The Little One [Quick Read 2012]

by Lynda La Plante

  ‘They’re showing all the old clips from the show on the news reports. I hope for your sake you didn’t have anything to do with her suicide.’

  Chapter Twelve

  Barbara unpacked the few things she’d brought with her and lay down on the single bed. She’d made no mention of the will. There had been no opportunity as they sat watching the television news about Margaret. Alan had become very distressed and had broken down in tears.

  At six o’clock she heard the doorbell ring. Shortly after, Alan knocked on the box-room door.

  ‘There are two police officers downstairs. They want to talk to you.’

  Detective Inspector John Douglas introduced himself as Barbara entered the kitchen. A female detective, Angela Collins, was with him. She shook Barbara’s hand and they took their seats at the kitchen table. Alan and Kevin hovered and Barbara wished they would leave them in private.

  She told the detectives everything she could about Margaret.

  ‘So you went back to the manor house yesterday evening?’ asked Douglas.

  ‘Yes. I just said so.’

  ‘Did anyone see you arrive?’

  ‘I suppose the ticket collector might remember seeing me.’

  There was a pause and then Detective Inspector Douglas nodded to his companion, who continued.

  ‘So Miss Reynolds gave you permission to return there, did she?’

  Barbara hesitated and then nodded. Alan glanced at Kevin, knowing this was not exactly true, as she’d tried to stay with them.

  The female detective asked how Barbara thought Miss Reynolds appeared. ‘Did she seem distressed? Nervous? Show any signs that she intended to kill herself?’

  ‘No, she was very relaxed. She said she would be seeing her solicitor.’

  Now Detective Inspector Douglas resumed. They knew from Mr Sullivan that she’d gone to his office that afternoon. Barbara nodded, glancing at Alan and Kevin.

  ‘Yes, I kept the appointment at three fifteen.’

  ‘Did you see Miss Reynolds after that meeting?’

  ‘No. I came here and then caught the seven fifteen train.’

  ‘So you never saw her again?’

  ‘No, I didn’t.’

  ‘You’re sure about that?’

  ‘Yes, I’m sure. In fact, I went there because I presumed that she’d returned home.’

  ‘She didn’t call you or try to get in touch with you?’

  ‘No.’

  Detective Inspector Douglas then dropped his bombshell.

  ‘You see, Miss Hardy, we have to make certain that it was a tragic accident, or suicide, rather than murder.’

  Barbara turned to Alan and back to the detectives.

  ‘I don’t understand. From the news, it seems she committed suicide. She jumped in front of the tube train, didn’t she?’

  Neither detective replied. Instead, they studied their notebooks.

  ‘Was it not an accident, then?’ Barbara asked.

  Without replying to her question, Detective Inspector Douglas asked Barbara if she had found a letter of any kind at the manor house. Barbara answered that she had not.

  ‘So, Miss Hardy, when Miss Reynolds was at the tube station in London, you were heading for the manor house?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘You were not at the tube station?’

  ‘No. I’ve already told you I was on the train.’

  Detective Inspector Douglas snapped his notebook closed, as if the interview was over. But it wasn’t.

  ‘You see, we have to question anyone who might benefit from Miss Reynolds’s death.’

  Alan and Kevin looked confused.

  ‘And you are Miss Reynolds’s main beneficiary.’

  Alan’s jaw dropped.

  ‘What? She couldn’t be! She hardly knew her!’

  ‘Nevertheless, yesterday morning Miss Reynolds altered her will to name Miss Hardy as her heir. That same afternoon, Miss Hardy, you met with Mr Sullivan, who told you about the will. Isn’t that right?’

  Shaking, Barbara nodded.

  ‘Yes. But I had no idea of her intentions. She’d said nothing to me.’

  Kevin stared at the detectives.

  ‘Is this true? Did Margaret really change her will the same day that she died?’

  Detective Inspector Douglas nodded, keeping his eyes on Barbara.

  ‘We have a witness who was standing not far from Miss Reynolds at the tube station. She claims that Miss Reynolds was waiting very close to the edge of the platform. It looked to her, from the way that Miss Reynolds jerked forward on to the line just as the train arrived, as if someone pushed her.’

  ‘Did this witness see someone behind Margaret?’ demanded Kevin.

  ‘That’s unclear. The platform wasn’t crowded and it appears that no one was standing close to her,’ Detective Inspector Douglas said.

  ‘Then why does she say Margaret was pushed?’ Alan asked.

  Apparently the witness thought Margaret was pushed in the small of her back and fell forward, unable to stop herself. They were waiting for CCTV footage to see if there was anything to confirm this.

  The detectives thanked Barbara for her cooperation and asked if she would be staying with her friends in case they wished to talk to her again.

  Barbara glanced at Alan and Kevin, saying that if she wasn’t at this address she could be contacted on her mobile.

  As soon as the detectives left, Kevin confronted Barbara.

  ‘You really are a piece of work.’

  He sat in the same chair Detective Inspector Douglas had used.

  ‘Right, Barbara, start talking, and the truth this time. Why did Margaret make you her beneficiary so shortly after meeting you?’

  Barbara shook her head, saying it was exactly as she’d told the detectives.

  ‘She never talked to you about it?’ Alan asked.

  ‘No. And to be honest, I thought she was behaving strangely the night before. But when we got on the train she seemed fine. It never occurred to me that she was even thinking about suicide.’

  She started to cry and Kevin leaned across the table in barely controlled fury.

  ‘Bit late for tears, isn’t it? Just what did you do?’

  Barbara wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand. She swore she hadn’t known about the will until she met Sullivan.

  ‘I couldn’t make it out. He asked me to sign all these papers. I even told him that it was ridiculous.’

  ‘You must have done something,’ Alan insisted.

  Barbara hesitated, then took a deep breath.

  ‘If you must know, the previous night I really did think she was unbalanced.’

  Kevin and Alan waited. Gradually Barbara told them about the time she’d spent at the manor house. She explained that she was certain someone else was living there, that Margaret constantly talked to someone but she’d never seen them.

  ‘She would lock me in the kitchen. I would hear her talking and playing the piano upstairs. It was really starting to freak me out. I wondered if her husband had survived the helicopter crash or if it was her sister, or her sister’s little girl. I was really scared … and the lights kept going off.’

  ‘You’ve got a vivid imagination,’ Kevin said, shaking his head in disgust.

  ‘I really thought she needed to see a shrink. She brought out this awful Bible, asking me to swear on it that I would never tell anyone what she was going to tell me.’

  ‘Go on,’ Kevin said.

  ‘It was mad … something about taking care of her sister’s child. But then she told me the girl was dead. She said she was scared to tell anyone because she thought they’d put her back into some mental institution.’

  She paused.

  ‘There’s also something else.’

  Barbara felt extremely uneasy repeating it, thinking that it might have been the trigger that made Margaret jump in front of the tube.

  ‘She told me her sister had admitted as she was dying that she and Armande had been
lovers.’

  ‘I don’t believe that for a second,’ Alan said furiously, and began pacing around the kitchen. ‘I’ve never seen two people more in love. He wouldn’t have betrayed Margaret, and especially not with her sister. It’s all lies.’

  Barbara became angry.

  ‘I’m only telling you what Margaret told me.’

  Alan banged the table with his hand.

  ‘You’re making this up! You just want to get that article written now that Margaret is dead and can’t sue.’

  ‘I’m not making it up,’ Barbara cried.

  Kevin jumped up now and the pair of them faced Barbara.

  ‘If you dare print a word of this …’

  Now Barbara stood up too in a fury.

  ‘I’m not writing it. That’s the truth.’

  Alan gave her a look of such disapproval that she felt like bursting into tears again.

  ‘You know what I think? As Margaret’s heir, you won’t need to write tripe for anyone ever again, because she must have left a fortune.’

  Kevin joined in.

  ‘I think you blackmailed her into changing her will.’

  ‘I DID NOT,’ Barbara shouted back.

  ‘When the police asked you how Margaret was, you said she was relaxed and happy. Now you tell us she was unbalanced. Why didn’t you say that to the police?’

  Barbara clenched her hands into fists.

  ‘Because I told them the truth. She did seem fine and happy, as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders.’

  Kevin leaned very close, his voice quiet and threatening.

  ‘You had a big motive to push her in front of the tube. I hope you were telling the truth, Barbara. If they find out that you not only lied about Margaret’s state of mind but were also somewhere near when she fell—’

  ‘I was on the train going to the manor house!’

  ‘Then for your sake I hope they’re able to prove it.’

  Chapter Thirteen

  Barbara had nowhere else to stay but at Alan and Kevin’s, even though they didn’t want her there. She did make a half-hearted attempt to find somewhere else, but she felt so depressed she couldn’t face getting out of bed. They virtually ignored her, behaving as if she wasn’t there.

  Detective Inspector Douglas got in touch to inform her that the CCTV footage had shown no one close to Margaret, even if it did seem as if she was pushed forward. They had therefore decided that Margaret committed suicide.

  Alan was contacted by Mr Sullivan to discuss the funeral arrangements. He was taken aback to learn that Margaret had left precise instructions about what was to happen in the event of her death. She had made a list of the close friends she wanted to be at the service and she asked to be buried beside her husband. She had left a considerable sum of money to cover the costs.

  As soon as Alan heard this, he realized that Margaret had planned everything. Tragically, she really had intended to kill herself.

  He got in touch with the cast of Harwood House and told them about the funeral. Barbara’s name was not included on the list. Both Alan and Kevin still believed that she had tipped Margaret over the edge, if not the edge of the station platform, then of her sanity.

  Barbara had asked Mr Sullivan if he could release some of the money left to her, but he had told her coldly that it would take time.

  So, without funds, Barbara really had no option but to remain in Kingston, with Alan and Kevin.

  The day of the funeral was overcast. Barbara stayed in the box room, seething with anger. She decided that she would do as requested and not go to the service. However, she did wonder about going to the grave. She might do that, even if it meant standing some distance away from everyone else.

  Kevin knocked on her door and came in to tell her that they were leaving. She shrugged. He didn’t bother to ask if she was all right. She turned away from him, frowning in agitation.

  ‘I won’t be here when you get back.’

  He raised his eyebrows.

  ‘I’ll go to the manor house, seeing as it’s rightfully mine now. Besides, it’s obvious I’m not welcome here.’

  ‘Whatever you want. It has always been that way with you anyway.’

  He closed the door behind him and joined Alan downstairs.

  ‘It’s all right. She’s not coming.’

  Alan hesitated.

  ‘Did you tell her?’

  ‘No. Why should I? It’s got nothing to do with her.’

  Barbara watched them leave. Then, turning away from the window, she began to pack her suitcase. She was checking to make sure she’d left nothing behind when the telephone rang. By the time she picked up the receiver it had gone on to voicemail.

  It felt odd to hear the sound of Mike Phillips’s voice again.

  ‘Kevin, just wondering how soon you’ll be able to get the funeral pictures to me. Plenty of shots of the actors at the graveside, yes? And tell Alan I’ll need his article as soon as possible. I want lots of stuff about his time working with Margaret.’

  ‘You two-faced bastard,’ Barbara hissed.

  The call made up her mind: she would definitely go to the cemetery.

  Beside Margaret’s open grave, next to the one holding her beloved Armande, was the headstone for her sister, Julia. There were fresh white lilies in an ornate vase there, but on the stone there was no mention of her young daughter.

  Barbara took up her position, hiding behind a large marble angel. Margaret’s funeral procession was heading through the cemetery gates. The hearse was covered in hundreds of lilies.

  She watched all the actors following the hearse. She could see Kevin turn to wag his finger at a number of photographers. As he headed back to the others, he had to pass within feet of Barbara.

  He was shocked when she dived out from behind the angel.

  ‘I know what you’re doing. You disgust me. All the fuss about me writing about Margaret and you’re doing it yourself.’

  He took hold of her arm.

  ‘Let go of me,’ she shouted.

  Everyone turned as Kevin pushed her away. She stumbled and fell, bursting into tears. She remained curled up on the ground.

  As the coffin was slowly lowered into the grave, the minister began to read from his Bible.

  People threw furtive glances towards Barbara as she got to her feet, dusting down her skirt. Then it happened.

  At first Barbara was unsure. Maybe she had touched the cold marble angel. But that was some distance away. Then she felt it, a small icy-cold hand holding hers. She tried to shake it away.

  ‘Can we go home now?’

  The voice was highpitched, like a child’s. She felt the tiny cold hand grip tightly, pulling her forward. Barbara’s heart began to pound in her chest.

  ‘Go away,’ she said, trying to release her hand.

  ‘No, I won’t. You promised to take care of me.’

  Barbara wondered if she was going mad. This couldn’t be happening.

  The little voice continued, ‘Your suitcase. Pick up your suitcase.’

  Barbara snatched it up and the child broke free. She saw her then. It was Emily, the little girl in the photograph at the manor house.

  Barbara glanced towards the mourners. Could they see the child? But they were all turned towards the grave as the minister closed his Bible.

  ‘Ashes to ashes. Dust to dust.’

  No sooner than the image of Emily materialized, it faded. Barbara ran from the cemetery. Her heart was still pounding as she hurried past the gathered reporters.

  Felicity watched Barbara’s hasty exit and said quietly to Alan, ‘I’ve just had a really strange flashback. Real déjà vu.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I was here with Margaret when she buried her sister and something very peculiar happened. Margaret was standing next to me and suddenly she was really freaked out. I wasn’t sure what to do. She started talking loudly and behaving oddly. Then she turned and ran away.’

  ‘Well, it’s understan
dable. First her husband and then her sister, and wasn’t her young niece also killed in the accident?’

  ‘Yes, but she never came back for drinks at my house. I’d arranged for everyone to be there. She returned to the manor house and I didn’t really see her again until we all went there last month.’

  Felicity held on to Alan’s arm.

  ‘It’s funny. She never put the little one’s name on her sister’s grave. Emily, I think it was.’

  Alan was not really listening to her any longer. He was eager to keep up as people began to leave.

  ‘The way Barbara behaved just then, shaking her hand. That was exactly how Margaret acted. And that was the last we saw of her.’

  Barbara was still very shaken when she caught a bus to Waterloo. But by now she was certain that she’d imagined it. She must have become wound up about not being invited to the service.

  Standing on the platform, she became so agitated that people round about kept their distance. As the train came into the station, she began to panic, muttering and talking aloud to herself. She suddenly recalled the moment when she’d been at the manor house and had felt someone pushing her down the stairs.

  She tried to remember exactly what the detective had said. That a witness was sure Margaret had been pushed under the train. But that wasn’t possible, as no one was standing close enough.

  Barbara took deep breaths in an effort to calm herself. Passengers were shooting wary glances in her direction.

  She shouted, ‘What are you looking at me for?’

  As the train pulled out, she literally jumped when her mobile rang.

  It was Mr Sullivan to say that if she required immediate funds he would be able to release a few thousand pounds.

  ‘Thank you. That would be really helpful. In fact, I hope it’s all right but I’m on my way to the manor house now.’

  Mr Sullivan ummed and ahhed, but eventually said it would be fine.

  Barbara paused. ‘One more thing. I was so stunned at the time I don’t really remember. As well as the house, exactly how much money will I inherit?’

  ‘Miss Reynolds had accounts containing around three-quarters of a million pounds.’

  ‘Three-quarters of a million,’ she breathed.

  By the time the train pulled into the local station, it was getting dark. Barbara was very buoyant, smiling at the ticket collector as she made her way out to the car park. The Land Rover was where she had left it, keys hidden away as before.