‘Tommy, would you mind helping me chop some veggies?’ Sarah said to her son.
He looked at her suspiciously. He was waiting for her to start giving out to him, but so far she was acting all normal.
‘OK, Mammy.’ He said without any enthusiasm.
She handed him the peeler and some carrots. ‘You can start with these.’ she said gently to him.
Soon they had gotten into an easy rhythm. Tommy was scraping the skins off the carrots then he would hand them to Sarah who topped and tailed them, before chopping them into small batons. The children would only eat them in that shape, they didn’t taste the same if they were round apparently.
After a few minutes, Sarah asked Tommy. ‘How are you doing, kiddo?’
He shrugged making a non-committal sound.
‘That good, huh?’ Sarah replied.
‘Things are a bit weird right now, aren’t they?’ She continued chopping her carrots, so that Tommy would not feel pressurised into answering her.
‘I’m sorry for hitting Joseph.’ Tommy said quietly, staring at his peeler intently.
‘What made you do that?’ Sarah asked him.
‘Don’t know.’ He answered.
She continued chopping, placing batons into the saucepan on her right. She didn’t want to push him too much. She knew her son; he’d open up to her in his own time. If she pushed him, he’d clam up like a shell and she’d never find out what was going on in his head.
‘I heard some kids talking. They said that you and Daddy were getting a divorce.’ Tommy said in a whisper.
‘Hmm, I can imagine that must have been horrible for you. Hearing somebody talking about your life is never nice.’ Sarah responded mildly, even though her heart broke into a thousand pieces.
‘Are you getting a divorce, Mammy?’ Tommy asked her, his eyes full of tears.
Sarah put down her knife and turned to her little boy. She sighed quietly, wondering how they ever got to this point; she just wanted to make it all ok.
‘I think we might be, Tommy.’ Sarah replied. ‘I’m so sorry. I wish it wasn’t like this.’
‘Why did Daddy go? Was it something that I did?’ Tommy said, a big fat tear falling down his cheek. ‘I didn’t do well in my spelling test the night before he left. He was cross with me for only getting five out of ten. Is that why he went?’
Sarah pulled her little boy into her arms. ‘No, Daddy is not cross with you or with Katie or Ella. Daddy loves you all very, very much. And both your Daddy and I are always proud of you as long as you try your best.’
‘If he loves us so much, then why did he go?’ Tommy said with the logic that only children have.
Sarah wished she had a magic answer for her son. She also wished that Paul could see all of this first hand. He had no idea of the devastation he was leaving behind, as he had run away to start his new life. She could have cheerfully strangled him.
‘Sometimes people do things that we don’t understand.’ Sarah said to Tommy. ‘And even though they hurt us, they never stop loving us.’
‘How do you know?’ Tommy said, wiping away his tears with the back of his sleeve.
‘Because he has told me so, silly.’ Sarah said with a smile. ‘The day you were born, your Daddy looked at me, as he held you in his arms and he said that it was the proudest day of his life.’
‘Really?’ Tommy asked his eyes wide.
‘Yes really.’ Sarah replied. ‘It was my proudest day too, Tommy. I was so happy to finally meet you. And you’ve grown into such a funny, loving, happy little boy. Every day has been a joy for me. Truly.’
Tommy snuggled into his mother’s arms. ‘I love you, Mama.’ He said in a whisper. She hadn’t heard him use the word mama in nearly two years. It was always Mammy now. She had to fight back the tears yet again.
She held him close for a few more minutes, then pulled away to look him in the eye.
‘Now, I know that today you were upset and angry that some children were talking about you. But you know better than to get into a fight.’
‘I know, Mammy.’ Tommy said. ‘I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.’
‘Promise me?’ She asked her son.
‘Promise.’ He said.
‘OK, we’ll say no more about it then. But you remember that I’m here for you. I know that this is tough, but you can talk to me about anything anytime. I’m always on your side, buddy.’
‘I know. Can I go watch some cartoons now?’
Sarah shooed him out of the kitchen with a smile. She peeped in at the children; they were all happily playing together. While they were quiet she picked up the phone to talk to Paul. He needed to know what was going on. Despite any battles they may have regarding maintenance in their divorce, they were always going to have to be parents together and do what was best for the children. She had to make him see that.
Chapter Fifteen
James knew that he was treading on ice right now. He was parked outside the office where Marie Wickham worked. Ever since Sarah had filled him in on her dream regarding the night Mal came home late with sand on his boots, he couldn’t get it out of his head.
This was way out of his league, he knew that. He had done stakeouts many times before but normally on behalf of an insurance company checking up on a suspicious individual who claimed they had whiplash, or following a man whose wife suspected he was having an affair. And while he took his job seriously, it wasn’t life or death stuff he was dealing with. This was different. Mal Wickham had brutally murdered a young girl. And who knew what he was capable of? If Sarah’s intuition was right, someone else was in mortal danger right now too.
He’d spoken to his friend Roger in the Gardaí about his conversation with Marie Wickham and told him that he’d gotten a feeling at the funeral that Rachel might have been involved with Mal. That of course was a slight stretch of the truth. But Roger had understandably told him to back off unless he had something concrete to base his hunch on. And he couldn’t very well tell him that he was basing his conjuncture on his twin sister’s psychic dreams. Try as much as he could, the image of Mal’s smug face wouldn’t leave him. Sarah truly believed that he murdered Rachel and she also believed he was dangerous. He couldn’t just sit back and do nothing, plus he had promised Sarah he would do everything he could to help her make sense of her dreams about this guy. Marie Wickham was a good place to start.
He looked at his watch, five o’clock. He had been waiting for over an hour now; he figured that Marie would have to be out soon. Within five minutes he saw her coming out the door. He jumped out of his car and walked over to her. She got a fright when she saw him walking towards her, not recognising him at first.
‘Marie? Not sure you remember me? We met at Rachel Finch’s funeral. James Codd.’ He said quickly.
‘Oh yes, I remember.’ She replied in a worried voice. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘I wondered if you had five minutes for a quick chat.’
‘About what?’ She asked quickly. ‘I’m married, James, in case you’ve forgotten and I’m not sure that Mal would appreciate me talking to you.’
‘We can do this quietly here or down at the station if you like?’ James said recklessly. Now he was really crossing the line. He pulled his ID card out of his jacket pocket and flashed it quickly at Marie. ‘I’m a detective and I have a few questions I need to ask you. Nothing for you to be frightened of.’
If Marie looked at his ID badge she would see quickly he wasn’t a detective in the Gardaí’s but a private investigator and had absolutely no jurisdiction over her.
‘Have I done anything wrong?’ Marie said in a frightened voice, barely glancing at his badge.
‘Not that I’m aware of.’ James replied quickly. ‘I just want to have a chat with you regarding Rachel. Five minutes I promise you, and then you’re free to go home.’
‘OK.’ Marie replied. ‘But can we get in your car? I feel like the whole office is looking at me.’
‘Sure, if that makes you feel mo
re comfortable.’ James replied.
They walked to his car and James opened the passenger door, allowing Marie to get in. He sat in the driving seat and turned to face her. She was as white as a ghost and she seemed to be really agitated, looking all around her, as if she was afraid to be seen talking to him.
‘Marie, please don’t be scared. I just need to ask you some questions, that’s all.’ James said to her, in a voice that he hoped would calm her down. He was afraid she’d burst into tears and he was beginning to wonder if this was a good idea or not.
‘We have reason to believe that Rachel was seeing someone just before she died.’
Marie looked surprised. ‘I thought she was single?’ She replied. ‘At least that’s what her mother told me at the funeral.’ He studied her face; she did seem genuinely surprised that Rachel had a boyfriend.
‘Well, I can’t go into the details, the seriousness of the crime prevents me, you’ll understand.’ He said cryptically.
Marie nodded energetically in return. ‘I understand.’
‘I know that this is a delicate question, but I need to ask you something. I got the feeling when we chatted at the funeral that you didn’t much care for Rachel. Was I right?’
He watched Marie’s face as she ran through scenarios as to what to reply. He could see she was worried that she might get herself into trouble.
‘No law against not liking someone.’ He said in a friendly voice to Marie. ‘If there was I’d be in jail myself, as there are one or two individuals I can honestly say I don’t care for much!’
‘Oh.’ Marie said, laughing nervously. ‘Well, in that case, you’re right. I didn’t much like Rachel. Or rather I didn’t much like her anymore. There was a time when we were great friends.’
‘Tell me about your relationship with her.’ James urged her. ‘This would be most helpful in my investigation.’
‘Well, I don’t like to speak ill of the dead…’ Marie said.
‘Of course, I understand.’ James said smiling encouragingly. ‘But…’
‘Well, in college she was different. We just had fun together, going out, clubbing, drinking, boys; you know what it’s like. We did everything together; I thought that we’d always be in each other’s lives.’ She sounded wistful.
‘Sounds like it was a lot of fun back then.’ James said.
Marie nodded.
‘So what changed?’ James asked her.
‘Well back then, Rachel was always popular. She was big flirt, she had a way with men, and she had a way of making them want to do everything for her. I don’t think she ever completed any of her own essays herself. There was always a guy who was willing to write 3,000 words on whatever subject was needed. It was hilarious watching her and the way she played them. She always had lots of them all vying for her attention. She could have had her pick of them really. But she never wanted to settle down; she said that she didn’t want to be stuck with one man forever, marriage was for losers. As soon as someone got close, she would back off.’
James was picking up on an edge in Marie’s voice.
‘That seemed to bother you a lot?’ He asked her.
‘It did bother me a bit if I’m honest but not too much, at least not then anyhow. We were both single and having fun. Besides we had one rule, no flirting with each other’s boyfriends.’
‘Sounds like a good rule to make.’ James agreed. ‘So what happened between college and you getting married?’
‘Well we lost touch for a while after college. She had an affair with one of our lecturers in college and I didn’t approve.’
‘Did you tell her that?
‘Yeah, we fell out over it. She actively went after this guy. It was a game for her, the more he tried to push her away protesting he was happily married, the more attractive he became. It was cruel. He eventually gave into her charms. Men always did. Before long they were headlong into a passionate relationship. But as soon as he left his wife, declaring himself in love with her, she dumped him. She completely ruined that man’s life, and for what? A game.’ Marie said bitterly.
‘She sounds like a piece of work alright.’ James agreed. This was a side to Rachel’s character he’d not heard of when chatting to her family and friends in Ballyaislinn.
‘So that’s why you lost touch?’ He asked.
‘I suppose it was. She knew that I didn’t approve of her relationship with this guy. It was fine when it was just single guys she was messing with, but I couldn’t just say nothing to her when marriages were being torn apart. I saw something in her character that I didn’t like and she sensed my disapproval. We didn’t really have a big fight, we just kind of mutually moved away from each other. Rachel came back to her home town and got a job teaching in a local school. I was working in Dublin by then. But then by a twist of fate, I met Mal and we got married. And as Mal was from Wexford, it made me think of Rachel. I was lonely for my friends and family in Dublin, so I called her and we met up. But she was different to the Rachel I had known back in college. She’d changed, was harder.’
‘How so?’ James pushed.
‘Well, for one the old rules didn’t apply anymore apparently, about leaving each other’s men alone. She flirted openly with Mal; she seemed to enjoy how upset it was making me.’
‘That must have been hard for you to see that.’ James said with genuine sympathy now.
‘Yes, it was. It hurt me a lot.’ She answered truthfully.
‘And Mal, how was he with Rachel?’
‘He’s a man, James. He reacted like most men would, he was flattered.’
‘I don’t want to upset you, Marie, but do you suspect that your husband and Rachel might have had an affair?’ James asked the girl bluntly.
She looked up at him sharply. ‘No, I didn’t. Or at least I didn’t until now.’ She replied tearfully. ‘Or maybe I did suspect, I just don’t know anymore!’ She ran her hands through her hair and as she did so, James caught sight of a large bruise on the side of her temple. Her long fringe had been covering it.
James took a proper look at the woman sitting beside him. She had her makeup on pretty thick. At first he had thought it was just her way of applying make-up, but looking closely now, it was definitely a way of covering up some bruising to her face.
She noticed him looking at her bruise and quickly pulled her hair down over her face.
‘What happened to you?’ James said to her very gently.
‘It’s nothing.’ She replied quickly. ‘I’m just so clumsy, it’s ridiculous.’ She looked at his face and continued. ‘It’s not what you think!’ She could feel her face redden with embarrassment. She knew that she sounded like a cliché, trying to make out that she’d walked into a door. But she couldn’t say the words out loud to anyone, because if she did that, well it would make them real.
‘What do you think I’m thinking?’ James asked her gently.
‘That my husband hit me! All because I’m a stupid woman who nags him, that if I only thought before I spoke, then my marriage wouldn’t be in pieces. That’s what you’re thinking.’ She said tears forming in her eyes.
‘I’m so sorry, Marie.’ James said, reaching over and touching her hand. ‘You’re right I do think that your husband hit you. But that’s all. I don’t believe for one minute that any of this is your fault. No man has the right to do this to a woman, even if that woman nagged him from morning till night. You can file a complaint. You have to do something, because in my experience, it’s not going to go away, it will only get worse.’
Marie looked over at James. ‘You don’t understand. I love my husband. It’s not his fault, I’m very annoying. I can’t help myself sometimes; I can hear myself always nagging him over and over. And I know it drives him mad. I hate myself for it. I promise myself every day when I get home that today I won’t say anything to annoy Mal. And everything is fine at first. I make our dinner; he comes in from the farm. He eats his dinner. Then he disappears upstairs and comes down all dressed up and tel
ls me he’s going out. Every night he goes out and won’t take me with him, so I’m at home thinking all sorts. And sometimes it’s the middle of the night before he gets in. Last Sunday night I accused him of having an affair. He hit me. Said I couldn’t love him if I could imagine such an evil thing. That I must be thinking of having an affair myself. And I’m not thinking any such thing, honestly.’ She finished sobbing.
James felt sorry for the woman. This was no way to live a life. No wonder she was scared to be seen in his company. She was worried her husband would find out and accuse her of having an affair. He wanted to drive to the farm right now and show Mal how a man hits a man. Let him pick on someone his own size for a change. But he knew that although that would give him some short-term satisfaction, it wouldn’t help in getting the guy locked up. And he wanted to make sure that Mal Wickham was locked up for a very long time and couldn’t hurt anyone else ever again.
‘Listen to me, Marie. You have to leave him. That’s no way to live your life, living in fear constantly.’
‘But I don’t want to be on my own.’ Marie answered flatly.
‘Sounds to me like you’re living on your own already. You have been for some time now.’
Marie didn’t disagree with him. ‘I’m not brave enough to leave him. I love him.’
James wouldn’t believe that what Marie felt was love. But he wasn’t in the situation she was in and he knew he shouldn’t judge. He’d learnt in his job that relationships were very complicated and very often when in the hands of an abuser it was very hard for the victim to walk away. They lived their lives in such fear, they were afraid to just make the break.
Marie took out a tissue and wiped her eyes. She turned to James again saying, ‘You think that Mal was having an affair with Rachel don’t you?’
‘Yes, I do.’ James replied.
Marie sighed. She was lost in her thoughts.
‘I think that Mal has been cheating on me. It’s been on my mind for months now, like an itch that just won’t go away. I didn’t know it was Rachel though, honestly. He told me that he didn’t like her, that she was too vulgar for him, too obvious. And I believed him. But if I’m honest, well, I’ve been suspecting that my husband isn’t truthful to me. As I said earlier, he’s out till the wee hours several nights a week. He stayed in for a few weeks after Rachel died. But in the past few days he’s out again, at all hours.’
The Life You Left Page 13