by Sue Wallman
Poppy starts crying and Auntie Gabs takes her into the lounge to watch TV.
“Now I feel really bad. I didn’t mean to make it worse,” says Evan.
“You haven’t,” says Ivy. “We’re still in shock, that’s all.”
Evan nods. He doesn’t look as if he’s spent much time on his hair this morning either, but it looks good veering off in different directions. There are three cute little moles on his cheek. I imagine joining them up with my finger. “We better go, if you still want to,” he says. “Donna said quarter past eleven was a good time if we wanted to call and talk to her about Alice Billings. But I understand if you’re not up for it…”
“Really?” says Tatum. “Donna’s agreed to talk to us? That’s fantastic!” She adds in a more subdued way, “It’ll help us take our minds off Baz.”
We scrabble to put on shoes and get out of the door. Ivy scribbles a quick note for the adults on the back of a photocopied recipe her mum’s left on the counter. My head hurts as we walk down the side passage, doing up our coats, because my hair is wet and the wind is cold.
Tatum insists on filming us, telling us she needs filler shots for the documentary. I bat her away.
“Oh, come on, you guys being in shot is really going to add authenticity,” she cajoles.
Jakob fiddles with his hat, and Ivy says she can’t walk normally when there’s a camera on her.
“I’m going to have to get you to walk down the driveway again,” says Tatum, and only shuts up when Evan tells her there’s no time, we’re already late for Donna.
“By the way,” he says, when we’re walking along the pavement, “Mum knows we’re going to Donna’s, but Dad thinks I’m hanging out with you to make sure everyone’s OK after, y’know, Baz.”
“Which you are,” says Tatum. “You’re doing a great job.”
Donna’s house is in a wide road of neat bungalows, some with an upper floor bolted on. Hers is the only one with a purple front door. She opens it, wearing a purple jumper and jeans, and mini dreamcatcher earrings. “Hello, my precious,” she says to Evan and grabs him for a hug. “You’re usually out when I’m round at yours. Nice to see you. Had a good Christmas?”
Evan nods and tells her his mum sends her love.
After we’ve taken off our shoes and left our coats on a chair, Donna ushers us into her tidy, narrow kitchen. She asks us how our holiday’s going (we answer politely), if Evan’s mum got the coat she’d been dropping hints about all December (she did), and if Evan’s sister is still going out with the boy who can juggle knives (we stare at Evan). We stand around while the kettle boils, and Donna makes us tea and un-sellotapes a tin of Christmas biscuits.
“Help yourselves,” she says and we dive on the corrugated packaging printed with the biscuit descriptions. “Go down to the bottom layer, if you want.”
Donna takes us through to the lounge. There are purple curtains and a large silver Christmas tree. Ivy, Jakob, Tatum and I squash on to the sofa, leaving the two armchairs for Evan and Donna.
Donna places both her hands round her mug. “I don’t want to say anything I shouldn’t about Alice, but you’re not journalists and you’re staying in her old house so I say, fair enough. I’d want to know what the hell was going on too.”
Pressed up so close to Tatum on the sofa, I’m aware of her reaching into the pocket of her hoodie, and I wonder if she’s recording this conversation on her phone.
“As Evan must have told you, I wasn’t in Alice’s room when she told matron about the body in the garden,” says Donna. “But I did know Alice, and she was quite agitated in her last few days. Matron said she was calm after she’d confessed, but at the time she didn’t know if Alice was hallucinating or if it was real. Of course, if she’d known Alice was going to die so soon afterwards, she’d have asked her lots of questions.”
“D’you think Alice murdered her sister?” asks Tatum.
Donna is taken aback by Tatum’s directness but she must have been anticipating the question. “Oooh, I can’t say,” she says. “You think you know someone but then they turn out not to be the person you thought they were, if you get my drift. But before I heard about the body I’d have said she was a kind, sweet-natured lady. That’s what everyone said at the funeral. Her son John was in total shock.”
“So Alice didn’t say anything else at all?” asks Jakob.
Donna takes a gulp of tea. “She said something about how she was ashamed, but it was rambling and didn’t make sense to Matron. It was a good job Matron reported it to the police, though, wasn’t it?”
“Did she know exactly where in the garden Rose had been buried?” asks Tatum. She’s definitely speaking in her filming voice.
“Yes, I believe so,” says Donna.
This seems the wrong conversation to be having in a room with a silver tree and a frog ornament on the mantelpiece with a Santa hat, holding a sign that says Ho Ho Hoppy Holidays!
“Have you heard anything about how Rose died?” asks Ivy.
Donna shakes her head. “No, not yet. But if people can tell what a Stone Age man died from, they’ll know what happened to that poor wee girl.”
“My little sister says she saw Alice’s ghost,” says Ivy.
“The house has a really weird vibe,” says Tatum.
“You’re only saying that because you know the body was found in the garden,” says Evan.
“As soon as I stepped into the house, I felt it,” says Tatum.
Donna’s flustered. “Evan says you stay at Roeshot House every year. It’s nice you feel so connected to it.”
“We should organize a memorial for Rose,” says Ivy. “Some way for her to be remembered.”
We look at each other. It’s an inspired idea, and we voice our agreement loudly.
Donna smiles. “That sounds lovely. I tell you who knew Rose, Evan. Your old violin teacher, Margery. They were school friends. She came to visit Alice regularly at Silverways.”
“You play the violin too?” asks Jakob.
“Lol. I can’t wait to hear you two play a duet together,” says Tatum. She’s lost the filming voice.
Evan is horrified. “No! They made everyone do a year of violin when we were nine. Somebody gave them money and a pile of violins. It was the worst thing ever.”
Donna laughs. “Margery was very strict. My son Fraser was petrified of her. He’s grown up now, but he says she was his scariest teacher.”
“I used to pretend to be ill on violin days,” says Evan.
“So Margery would know if the sisters got on?” Tatum asks.
“Yes, she would,” says Donna. “But I’m sure she didn’t know anything about Rose’s death. She’s not the sort of person to keep quiet about a thing like that.”
“D’you think Margery would talk to us?” asks Tatum. I can’t believe she’d ask, but I admire her boldness. Why would Margery speak to us? I look at Evan to see what he thinks of the idea, and he’s wincing.
“She’d like to see Evan, I’m sure,” says Donna, smiling at his expression. “If you explained about a possible memorial she might like to be involved with that. I suppose she might like to talk about Alice with you, especially since you know her old house so well.”
“Wait until Dad hears about a memorial,” says Evan. “He’ll go mad.”
“Evan, he’s only being jittery about bookings,” says Donna. “This thing will be old news soon enough. A discreet memorial of some kind, something that doesn’t put off the punters, is what you need.”
“Or your dad could go big with the memorial and offer ghost tours,” says Tatum. “I’ve heard haunted houses can make a lot of money.”
Evan frowns at her.
“I’ll phone Margery later and see if she’ll talk to you,” says Donna, “but you’d have to tread carefully.”
FIFTEEN
“Tatum, you should have asked Donna if she minded being recorded,” I say when we’re outside on the pavement.
“It was only audio, and
I’ll use snippets, not the whole thing,” says Tatum.
Evan says, “She’s a family friend. She’s done us a favour. Don’t get her into trouble.”
Tatum glares at me for being a snitch. I like the way Evan says “us”, though.
“Donna can be an anonymous source,” says Tatum.
“You could get someone else to say her words,” says Ivy. “And film their silhouette.”
“This project’s actually so cool now we’ve got into it,” says Jakob. He pulls a what-are-you-looking-at-me-like-that-for face at me. “Just saying,” he mutters.
An older girl walks towards us with a dog on a lead. Ivy looks away and none of us mention Baz, but I think of his body in the cold ground.
“Can I do any more filming in Pinhurst?” asks Tatum when the dog has gone past, and the girl has tipped her head back briefly as a hi to Evan. “Places we know Alice went to.”
“I could show you Silverways, the care home?” says Evan. “It’s not far from here.”
I’m curious to see it. Each link with Alice makes her feel more real. We walk slowly, with Evan giving a running commentary, taking in the village in a way we’ve never done before. The primary school where Evan had his violin lessons and once threw a conker at a passer-by who complained so Evan was made to go round to his house with his parents to apologize. The hall where Alice organized Christmas craft fairs in aid of charity. The park where Evan’s sister’s best friend’s cousin was caught dealing. The bus shelter where Evan asked out his ex-girlfriend Holly.
“Tell us more about Holly,” says Ivy, giving me a sly glance.
“We went out for about six months, until she dumped me at Halloween,” says Evan. “Don’t worry, I’m over it.”
“Ahh, that’s good,” says Tatum. “I recently split up with my boyfriend. We’d been going out for a year and a half. It had to happen, though.”
As if anyone cares. But Evan asks her about her ex-boyfriend, and we have to listen to her tell us he couldn’t believe his luck when she got with him.
A car horn beeps behind us and someone yells out of a window. “Evaaaaaaaan! See you tonight, yeah?”
Evan waves. When the car’s moved on, he says, “Hey, what are you guys doing tonight for New Year’s Eve? You want to come to the Holiday Village? There’s a disco on at nine, until one. I can get you in for free – I know most of the people behind the bar.”
“Our parents wouldn’t let us,” says Ivy.
“We could ask,” says Tatum. “Come on. We’re old enough to go out, and they know Evan. Sort of.”
“Me and a few of my mates would be walking back your way,” says Evan. “See what they say.”
“Sounds fun,” says Jakob.
“That’s Silverways,” says Evan. “That building there.”
Tatum holds her phone up to film. The care home is a large house set back from the road, with six car park spaces in front of it. I assumed we’d stay on the pavement to gawp, but Tatum beckons us on to the path that leads to the glass front porch. I’m right behind her so I see she’s zooming in on the multiple signage on the porch. Deliveries at side entrance. No junk mail. All visitors to sign in. Maple Care Ltd. She can’t capture the lunch smell: boiled meat and stewed vegetables.
“I’ll pretend I’m Alice’s granddaughter, if you like,” she says. “Get some quality info.” She places her phone in her pocket. “Don’t panic, I’m not recording.”
Evan rushes after her. “They won’t believe you. If there was a granddaughter they’d know about her.”
Tatum looks at him and presses the buzzer by the porch door with a defiant grin.
A woman with cropped grey hair in a navy blue uniform opens the front door and steps into the porch area to open the glass door. “Hello,” she says with professional cheer, which ebbs when she sees there are five of us. “If you’re here to ask about weekend jobs or volunteering, you’ll need to hand in a CV.” There is a nicer smell of fresh laundry now the front door is open. I see grey flooring and some pigeonholes for post.
“Thanks,” says Evan hurriedly. “Sorry to bother you.”
“I’m…” says Tatum, but she doesn’t have the nerve to follow it through.
Jakob giggles nervously.
“She’s looking for a brochure,” I say, because I’m embarrassed this care worker thinks we’re mucking around, and even if she doesn’t know Evan, she probably knows one of his relatives. “We’re doing a social care project … for geography.”
“Oh. OK. Let me think. We do have one somewhere,” says the woman. “Stay there.” She leaves the porch door open and closes the front door behind her as she goes back into the building.
“Good save,” says Ivy.
I step into the porch, trying to imagine myself in Alice’s shoes. She must have lived in fear of her sister’s body being discovered after she left Roeshot House. Was she tempted to change her name and leave the village? As she got to the end of her own life, did she think more and more about her sister, and the life that was cut short? Did she see ghosts too?
Jakob asks me what the hell I think I’m doing.
There’s a shelf with a large, sprawling spider plant. Underneath it are some plastic gardening clogs and a container of bird-friendly slug pellets. There’s a recycling bag, two-thirds full of flyers about takeway deliveries, window cleaning and decorating. On the inside of the door there are more signs. Stop! Is the front door secure? Do not give the entry code to anyone without checking first with Brenda. Mrs Lupin is NOT allowed out on her own. Mr Brooks, remember your inhaler!!!
I wonder if Alice was friends with Mr Brooks or Mrs Lupin, if she got on with Brenda. As I step out of the porch, the front door swings open and the nurse-person hands a square brochure to Tatum. There’s a circular stain on the front from a cup of tea or coffee. “Good luck with your project,” she adds, kindly, before closing the door.
We walk slowly back to Roeshot House. Tatum flips through the brochure. “Just think,” she says, “this could have been where Alice made her deathbed confession!” She holds up a photo of an unoccupied bedroom, with a blue cover on a single bed, a sink, wardrobe and chest of drawers.
“We’re not sure it was a confession yet,” says Evan.
“She confessed she knew her sister was buried in her old garden,” says Tatum. “So it’s a confession.”
Ivy takes the brochure from her for a closer look. “It says there are nine bedrooms, so that’s a one-in-nine chance of it being Alice’s room.”
Jakob tells Tatum to take a photo of the bedroom for the documentary. Nobody’s much interested in the brochure after that so I take it and look at photos of the residents’ lounge, the dining room and the garden.
When I look up, Evan is walking beside me. “Something’s been puzzling me,” he says, his voice low, glancing up at the others ahead. “Dad and I tried to work out where Baz was hit by the car, but we couldn’t find any blood. And no tyre marks. Baz had to walk a long way up the drive to the bins with severe injuries, didn’t he?”
I frown. “So? What does that mean?”
“Nothing, really. Just … he couldn’t have been run over accidentally by one of your cars, could he?” he says as if he’s embarrassed to mention it out loud, but I realize it’s a valid question.
“I’m not sure anyone went out in the car yesterday. We did the Chandler’s Hill walk, and then…” I think back. No one’s quite sure when Baz was last seen.
“Hey!” I call to the others. “Random question, but do you remember if anyone went anywhere in the car yesterday?”
Jakob and Tatum shake their heads.
“Erm, didn’t Steve go and buy chillies in Riddingham?” asks Ivy. “Why? What’s the matter?”
I swear. Jakob, Ivy and Tatum wait for Evan and me to catch up with them, wanting an explanation.
“Steve could have run Baz over, then pretended he’d let him out of the door by mistake, letting us think Baz was run over on the road – not by him,” I say. I st
are at the road, anger pulsing in my head.
“Oh, God, that’s so upsetting,” says Jakob.
“If it was him, he’d have known,” says Evan, nodding. “You can’t hit a dog and not realize.” He sees our appalled faces. “But I’m not accusing anyone. It occurred to me, that’s all. An alternative explanation.”
“And now Steve’s gone away so we can’t check the car,” says Ivy.
“We’ll do it as soon as he and Mum get back,” I say.
SIXTEEN
At lunch, Tatum asks if she, Ivy, Jakob and I can go to the Holiday Village disco.
“On New Year’s Eve?” says Elaine. “Out of the question. We should all be together.”
“It would be fun,” I say. “And we can’t be all together anyway because Mum and Steve aren’t here.” Saying Steve’s name out loud makes me feel queasy.
“They’re getting older now, Elaine,” says Auntie Gabs. “We wouldn’t have wanted to be with our parents at their age, would we?”
“My parents let me go out last New Year’s Eve,” says Tatum. “It wasn’t a big deal.”
Elaine is pushing her lips together tightly. It’s not a good sign.
“We’ve already spent lots of time all together,” says Ivy. “We’d go at nine or ten, after Poppy’s gone to bed. We wouldn’t be gone the whole evening.”
“But you’d be gone for midnight?” says Elaine.
Tatum says, “That’s the idea, yes. The disco finishes at one, and Evan and some friends will be walking back this way.”
Poppy’s drawing a pattern on the palm of her hand with a biro. “I don’t mind if you go.”
“Are you sure?” asks Ivy. “I can stay behind if you prefer.”
Poppy shakes her head. “No, I’ll be fine. I’ll probably be asleep by then anyway.”
“I suppose if they’re sensible…” Marc says to Elaine.
“To be honest, I’m feeling so tired, I’m not sure I’ll make it to midnight,” says Gabs.
“Well, Marc and I will have to stay up, then, and check they’re all home safe and sound,” says Elaine.