tried not to look embarrassed for asking.
“There have been people, but we found it just complicated things.”
“But Tammy,” Rhianna said, in her usual blunt way. Soon they would kick her out for over-stepping the mark. “I can understand Tom having his writing to keep him warm at night, but, you, Tammy, what about you?”