Devil in Disguise

by Julian Clary

  ‘She’s ordered me to leave. She wants everything for herself —my career, my husband, my house, even my children. I’m supposed to resume her old life in her cottage in Long Buckby in some kind of sick swap. I have one last Christmas in my home, and then I must go.’

  Simon was shocked. ‘But that’s crazy! She’s in her eighties —what makes her think she can possibly have your career? Not to mention the idea that Rupert might find her in the slightest bit attractive. You’re right, Molly, she’s gone mad. Mad and dangerous, from the sound of it. She should be sectioned.’

  Molly said nothing but stared at her steering-wheel. At last she muttered, ‘No. I have to do as she says.’

  ‘Why? She’s a nutter. Throw her out. Call the police and have her removed.’

  Molly sighed again. ‘There’s something you don’t understand. She has a hold over me because of something I did. Something you don’t know about.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Do you remember that night you were beaten up on the South Bank?’

  ‘Of course. I followed that dream under the bridge and it all turned nasty, but you scared him off after he stole my cash and my St Christopher. What of it?’

  Molly looked at him with frightened eyes and said, in a stumbling voice, ‘Well … it wasn’t just a case of pulling him off you and him running away. He was sitting on you, beating you viciously, he was about to kill you and so… so…’

  Simon felt a chill crawl over him. ‘So what, Molly?’

  When she spoke, it was in low, quiet voice. ‘There were some bits of rubble under the bridge. I picked up a brick, ran at him and hit him with all my strength. I was terrified, panicking, sure he was going to kill you. All I knew was that I had to make him stop, but I must have hit him very hard, or at some weak spot on his skull because he got up, and it looked like there was jammy rice pudding running down his face. It was so unreal, I could hardly believe it was happening, but as I watched he staggered over to the water and fell in. Within a few moments, he’d vanished under the surface. I was in shock. I didn’t know what to do so I sat there crying and shaking until I managed to gather my wits. Then I dropped the brick into the river and went to your side. You looked terrible and I thought you were dead but suddenly you began to gurgle and sat up. I got you home somehow and the next day, once we’d sobered up, we spent the afternoon in A and E, where you were eventually patched up. That’s what really happened that night. I know I should have gone to the police and explained how it happened, how I didn’t mean him to die, but I was too much of a coward. I thought they’d never believe me, and I’d be locked away for the rest of my life.’ Molly covered her face with her hands. ‘So I shut it away inside my head and tried and tried to forget all about it. But it’s haunted me ever since!’

  ‘You saved my life. You never told me.’ Simon touched his forehead. ‘I still bear the scars. But why are you telling me now?’

  Molly looked desperate. ‘Lilia knows. She gave me a pill the night I arrived there, after you and Daniel … that night. She knows what I did, and this morning she confronted me with it. I was so shocked and upset, I blabbed out what I’ve just told you. She was recording it all, of course. If I don’t do as she says, she’s going to the police.’

  ‘Dear old-fashioned blackmail,’ said Simon, with a hollow laugh. ‘Bette Davis would bite your hand off for this role. Can we buy her off?’

  Molly shook her head. ‘She doesn’t want money. She wants nothing less than my life, to shut me away like the man in the iron mask.’

  ‘No,’ said Simon decisively. ‘She can’t get away with this.’

  ‘There’s nothing I can do,’ said Molly. ‘Talking about it now, I don’t understand how I let it happen. I had no idea she was so dangerous.’

  Simon clenched his fists with rage. ‘You felt sorry for her. For people like Lilia compassion is a sign of weakness. A tool they use to their evil advantage.’ Simon thought hard, plans and schemes whirling about his now clear, free-thinking head. ‘Right. We have to be business-like about this. We have two things to achieve. The first is to persuade Lilia to go away. The second is to make sure she doesn’t have that recording or you’ll never be able to rest easy.’

  ‘How on earth are we going to do that?’ Molly turned huge, tear-filled eyes on him. ‘She’s holding all the cards. The only reason I dared to come out and see you is because she’s convinced I won’t tell another soul about all this.’

  ‘Yes,’ Simon said thoughtfully. He was acutely aware that his dearest friend was on the point of meltdown. ‘She really believes you’re still the meek, submissive Molly who did everything she wanted for all those years. That can work to our advantage.’ He grasped her hands and looked her straight in the face. ‘My darling Molly, I’m so much in your debt it’s hard to know where to begin.

  Now I know I owe you my very life. Relax. You can be sure I won’t let that vile old woman succeed in robbing you of everything you care about.’

  ‘But how can we stop her?’

  ‘I don’t know yet. But I’m sure she has a weakness, something we can exploit. I may need to go back to Kit-Kat Cottage and see what else I can find. Lilia is hiding something, I’m sure of it. I will stop her, though, I promise. The important thing is that you go home and don’t arouse her suspicions. Make her think you’ve realised you have to obey her orders. Don’t let her suspect that you’ve told me.’

  ‘I won’t. I’m sure she believes I’d be far too frightened of risking all this coming out. At the very least, she would tell Rupert what I did.’

  ‘Can’t Rupert help us? Can we confide in him? He loves you, doesn’t he?’

  ‘He did.’ Molly looked close to tears again. ‘But I daren’t say anything to him. Lilia has poisoned his mind against me so effectively that I’m sure if he ever learned about what I did, it would destroy our marriage for good. She’s been so fiendish at laying the groundwork that I’ll condemn myself out of my own mouth no matter what I say. I can’t believe I’ve let Lilia do this —we used to be so. strong! And now he thinks I’m capable of anything’

  Simon gave her a sympathetic look. ‘Don’t worry, Molly. You’ll get it all back — your home, your life, and your husband. I promise. I’ll use the time between now and Christmas to work out what must be done.’

  ‘You’re my only hope,’ said Molly.

  ‘I won’t let you down.’

  She began to sob quietly. ‘Thank you, Simon, thank you.’

  ‘Don’t be silly. It’s the least I can do. It’ll be fun spoiling that evil old trout’s scheme.’ He smiled at her.

  ‘I’m sorry, bringing all this trouble to you when you have your own problems… your health…’

  ‘Don’t be silly — I’m getting rosier-cheeked by the day. My liver’s making a spectacular comeback.’

  ‘But I’m scared. Lilia’s so formidable.’

  ‘My dear girl, so am I. But true bravery comes naturally to the homosexual. Think about it: Stonewall, civil rights, anal sex. Now, before we part it’s important that you tell me everything you can remember about your time with Lilia, starting at the very beginning…’

  In accordance with Simon’s instructions, Molly returned home and pretended she was willing to go along with Lilia’s plans: yes, she surrendered. She had no choice. She would go on Boxing Day as suggested and, no, she would not make a fuss. All she wanted was to spend a happy last Christmas with everyone.

  ‘I’m so glad you’ve seen sense,’ Lilia said. ‘Such a bright girl. There is no need for all this to end nastily, after all.’

  It was torture for Molly, as Lilia began to take over more and more of her life. She was no longer allowed to get the boys up or put them to bed, and she had to pretend she had little interest in them. Before and after dinner, she had to leave Lilia and Rupert alone, shut out of their discussions.

  It was difficult to remain hopeful. Rupert grew colder and colder as, under Lilia’s instructions, Molly stopped communicating w
ith him and the boys. She could see her husband was hurt by her growing remoteness and the way she no longer seemed to care for her children, but she didn’t dare disobey her orders. It pained her deeply to think what must be going on in his head and what he must think of her. Was he already contemplating divorce? Was his love for her dying as a result of Lilia’s malevolent machinations? Sometimes, when they were alone at night, she longed to confide in him and explain the real reasons for her behaviour but she couldn’t risk it. One false move and she might lose everything. She had to hold firm to her trust in Simon.

  After a week, Rupert moved to the spare room anyway, and then her chance was gone.

  As Christmas approached, she felt constantly sick and unbearably miserable. The gaily decorated tree, the tinsel and lights seemed to mock her. The boys’ growing excitement as they opened the doors of their Advent calendars and talked about what they hoped Father Christmas would bring caused her intense pain. The very sight of Lilia sent prickles of fear all over her.

  She heard almost nothing from Simon. They had decided it was too dangerous to be in constant contact, in case Lilia overheard them or checked Molly’s mobile. She began to panic in case he couldn’t think of a way out of her dilemma. What if he’d decided he didn’t want to help her after all? Perhaps he’d had a relapse and was now unconscious in hospital, unable to come to her aid.

  Then she had a text message:

  Hold firm, dear heart. I have the

  solution. I’m coming Xmas Eve and will

  tell all. Keep mum until I get there.

  Delete this message at once.

  Christmas Eve came at last. The children were overexcited that night and took some time to settle. It was agonising for Molly, not being allowed to share in bathtime and hanging the stockings, but Lilia had forbidden it. She loitered on the landing where she could hear Lilia’s voice coming from her sons’ room, reading them a story called Sharing a Shell by Julia Donaldson. Then she heard the front-door knocker slamming against the old oak surface and hurried down to answer it.

  Simon stood on the doorstep, wrapped up against the winter chill. He smiled at her. ‘Happy Christmas, Molly, my darling. Santa’s here.’

  ‘Oh, thank goodness. Quick!’ hissed Molly, throwing an anxious glance up the stairs. ‘She’s reading a story to the boys. We’ve got a few minutes to ourselves.’

  She led Simon into the lounge, where he sank down into a chair, clearly exhausted by his journey. ‘Well?’ she said, trying not to appear as nervous and tense as she felt. ‘Is everything all right? What’s your plan?’

  Simon smiled happily. ‘Don’t you worry about a thing. Remember you told me about how, when you were living at Kit-Kat Cottage, the husband, Joey, told you to go away. It was obvious to me that that was a warning. You were determined to go, and told Lilia so. When you said he’d died from heart failure that very same night, I knew it was no coincidence. You mentioned dog hairs in the poor man’s mouth… How on earth had those got there? So, back in Northampton, I tracked down a copy of the death certificate, and from that the name of the doctor who’d signed it. He remembered that night, because the inordinate amount of dog hair around the body had struck him as odd. The rules of his profession prevented him from discussing the specifics of the case, so when I put it to him, hypothetically, that a dog could have been coaxed to lie on the old man and suffocate him, he admitted it was possible. Lilia had a dog, didn’t she?’

  ‘Yes, yes — Heathcliff. She adored him and he did anything she said.’ Molly looked astonished. ‘Lilia killed Joey?’

  Simon nodded. ‘To keep you at the bungalow. If I take my allegations to the police, they’ll be forced to investigate.’

  ‘Oh, heavens!’ cried Molly, anguished. ‘That explains everything! Of course, I should have guessed… Oh, poor Joey. He was such a dear, helpless soul. Now I’ve got his death on my conscience too.’ Molly sat down and covered her face with her hands.

  ‘It’s not your fault, Molls. She’s the wicked one, not you. What happened to the man who attacked me was an accident, you know that. And Joey’s death was not in vain — it’s just what I need to send her on her way. What are the plans for tonight?’

  ‘Dinner, then Midnight Mass. I’m not supposed to be going —just Lilia and Rupert. My orders are to prepare port and mince pies and go to bed.’

  ‘Hmm, not quite what I’d hoped.’ Simon looked thoughtful. ‘We need to find a reason for Rupert to stay here. Then I’ll take Lilia on my own and confront her with her crimes. I’ll offer to keep quiet in return for the mobile phone, then tell her to sling her hook. Premeditated murder of an innocent disabled man in her care is far worse than your crime of trying to save me from a vicious hooligan. She’ll see my point, I think.’

  Molly jumped up, her eyes shining. ‘Oh, Simon, do you honestly think so? Will you really be able to get rid of her?’

  ‘Trust me,’ declared Simon. ‘She’ll be gone by morning, I promise. We’ll be able to enjoy Christmas without her rancid presence. Leave it to me. Play your part well, but rest assured that you will not be leaving this house. Trust me to do the right and proper thing. Know that I love you.’

  ‘I love you, too, Simon.’ Molly heard footsteps descending the stairs. ‘That’s her. Storytime’s finished. Look casual.’

  Lilia greeted Simon with cool surprise. She frowned as she said ‘I didn’t know you were joining us for the festive season.’

  ‘No one did,’ answered Simon, cheerily. ‘I’ve just dropped in. I hope that’s all right. It’s important to be with your loved ones at Christmas, isn’t it?’

  ‘You’re very welcome,’ Rupert said hospitably, while Molly, pale and nervous, tried to act normally.

  They gathered to drink mulled wine in the lounge before dinner. Lilia, looking wonderful in dark-green satin with delicate emerald earrings that glittered against her hennaed hair, sat regally on a stool by the fire. She sipped her drink, looked into the flames and smiled at her private thoughts.

  As they all sat down for dinner, Molly was relieved to see that Simon and Lilia seemed to be getting on rather well, sparring together, laughing at each other’s catty jokes and swapping companionable glances every now and then. Lilia seemed completely at ease, and only criticised the roast beef once, lamenting the absence of a bloody centre. ‘You’ve overcooked it, Molly. Never mind,’ she said breezily. ‘There’s a lot to be said for a crusty exterior, don’t you think, Simon?’

  ‘You would know,’ replied Simon, and the pair of them laughed drily.

  Can this really be the last time we’ll have dinner together? wondered Molly, watching her old mentor through the candlelight. It’s hard to imagine my life without Lilia in it. But she must go. It’s her or me.

  She would trust in Simon.

  ‘You have certainly made good progress since I last saw you,’ Lilia was saying to Simon. ‘I shall pray for your swift recovery at Mass tonight. Will you be coming?’

  ‘Oh, yes,’ said Simon. ‘I come alive at midnight. I wouldn’t miss it for anything. I love a Midnight Mass.’

  ‘The Catholic Mass is at eleven thirty in Bilsington.’ She turned to Rupert. ‘I suppose we should be setting off soon. Molly, I believe, will stay at home.’

  Molly nodded meekly, while Rupert gave her a cold look and said nothing.

  After Molly had cleared the plates, the other three put on their coats and got ready to set out into the night. As they stood in the hallway, Molly said suddenly, ‘Rupert, I don’t feel at all well. I’ve had champagne, port, mulled wine, brandy and then three glasses of Merlot. Would you mind staying with me? I’m worried that if I’m ill and the children wake up, I won’t be able to look after them.’

  Rupert looked cross. ‘Really, Molly, we’re just about to leave …’

  ‘I honestly don’t feel well.’ She stared at him with pleading eyes.

  ‘But I’m going to drive us in the Land Rover—’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ said Simon, piping up. ‘You
stay here with Molly. I can drive the Land Rover — that is, if you don’t mind and your insurance policy covers it.’

  Lilia frowned at Molly, a flicker of suspicion crossing her face.

  Rupert thought for a moment. ‘Yes, that’s fine. It would be very kind of you, Simon. Sorry to put you to all this bother.’

  Lilia watched Rupert hand Simon the car keys and relaxed a little.

  ‘Shall we?’ Simon offered her his arm.

  She hesitated for a fraction of a second, then took it. ‘Thank you, Simon.’

  Simon turned to Molly. ‘I’m sure you’ll feel better very soon. My Christmas present to you is very special.’

  ‘As are you,’ said Molly, in a weak voice, as Simon and Lilia went outside. She closed the door behind them, her mind reeling. Now it was a question of waiting. Whatever Simon had in mind, she hoped he did it quickly. She wasn’t sure she could bear the suspense. She turned to look for Rupert, but he was padding upstairs already.

  ‘Night,’ he said, with all the expression of a moody teenager.

  In a moleskin coat, with matching hat, black leather gloves and a sensible black handbag, Lilia stood on the driveway, a picture of gracious elegance. Simon reversed the black Land Rover, complete with privacy windows and a fridge, from the car port and parked it in front of her.

  As she made her way to the passenger door, he produced a water bottle from his coat pocket and took three healthy swigs. ‘Mmm,’ he said to himself, as he felt the vague stirrings of something familiar flapping, like a moth, inside him. He waited for Lilia to get in, but it became apparent that she was waiting for her chauffeur to open the door for her. He went round, opened the door and offered a hand, which she declined, stepping nimbly into the luxury interior unaided.

  Back in the driver’s seat, he said, ‘All set?’

  ‘You’re most kind,’ said Lilia, resting her handbag on her knees and patting the brim of her hat. ‘Are you a regular churchgoer?’

  ‘Not even my bowel movements are regular any more, unfortunately,’ replied Simon. He drove the Land Rover smoothly on to the main road.