She was tiptoeing forward and trusting in fate, and karma, and luck and how Charlotte Mary would have laughed at the mess she was in just because she had tried to do the right thing.
It was a long time before her nerves began to settle. She paced through the house, lifting the bag over and over and peering at the contents. Eventually though, exhaustion overtook her and she drifted into an uneasy sleep.
Woken after just a few hours by the birds and the noise of cars and children and life, her first thought was of the grave. The bag of hair was in the kitchen. It lay on the table and she picked it up and held it to the light from the window. It was almost devoid of colour, certainly not the dark cap that had so delighted them, but she didn’t see that as a problem. It was old and anyway there was nothing more she could do. When Terry rang, she would arrange for him to collect it and then await the outcome.
Chapter 26
He didn’t look at it. When Terry came to collect what he referred to as ‘the lock of hair’, she had put the plastic bag into a small brown envelope. She handed it to him and he made no attempt to open it.
“How are you, Lily?”
“I’m alright, thank you.”
In truth, she was feeling stronger. In the two days since she had called him, her spirits had strengthened. She had looked forward to seeing Terry again, the prospect cheered her. She was clearer now about what she was doing. The end might still be hidden in mist, but each step forward gave her strength. Revenge. She didn’t shy from the word.
They were sitting in the living room. He waved the envelope in the air. “I appreciate this. I can only imagine how hard it must be for you and I’m very grateful.”
He must never know how hard it had been. She wanted to let him know that she wasn’t an old fogey with no understanding of technology. “I looked it up, what they need. I think that will do.”
“Thank you.”
“Will you let me know? Please, will you keep me informed about what happens?”
“Of course I will. It won’t be fast. It’s not just a simple test and it could take a few weeks. I’ve been researching. I know where I’m going to send it. I’m waiting for a kit from them, to get a sample from him.” As Terry spoke he rose from the settee and crossed the small space between them. Lily was astounded when he bent to kiss her cheek. “I’ll tell you everything that’s going on. I’m determined now, with all of this, I am determined that he’s going to pay, for this at least. I’ll come again, maybe next week if that’s alright? See how you are, let you know what’s happening.”
“Oh, yes please. That would be wonderful. Thank you.”
“Hey, I meant what I said. I’m the one who’s grateful and after all you’ve been through, you deserve to be kept in the picture. Then, when it’s all over, we’ll take the ashes.” He nodded towards the china cabinet. “We’ll bury them, but only if you still want to.”
And the brief sunshine went out of her world, because of course he didn’t know.
“If it’s proved that he is Peter’s father, what will you do?”
He had regained his seat on the settee and before he answered, Terry took a moment, collecting his thoughts, or maybe deciding how best to explain his plan.
“So, the first thing is to get the tests done. It all hinges on them really. I could go to the authorities even before that, and tell them about what he did to me, but that feels a bit feeble. After all this time, what would be the point anyway?”
“I thought you wanted to expose him?”
“Yes, I do. But it’s going to be so much better to have solid proof. Scientific evidence of what he did with his own daughter, as well as benefitting by selling the baby instead of doing the right thing, and taking responsibility.” This was the first time he had named the crime so very clearly. As he did she saw him clench his fists, and a nerve in his jaw jumped under the skin.
“Well, right…” He paused. “I’ll have powerful ammunition to expose him. Most of these cases, the ones that you see on the news, the victims have been outsiders, haven’t they? Pupils or – oh, I don’t know, choir boys, you know what I mean, and it’s hearsay and just victims trying to convince people. I couldn’t face that. All the doubt that there always is, but with this…” He held up the envelope. “It’s irrefutable, isn’t it? Everyone knows that this goes on in families, uncles, cousins, and I suppose aunts as well sometimes, and yes, fathers. I’m not a crusader. I wish I was, I wish I was that brave, but, to be honest, I just think that I want to shame him. This is about me and him.
“I know some people will probably say I’ve only done it for the money, but I don’t need to. I have all I need now, okay I don’t own it, but I will in time. But it would be good to see it taken away from him when they throw him in jail. Mainly, I just want to let people know and for me to feel that he didn’t get away scot-free. When I was younger I wished him dead, over and over. I would pretend, when I woke up in the morning, I would pretend that he was lying there in the next room dead. I still do sometimes. But maybe it’ll be enough for me to be able to take everything away from him.
“All these years of pretending that we were ordinary. It’s there every day, you know? No matter how hard you try to push it away. Well perhaps it’ll be enough to let people know that he is anything but normal.”
“Do you think there was ever anyone else?”
“Oh shit, I have thought about that so much. I’ve tried to remember, you know, if there were kids around the house when I was younger. He was never in charge of any kids but…”
“Yes?” Lily urged him on.
“I think it’s possible. He was a landlord. He had plenty of flats and he used to do the rounds, collecting rents. He did it himself back in those days. Before it was all done by direct debit and standing order. There were rent books and he used to go and collect cash. Sometimes he would take me with him.”
Lily nodded, and listened quietly.
He carried on, “Mostly I went in with him, to the houses, the flats. He used to say he was training me. Sometimes I was plonked in front of the television while he had a ‘talk’ with the woman who was there, usually upstairs or in the front rooms. But, every so often, he would make me wait in the car. Sometimes we’d have other blokes with us, his friends, and I was told not to talk to them, keep my mouth shut. I would sit in the back seat and there was a feeling about it all that used to scare me. Then they’d go into places, houses mostly but sometimes shops or workshops. He’d give me some sweets, put the radio on.” Terry shook his head. “I didn’t ask questions, but now – well I just wonder and I hate the conclusions I come to. When you’re in that sort of situation you just count your blessings when nothing happens to you. The whole thing is hideous.”
Again, Lily nodded her understanding. She spoke low and quiet, “So, if there were other women, children maybe, do you think you’d get them to come forward?”
“I don’t know. It’s possible, isn’t it?”
“It’s going to ruin your family.”
“There is no family left. There was only ever the four of us. It doesn’t matter, there’s nothing left to ruin. Well nothing but him and that’s the idea. Before you came, showing me that receipt and telling me about what had happened to my mum’s other baby, to my brother, well I had pretty much given up. I thought I’d just wait until the old swine gave up and died. I decided that I could just wait and then enjoy spending his money. Whatever is left when the nursing home is paid for. He’s in the lap of luxury even now and it’s not on, not any more. Now, though, when I think of what he put her through, and me – and I don’t know, maybe there are others – now, I think I want it all to come out.”
“All of it?”
“Yes, all of it, it’s sort of the next best thing to seeing him dead and gone. Maybe it’s even better than that. I have thought about it, yes. It’s going to have an effect on you, isn’t it? I have been worried about it. I need to put some ideas to you. Are you well enough?”
She realise
d that she had frightened him with the attack in the pub, it made him seem so very sweet, vulnerable. “Yes, I’m alright. I’m feeling better these last few days.” And she was, sometimes she forgot how ill she was and planned for a future, one that was free of the guilt, one where she had made some sort of recompense. It was novel and very pleasant.
“Good. Yes, that’s great. So, I’ll tell you what I have thought and you can take some time, consider the idea, and then let me know what you feel. I don’t want to cause you trouble, you didn’t do anything wrong, not you personally.”
She couldn’t answer him, she turned away and took the mugs into the kitchen. She looked from where she stood by the sink and stared at the cellar door. If he knew, would he still think she had done no wrong?
Chapter 27
When Lily went back into the living room, Terry was looking out of the window, his back to the room. He obviously didn’t know she was there and she watched him, quietly. His hands were clenched behind him and his head bowed. She heard him sniff, he pushed a hand into his jeans pocket to take out his handkerchief, and as he wiped at his eyes she was overwhelmed with tenderness.
She turned and crept back into the hall and stamped her feet on the carpet. By the time she came through the door a second time, he had turned, and was stepping back towards the settee.
“So, your plan?” She smiled at him as she spoke. Her arms ached to hug him. She wanted to ease his hurt. All the years of longing for the baby in the basement were concentrated in this room. All the nurturing instincts that had been subdued and denied were flooding through her, and she felt strange, light-headed.
He was serious as he answered her. “If I’m to use the fact that Clive sold his own baby then, obviously, I have to be able to say who bought him, where he went. You do see that, don’t you?”
“Yes, of course.”
“But I don’t want to make you suffer any more than you have done. You’ve told me that it was Charlotte who started it, and that you didn’t know anything about it. I believe you. I think that you would have made a good mother for him, if he’d lived. I don’t know about her obviously, but you… Yes, I think you would have been a good mum, and I think it’s horrible that you weren’t given the chance. So, why don’t we simply leave you out of it?”
“I don’t see what you mean. I don’t see how we can do that. I was here, I held him.”
“I know, but it was such a short time. From what you said nobody saw him. You didn’t take him out?”
Lily shook her head.
“So, is it possible to pretend you didn’t know until she died and you were given those things? Is it possible that she could have had him and not told you? We could make up some story about the urn, the cremation, just make out that you didn’t know any of it and you’re as shocked as anyone.”
She’d been a coward long enough, she wasn’t doing that any more.
“No, we lived together. We were nearly always together, up until then, until his death came between us.”
“You said she had an affair.”
“Yes, but it was a sordid little incident. A few afternoons sneaking away with someone who was young and interesting. I don’t think she ever really intended to leave me.” Lily paused. “I don’t think she did but… Oh, none of that matters any more, does it? The point is, nobody would believe she could bring a baby home and I wouldn’t know.”
She thought for a minute before continuing. “Though I haven’t got many of our friends from back then, there are enough to raise doubt. If they become aware of it all, and they surely must, they’ll be shaking their heads and having their say.” She drew in a deep breath. “Look, Terry, I think that anything that will weaken your case, anything that will give people something to point at and say well, that’s not true, has to be discounted. Let’s just go forward and see what happens. I’m old Terry, I’m old and spent and tired, and if the last thing I can do is to help you find some sort of peace then, well it might make up for… It might make up for what we did.”
Terry took out his handkerchief again and blew his nose. “Thank you. Thank you, Lily. It’s true, what I said, you would have made a wonderful mother.”
* * *
He had gone and Lily felt exhausted, mentally and physically, but her spirits had lifted. The cloud of depression that had become so much part of her every day had been driven back. What had been a background dread, had become a real possibility, and oddly, it was easier to handle. Her mind was alive with plans.
She went downstairs and spoke to the baby in the grave. “Well, little man. People are going to know about you. Not everything, I’m sorry, not all of it. I will have to keep this little secret, won’t I? But they will know you were, they’ll know your name. We’re moving forward. It’s all going to work out.”
She heard knocking upstairs and went to answer the door to Sandra. Her neighbour carried a plate with a cloth over it. She held it forward. “I won’t come in, I’m expecting Roger, but I made a casserole, chicken. Will you have some?” The aroma, drifting from under the cover made Lily’s mouth water, suddenly, she felt ravenous.
“Thank you. Thank you very much. I really do appreciate your kindness.” She took the plate.
Sandra beamed at her. “You’re looking better. How are you feeling?”
“Yes, better, thank you.”
“I saw your visitor leaving. Is that Charlotte’s nephew, the one you told me about?”
“No, he’s just a friend. A dear friend.”
“Well, he’s done you good, coming here. It’s nice to see you so much brighter.”
Lily sat at the kitchen table. She ate the casserole, which was delicious, and then she went upstairs and crawled under the covers. She felt herself falling into a dark, warm space and she let herself go. She slept until morning, her dreams were vivid but they were kind – sunshine and happiness.
Chapter 28
She filled the days with sorting and cleaning, and she waited.
In the quiet house, several times she picked up her phone, opened the contacts list and looked at his name. She knew that there was no point calling him. He had told her that he had to wait for the DNA kit, to take a sample from his grandfather.
She did some more research online, but it wasn’t possible to get a clear idea of how long it would take for the result to be sent to him. The calibre of the lab he had chosen, the samples he had from his mother’s belongings – there was so much information that she wasn’t a party to.
Every evening, she took a new candle down into the cellar. She carried a folding chair one day and placed it in the corner near to the grave.
Sometimes she would talk, but often sat in silence, watched the flame, and let her mind wander. She remembered the years with Charlotte Mary. The ups and downs, and though there was much to regret, there had been good times too and she found herself smiling at those memories.
She recalled the awful days when Peter had died, the terrible arguments about what they should do and the dreadful decision that they came to. She had always believed it was wrong and knew it had blighted the rest of her existence. Charlotte Mary seemed to have shrugged it off, but now, there was this legacy of the tiny plastic bracelet and the clue to his name and origin. How sad, she had believed they knew each other so very well and it hadn’t been true. She wondered what other options they could have chosen and how much difference it would have made. Too late, all too late.
Sitting in the gloom, she remembered her own childhood, her mother and father. Maybe, she thought, all this introspection was just her life moving towards the end. She knew that it was. The pain came often, the breathlessness and a feeling of exhaustion. Perhaps this was nature’s way of cleaning and tidying, preparing the way. She should be glad of it, should find comfort in the fact that there had been some warning of how little time there was left.
Charlotte Mary had fought it, every day had been a battle, and in the end, she had been war-weary and demented. As she had sat beside the storm-toss
ed bed, Lily had wondered whether it would not have been kinder to end it for her. Surely there was a way, a kind way to stop the struggle. A pillow placed gently while she slept. How long would it take? Would she have the courage? She had picked up one of the cushions from the small sofa and gripped it tight in her hands. She had moved to stand at the head of the bed, but then her resolve had faltered and, throwing the thing aside, she had been ashamed. Not because she had almost done it, but because in the end she hadn’t. It wasn’t right to watch this suffering and not be able to ease the torment.
That wasn’t the way that Lily wanted it to be, and she collected more pills. She was stockpiling them, storing them away in the bathroom cabinet, and when she was ready, they would be waiting. She was glad now that she hadn’t done it on that other dreadful day. She blessed whatever instinct had stayed her hand. She wanted to see this thing through, to find the truth about the baby and see Terry have justice. This alone was enough to give her the strength to keep going.
In the china cabinet was another unfinished task. She should fix that. Terry no longer needed ashes for the DNA testing, now he had something much better. She could dispose of them. Where would she choose? The Solent? No. Charlotte Mary had never been a beach person. Portsdown Hill? Above the town. No, it wasn’t right. Although Southsea had been their home for decades it wasn’t where they were from. Charlotte Mary had been born abroad, the Far East, and had travelled, far and often. Though there had been stories, there was nowhere that she had said felt like home. Nowhere that she had been called back to.
BONE BABY: chilling emotional suspense with a killer ending Page 9