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BONE BABY: chilling emotional suspense with a killer ending

Page 12

by Diane M Dickson


  “This, this is the proof of what you’ve done. This…”

  He jabbed at a point on the page.

  “This is your son, and this…”

  More jabbing with his finger.

  “This proves it beyond any real doubt. This proves that you had a child, a boy. And this…!” Terry’s face was reddening now, his voice becoming a little louder, the words clipped and angry. “This is the proof of who was the boy’s mother.”

  He couldn’t continue. Lily watched him struggle, there was nothing she could do to help. Silence fell, except for the harsh rattle of Clive Robertson breathing, and the quiet whisper of wind in the trees outside. Rain shushed against the window.

  The old man lifted the paper close to his face, he peered at the writing, turned his head, and stared for one long moment at his son. His eyes were empty of the shock and emotion that should have been there. All there was to see was irritation in his small movements. He cast aside the paper and blew out a puff of breath through pursed lips. And in that moment Lily understood. She saw the hardness, the lack of any sort of concern or guilt. She saw what he was and understood that he would have been able to frighten and control a small child, a lonely woman, and a terrified girl.

  He reached for the paper where it lay on his lap, ripped it in half, tore it again and again and again, until all that was left were shreds and pieces and he tossed them aside.

  “Load of nonsense. Nothing but an inconvenience,” he stumbled over the word, tangling it in his damaged mouth. He pressed on, “I dealt with it. If he’s turned up now send him on his way. I owe him nothing. I did what was best.” He turned with an impatient shrug of his shoulders, stared at the window, watching the drops racing downwards, unmoved, and unafraid.

  Terry looked at the pile of paper scraps and then glanced at Lily. There was nothing she could say.

  He bent and gathered it all together, grasped hold of the old man’s wrist and pushed the debris into his upturned palm.

  “No. No, that’s not what we’re doing. You’re not getting away with this anymore.” Terry pushed his second piece of paper towards the man’s face. “Granddad! Oh no, that’s not quite right is it, Dad.” The final word was loaded with pain. Terry reached and pulled a small footstool towards him. He placed it directly in front of the old man’s chair and perched on it. He leaned forward, resting his forearms across his knees and stared directly into the twisted face. “I don’t want to discuss this with you, back and forth, debating what is and isn’t true. I don’t want to hear anything you might have to say about this. I don’t even want to be here with you, breathing the same polluted air. What I am going to do…” He stopped.

  From where she stood, Lily could see his hands shaking, she could see the gleam of anger in his eyes. She was afraid. Afraid that he wouldn’t be able to finish what he needed to say before emotion got the better of him. She wanted to lay a hand on his shoulder, to give him strength, to let him know that he was not alone. But the atmosphere between the two men held her in place, kept her silent.

  Clive tipped his head to one side, a small smile twisted the thin, pale lips, his drooping facial muscles contorted. Lily gulped, she had her hands clasped together and felt the nails dig into the soft skin of her palms. She was immobile, didn’t want the old man to remember she was there. He was worn down by disease, and reduced by age, but she felt the power emanating from him. The strength of his ego, his confidence. She closed her eyes briefly.

  When she opened them, Terry had regained control and was speaking again, quietly, clearly, “Let me tell you what’s going to happen now. I’m going to print out more copies of those reports. Both of them.” Clive lifted his chin in reaction, Terry nodded before continuing. “Oh come on, even you must know I can make any number of copies. I can print them off over and over and over and you can tear them up as many times as you like, but they’ll still be there. Did you really think I would be stupid enough to give you the original? So, I’m taking them to the police. I’m taking them to the papers, I’m probably even going to take them to the bloody Masons, I can send them a copy – should I do that? – should I?”

  There was a flicker of something that could have been anxiety, the prospect of shame amongst his peers, the only thing to have evoked anything approaching the reaction Lily had been expecting.

  Terry was still speaking, “This is the last time I’m going to come here old man. The next time you see me will probably be in court. And then it will be all out in the open. The disgusting things you did to me, the things you made me do to you. The truth about Mum and the baby that you sold. All of it, and then, you’ll pay.” He leaned back and prepared to stand.

  Clive Robertson coughed, snorted and began to speak. He gripped the chair armrests, his own arms tense and shaking, bony knuckles white under loose, papery skin. “You won’t do that. You won’t do anything like that. I know you Terrance.” It was the first time she had heard his given name and Lily could tell from Terry’s reaction that it was a deliberate barb. “I know you. You won’t risk your easy life, your car and your flat, and your wages. You do anything with this…” He moved now and threw the shreds of paper back towards Terry. His hand was weak, the result was a flutter of white bits onto the blanket across his knees. It spoilt the effect he had been aiming for, and with a huff of impatience he swept them aside.

  “You tell anyone about this garbage and I’ll cut you off, without a penny. I’ll take back the flat, have you evicted. What are you going to do then – huh? What will you be? You’ve got no qualifications, no experience, except running around after me. Lap dog, that’s what you are, my lap dog. Bought and paid for. And how do you think you’ll be treated, eh? How do you think people will look at you? ‘Why didn’t you say something before now?’ That’s what they’ll say. Taking advantage of a poor sick man who can’t stick up for himself. Telling lies to get your hands on the money. Jumping on the bandwagon of all the other cases. Don’t be ridiculous. Take this nonsense.” He pointed a quaking finger towards the floor. “And take this bloody witness, if that’s what she is, and bugger off. Get out, get out, and don’t come back until I send for you.”

  He leaned against the chair back, his physical strength was spent but his eyes were hard, and his mouth twisted into a sneer as he glared at them both.

  Terry had taken all he could. He turned to Lily, raised his eyebrows in question, she nodded and then walked before him to the door. She paused, stood for a moment staring forward.

  “Are you alright?” He placed his hand on her shoulder.

  She nodded, stood for a moment longer before reaching for the door handle, and then they left the room. They stepped back down the great staircase and out into the damp and breezy day.

  As they walked to the car, Lily leaned on the arm that Terry had offered. She could feel the thud of blood through her veins, pounding in the back of her head. Once in the car she struggled to control her breathing and rubbed at her chest.

  “Are you alright, Lily? I shouldn’t have subjected you to that.”

  “It was my idea. I’m alright. Well, I will be in a minute.” She opened her bag and took out one of the pills to calm her down. “Are you alright, Terry? That was awful for you. I don’t know what I was expecting, but he is so much worse than I could have imagined.”

  “Lily, why did you come today? It was so odd, in there I realised that I hadn’t really understood. I mean, I just thought it would be good from my point of view to have someone there with me, but why did you agree to come?”

  She shook her head and answered him in little more than a whisper, “I think I was looking for Peter. I’ve always wondered what he would have been like. I just wanted to see him, Peter’s father. But apart from that I wanted to be with you. I started this, you were coping and I spoiled that for you. It was too hard for you to do on your own.”

  That was all she needed to tell him, the rest of it was for her and her alone.

  Chapter 35

  Terry looked
at his watch. “It’s nearly two o’clock. We haven’t eaten yet. Do you want to go with me and have some lunch?”

  Lily nodded. She didn’t know when or if she would see him again and under what circumstances. At least this could be a memory, not altogether happy, but with him at least.

  He started the car and glanced around before speaking again, “I can’t be too long, I have a couple of meetings this afternoon. Just some leases to sign and what have you, but it has to be done.”

  “So, you’re going to keep on working for him?”

  They were nearing the end of the drive, he slowed and then stopped between the iron gates.

  “I don’t have much choice. He’s right, I don’t have anything else. He had me out of school as soon as he could, and then brought me into working for him.”

  He paused until he had pulled out onto the narrow road heading back to Bath.

  “I didn’t mind to be honest. I had trouble dealing with strangers, back then, when I was younger. At least with him I knew what I was getting and he was leaving me alone. You know, all that stuff had stopped. I like the work. It’s mainly organising, agents, contractors and what have you. I can do a lot on the phone and, being the owner, you are automatically on top, aren’t you? I don’t know what I’d do if I didn’t do this and I always told myself it would be mine one day. Might not work out quite that way now, but it still has to be kept going. Some things I’d like to do differently. But he won’t have any changes, and his solicitor keeps a tight rein on things. Between the two of them they clip my wings a bit.”

  “When are you going to the police?”

  “I’m going to find a solicitor first. Not his, obviously. Not even one from around here, I can’t risk that it would be someone he knows. I need to find one with experience of handling this sort of stuff. I think I’m going to have to start with one of those agencies, the helpline things.”

  “So, you haven’t started anything yet?”

  He turned quickly and looked at her, gave her a wry grin. “I think I just did, didn’t I?”

  She nodded and touched his hand briefly. “You were very brave.”

  “I was very angry. Anyway, it’s on the way now. I wanted to do it this way, so there was no chance of bottling it. I’ve told him, so there’s no way back. Now I just have to keep on going. I’ll let you know what’s happening at every stage. I still wish there was a way to keep your name out of it.”

  “Don’t worry about me, Terry, just do whatever you have to do.” As she spoke she felt a quick spark of guilt. It was damped down by the knowledge that she was going to do the right thing, the only thing, that would sort this out once and for all. For all of them.

  He nodded. “Right, I know a nice little restaurant, not too far from the station, what time is your train?”

  “I bought an open ticket.”

  “Good. Good, we’ll have lunch and then I’ll take you into town.”

  She managed to eat a salad, she had a glass of wine, because he wanted to buy her one, and she felt some of the tension lift.

  After the nursing home visit, she was beset with doubts about her ability. Clive Robertson was so much stronger and more able than she had anticipated. She had thought of a weak, partially incapacitated old man and, though he was certainly not fit, neither was she. No matter, she would enjoy this couple of hours and then take things as they came. The decision was made.

  She lifted her glass. “Good luck Terry. I know you’ll be alright. You will.”

  He raised his glass in response and nodded. He smiled at her. Even though he was not the Peter of her imagination, she saw now that he was all she would have hoped for, and more besides.

  All those years ago, there had been a sacrifice required to save the baby. In the end, they had been found wanting, and their own fear of exposure, and their self-interest had stood in the way of what was right. That wasn’t going to happen now. Charlotte Mary would have judged her insane. But then, when it came to it, hadn’t she destroyed everything they had by her actions? She was gone, and this was Lily’s decision, and it was made.

  All too soon the little interlude was over. He glanced at his watch and sighed.

  “Are you in a hurry?” She began to gather up her things.

  “Well a bit, yes, I have some stuff to do. If you don’t mind…”

  She tapped him on the arm. “You go, I know you’re busy, there’s really no need to delay any longer.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, of course. Off you go. I’ll be alright, it’s not far from here.”

  She watched as he drove away. She raised a hand to wave, but he didn’t look back and she felt rather foolish standing on the roadside watching his car disappear into the traffic. When she was sure there was no chance of him coming back she turned and walked into town, past the station. It wasn’t far to the hotel that she had booked into earlier in the day. She collected her key and went up to her room. She would rest now. There was a kettle and things to make a drink, she had all she needed for the moment.

  Chapter 36

  Timing was important, vital, so Lily set an alarm. After she woke, she made a drink, took a shower, then dressed in the same clothes as before – they had to recognise her at The Grange.

  The hotel reception was empty, so she rang the bell. Almost immediately a young woman appeared behind the counter.

  Lily smiled at her. “I wonder,” she said, “could you call a taxi for me?”

  “Yes, of course, madam. Where are you going?”

  “The Grange. It’s a nursing home, just outside town. I don’t know the area I’m afraid.”

  “I’m sure the driver will know it. What name is it?”

  “Bowers. My name is Lily Bowers.”

  She moved to a low leather settee in an alcove beside the front door. Her heart was thundering, her throat dry. She began to count slowly backwards from a hundred. She concentrated on the rhythm of the numbers in her mind, struggled to slow her breathing and fought against the claws tightening across her chest.

  When the taxi arrived, the driver didn’t bother to get out of the car, he blew the horn and turned to her as Lily slid into the back seat. “The Grange is it, love?”

  “Yes. Do you know it?”

  “I do. Fasten your belt.”

  As she fumbled with the buckle, he drew away and out into the early evening traffic. Lily leaned her head against the seat back and watched the reflection of the shops and street lamps flashing past in the car windows, projected and slightly distorted on the glass. She was floating, watching herself from above, unreal and unattached. It wasn’t unpleasant and she didn’t fight against it. It was calming.

  She hadn’t realised that her eyes had closed and was startled when the driver disturbed her half sleep. He had pulled to the centre of the road and was indicating, ready to turn. She glanced around her.

  “Here we are love. Up to the front door, is it? Only, you didn’t say. It’s not the nurses’ lodging you want?”

  “No, that’s right, the front door. Lovely.”

  “Will you be wanting a ride back?”

  “Oh, I suppose I will, yes.” Her mind had not gone further than the task in front of her, but of course there might be an afterwards.

  “There’s a card on the back ledge, just ring that number. Ask for Mike, that’s me. You have to phone and book. Regulations, you know.”

  “Thank you so much, Mike.” She tipped him generously and then, as a final thought, she turned back and leaned towards the taxi. “What time is it please?”

  “It’s just after six.”

  That was all that she could do. It ought to be enough, to ensure that she was remembered.

  As she pushed open the front door she waved a hand in greeting at the receptionist. “Hello, hello. I’m really sorry. I know it’s not visiting time or anything, but I was here earlier with my friend.”

  “Yes, I remember. Are you feeling better now?”

  “I am, thank you. I feel so
foolish though. I was so befuddled earlier, and when we left Clive, I forgot my spectacles. We’d been having such a time, looking at some old photographs, and I put them on the table. It wasn’t until I needed them later that I realised how careless I’d been.”

  “Oh, don’t worry, I’ll just ring for someone.”

  “No, no, don’t do that. I’ll just pop up there and collect them.” She gave a little laugh. “It’ll give me another chance to see him.”

  “Have you known him for a long time?”

  She nodded. “We go back a very long way.”

  “Well, he will probably be in bed now. He has his dinner in his room.”

  Lily flapped a hand and chuckled. “Oh, he won’t mind. I’m sorry about this. You must be getting ready to go home as well. I don’t want to be a bother. Look, let me just pop up there and collect my specs. I’ll maybe sit with him a while, if he’s not too tired, and then I’ll leave him alone.” She allowed her face to grow solemn. “I don’t know if I’ll get another chance to come and see him. I live quite a long way from here and, well as you saw earlier today, I’m not terribly well.”

  It was enough. The receptionist’s natural kindness, combined with her wish to finish her shift tipped the balance. “Alright Mrs erm…”

  “Miss, Miss Bowers, Lily.”

  “The front door will be locked when I leave, so if you just use that side corridor…” She pointed in the direction of a narrow hallway. “The night-time entrance is about halfway along.”

  “Thank you so much. You are terribly kind. Clive is fortunate to be here while he’s not well.”

  She took her time on the stairs, leaning on the banister and turning to watch as the receptionist locked the front door, and with a final glance towards Lily, left the entrance hall.

  The lights had been subdued and the bustle of the day had quieted.

  Lily stood for a moment in front of Clive’s room. She reached out and pushed the door open just a crack, the way that Terry had done on their visit earlier in the day. Clive was propped in his bed with a mound of pillows around him. He stared forward, and the sound of the television news murmured in the background. A small table on casters had been prepared with cutlery and a drink. The jangle of the meal service drew nearer and Lily glanced around. She must take care now, the last thing she needed was to burst in on another patient.

 

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