Jilly’s hands flew to her head. ‘No!’ she gasped. ‘No, no, no!’
‘Oh, my poor lambs!’ Liza cried on a sob, and held out her arms. Abby ran to her, hurling herself against the familiar body, but Jilly and Cal stood immobile, ashen-faced.
‘This,’ Cal said distinctly, ‘isn’t happening. Please say it isn’t.’
The policeman came forward and took his arm. ‘Sit down, sonny. You’ve had a nasty shock.’
Cal shook him off. ‘It’s not true – is it? Not Mum?’ He stared beseechingly at Liza, but her distress was answer enough. She wouldn’t have wept for Harold. Cal suddenly crumpled to the floor, hands linked behind his bowed head. Jilly dropped down and held him to her, as the two of them rocked backwards and forwards in an agony of grief.
The police officers watched them helplessly for a moment, then, taking control, raised them gently to their feet. ‘We’ll run you all home,’ Sue said.
Somehow, the hours passed. Since Liza was still distraught, the police officers stayed on, making hot, sweet tea as they all sat, frozen with shock, round the kitchen table.
‘Your aunt and uncle are on their way,’ Liza said at one point, mopping her eyes. ‘It must have been providence made Mr Firbank leave his pyjamas.’
And, at their blank faces, she explained about Pam’s call, giving their address. ‘Otherwise, with them touring Scotland, we’d have had no way of contacting them.’
Finally bracing herself, Jilly asked fearfully, ‘What caused the crash? Does anyone know?’
The policeman shook his head. ‘Too early to say. There’ll be an investigation, but it seems no other vehicle was involved. The car took a corner fairly fast, then must have spun out of control. It veered into a wall, bounced off it across the road on to the grass verge, and – turned over on to its roof.’
He hesitated, looking at four horrified faces and wondering if he’d said too much. They’d a right to know, though. He added gently, ‘It all happened very quickly. They – wouldn’t have suffered.’
Cal stood up abruptly. ‘If you don’t mind, we’d like to be alone for a while,’ he said, his voice cracking. ‘We’ll be down the garden if you need us.’
Liza made a protesting gesture, but without glancing at the adults, the three children quickly left the room.
Once in the privacy of the enclosure, they instinctively held on to each other in a closed circle, all of them trembling.
‘We killed Mummy!’ Abby sobbed.
‘It was an accident,’ Cal said harshly. ‘The police said so.’
‘But we made it happen!’
‘No! The gravel couldn’t have caused it.’
‘You said it wasn’t dangerous,’ Jilly accused him through her tears.
‘It wasn’t. It shouldn’t have been. Something else must have happened.’
‘Perhaps we should—’
‘No! That’s why we came down here – I thought one of you might blurt something out.’
Cal disentangled himself from his sisters’ arms, felt in his pocket, and extracted a penknife.
‘Nothing we say can help Mum now,’ he said unsteadily, ‘but in case they try to blame us, we must never breathe a word of what we did.’
The girls watched him wide-eyed as he made a small cut in his finger, and a bright spot of blood oozed out. ‘Give me your hand, Jilly.’
Jilly recoiled. ‘So you can cut me? Not on your life!’
‘We have to do this.’ Cal spoke in a low, urgent voice, and although she was the elder, she sensed his authority. ‘We have to mingle our blood and swear on pain of death that as long as we live, we will never breathe a word of what happened. For as long as we live!’ he repeated forcefully.
Reluctantly, first Jilly, then Abby received a nick. Then, under Cal’s direction, they placed their fingers together, moving them gently so that the blood of all three intermingled.
‘Now, repeat after me: “I swear I will never tell anyone what we did last night.”’
The two girls did so.
Cal wiped his penknife down the side of his shorts and replaced it in his pocket. ‘Remember that’s a binding oath,’ he said solemnly. ‘Blood is thicker than water.’
The diversion over, Abby burst into a storm of tears. ‘I want my Mummy!’ she sobbed. And as the enormity of their loss overcame them, they huddled together, seeking a comfort none of them could give.
Once they’d absorbed Liza’s terrible and incoherent call, Pam and Stephen were faced with choices that would change their lives.
‘There’s really only one course,’ Stephen said, as they hastily repacked their cases. ‘We must adopt them.’
And Pam, her tears starting again, flung her arms round him. ‘Oh darling, I was praying you’d say that!’
So, heavy-hearted and unsure how the children would respond, they returned to the house by the lake.
Pam, who had always loved the house, could now scarcely bear to be in it. She’d felt Simon’s presence on her last visit; now, there were two beloved ghosts, hovering just outside her line of vision. And adding to her unease was the reaction of the children. Though clearly devastated, they were proving resistant to her attempts at comfort, spending most of their time by themselves down the garden. In another world, she and Beth had watched them retreat there from the top of the scar. United we stand, she’d suggested then. Perhaps the same thing applied.
As soon as they felt it appropriate, she and Stephen had broached the idea of adoption.
‘It would be so wonderful for us to have you,’ Pam had ended. ‘You know we’ve always loved you. So what do you say? Would you like to come and live with us?’
Abby’s lip trembled. ‘We wouldn’t have to call you Mummy, would we?’
‘Oh darling, of course not! I could never be that. We’ll still be Auntie Pam and Uncle Stephen, like we’ve always been.’
The children glanced briefly at each other. Then Jilly said tonelessly, ‘All right. Thank you.’
And that, it seemed, was that.
Pam related the decision to Liza.
‘There’s no way they can go on living here,’ she said. ‘Nearly every day, they’d pass the place where their mother died – not to mention the lake that claimed their father. They know our home, and already have a few friends from when they’ve stayed with us. We’re hoping it will give them a fresh start.’
She looked at the red-eyed woman across the table, and impulsively reached for her hand. ‘How selfish of me, Liza! I’ve never asked what you’re going to do. This has been your home, too.’
‘I’ll go to my friend Cora,’ Liza replied. ‘Her son’s about to open a restaurant in France, and she’s moving out there to help him. She’s asked me to go with her, and I’ve offered to put some capital into the business.’ Her eyes filled with tears. ‘I’m hoping for a fresh start, too.’
‘You know you’ll always be welcome to visit us,’ Pam said.
‘Thank you, that’s very kind. Perhaps, when some of the healing has taken place, I’ll do that. When – how soon will you all be going?’
‘As soon as the funeral’s over. The police will keep in touch about the investigation, but they don’t need us to stay. The house’ll go on the market, of course; if there’s any little thing you’d like as a keepsake, please feel free to take it.’ She hesitated. ‘I’m in no position to know how children cope with grief, but doesn’t it strike you that they’re rather – withdrawn?’
Liza nodded. ‘I’ve been worried about them from the word go. Of course—’ She broke off, then went on rather diffidently, ‘they didn’t particularly care for Mr Sheridan, I’m afraid. I’m wondering if they somehow blame him for the crash.’
‘That could be it,’ Pam agreed, with a feeling of relief. ‘Well, they say time’s a great healer. We’ll just have to hope that’s true.’
So the funeral was held in the little church down the road, which was filled to capacity. There was an unreal quality about the day that helped Pam exper
ience it from a distance, maintaining the self-control she’d been so afraid of losing. Afterwards, only a few disparate memories remained lodged in her mind – the sun shining on to the coffins at the chancel steps as though bestowing blessing; the continuous, silent weeping of the girls and Cal’s stony face; the piercing sweetness of the hymns.
There was added poignancy in that Beth was buried not with Harold but in the same grave as Simon, whom they had laid to rest two brief years ago. Pam, glancing at Harold’s sister and her husband, wondered if they’d been prepared for that, but their faces gave nothing away. The sun was warm on their backs, the soil flung into the graves dry and crumbly. And across the road on the blindingly blue lake, boats sailed and children shouted, as though it were just another summer day. Which, perhaps, was as it should be. It was a cliché that life went on, but one they had to cling to.
During the next few weeks, the new order gradually took shape. The Lodge went on the market complete with most of its contents, and sold almost at once. In Surrey, the children were enrolled into a new school, which they’d start in September, only weeks remaining of the summer term. And the adoption procedure was initiated. Over supper one evening, Stephen casually suggested it might be easier if they took the name Firbank – a point he and Pam had agonized over – and to their relieved surprise, there was no protest.
‘We have no one left called Poole,’ Cal remarked, ‘so why not?’
It seemed a cold-blooded reaction, but Pam was grateful for it nonetheless. Meanwhile, Abby rode daily, Jilly joined the tennis club and Cal struck up a friendship with the boy next door, who was much the same age. Pam and Stephen were just allowing themselves to breathe more easily when another blow fell.
It was Pam who answered the phone, one evening as she was preparing dinner.
‘Mrs Firbank? This is Detective Inspector Hargreaves, of the Cumbria Constabulary.’
‘Detective Inspector?’ Pam repeated, frowning.
‘That’s right, ma’am. There’s been a development in the investigation into the deaths of your sister and her husband. It appears a foreign substance had been added to the vehicle’s hydraulic fluid chamber.’
Pam stood stock-still, her hand gripping the receiver. ‘A foreign substance?’
She must stop repeating what he said.
‘Some kind of gravel, or shale, that caused a blockage in the pipes. A witness stated that Mr Sheridan drove past him, taking the corner ahead without slowing down. If he’d belatedly tried to do so, he’d realize the brakes weren’t responding, pump the pedal, then yank the handbrake, causing the rear wheels to lock. By the time the witness rounded the corner, the car had ricocheted off the wall and overturned on the far side of the road.’
‘But how could this – shale – have got into the pipes in the first place?’
‘That, madam, is what we’re trying to ascertain.’
Pam gasped as a new and horrifying possibility took shape. ‘You’re not saying it was put in deliberately?’
‘On the evidence, it would seem so.’
‘But that’s just not possible! It must have been when the car overturned on the grass.’
‘That possibility was examined, and, I’m afraid, discarded.’
‘You mean someone deliberately tried to kill them?’ Pam’s voice rose hysterically, and Stephen, coming into the house at that point, hurried over to her, incredulous horror on his face.
‘Possibly not to kill them,’ Hargreaves replied, ‘but certainly to cause an accident.’
‘But who—?’
Stephen took the phone from her hand, swiftly identified himself, and listened intently to what the detective was saying.
Pam, watching his face, saw him frown. ‘Is that really necessary? They’re just beginning to settle down, and . . . Yes, I see. Very well. No, they’re not attending school at the moment. Yes, of course. Two thirty tomorrow? Very well, I’ll prepare them.’
He put the phone down and turned to his wife.
‘They’re not going to interview the children?’ she whispered.
‘Just ask if they heard or saw anything suspicious the previous evening. Harold had driven the car that day, and it had been fine then.’
‘Oh, Stephen, why do they have to rake it all up again?’
‘It’s a serious allegation, darling. If they can nail someone for this, they could be facing a murder charge.’ He glanced at her stricken face, and added, ‘Someone from the local police will be round tomorrow.’
Pam sat down suddenly on the stair, looking whitely up at him. ‘You don’t seriously think someone wanted to kill Beth?’
‘Not Beth, no, but she didn’t normally go out with Harold, did she? If her battery hadn’t been flat, she’d have used her own car.’
‘So he was the target?’
‘If this was a deliberate act, it seems possible.’
She shook her head. ‘This is a nightmare.’
‘I agree. And I’m not looking forward to telling the children.’
The following afternoon, a plain-clothes man and woman came to interview them. The three children sat side by side on the sofa, as expressionless as a row of wooden dummies, Pam thought, frightened for them. She noticed they were all holding hands, and felt her heart contract.
‘Did you know anyone who had a grudge against either of your parents?’ the woman, who’d introduced herself as Sarah, began.
‘He wasn’t our parent,’ Cal said stiffly. ‘And no one ever had a grudge against Mum.’
‘Your stepfather, then?’ Sarah pursued.
‘A lot of people didn’t like him,’ Jilly said.
‘Anyone in particular?’
She shrugged.
‘The housekeeper, for instance?’
‘You can’t possibly suspect Liza,’ Cal said scornfully. ‘She doesn’t know anything about cars.’
The male officer intervened for the first time. ‘Do you?’ he asked.
Cal stared at him, a small pulse beating at the corner of his eye. ‘What?’
‘Do you know much about cars?’
‘Not really.’
‘About brake fluid, for instance?’
Cal’s hand tightened fractionally on Jilly’s. ‘Is it what makes the brakes work?’
‘Do you know where it’s located?’
Cal shrugged. ‘Under the bonnet?’ Then, meeting the policeman’s eye, he added, ‘Actually, I’m more interested in boats.’
Sarah picked up the questioning. ‘Was anyone else at the house that evening?’
‘Only the gardener,’ Jilly said after a minute.
‘Did he get on with Mr Sheridan?’
Abby looked suddenly frightened. ‘Spencer’s always worked for us, for as long as I can remember.’
‘When your father was alive?’
She nodded.
‘And did he like your stepfather?’
Abby dropped her eyes and did not reply. After several more minutes of unproductive questioning, the children were allowed to leave the room.
Stephen asked with a frown, ‘What’s this about the gardener?’
‘Just following a line of enquiry, sir,’ Sarah replied, as she and her companion rose to their feet. ‘Thank you for your time. You will, of course, be advised of any developments, and in the meantime, if the children remember anything, however unimportant it might seem, do please contact us.’
A few days later, news reached them that Jack Spencer had been arrested on suspicion of double murder.
Pam broke it to the children as gently as possible, but was not surprised when they retreated to the paddock, their replacement for the play area.
Abby was the first to speak. ‘We have to tell them!’ she cried. ‘We can’t let poor Spencer take the blame! And it was the gravel, Cal! We did kill them!’
‘Shut up, Abby!’ Cal said fiercely. ‘Don’t be daft – of course we can’t tell them.’
‘Well, I will!’ Abby said wildly. ‘I—’
Cal seized he
r wrist in a grip that made her cry out. ‘Oh no, you won’t! Have you forgotten the oath we swore with our blood?’
She stared at him, frightened. ‘But that was when we didn’t think it was our fault!’
‘It was still an oath, and it still holds. Anyway, Spencer didn’t do it, so they can’t prove he did. They’ll have to let him go.’
Abby subsided a little. ‘Are you sure?’
‘’Course. Stands to reason.’
Abby turned to her sister. ‘What do you think, Jilly?’
Jilly, who’d initially panicked when she heard the news, said slowly, ‘I agree with Cal. They’ll have to let Spencer go. All we need do is sit tight.’
‘The children have changed,’ Pam said a little sadly, a week or so later. ‘They’ve grown up too soon and too quickly.’
‘That’s what bereavement does,’ Stephen replied.
‘And another thing: you know how close they were, around the time of the accident? That seems to have changed; they don’t spend so much time together now.’
‘Well, it was the tragedy that brought them together; they never struck me before as being particularly close. Perhaps it’s a sign things are reverting to normal.’
‘But Jilly’s even saying she’d like to board when school starts. Did she tell you?’
‘No, that’s the first I’ve heard of it; but provided there’s a vacancy, there’s no reason why she shouldn’t. They’ve accepted her, after all; she’d only have to switch from being a day girl.’
‘It’s as though she doesn’t want to be with the rest of us,’ Pam said forlornly.
Stephen put an arm round her. ‘I’m sure it’s not that, sweetheart. She needs to find her feet, that’s all, and if she thinks this would help, we can’t deny her the chance.’
The item was at the foot of the front page, and it was Jilly who, having retrieved the newspaper from the mat, was the first to see it.
Pam looked up sharply at her strangled gasp. ‘What is it, darling?’
When she didn’t reply, the rest of them crowded round, peering over her shoulder. CUMBRIA DOUBLE-MURDER SUSPECT FOUND HANGED IN CELL, they read.
Jack Spencer, 49, on remand for the murders of Elizabeth and Harold Sheridan, was found hanging in his cell last night, despite the suicide watch that was being kept on him.
Thicker Than Water Page 22