by Mick Bose
“Who installed it on my phone?”
There’s a pause, and we both know what we’re thinking. I say it before she does. “Eva.”
I grip my forehead. “Oh God. She must have had dozens of opportunities to look at my phone. But how did she know my password?”
“She didn’t have to. You can install these apps without accessing the iOS software.”
I look at my phone and shudder. “God knows what else is in here.”
“That’s exactly what I was thinking. Turn it off, and separate the battery from the phone. It will send a signal for the next five hours, but he knows where you are already.”
Frustrated, I rip the battery off, and throw my phone on the bed. Wish I never had the damn thing. Could they have been listening to my calls as well? No wonder they knew everything…
“How are you coping?” Suzy asks. “Sorry, that’s a stupid question.”
I can feel the walls closing in again. I feel helpless in here suddenly, captive. I want to be out there, doing something. Restlessness prickles my skin. I get up and start to pace the room.
“Would it help if I came over?” Suzy asks.
I stop in my tracks. Some company would do me the world of good. There would be an extra pair of eyes to look after Molly as well.
“I can’t ask you to do that.”
Suzy says, “Nonsense. My mum’s down here, and she will help with the girls. I really don’t mind.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, of course. I wouldn’t be saying otherwise. Be a break for me as well.”
“Only if you’re sure. I don’t want to put you out.”
“Don’t be silly. I’ll take the train tomorrow,” Suzy says.
CHAPTER 52
The wind howls and moans outside, and rain lashes against the windows. The farmhouse has four bedrooms upstairs, and I have checked each one, including the one where Dad sleeps. All the windows are secure. Downstairs is as secure as it can be, and Daisy is in the kitchen, sleeping on her rug. She will hear anyone coming in. Both the front and back doors are locked.
I do the rounds one last time and go upstairs. My room faces the back, and it’s above the kitchen. The pantry and galley stretch one floor below me. The roof is triangular. I look out the window and watch the black, torrid night, the furious storm spending itself against the dales and hills. I can make out the dim outline of the barn and the animal pen. The poor sheep are huddled inside the pen tonight, and I spare them a thought.
Although its ten pm, and raining buckets, there is some light. There’s a full moon up there, and its scudding between clouds like a one-eyed monster, hidden behind shadows in the sky. That’s why I can see the barnyard, and the grounds around it.
I don’t like it. It means anyone looking at the rear of the farmhouse can see us. I close the curtains and lean back. I tiptoe downstairs, and go to the cupboard behind the pantry. Daisy wakes up and growls, then whines when she recognises my scent.
“Shh, good girl.” I pat her on the head and she lies back down, tail wagging once.
I punch in my mother’s date of birth on the digital keypad, a lock clicks, and the door falls open. I take the Remington 600 out, and check the magazine is loaded. I make sure the safety’s on and go back upstairs.
Molly is breathing softly. I lean the gun next to the bedside table, within easy reach. I don’t get fully undressed. Unhooking my bra, I lie down in my jeans and T-shirt. My socks are on and slip-on shoes are by the bed. I close my eyes and try to relax.
That’s when I hear the phone buzz. It’s on the bedside table. I pick it up and catch my breath. Someone is trying to ring me, and again, its caller ID withheld. I don’t want to answer, but a strange compulsion is drawing the shining screen closer to my ear.
I hold it there, and go to the window. Nothing has changed outside, it’s the same view. The phone keeps buzzing, and I know if I hold it for two minutes it’s going to ring out. Then what? Is it going to ring again?
I press answer. There’s static and I hear something else. The sound of rain and wind. Whoever this is, he or she is standing outside.
“Can’t sleep?” the deep voice says. I close my eyes, clench my teeth and swallow. A warm, rich voice that at any other time I would enjoy listening to. Now it sends shivers down my spine.
“What do you want, Clive?”
He pauses again, and I wonder if he’s enjoying this, watching me squirm. It would be right up his alley.
“What’s rightfully mine.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t I? Apart from the obvious, I know you want to get back with me.”
I bite on my lower lip. “Clive, you are deluded, and you need help.”
“It’s not me that needs help.”
“Stop this!” I whisper. I leave the room and come out on the landing, closing the door gently behind me. I don’t want to wake Molly up.
“Leave me alone, I mean it. I’m going to police tomorrow.”
He laughs. “What police? The nearest town is thirty miles away.”
“I’m going to call the detectives down in London and tell them you’re here.”
“You do that. When they realise you left without telling them, I’m sure they’ll be thrilled.”
We both pause for a while. This has gone on long enough. “I’m hanging up,” I say.
“You need to do something.” His voice suddenly has an edge to it. “Unless you want Molly to suffer.”
I feel familiar emptiness inside me, and I lean backwards, feeling the cold stone wall.
He says, “You will call Jeremy and bring him up here. Make up some sob story. You’re suicidal. I don’t care what the story is. When he’s up here, take him for a walk near the ridge where you saw me. All you have to do is push. The fall is more than a hundred feet. It will look like an accident.”
My hands are claws, digging into my thighs. “I will never do that. Ever. You hear me? Ever.”
He pauses for a while, and I can hear his breathing.
“Then get ready for what’s coming your way.” He hangs up with a click.
CHAPTER 53
I can feel the cold, hard slab of the rock as I lie over it. The sharp points press into my skin but right now I’m oblivious to the pain. There’s a sharp fall, way down below in the distance obscured by mist and rain. Hills loom all around me. I look over and panic makes me scream. But only a guttural choke comes out of my throat. Molly is hanging over the ledge, her thin, tiny arm clutching a tree branch poking out. Her feet are dangling in the air. Wind swirls around her, making her little body shake.
“Help me, Mummy!” she cries.
I’m reaching down as far as I can without falling over myself. I shout at her to reach for me, but I know she can’t.
“Mummy! Mummy!”
The wind is shaking my body. I hear her call again, right in my ear.
“Mummy!!”
My eyes fly open. Frigid, cold light is suffusing the whitewashed ceiling above my head. Momentarily, the dark night is banished. My daughter’s coppery curls are dangling over my face, and then she comes into sharper focus.
“Mummy, will you wake up? You keep saying my name in your sleep!” she says crossly. I sit up in bed, flinging the covers away. I’m still fully clothed. I clutch my head and rub my eyes. What an awful dream that was. I give Molly a hug, and she doesn’t mind. I can see that she’s put on her clothes, brushed her hair in front of my dressing table and tied her hair back in a ponytail. She’s such a disciplined little girl.
“Have you brushed your teeth?”
She rolls her eyes and does her best not to flop forward in mock desperation. “Yesssss! I’m hungry.”
I get up and check the time. Its 9.30. Without going to the bathroom I take her downstairs and fix her a bowl of cereal. I leave an apricot jam croissant on a plate for her then go back upstairs to get ready. I can’t help glancing at the shadows under my eyes. My freckles seem to
have grown darker as well, on the bridge of my nose, spreading to my upper cheeks. I look tired, hung-over.
Dad’s not in the house so he must have started the day’s work. He gets up at six like clockwork. I have a message from Suzy that makes me happy. She’s on her way, and will hire a car from Skipton, the town nearest to us, and drive down. It makes sense, as the trains are slow and prone to delays.
I call Dad and he answers. He’s at the fences, downhill, opening the gates for the cattle to roam in and out. I stroll into the kitchen holding the phone. Molly hasn’t started eating her croissant.
She holds the croissant up and asks, “Can’t Grandpa make me the scrambled eggs and bacon again?”
Her appetite seems to have got a boost in the hilly air. “I can make it if you like. Are you sure you want some?”
She nods vigorously, so I set about to cook her a fry-up. The phone is in my pocket, and apart from Suzy’s messages, it hasn’t buzzed. I am on tenterhooks, waiting for it to happen. Molly plays around downstairs while I finish cooking then I call for her. When she sits down I go upstairs and bring the gun back down. I put the gun in the cupboard and lock it. As the minutes and hours pass by I find myself walking around the house, checking that everything is locked. I go outside and check the perimeter. Leaving Molly locked inside, I take the gun out, and walk to the barn. The cavernous space inside is full of hay and there used to be a horse stable here in the past. Dad got rid of it, and now the place is used to store the tractors.
I’m scared out of my wits, but I hold the gun in front of me, finger on trigger. I switch all the lights on and have a look around inside. A staircase leads upstairs, and I walk up it slowly, gun pointing up. The butt feels solid against my shoulder, but the gun itself now feels heavier. What will I do if Clive suddenly appears in front of me?
Will I have the guts to shoot him? Only time will tell.
The loft space is empty apart from old building tools. I come down the stairs, lock the barn door and hurry back into the house. I call for Molly as soon as I get in the back door and she answers from the kitchen. Relief washes over me.
I need to call the police. I have the cards of Rockford and Ingram in my purse. I call Rockford first, and he answers. I explain to him where I am, and that Clive is here as well.
“Mrs Mansell.” His tone is reproachful, and cold. “I did tell you that as a suspect in the murder of Timothy Burton-Smyth, your presence will be needed for more questioning.”
“It’s not like I’ve run off to Spain, is it? This is my family home, and I’ve only come back for a rest. And I’m calling you to inform you of where I am.”
He sighs, and I sense he knows he’s not going to win this battle. I am not under arrest and they can’t stop me from doing anything.
He says, “I have no jurisdiction up there, you know that. If this man is still chasing, have you tried speaking to the local police?”
“The local police is twenty miles away, and even that’s a sleepy little town. Can you not liaise with them, seeing that you know about my case already?”
“Well, that’s the difficulty, Mrs Mansell. I know very little about your case. You said you didn’t know who impersonated your husband, and then you said it was him. And no one has seen him as yet…”
“Apart from my husband. He was standing opposite our house, and Jeremy went out to meet him, but he’d already left.”
“So there was no ID. It could have been anybody.”
I talk to him for a bit longer, but am still unable to make him promise me that he will contact the homicide detectives in Skipton. Frustrated, I hang up.
The rain has relented for now, spent out with the storm. It’s still cloudy and cold outside, but it’s a relief to have some dry weather. Dad comes in from the back, Daisy at his heels.
“You ought to get outside,” Dad says. “Stretch your feet. I’ll be around, don’t worry. Take Molly out for a walk.”
I’m still not sure about venturing outside. Especially with Molly. I know it sounds silly, but I’m not in the mood. I want to wait till Suzy gets here. As I make some breakfast for Dad, I hear the sound of a car coming up the narrow road to the farmhouse. Speak of the Devil.
I look out from the front window, and the car is a 4x4, the type that Eva used to drive. I’m worried suddenly, and watch carefully as the vehicle pulls up into the drive. Suzy alights from it, and I sigh in relief. I wouldn’t put it past Eva to brazenly pop over, still keeping up the best friend façade. Suzy is definitely my closest friend now, and she’s here when I need her.
She pulls out her travel bag from the boot, and we hug, on the gravel driveway.
“Gosh, it’s lovely down here,” Suzy says. “If you had said, I would’ve come up with you in the beginning!”
“Wait till it’s summer. That’s when it’s really nice. How’s Margaret?”
“Very well. Putting on weight and chugging on her milk bottle night and day.”
“I really can’t thank you enough for coming up.”
“Oh, nonsense. A break like this will do me the world of good. I can get a whole night’s sleep! You know how much of a luxury that is right now. Let Paul stay up for a night for once.” She giggles.
We go inside, and I introduce Dad to Suzy. I put the kettle on as they chat. Molly comes downstairs, and stands by me, watching Suzy.
After tea and chocolate cake, which is fresh and from the village, I take Suzy upstairs. I show her the room next to mine, which always served as the guest room.
Suzy flops down on the queen-sized bed, a happy expression on her face. “Great. Feels like I’ve come home, too.”
CHAPTER 54
The browsing, low cloud banks are settling over the hills again. Its three pm but looks like seven. The sky has gone from lead-grey to a threatening dark, and I can smell rain in the air as I lean out of the back door. I tell Suzy now would be a good time to go for a walk. She agrees.
Molly comes with us, and Dad gives us a lift in the buggy. He stops near the animal pen and goes inside, while we go for a stroll. We are warmly wrapped up, with wellies on. As yet, it hasn’t rained yet despite forecasts which is a miracle. But I can feel it on its way.
We walk down close to the forest near the edge of our grounds. The perimeter fence, a drystone wall, is not for another half a mile after, but we seldom go that far. I point out the ledge where I saw Clive. There’s a valley between us, a deep pit of space that I find protective. But when someone is as determined as Clive, I have a feeling I won’t be safe anywhere. The thought fills me with dread, and also anger.
After a while we head back. Dad is waiting for us, and Molly rides back with him in the front, much to her delight. It’s time to think about dinner, but I feel restless again, and something is biting inside me. A sense of unease is bothering me again, like danger is creeping towards the farmhouse, and I can’t do anything about it.
Part of me wants to relinquish my fear, and go out there. Gun in hand if need be, and I want to walk around, keeping guard. Clive can come and get me if he wants. But I know that’s a foolish idea. The rain and cold will kill me with hypothermia long before Clive finds me. The elements must be a deterrent for him as well, and I wonder what his plans are.
I talk to Suzy and it helps. It stops me from looking out the window every five seconds, or getting up to look for the source of every unusual sound. Suzy looks in the fridge while I check the freezer in the pantry, and I discover the lamb casserole that I wanted to cook tonight won’t be made as there’s no lamb. In fact, we are down to a supply of essentials, and I should have gone shopping today.
“Why don’t the two of us go to the nearest supermarket and get some stuff?” Suzy asks.
I smile. “The Tesco is in Skipton, thirty miles away. But there is a village store in Askrigg, about ten miles away.”
Dad says, “If you’re going, then don’t wait about. The village store and butcher’s shut at five.”
“Come on,” Suzy says. “We can drive d
own in my car.”
“Come on, Molly,” I say.
“No,” Molly says. “I wanna stay here.” She’s got her Harry Potter book and the iPad out on the kitchen table.
Dad says, “Don’t worry, lassie. She’ll be fine with me. Won’t you, Mollykins?”
I hesitate. I’m not happy with having Molly out of sight. I look at Dad, and I can tell that he sees the anxiety written plainly on my face.
“Look,” Dad says. “I got a gun here, and I know how to use it. Anyone comes in here that shouldn’t, there’s no way he’s getting out on two legs. I can promise you that.”
Suzy says, “We won’t be gone long, will we?”
Dad says, “An hour, at the very most.”
Finally, I agree. Dad’s right. He’s tough as a grizzly bear, and I know he’ll die protecting Molly, if need be.
I give Molly a hug, then Suzy and I get in the car. The 4x4 is spacious inside, and smells of the rubber seats and petrol. Suzy drives well, which is good considering she’s always been a city driver. The rain arrives as we drive down, a drizzle that falls steadily.
It’s half-four by the time we get there, and the village high street, a five-store parade of shops, is almost empty. Only the two pubs, one of them a hotel as well, look busy with the lights on. We do our shopping as quickly as we can, and then haul our stuff back into the car. I buy a joint of lamb, vegetables and various other essentials, and Suzy helps me carry them back to the car.
The rain has increased steadily, and it’s no longer a drizzle. Our journey back takes longer, Suzy forced to drive slower. The fat drops pelt steadily against the windscreen and the wipers swing back and forth like the restlessness inside me.
We get to the farm finally, a glow of yellow amongst the inky-dark hills, shrouded in rain. The car crunches gravel, and stops near the front door. I look at the light on the porch, and my heart jumps in my mouth. A crazy dance starts in my head. The door is open. I locked it before I left. It’s only open a crack, but I can tell. Without waiting for Suzy, I jump out and run down.