Survivor: Only the strongest will remain standing . . .

by Roberta Kray

  55

  Lita was still trying to absorb everything Paul Considine had told her. None of it felt quite real, more like a far-fetched drama on the TV than something that was happening in real life. That Mal had lived with such a terrible secret for so long filled her with surprise and sadness. He must have always been looking over his shoulder, always waiting for the law to catch up with him. Sixteen years of fear and uncertainty.

  She neither judged nor blamed him for what had taken place that night in Soho. Who wouldn’t have done the same in his shoes? Esther, however, was a different matter. Mal’s actions were understandable, but hers felt cold and vengeful. She hadn’t just chosen to leave him but to try and destroy him in the process. Lita wondered if this was a knee-jerk reaction, a response to the event of yesterday, or if she had planned it all along.

  She was pondering on this – and leaning towards the latter option – when Mrs Gough walked into the library. Lita was surprised to see her, thinking she was still at the hospital. The housekeeper approached with a cold expression on her face. Her voice was tight and clipped, authoritarian. ‘According to the doctors, Mrs Fury will be discharged within the week. She’ll be returning here, to the house, where she can be properly taken care of.’

  ‘I see.’

  ‘Do you?’ Mrs Gough asked. ‘I hope so. Only with the current situation being as it is, Mrs Fury would prefer that you weren’t here on her return.’

  Lita stared at her, not sure if she entirely understood. ‘Not here? You mean —’

  ‘What I mean is that you can’t live here any more. It simply isn’t acceptable. You were always Mr Fury’s responsibility and now that he’s… Well, it isn’t up to her to look after you.’

  Lita was dumbfounded. ‘She’s kicking me out? She can’t do that. This is my home.’

  ‘You’re eighteen now. It’s time to stand on your own two feet.’

  A thin, brittle laugh escaped from Lita’s lips. ‘And where am I supposed to go? I haven’t got any family, for God’s sake. I haven’t got any money.’

  Mrs Gough reached into her pocket, took out an envelope and passed it over. ‘There’s a hundred pounds in here. I think Mrs Fury has been more than generous. It should be enough to tide you over until you find a job.’

  ‘So you’re just going to throw me out on the street?’ Lita was tempted to hurl the money back in her face, but practicality overcame what would only be an empty gesture. Pride was all very well but it didn’t put food on the table. ‘Mal isn’t going to be happy.’

  ‘I’m sure Mr Fury has more important things on his mind at the moment.’

  Lita knew this was true, and that it was pointless to argue. Although she could have dug in her heels, refused to leave, she knew the atmosphere would be intolerable once Esther returned. And who wanted to stay where they weren’t wanted? It could be months, even years, before Mal was back. ‘Fine,’ she said. ‘I’ll go. I’ll go today.’

  ‘No one’s saying that you have to go straight away. You can take a few days to make some arrangements.’

  ‘That won’t be necessary.’

  Lita stormed out of the library and up the stairs, wondering what those arrangements could possibly be. It wasn’t as if she had any relatives or close friends. There was Theresa of course, but she lived with her husband and son in a small two-up, two-down cottage that was cramped enough without an additional person in it. And it wouldn’t be long before the new baby arrived. Although Theresa would never turn her away, she knew it wasn’t fair to ask.

  Lita went into her bedroom and sat down on the bed. The more she thought about it, the less she wanted to stay in the village. There’d be gossip. There’d be whispering and pointing. She’d be the girl who’d been thrown out of the big house – and Mrs Gough wouldn’t be slow to start some rumours as to why that was. Maybe she’d even bring up the business of the button.

  Lita winced, jumped up, went over to the wardrobe and opened the doors. Having decided she was better off away from West Henby, she could only think of one other place to go. It would have to be London. And there were advantages in heading for the big city: one was that she should be able to find work, the other that she’d be able to visit Mal more easily. Considine had said he’d probably be remanded to Wandsworth or the Scrubs.

  Suddenly she remembered her appointment with Nick Trent. He lived in the city, didn’t he? Yes, the number she’d called had definitely had a London code. And if he’d give her a lift, that would save money on the train fare. She looked at her watch: half eleven. Half an hour to get packed and get down to the village.

  She reached into the wardrobe and pulled out the smaller of the two suitcases. It was better to travel light; she didn’t want to be lugging anything heavy around. Quickly she rifled through the hangers, dismissing most of the clothes, taking only those she was sure she would use. She moved on to the chest of drawers, packing T-shirts and underwear. From there she hurried to the bathroom where she swept up a towel, toothbrush, toothpaste, soap, shampoo and conditioner. What about jewellery? She could take the ruby necklace but what if it got stolen? No, she would leave it behind where it was safe. The last two items she placed in the case were the book of fairy tales and the small seashell box. Neither of these was exactly essential but she didn’t trust Mrs Gough to take care of them in her absence.

  Finally, Lita picked up the envelope from where she’d dropped it on the bed. She was still reluctant to take the money, to take anything from Esther, but couldn’t afford to be precious about it. When she got a job, the first thing she’d do was pay back every penny. Having resolved on this, she sighed and slipped the envelope into her shoulder bag.

  By now it was getting on for ten to twelve. She stood for a moment staring at the peacocks on the wall wondering when or if she’d ever see them again. This had been her home, when she hadn’t been at school, for the past five years. She felt a tightening in her chest as she wondered what lay ahead. It was scary to be starting again, to be heading out into the unknown without the protection of Mal. But now wasn’t the time to be losing her nerve. She swallowed hard, stood up straight and pushed back her shoulders.

  ‘You can do it,’ she murmured. ‘You can do it, Lita Bruce.’

  Then she left the room and didn’t look back.

  56

  Nick Trent was on his second cup of coffee and pretty sure he’d been stood up when he finally saw Lita outside the café window. Without smiling, she beckoned him outside. It was only when he stepped through the door that he noticed the suitcase at her feet.

  ‘I need a lift,’ she said. ‘Can you take me to London?’

  ‘Hello, Nick,’ he said. ‘How are you? I’m fine, thanks. Lovely day, isn’t it?’

  Lita, who wasn’t in the mood for his dry wit or sarcasm or whatever it was, pulled a face. ‘It doesn’t matter if you can’t. I can get the train.’

  ‘No, it’s not a problem. Do you want to go right now or would you like a coffee first?’

  ‘I’d rather just go.’ And then, in a slightly more conciliatory tone, she added, ‘Thanks. If you don’t mind.’

  ‘Okay. Give me two minutes.’ Nick went back inside to pay the bill, wondering what was going on. This was a change of plan but that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing; it meant he’d have over an hour to talk to her on the journey home, longer perhaps than she’d have given him under normal circumstances.

  By the time he got outside again she’d already walked along the road to where his car was parked. As he strolled towards her, he noticed the nervy, anxious way she shifted from foot to foot. Someone was in a hurry. He unlocked the passenger door and watched her get in before taking her case and placing it in the boot.

  Nick got in the car and put on his seat belt. He glanced at her but she didn’t look back. She sat staring straight ahead with her hands clenched tightly in her lap. He didn’t say anything. She looked worried, scared even, and he didn’t want to spook her. She gave the impression of a small wild animal, cor
nered and afraid, the type who might bite off your fingers if you got too close or made any sudden movements. It was best to take things slowly. There was plenty of time to get to the bottom of it all.

  Nick leaned forward, switched on the engine and pulled away from the kerb. He thought she relaxed a little but couldn’t be sure. Maybe it was just his imagination. It was an effort to keep his curiosity in check, but he managed it until they’d cleared the village boundaries and gone a couple of miles beyond. As they wound through the country lanes, he asked as casually as he could, ‘So, are you going to tell me what’s going on?’

  She didn’t answer straight away. As if she hadn’t even heard, she continued to gaze through the windscreen at the trees and hedgerows. Well, maybe she was looking but he wasn’t convinced she was actually seeing anything. And then, just as he was starting to think it was going to be a very quiet journey, she came out with it.

  ‘Mal’s been arrested,’ she said. ‘He’s been charged with killing Teddy Heath.’

  ‘What?’ Nick was so startled he took his eyes off the road and almost ran into the grass verge. Quickly he straightened out the car again. ‘Are you serious?’

  ‘It’s hardly something to joke about.’

  ‘No, no of course it isn’t. But Teddy Heath? Mal? Christ, I didn’t see that coming.’

  Lita hesitated, but eventually told him what had happened, the words recited in a dull monotone as if this was the only way she could deal with telling the story. She explained about the rows, the bad atmosphere and how Mal and Esther had argued at the top of the steps. She told him about Mal being taken into custody, Esther’s accusation and Mal’s subsequent confession. ‘So you were right, I suppose, to be interested in him. In Teddy Heath, I mean.’

  There was, he thought, a hint of accusation in what she said – as if his talk with Mal Fury had set in motion a chain of events that had eventually culminated in the man’s arrest – but he let it slide. He was too busy trying to figure out how this all fitted in with his uncle’s investigation and his death in the hit-and-run.

  ‘When did it happen? What year? Do you know?’

  ‘A couple of years after Kay disappeared.’

  Which made it 1960, the same year Stanley had been employed by Mal. Employed but kept in the dark, because the one useful lead – Teddy – was already dead, and Mal Fury couldn’t share that information without implicating himself in the killing. So Stanley had been taken on simply in the hope that someone would eventually come forward with the child. He’d been paid to sift out the crooks and the crazies and the timewasters, but not to solve the mystery of Kay’s disappearance. Yet somehow, all those years later, Stanley had almost done exactly that, stumbling on to the name Teddy Heath, making a connection and knowing that it meant something.

  ‘What are you thinking?’ Lita asked.

  ‘Stanley made a phone call to Mal on the day he died. Maybe it was to do with Teddy Heath. That would have come as quite a shock, wouldn’t it? All those years having gone by and then —’

  Lita turned her face to him, her eyes flashing with anger. ‘What are you saying – that Mal killed him too? Is that what you think?’

  ‘No, of course not,’ Nick said, although in fact that was exactly what was in his mind. Mal Fury would have had a lot to lose if the truth came out. ‘I was just… I don’t know, thinking aloud. I didn’t mean anything by it.’

  ‘Why say it then?’

  ‘Sorry,’ he murmured, wanting to placate her. ‘Anyway Mal told me that he didn’t take the call, that he didn’t speak to Stanley that day, so he wouldn’t have had a motive.’

  ‘Except you don’t believe him.’

  This was true too, but Nick shook his head. ‘Of course I do.’ Obviously Lita was fond of Mal and would never want to think the worst. It was one thing being responsible for a heart attack, quite another ploughing someone down in cold blood. He quickly changed the subject. ‘So why are you leaving?’

  ‘Esther’s coming back soon. She doesn’t want me there.’

  ‘She can’t just chuck you out.’

  ‘I’d rather not be in the house with her, not without Mal. It’s better this way.’

  ‘Better for whom?’

  Lita gave a shrug. ‘We’ve never really got on.’

  Nick wondered what kind of a person Esther Fury was. He’d only met her briefly at the party but she had struck him as one of those beautiful women who are strong-willed and manipulative and utterly selfish. What had given him that impression? It had been partly coloured, perhaps, by his natural prejudice when it came to the glitterati, but was mainly down to that scene in the garden where she’d used him to separate Lita from her friend. And then, of course, there was his uncle’s opinion. Although Stanley had never directly criticised her in his reports, it hadn’t been too difficult to read between the lines.

  ‘Who was Esther leaving him for?’

  Lita flinched, a tiny movement that she tried to cover up by fiddling with her seat belt. ‘I don’t know. Maybe no one.’

  Nick snorted. ‘Oh, there’s always someone. Women like Esther never just leave, not unless they have somewhere better to go.’

  Lita gave him an odd look. She was quiet for a while as if thinking this through, but if she came to a conclusion she didn’t share it with him. The silence remained until he started up the conversation again.

  ‘I found out something interesting about Billy Martin.’ Perhaps his idea of interesting was different to hers because she didn’t ask what, but just gave him a distracted glance and focused her attention on the road again. He carried on, regardless. ‘I went through Stanley’s address book, looking for his old police contacts and came across this guy called Donal Stewart. He’s a DS working out of West End Central. It seems Stanley called him about Billy, and Stewart did a search. Turns out Billy was in jail at the time of Kay’s abduction; he was in the Scrubs and didn’t get out until ’63.’

  Lita must have been listening after all because she wrinkled her nose and said, ‘I don’t get it.’

  ‘That’s because we haven’t got to the good part yet. On the day he died, Stanley called Stewart again, only this time he was asking about Teddy Heath. And guess what? Teddy served a short stretch in the Scrubs too, six months for theft. He was there at the same time as Billy.’

  ‘You think they knew each other?’

  ‘It’s a theory. I can’t prove it, of course, but it’s possible. Prisons are big places but they might have met. Teddy was a drunk and there’s always booze in jail if you know where to find it. And the trouble with drunks is that they can’t keep their mouths shut. Maybe he told Billy about the kidnap or maybe Billy heard it from someone else. Either way, it must have stuck in Billy’s head and when he turned up on Angela’s doorstep to find she had a child she couldn’t or wouldn’t explain he may have wondered if you were the missing Fury child.’

  Lita didn’t look impressed. ‘Wouldn’t that have been a bit of a coincidence?’

  ‘Like I said, it’s just a theory.’ Nick scratched his chin and put his hand back on the wheel. ‘Maybe he never thought that at all but just said it to try and find out where you really came from. He wouldn’t have liked not knowing. Stanley talked to a guy called Calvin Cross – an old boyfriend of your mum’s… of Angela’s… and he reckoned Billy was a nasty bit of work, a real control freak.’

  ‘But she must have known I wasn’t Kay Fury.’

  ‘Must she?’

  Lita gave him a sidelong glance. ‘What do you mean?’