An Ordinary Girl

by Barabara Elsborg

  “Miss Elleston, I’m Iain Prescott. This is Detective Inspector Marshall. Thank you for getting here so quickly.”

  “So she’s still alive?” Ash asked.

  “Yes. I think she’s hanging on for you.” The doctor smiled at her.

  Ash didn’t smile back.

  “What’s killing her?” she asked.

  Ash saw the doctor raise his eyebrows at the way she phrased the question.

  “Cancer. She’s in no pain.”

  Pity.

  She turned to the policeman. “What do you want me to do?”

  “If she’s telling the truth about there being an eighth victim, get her to tell you where the body is buried. Exact details. Ask her for a name and when it happened and why this one wasn’t buried at the house like the others. Also, are there any more?”

  Ash nodded. Her stomach churned. She had her hands clenched to stop them shaking.

  “You’ll have to leave your bag in my office,” the doctor said. “There’s a metal detector you need to pass through, so please leave your phone and anything that might set it off.”

  She emptied her pockets and put her phone in her bag. She’d switched it off after she left the hotel in Paris.

  “Ready?” the doctor asked.

  No. “Yes.”

  * * * * *

  Denise North opened her eyes the moment Ash walked up to her bed. The doctor and policeman were behind a screen but could hear everything. Ash thought she might not recognize her mother, but she did. The frail figure lying in a hospital bed attached to a drip had wrinkled skin now and gray hair, but her eyes were the same. Cold, cruel and calculating. Ash expected to feel something, possibly anger, maybe some smidge of sympathy for what might have been, but she felt empty.

  No, it’s not that. Ash wasn’t empty. Her emotions were hiding. She wanted this woman to see nothing. Ash straightened her spine. Her mother had done enough damage and not just to her. She couldn’t hurt Ash now.

  “Hello, Girl.” The voice was raspy, but it sent a shudder through Ash. Maybe she could still be hurt.

  Girl was what her parents called her. They only used her name when other people were around.

  “Who else did you kill?” Ash asked.

  “What are you up to these days?”

  Ash could see the effort it took for her mother to talk. Her breathing was ragged, her chest heaving.

  “Married a lawyer. We’ve three kids. I work part-time in a library. Who else did you kill?”

  “Liar. You’ll never have children.”

  Ash didn’t move a muscle but she felt as though she were submerging into icy water. “Who else did you kill?”

  “She’s in the allotment. Under Stan’s shed.”

  Oh God, oh God. Ash clenched her fists behind her back.

  “You look like you’ve been to a party,” said her mother.

  Ash glanced down at her dress. “I was dancing.” Having the best time of my life until you ruined it.

  “Didn’t get that from me.”

  “I didn’t get anything from you.” Damn, damn, damn. That had slipped out before she could stop it.

  “Yeah, you did. Money. And we made you, me and Tim. You’re ours. Were and always will be. Can’t change that even if you change your name and dress yourself up as someone else.”

  Bitch. Ash shook her head. “I made myself. I brought myself up. I fed myself. What’s her name?”

  “I did her.” She let out a choked laugh. “All on my own.”

  Ash swallowed the bile rising in her throat. Not my mother, not my mother. Ash repeated the words in her head.

  “Come out, Prescott. I know you’re there. A copper too, I expect. You’ve brought my daughter back to me. That was the deal.”

  “I’m—” Don’t rise to it, Ash told herself. Don’t react. But I’m not your fucking daughter.

  The two men came to Ash’s side.

  “Your dad didn’t know about this one. She was all mine. It was your fault. Stealing that book. You remember that?”

  “Yes,” Ash whispered. Her legs and arms felt as heavy as if they’d turned to stone.

  “The police came, and afterward your dad punished you. I wanted to do it. Still, I could hardly break your other arm. Social services would have been down on us like a ton of bricks. So I found someone else to break.”

  Oh my God. The knot of horror in Ash’s stomach was a churning ball of snakes and she began to curl in on herself.

  “Were there more?” the policeman asked.

  “I’m not speaking to you.” The snap in her mother’s voice jerked Ash upright.

  Ash took a deep breath before she spoke. “Are there others the police don’t know about?”

  “No.”

  Ash took a deep breath. “What was her name?”

  “She was pretty. Nothing like you. Long hair and a cute smile. She was a good girl, but that didn’t save her.”

  “What was her name?” Ash asked.

  “Tell me you love me and I’ll tell you.”

  A fiery ball of hatred flared in Ash’s chest. They were just words, but she made them brittle with tears and anger. “I love you.”

  Her mother smiled. “Natalia Golitsin.”

  Ash’s vision blurred. The room began to spin, everything fragmented into lines and angles and then blankness.

  * * * * *

  DI Marshall drove Ash back to London. He’d milked her of everything she knew about the allotment and the details of when her arm had been broken until she was too emotionally exhausted to say any more. When she’d heard the name Natasha Golitsin she’d feared the worst. The doctor put Ash’s faint down to stress. Ash felt as if her heart had broken and it was still broken. Golitsin was too unusual a name for there to be no link to Noah. He said he’d had a sister who’d died. The detective told her Natalia’s father would be grateful to her. Had he spent all this time hoping she might be found alive? One of those kids kept imprisoned in a basement? Or had he accepted she was dead and now he could put her to rest?

  It might be coincidence, but Ash knew, she just knew. Her worry over telling Noah about her evil parents faded into insignificance. Her mother had killed his sister and she’d done it because Ash had stolen that book. The detective told her it wasn’t her fault, that what she’d done hadn’t been a trigger for her mother to kill again, but Ash knew better.

  “You’re lucky you survived,” DI Marshall said. “They could have killed you.”

  Ash knew why she’d been spared. She’d made them look normal—an ordinary family. She hadn’t understood as a child why her parents had done what they did, nor did she as an adult. A number of books had been written, even a film made, but people could only guess why they gained pleasure in abduction, torture, rape and murder. It was beyond Ash’s comprehension and she was glad of that. If she thought too much about it, she’d go mad.

  Only one thing filled her mind now. Everything had been spoiled. She’d tried to escape her past and failed. Noah will never want to see me again.

  Chapter Twenty

  When Ash and the detective arrived at the allotment, it had already been closed off with yellow and black tape. Police vehicles lined the road and several officers prevented anyone from entering.

  “All we need you to do is to point out Stan’s shed and then I’ll have you taken home,” Marshall said.

  Ash exited the car and walked down the gravel path. She hadn’t been here since she was a child. The allotments were a few hundred yards from where she lived. Stan had been a neighbor. An old man then, he was surely dead by now. He’d brought her here one day when he’d found her crying in the garden. Her parents had left her without a key. Stan had tsked, and despite Ash’s protest he’d pushed a note through the door to tell them what he thought about what they’d done and that he’d taken her to the allotment. Ash had paid for that.

  Nothing here looked different, apart from the mass of police officers and the worried-looking gardeners who stood by their sheds,
but the thought of what had happened here made her stomach churn. Ash pointed to a small wooden hut with a horseshoe hanging above the door. The shoe hung the wrong way. She knew that now, but hadn’t known then. All the luck had drained out.

  Ash stepped away as officers went into the wooden structure. The owner looked bewildered as he was led away to allow the police to do their work. Ash wondered if tomorrow he’d be telling his story on the TV. She stared at the rows of lettuce, remembering it had been set with peas when Stan had brought her here. She’d picked them one-handed and pulled out weeds as she went. One weed had come up with a butterfly necklace and Ash had snuck it into her pocket, delighted to have found something so pretty. One small action with big consequences because if she’d given it to Stan, maybe Natalia Golitsin would have been discovered sooner. Of course, it was always possible the necklace had nothing to do with Natalia, but Ash still needed to tell.

  “I found something here,” she whispered.

  The detective turned to look at her.

  “When I was a little girl. It was in the soil. A butterfly necklace.”

  His deep sigh confirmed what she suspected. “I don’t suppose you still have it.”

  “Actually, I do.”

  * * * * *

  The detective drove her to the storage facility and followed her to her unit. Ash unlocked the door and switched on the light.

  “This is a lot of space for not much,” Marshall said as he looked around.

  Ash took down the box holding Teddy Robinson and lifted him out.

  “Sorry, Teddy,” she muttered, and pulled more of the stuffing from his back. Her fingernail snagged metal and she tugged the necklace out.

  It was even prettier than she’d remembered. The wings were smothered in red, green and white stones. Ash handed it over and he let it drop into an evidence bag.

  “I didn’t know whose it was. I was too young to read newspapers and I wasn’t allowed to watch television. I’m sorry.” Oh God, he had no idea how sorry.

  “You’ve nothing to be sorry for. I can’t imagine you had a very pleasant childhood.”

  “No,” Ash said in a quiet voice. “Not pleasant at all.”

  “I’ll drive you home.”

  “Thank you. I’m going to take the box with me.”

  “Can I give you a hand?”

  “I’m fine, thanks.”

  Ash gathered her past into her arms, and on the way out, ended her arrangement with the storage company.

  Before they’d reached Greenwich, Marshall had a call to say they’d found human remains under the shed. Ash felt as though part of her had died then.

  Ash sighed. “Will it take long to identify her?”

  “Probably not. We’re looking for a match rather than a stranger. DNA, dental records, clothes and the necklace, it’s more than likely to be Natalia.”

  Marshall pulled up outside her house. Ash climbed out and gathered her things from the backseat.

  “Thank you,” he said. “I’ll let you know the outcome.”

  * * * * *

  Noah lounged with his eyes shut and his feet on the coffee table in the opulent reception of the George V. Four excuses so far from Sandra McKinnock and it was now midafternoon. Valentina was the one annoyed today. For once, Noah had hardly opened his mouth. He ignored Valentina’s questions, and eventually she’d called him a total shit and a few other choice names and turned her back on him.

  He’d rerun what had happened and still couldn’t figure things out. If Ash lied about her mother being alive, had she lied about other things too? Had she invented abusive parents to stop him from feeling sorry for himself and make him sorry for her? He thought she was an ordinary girl, but she’d chartered a private jet to fly her back to the UK. Where the hell did she get the money for that?

  And she’d left behind the dress he’d bought her.

  On the other hand, after a phone call out of the blue to tell her that her mother was very sick, how could she think straight? What right did he have to ask to go with her? If he could believe Ash, then she and her mother didn’t get on, but faced with never seeing each other again, they might have been reconciled at the end. A little bit of Noah wished Ash had wanted her mother to meet the man she’d said she loved.

  When the PA appeared and told them they could go up, Noah rose to his feet and grabbed his bag. If Ash’s real reason for wanting him to stay was so that he would do this job, then he wouldn’t let her down.

  * * * * *

  Much to Ash’s relief, the house was empty. She carted her stuff up the stairs. Kay’s door was open, and when Ash looked inside, she saw it had been stripped of most of her belongings. Rage over Kay’s actions had faded to deep disappointment. They were supposed to be friends. It worried Ash she’d not used better judgment. Trying to be kind to everyone had blinded her to behavior she’d spent too long excusing. Ash continued up the last flight.

  She put her things in the bottom of her wardrobe and emptied her backpack. This had been the best and worst weekend of her life. Hard to know whether she was glad she’d gone to Paris and had those special moments or whether she’d have been better off if Kay had never given back her passport. She closed the wardrobe door. No point in what ifs. It made no difference whether she’d gone or not. Her mother had murdered Noah’s sister. Nothing could change that. She’d been forced to utter three words to her mother that she’d never said in her life. It didn’t matter that her mother knew she didn’t mean it.

  Ash gathered up her laundry and carried it downstairs. Despite the way they’d parted, she knew Noah would call. Switching off her phone would only bring him to the door, and how could she possibly speak to him? Until it was confirmed the body was that of his sister, how could she make love to him, talk to him, be with him? He needed to learn the truth from the police, and then Ash would tell him her role in the story. Maybe.

  There would be no ball, no wearing of the gorgeous dress—not that she’d remembered to bring it—no fairytale happy ending. On the contrary, there was likely to be unpleasant publicity, particularly if the press found out who she was. Then she’d have to move. That was the reason she’d taken her things out of the storage depot. Mike and Ronan could continue living in the house and find two others to share. Ash’s ownership of the property was hidden in the files of a management company with instructions her identity was to be kept secret. She’d have to lose Green Piece too, but Martin could run it as long as the cash injections continued. The tour guiding might have to finish too. A real life Jack the Ripper’s daughter leading the tour? Ash didn’t want to be on display.

  She stood leaning against the washing machine when her phone rang. Ash checked the caller ID before pressing the button.

  “Hello.”

  “It’s Iain Prescott. Your mother died fifteen minutes ago. I’m sorry.”

  Ash presumed the sorry was automatic. Who could possibly be sorry Denise North was dead?

  “Thank you for letting me know.”

  “Your mother made certain requests regarding her funeral. She wanted—”

  “No,” Ash said. “I won’t be attending her funeral. I have no interest in what she wanted. Do what you like with her. If you require money, please let me know.”

  “The state will cover the cost. What about her things?”

  “I want nothing of hers. She was manipulative until the very end, I won’t be used again.” Ash didn’t feel angry, just exhausted.

  “Er…her ashes?”

  Use it as cat litter sat on the tip of Ash’s tongue but she restrained herself. “It would be fitting if she remained in the grounds of Rampton.”

  “I’ll see to it. I am sorry, Ms. Elleston. She was a…difficult woman. I can imagine what your upbringing was like.”

  “Try not to,” Ash said. “Goodbye.”

  She stuffed her phone back in her pocket and felt…nothing. Not even relief. Ash had spent so long pretending her mother was dead, she had nothing left inside.

  T
he front door banged and she heard Ronan and Mike laughing. Ash plastered a smile on her face and emerged from the utility room.

  “Whoa, what are you doing back?” Ronan asked.

  “Got an early train. Noah’s tied up all day taking photos of Sandra McKinnock and her baby so I decided to come home.” Oh God, I hate lying.

  “Have a good time?” Mike asked.

  “Great.” Ash smiled. “What happened with Kay?”

  Ronan rolled his eyes. “We half got rid of her. Come in the kitchen and while I cook, I’ll tell you.”

  * * * * *

  Dalton walked up the stairs to Ilya’s flat, his heart heavier with each step. This time, Ilya wasn’t waiting at the door but had left it ajar. Dalton knocked and walked in. He’d already given Ilya a partial explanation of why Ash had ended up in Paris with Noah. It was the truth. Almost. Dalton had paid Kay to hide the passport, but Ash had found it and Kay had been thrown out of the house. Now he’d have to tell the rest of it.

  “I’m in here,” Ilya called.

  Dalton closed the entrance door and walked into the lounge.

  “Sit down,” Ilya snapped.

  Dalton dropped onto the couch, regretting he’d reacted so fast as his bum hit the seat. Like an obedient dog. Shit.

  Ilya tapped his fingers on the arm of the chair. “I had a call from a friend of mine who did the interview with Sandra McKinnock while Noah took the photographs. According to Valentina, Noah was in a filthy mood this morning and in an even filthier mood when he got off the Eurostar a little while ago. Fortunately, he was charm personified while he was with the American and was the only one there who managed to persuade the baby to stop crying. Valentina couldn’t get much out of Noah, but she did discover Ash had flown back to the UK early this morning.”

  Fuck. All that effort for nothing? Dalton wondered if he’d be able to keep his part in this quiet.

  Ilya picked up a tumbler holding what looked like scotch and drank the last mouthful. Dalton barely stopped himself licking his lips.

  “The bad news is that Noah was carrying a box Valentina thinks held a designer dress, a large box, which suggests evening wear, implying Noah intends or intended to bring Ash to the ball. Not going to happen.”