by Lee Weeks
The time flew by; it was so busy. When they had finished serving dinner there was the tidying and washing up and then the preparation for breakfast. Diane sat down for a cup of tea with Lyndsey and Sheila.
It was ten o’clock when she went to find Simon to say goodnight. She knocked on the door of his office.
He opened the door and Diane could see he had company: a woman who quickly hid her face in a handkerchief. She looked upset.
‘Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you.’
Simon smiled, embarrassed.
‘Thanks for your help, Diane. Can I ring you tomorrow and we can catch up on how things went?’
‘Of course.’
Diane dropped in on Zoe on her way home and heard the wonderful peaceful sound that meant the kids were asleep. She knew she’d find Zoe sitting at the kitchen table on her laptop.
‘How did it go?’
‘It was great, love. So many interesting people. You wouldn’t believe people’s stories – how they end up on the street. Just bad luck, most of them.’
‘Keep an eye on your purse.’
‘Tut-tut. That’s not a good attitude. You’re becoming a very cynical young lady.’
‘Yeah, well, I’m really glad it will work out, Mum. Tea?’ Zoe got up to put the kettle on. ‘Did you see much of Simon?’
‘Yes, I did. He’s quite the chef in the kitchen. Except he doesn’t shout at anyone.’
‘I should hope not.’
‘There were lots of people asking what would be happening now about someone called Lolly.’
‘I saw that on the board at work. She was left in the lorry park at Shadwell.’
‘What’s going to happen now?’
‘Well, we’ll do our best. We’ll investigate it like we do all unexplained deaths but the truth is, we don’t hold out a lot of hope of solving it. She was always vulnerable.’
‘Yes, but they say this is the second time someone has tried to kill her. The first time the gang from the estate tried to set her on fire whilst she was sleeping.’
‘We will investigate it, Mum. I’ll have a look into it myself, see if I can find out what’s happening for you.’
‘Yes, because, after all, these people are her family. They are the only people she had left in the world. They deserve to know what happened.’
‘Yes, I know, Mum. I will do it, I promise. Did you get any gossip on Simon?’
‘I didn’t ask. I’m not going to be a spy for you. I would hate them to think I was.’
‘They won’t, Mum. I’m just interested, that’s all.’
‘Mmm, not falling for that, but anyway – he’s difficult to work out. No one mentioned a girlfriend to me.’
‘Did you learn anything about him at all? Was there talk about Toffee – the man in hospital?’
‘The other volunteers can understand why he’s spending so much time at the hospital. According to Sheila and Lyndsey, Simon and Toffee spent a lot of time in his office and they seem to have a special bond.’
‘Did you meet any of the other regulars to the hostel? Did you meet a young woman called Martine?’
‘I heard her name mentioned.’
‘If you get the chance to talk to the people who come in – just listen out for anything that seems worth remembering.’
‘I told you, I’m not spying for you.’
‘Just helping people, that’s all. Not spying.’
‘There is something – nothing really but when I left there I went to say goodbye and there was a woman in his office.’
‘Who was it?’
‘I didn’t ask. But she wasn’t one of the clients in the hostel. She was smartly dressed. She was crying her eyes out when I went in there and he clearly didn’t want to talk to me. She hid her face in a hanky.’
‘When are you going back in, Mum?’
‘I was thinking of going in tomorrow, to help out in the day, if they need me; I can make tea, talk to people. I think that’s what I’ll enjoy doing the most, just listening. But Simon is going to ring me first.’
‘Be good to go in as much as possible.’
‘Trying to get rid of me?’
Zoe smiled. ‘When you’ve finished your duties here, that is.’
‘Simon can’t be intending to go into the hospital tonight, can he? Maybe he knows that you’re not going in.’
‘I wouldn’t get your hopes up of having a vicar as a son-in-law, Mum. I don’t think we’re suited, do you?’
‘Who knows? But you couldn’t help out at the hostel – you’d probably have everyone strip-searched just to get a cup of tea. And you certainly wouldn’t believe anything they said to you – you’d be like, why did you say you did that but then you said the other . . .?’
‘I’m not that bad.’
‘Mmm. You don’t notice it. I saw you interrogating the postman the other day. What made you leave your trolley outside number 36 while you delivered letters to 44?’
‘Now you’re exaggerating.’ Zoe laughed.
Chapter 29
The next morning, Willis got up at six and went for a shower before breakfast. It was dark in the house. She put the light on in the kitchen and the windows were black. She walked around with a bowl of cereal in her hands. She drank tea. She stood for minutes just staring out of the kitchen window at nothing and mentally preparing for the day. Normally, the scene from the window was a mash-up of lit bathroom windows with bevelled glass, back doors – today it was a snow-capped scene.
She picked up her bag and slipped out of the house at 7.15. She walked across to her sky-blue Polo. It had a hat of snow and she slid her hand across it, breaking it off in chunks. The snow was not going to stay, according to the weather forecast. It was almost too cold for it.
Willis didn’t often drive. She didn’t enjoy it; but today she was pleased to be warm and dry inside her car. She had arranged to meet her mother’s doctor in charge of her treatment. She headed north on the A1 to Nottinghamshire. She hit the edge of the town and followed the signs for the hospital.
Dr Lydia Reese was waiting for her in the sitting area outside her mother’s ward.
‘Sorry, am I late?’
‘Not at all – you just caught me catching up on some work. Please have a seat. Or we could grab a coffee, if you like?’
‘Yes, that would be great.’
‘I’ll show you where the café is.’
They walked back towards the entrance of the hospital and turned into the café area.
‘I’ll get it – what would you like?’ Dr Reese offered.
‘Hot chocolate, thanks very much.’
Willis went to find a table. The place was recovering from breakfast going by the tables littered with plates. Willis cleared a table for them. Dr Reese approached and set the tray of drinks down, before sitting opposite her.
‘Thanks for agreeing to see me, Doctor. I need to talk to you about something Bella wants from me, before I go in and see her. I need to know if it’s something you would recommend me doing or not.’
‘Of course, I appreciate you running it by me. I will give you my professional opinion.’
‘Bella says she has photos of my natural father to show me. She wants me to find him. There can only be one reason. She is up to something and she must think it will help her get out of prison in some way. I don’t know whether I should even try to find him or leave him well alone. I don’t think it’s fair to involve him.’
‘If you do find him, will you tell him everything?’
Willis sighed, staring at her cup. ‘If I do – I think I have no chance of ever meeting him. Who is going to want to know either of us?’
‘What your mother did should not reflect on you.’
‘Oh, but it does – tarred with the same brush.’
‘You were there when it happened?’
‘And I arrested her at the scene.’ Willis played with her cup as she talked. She steeled herself; she’d been building up to telling Dr Reese her side of
the story for a while – now seemed the right time to do it. She wouldn’t have told her unless she had to. She never told anyone exactly how it felt that day. But, if there was one person who should know it was Dr Reese.
Dr Reese put her hand on Willis’s and for some reason it brought a lump to Willis’s throat. She smiled at the doctor and removed her hand from the table.
‘Take your time,’ Dr Reese said. ‘Tell me what happened that day.’
‘I’d just joined the police force. She wanted to see me. I didn’t see her often. I agreed to go to her flat. She lived in a housing association flat. Bella never managed to hold down a job, never managed to accept her family’s generosity and do something good with the money. She gave wild parties, she took drugs. She wrecked marriages and lives. She always has done – she goes through life like a tornado. Everything spins around her. She feels nothing for anyone else unless it will achieve her aims. She uses us all.
‘When I got there the door was open. I called out my mother’s name and I heard the softest voice reply. It wasn’t a word, it was a breath.
‘I saw the blood as soon as I stepped inside. There were handprints in the hallway, smears all over the walls, smudges of blood and flesh where someone had fallen against the wall and struggled forward, trying to get away. The blood led towards the kitchen. I called her name. She hated me calling her Mother. I called out to her: “Bella?” I heard a whimpering, someone else trying to breathe coming from in front of me, from the kitchen. I walked forward and I saw the man’s legs first. He was sitting on the floor. His blood was pooled around him. He looked at me for help. His breathing was coming out in squeals. He clutched his chest and bright red blood pumped over his hand. His eyes flicked to the other side of the door. Bella was standing with a big kitchen knife in her hand; she was drenched in blood. She was shaking violently. She was looking at me with the eyes of someone who believes they can do whatever they like and there will be no consequences. There was a look of triumph in her eyes as she lunged forward and planted the knife into his chest. I tried to save him but he was dead in seconds.’
‘Who was he?’
‘He was a twenty-one-year-old. He was studying medicine. He was planning to go back to his home in Somalia and help his community when he qualified.’
‘Your mother was very sick at the time.’
‘Yeah, I know. I’ve heard people say that many times.’ Willis shook her head. ‘Bella has a long-term plan to get out. She needs motivation.’ She took a drink of her hot chocolate. She couldn’t make eye contact with the doctor for a minute.
‘Then it seems you are the one to make all the choices,’ Dr Reese said, and, for the first time, Willis saw a softness in her eyes. ‘I know that your mother has had a terrible effect on you. I can see it in you. I know that Bella is manipulative and dangerous. I cannot say to you that she has no hope of ever getting out of Rampton because there are systems in place that would allow her to, if she was judged not to be a risk to herself or others. But . . . if it was me . . . I might take this chance of a new relationship with your father and I might choose not to share it. If, however, you do and he intends to visit your mother then I am very happy to work with him and you towards the best treatment for her.’
Willis nodded; she cupped her hands around the hot chocolate and stared straight ahead.
‘Now we have to go and see your mother.’ Dr Reese stood. ‘I’ll leave it to you to decide what you want to do.’
Bella seemed to be asleep as Willis opened the door to the side ward. There were just the two beds. The pregnant woman was still opposite – she spoke as Willis got level with her.
‘Please, I’m begging you – I can’t take it any more – Shut that bitch up. She keeps saying my baby is rotting inside me. She keeps telling me it’s dying. Make her shut up.’
Bella smiled as she lifted her head to laugh at the pregnant woman.
‘You’ll die in labour.’
‘Evil BITCH . . .’ the pregnant woman screamed across.
Bella laughed softly. She looked up as Willis approached.
‘Morning, Ebony, my baby.’
‘What is all that about?’ Willis gestured towards the woman opposite, who had turned her back to them and started crying. ‘Leave that woman alone to mind her own business, Bella; otherwise you will be in trouble.’
‘Don’t you dare side with her. You have no idea what she says to me when no one is listening. She’s not fit to be a mother.’
‘Bella. That’s enough.’
‘Sorry, Ebony. You are all I have in the world. It isn’t fair. It is you who have committed a terrible crime. I feel such a weight of remorse for leaving you in foster homes, in care homes for your childhood while they sorted out my medication. I feel such a sense of loss that it’s unbearable. You can make it right between us.’
‘The care homes were wonderful. My time in foster care was one of the best childhood memories I have. To have someone look after me for a change, to have unconditional love, warmth, respect even. To have people tell you that you are in charge of your own destiny – I look back at those times with such gratitude.’
‘But not the times with me?’
‘No.’
‘No happy memories?’
‘Not many.’
‘Any?’
‘There was always a price for those times. There were the highs followed by lows.’
‘That’s my illness.’
‘An illness that you managed to disguise very well when you wanted something.’
‘I did not.’
‘When you wanted me back, when you wanted a new flat to live in, a new start.’
‘I loved you.’
‘No, Bella, your love is all centred on yourself.’ Bella was breathing hard. ‘Do you want me to get the nurse?’
‘What for? You want me dead.’
‘I don’t, Bella, but I want you somewhere where you can be looked after. You wanted to show me a photo of my dad?’
‘Go around to my locker now – there’s a large brown envelope. Get it out. You will see – we can be a family again. You find him, you tell him I always loved him and no one else and you bring him home, Ebony.’ She didn’t speak as Willis did as she was told. Willis opened the top of the envelope and peeked inside. There were three photos.
‘Bring them round here.’
Willis went around the bottom of the bed.
There was movement opposite them and Willis looked across at the pregnant woman. She was trying to sit up, straining to see what she had in her hand.
‘Ignore her . . .’ Bella hissed. ‘Ugly fat bitch.’ She looked at the envelope in Willis’s hands. ‘Open it. I want to see your face.’
Willis slid them out and stood looking at the photo of a good-looking young man with his arm over Bella’s shoulder. Ebony had to admit that they were a beautiful couple. His vest shirt was pure ’80s. Her mother had short spiky hair, heavily made-up eyes. She had on a hessian crop top and MC Hammer trousers.
‘Why did you get pregnant?’
‘I didn’t mean to. Complete accident. I forgot to take my Pill. Funny that – I seem to have my whole life dictated to me by whether I remember to take medication or not.’
‘Did he ever see me?’
‘No. I left him as soon as I found out and decided to keep you. I didn’t want to be with anyone.’
‘Why did you keep me?’ she asked.
‘I thought it would make me happy.’
‘Did you ever consider my feelings?’
‘Of course. I thought about you all the time. I had to change my whole life to look after you and you were not worth it. You scared away the only decent men I could meet. You never smiled at anyone.’
‘Sorry I was a disappointment.’
‘Yes, you were. I thought you would be a girly girl but you didn’t have hair I could do anything with. You didn’t have a face that could be prettied up,’ said Bella.
Willis almost smiled as she shook her hea
d sadly. Her mother’s brutal honesty was finally being unleashed. All the years, Willis had known that her mother thought it, and now she had said it – Ebony hadn’t been worth the effort.
‘No, Ebony, please, you know I don’t mean that. I regretted leaving you with the social workers. I should never have let them take you from me.’
‘Those were my happiest times.’
‘When?’
‘When I was with foster parents. In the kids’ home. I felt safe. I felt loved. I didn’t feel judged on my looks.’ Willis had heard enough. She was anxious to leave.
‘Will you trace him for me?’ Bella asked.
‘I’ll try. But he may not even be alive. He may want nothing to do with either of us.’
‘Yes, but if we don’t ask we’ll never know. There you go again, always Miss Negative.’
‘What are you really hoping to gain by this, Bella?’ asked Willis.
She watched her mother’s expressions change as Bella thought about the answer she wanted to give – as she thought through the consequences of speaking her thoughts out loud.
‘I told you I want to see him before I die.’
‘Yeah, I might believe that one, except you’re not dying and you are rubbish at making a good job of suicide.’
‘I will die some day and I want to make peace,’ Bella said.
‘No. That’s not it. Try again.’
‘I want to see if there’s any spark left.’
‘Getting warmer. What good would it do?’
‘It would give me hope. It would mean I would try my hardest to be a model patient and get out.’
‘No, Bella. You are better off like this. I won’t help you with that.’