Shadows to Ashes

by Tori de Clare

  She put the car in reverse and fought to control the tremor in her hands.

  29

  7:38 p.m. Naomi was searching through clothes and prising items from the hangers in her wardrobe, and folding then stacking them in a deep leather bag. Then back to the wardrobe to repeat the process, then over to her drawers. If a CCTV camera had been recording her, there’d be a soundless account of a woman efficiently preparing for a trip and missing no details. Wardrobe, drawers, bathroom essentials, shoes etc. Systematic packing by a calm-looking person in control of her life.

  For Naomi, it was like watching this woman in disbelief as well as playing the role herself. She’d divided into two entities. Her limbs were busy packing clothes while her other half was standing helplessly by, objecting to every move she made. What are you doing? Your family is in disarray. You can’t leave. Put those jeans back, you unspeakable idiot. She’d seen ghost films where a dead spirit followed someone, yelling or begging pointlessly because the person being tailed was utterly oblivious. Naomi was playing both roles.

  She wasn’t sure who of the two was in charge. At odds with herself, she was only aware that thoughts of Dan powered her muscles and that as the minutes rolled, the bag kept filling until it was struggling to close, the mouth of it wide open as if it couldn’t believe what she was doing either. ‘Oh shut up,’ she said out loud as she grabbed the zip which strained when she tugged it. And centimetre by centimetre, she forced the teeth to lock.

  She only really came to herself – the fragments reassembling – when Camilla’s voice drifted up the stairs, calling her, calling Annabel. She curled her hand around the bag handles and lifted it off the bed and onto the floor. She’d hoped to sneak away unnoticed. Distractions were the last thing she needed.

  Downstairs, her dad was at the short end of the kitchen table, dabbing his forehead with a folded hanky. Her mum was at the opposite end, her arms out in front of her, fingers clasped together. Henry signalled for Naomi to sit down and shortly afterwards, Annabel appeared and sat opposite her.

  It was too silent. Too serious. Naomi’s stress hormones were firing, but she was working for a cool exterior.

  ‘What’s happened?’ Naomi said.

  ‘The vet called,’ Camilla answered. ‘They’ve fast-tracked the results. Maybe they suspected something serious. I don’t know.’ She paused.

  ‘What did he say?’ Annabel asked.

  Camilla drew a noisy breath. ‘Well, initial results suggest that Shadow was poisoned.’

  ‘Poisoned? How?’

  Camilla shook her head. ‘He had some kind of poison in his bloodstream and some raw meat in his stomach that we hadn’t fed him. There was a small coin lodged in his collar. A bent halfpenny.’

  ‘What’s a halfpenny?’ Annabel’s voice was getting louder.

  ‘Half of a penny. Small copper coin. The Royal Mint withdrew them in the early eighties.’

  Naomi’s thoughts wandered. If Solomon was responsible for this . . . ‘But we never let him off the lead.’

  Camilla wiped her face. ‘No, but his lead stretches a long way and he wanders round the front garden. And he’s easily persuaded with food.’

  ‘What kind of a lunatic would poison a puppy?’ Naomi asked.

  Camilla looked utterly defeated. ‘A very sick one.’

  ‘I can’t believe it.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Are you going to call the police?’

  ‘I honestly don’t know what to do or think anymore, Naomi.’ She couldn’t go on. She hung her head and squeezed the bridge of her nose.

  Naomi said, ‘Are you OK, Mum?’

  ‘Are any of us OK?’ she snapped. The room hung still, a heaviness about the air. ‘I’m sorry.’ Her tone was gentle again. She cleared her throat, preparing for more, unable to look at any of them. When she felt able to speak, she said, ‘As I’ve told your dad many times, I can’t shake the feeling that something is horribly wrong and that this latest incident only confirms it.’

  Naomi could find no response so she looked around the table for support. Annabel had started to weep quietly and Henry was examining the table and polishing the grain in one spot with one finger.

  Camilla broke the silence. ‘I’ve asked myself endlessly if I’m being irrational. Until this morning, I questioned whether or not I was losing my mind. Your dad fobs me off whenever I bring it up,’ she said, as if he wasn’t there.

  ‘Camilla –’

  ‘Oh yes you do, Henry,’ she threw across the table, past both girls. ‘Don’t you deny it. How many more things are going to happen before this family wakes up and takes control?’ Camilla slammed a hand down. ‘Why don’t you admit it? You’re spineless.’

  Annabel interjected, ‘Mum, that’s harsh.’

  ‘Is it?’ she yelled. ‘You two girls wanted me and your dad back together, so for everyone’s sake, I’ve tried. The fact is that your dad doesn’t even want me.’

  ‘Camilla, that’s not true,’ Henry said from the far end of the table. He mopped his face again. ‘Of course I want you.’

  ‘You’ve turned into a robot, Henry,’ she hurled. ‘You’re absent, distracted all the time, just like my father used to be. I don’t know you anymore.’

  Henry didn’t say anything while Camilla regarded the ceiling in an attempt to tip back any tears that might approach her eyes.

  ‘Oh Mum!’ Annabel said, reaching her hand towards Camilla’s.

  Camilla shifted her hand away. ‘No sympathy, Annabel. I don’t want it,’ she said, tilting her head back, blinking rapidly again. ‘What do tears solve?’

  The girls looked at each other, then at Henry. Where else was there to look?

  Henry stalled and the wait was terrible. Eventually, he said, ‘How can I prove to you that I care about our family more than anything else?’

  ‘Stop treating me like a fool. Start by telling me the truth about that blessed woman who used to live next door.’

  ‘Camilla, I have –’

  ‘I don’t believe it,’ she yelled. ‘It doesn’t add up. And money has disappeared. You sold the cars for hundreds of thousands of pounds and yet you can’t remember or explain where the money has vanished to. Who misplaces that kind of money, Henry? What else?’ She consulted a corner of the room.

  ‘Shall we take this to our room?’ Henry said, firmly.

  ‘No we shall not. Phone calls. Sneaking off to talk on your mobile, thinking I haven’t noticed. Well, I have noticed.’ She swiped a hand through the air. ‘And you have issues with Joel which are irrational. So Joel has stopped visiting here with Annabel weeks off delivery. Does this sound like the supportive family man you used to be?’

  ‘I assure you –’

  ‘Your behaviour is completely bizarre. What are you hiding?’

  ‘Nothing,’ Henry roared, standing up.

  ‘You sit down. We haven’t finished,’ Camilla commanded.

  ‘We’re done,’ Henry said. His face was a strange colour.

  ‘You sit back down or I walk out of here for good.’

  The girls were speechless. Naomi found she was holding her breath as the seconds passed. Henry weakened and plummeted into his chair. The room breathed again.

  ‘It isn’t about the money,’ Camilla continued, her tone quieter, but just as insistent. ‘The real issue and the thing I’ve tried and failed to discuss in private will have to come out into the open.’ A theatrical pause followed. ‘I believe that someone is trying to divide and harm our family and I can’t get to the bottom of who or what it is. Is everyone else around the table without brain cells, or are we in agreement?’

  When Naomi couldn’t bear the tension for another moment, she said, ‘Things will get better, Mum.’ This drew a confused and furious look from Camilla.

  ‘When? How? Several people have died. Don’t you get the feeling that if it hadn’t been them, it’d have been us instead? With those deaths, wouldn’t you think that the threat would have passed? I did! I dared to hop
e that everything would return to normal. I believed it, and now this. Coincidence?’

  Naomi had her head bowed, so she had no view of the others, but she could feel her mum’s hot glare passing over her. It was four hours to the deadline. Somehow, she had to extract herself. No one was speaking. Did Camilla know nothing about Vincent Solomon? Naomi guessed that Henry had withheld everything about his dealings with Solomon.

  Camilla went on. ‘I don’t want this baby being born into this kind of uncertainty. I haven’t wanted to talk about this or have you girls living in fear. I didn’t want security cameras and lights and guards, but let’s face it, we have to do something and I’m proposing a move. Again. If you’d just listened to me last time –’

  Annabel cut in, ‘I’ll be moving in with Joel soon.’ Naomi looked at Annabel, whose cheeks had turned pink. Had there been a development, or was she trying to appease Camilla? ‘We’ll move to his end, away from here, OK? You won’t have to worry about me or the baby.’

  ‘No,’ Henry blurted out. ‘You’re both better off with us.’

  Annabel turned to Henry. ‘Dad, what is your problem with Joel?’

  Henry clenched his lips together, then said, ‘He isn’t right for you.’

  ‘How the hell do you know that?’

  Henry shook his head as if he’d said too much. It was as if a tide of blood was flowing beneath his skin from his neck, up through his face.

  ‘Is he cheating on me?’ Annabel pressed.

  ‘I’ve no idea,’ Henry hung his head and his cheeks sagged.

  Annabel sighed in relief. ‘Well then, quit judging him. It isn’t fair and it’s making me miserable at a difficult time.’

  ‘Let’s all calm down,’ Camilla said. ‘Can I suggest that you don’t forward your new address to anyone? Keep a low profile, Annabel. Take good care of yourself, OK?’

  Naomi’s heart was thumping. It was time to speak, to move, to leave. ‘I’ll be moving out too,’ she said. All eyes rested on her. ‘I’m staying with friends in Manchester for a bit then I’ll be buying my own place.’

  ‘Since when?’ Camilla said.

  ‘I’ve been thinking about it for a while now.’

  ‘No you haven’t. You’ve been pining over the convict and straining your neck looking out for the postman every day. Why does everyone in this house think I’m brainless?’

  ‘Well I’ve written to Dan and he hasn’t responded,’ Naomi said, standing up. ‘I can’t wait for him my whole life.’

  ‘Hallelujah!’ Camilla said.

  ‘Anyway, We’d rented a flat in London. The contract was for six months, so I might use the place and see if I can get in at the Royal College or something. I’ll be sensible and I’ll take care, Mum, OK? Don’t worry about me. You and Dad should sell up, look for somewhere smaller and quieter away from here.’

  Everyone was looking at Naomi suspiciously, including Camilla. Even Annabel was trying to work out what was going on, but she held her words in. Camilla said, ‘It’s occurred to you all, hasn’t it? This threat? You should all be horrified, but it’s obvious that we’ve all arrived at the same conclusions.’

  ‘Yeah, I think you’re right, Mum,’ Naomi said. ‘But what’s the point of involving the police? Been there, done that. None of us want to be watched or have the press hound us again. We just need to divide quietly and then take care of ourselves and each other. That’s what I’ve decided to do.’

  Camilla was panicking. ‘I can’t help feeling that we shouldn’t be dividing ourselves at a time like this. We should stick together.’

  ‘No, Mum. It’s time for Annabel and me to make our way independently.’

  It was an astonishing lie. Naomi couldn’t look at the perplexity in her mum’s face anymore, so she turned and began to walk away, as steadily as she could.

  ‘Naomi?’ Camilla called. Naomi stopped, but didn’t turn. ‘We’re going to bury Shadow in the garden tomorrow. Dad and I will collect him in the morning and then we’ll let him rest in his favourite spot near the rose bushes. Don’t disappear until we’ve at least given him a decent send-off.’

  Naomi closed her eyes against the rush of tears. ‘OK,’ she said as she passed through the door and galloped to her room, wondering how she’d ever escape with her leather bag to Solomon’s now.

  ***

  11 p.m. The leather bag was in the wet room next to the back door. Naomi had sneaked downstairs with it earlier in the evening. She had to leave. Now. She’d concocted a rough plan which involved leaving a note on the kitchen table to say that Siobhan had had a crisis and that she’d had to leave in a rush and hadn’t wanted to disturb anyone. Camilla knew that Siobhan lived in central Manchester where there was no real facility for parking, so Naomi would have to leave her car at home. Anything less and Camilla would be suspicious. In any case, she didn’t want her car parked on Solomon’s drive. After what happened with Nathan’s car . . . The guy was too unpredictable. And she was moving in with him! Enough said.

  So, taxi booked for 11:15, she’d have to intercept it on the main road before it turned down the drive and trashed her plans. If the taxi was late, she was completely screwed. It took twenty minutes to get to Solomon’s by car. There was no plan B.

  She was fully dressed, but was wearing a fluffy dressing gown over her coat and pyjama bottoms over her jeans. She couldn’t risk being stopped and questioned in the house. From her room, she read through the note one last time.

  Mum and Dad,

  Having to dash off to Siobhan’s. Family crisis and she needs support. It’s very late, so I’m slipping out quietly. Ordered a taxi, but I’m planning to make it back for Shadow’s burial tomorrow.

  Naomi x

  Glaring lies. The words were weak and improbable and would infuriate Camilla. She planned to deposit the note on the kitchen table if she got that far without seeing anyone.

  Annabel had been in her room all evening, talking on her phone. Naomi had been too distracted to find out if it was Joel. Her parents were upstairs for the night too. The hum of a discussion seeped beneath their door.

  She slipped out of her bedroom, taking care to leave the room looking as though she’d left in a great hurry, and crept carefully down the small staircase at the back of the house. The stairs groaned here and there, but she made it to the kitchen, left her note on the table and picked her way to the back door, where she took off the dressing gown and pyjama bottoms and hung them in the wet room. That done, she collected her bag and placed one careful step after another until she reached the back door.

  Then, footsteps on the stairs. ‘Naomi? Naomi?’

  No! Her instinct was to run. She froze for an awful moment, one hand on the door handle, mind divided.

  ‘Naomi?’ Camilla’s voice coiled down the stairs, snaked through the hall and the kitchen and landed softly in her ears while she gripped the cold handle.

  She closed her eyes. The bag was hideously heavy, but she’d wanted to avoid a case rattling on wheels. She heaved the bag onto her right shoulder and let herself quickly and quietly into the back garden and locked the door. The sky was clear, the air still with suspicion. She followed the sharp angles of the house, keeping close to the wall, making efforts to dull her footsteps. Now for the trickiest part – leaving the shadows of the house. Path or lawn? She decided she’d follow the path, edged each side with laurel bushes.

  Head down, almighty weight on one shoulder, she hurried away from the house, past her car and Annabel’s and tiptoed along the path until she was covered each side with dense bushes and the house was becoming more distant. A glance over her shoulder told her that the house was holding still. At eight minutes past eleven, she was standing on the main road, out of breath.

  She kept glancing down the path anxiously. She paced over to the letter box, driven by some vague hope that she’d missed something that morning that might be clinging to the side of the box somewhere. What she wouldn’t give for just a single word from Dan.

  She t
urned the key and was surprised to find that the box wasn’t empty. A leaflet. A charity bag. And an envelope with her name on and no address. Naomi tore it open and shone her phone on a folded note. Inside there was an unflattering photograph of Dan on a small bit of paper. A photocopy of a photograph. Poor quality, but it was Dan! Her hands shook as she studied it, stunned. The note was from Kerry.

  Had to raid a file for this. Not the best of Dan, but the best I can do. Needless to say, I’d get a major bollocking if anyone found out, so keep it well hidden.

  Kerry. X

  Naomi slumped on top of her bag shoved up against the railings and stared and stared at Dan’s face. He looked startled, worried, fatigued. She texted a couple of words of thanks to Kerry and fingered the photograph, oblivious to the silent road and what she was doing there. Until she heard footsteps on gravel. Holy crap! There was nowhere to run, but she stood up, stowed Dan’s picture in her pocket and braced herself.

  Camilla appeared a few seconds later and looked relieved and furious to find her.

  ‘Naomi? What on earth’s going on?’ she hissed.

  ‘Didn’t you find my note?’

  ‘Yes. Which is why I need to know what’s happening. Didn’t I tell you to keep safe?’

  ‘I am doing.’

  ‘Standing here at this hour? I want you back in the house right now.’

  ‘No, Mum. I’m expecting a taxi any minute.’

  ‘This is insane.’ Her voice was rising. ‘Why aren’t you driving?’

  ‘There’s nowhere to park where Siobhan lives.’