The Homecoming

by The Homecoming (retail) (epub)

  ‘I’ll just see to the till and I’ll be down later to see if there’s any news of Billy,’ Stella said as Lydia hurried home.

  Glyn was there, talking to Annie, reading her bits from the newspaper. Annie could read perfectly well and didn’t even need glasses but she loved to be read to.

  ‘Being spoilt, are you Mam?’ Lydia said as she ran into her mother’s bedroom and kissed her.

  ‘Where have you been?’ Glyn asked seeing her dishevelled appearance. ‘Are you all right?’

  ‘Yes, I—’ she glanced at her mother, who was watching them, and added lightly, ‘I’ll tell you all the news when I’ve phoned the police again, and made Mam a cup of tea, right?’

  ‘Glyn’s been in touch with the solicitor and he thinks Billy and Gimlet will be released in the next hour,’ Annie told her happily.

  In her delight at hearing the news, Lydia forgot herself for a moment, and hugged Glyn. Embarrassed, she pulled away from him and hurried down the stairs. ‘I’d better get the food on,’ she said. ‘Starved he’ll be.’

  Putting a casserole on to heat through, she turned as Glyn followed her down the stairs and asked him what had happened to her father and his.

  ‘It seems that your father had a row with the girl. I gather she was trying to find someone to take responsibility for the baby she was expecting and both of them were likely candidates! Billy pushed her and my father went back later just to see if she was all right and found her with her wrists cut. It was too late to help her and knowing what a field day the papers would have, he buried her and hoped people would presume she’d left town and not look for her – which was exactly what happened.’

  ‘I’ve half suspected that Dad went with other women, but I’ve never really faced it before. I don’t think he does now. I imagine that affair made him lose his nerve.’

  ‘He didn’t know until a few weeks ago what my father had done for him,’ Glyn said. ‘The reason he doesn’t look for sex outside the home is because he’s returned, in a way, to his first and true love.’

  ‘What d’you mean?’

  ‘Stella,’ he replied succinctly.

  So many things became clear then.

  * * *

  It was much later when she remembered the knife. After a brief explanation, she showed it to Glyn.

  ‘The police will have to see this and they’ll probably be annoyed to say the least.’

  ‘Annoyed? With me? It’s nothing to do with me!’

  ‘For moving it,’ Glyn explained. It’s probably nothing to do with Rosie’s death but you shouldn’t have touched it.’

  ‘I didn’t know I had it! I slipped and grabbed at handfuls of soil, hoping to catch hold of a tree root or something solid to stop me falling. My hand just tightened on it instinctively. Like a drowning man clutching a straw I suppose.’

  There was a knock at the door and Lydia swung around to open it, expecting to see her father, but it was Matthew. ‘Lydia, I’ve just heard about your father,’ he said, ignoring the presence of Glyn. ‘Is everything all right?’

  ‘Yes, thank goodness. He and Gimlet are probably on their way home this minute.’

  ‘And I’d better go home and find out what’s been going on,’ Glyn said. He went to pick up the handkerchief in which the rusted knife was resting and Matthew stopped him.

  ‘What’s that? Where did you find it?’ he demanded.

  Lydia explained and told him that Glyn was going to take it to the police station. ‘Where in the castle grounds?’ Matthew asked, and Glyn hovered at the doorway, anxious now to be off to greet his father. ‘You didn’t go inside the castle did you?’ he asked anxiously.

  ‘Can I take it now, Lydia? I must go. I want to be there when Dad gets home. Mam’ll be upset and—’

  ‘Thank you for telling me about – you know,’ she spoke with her head bent, not wanting to mention her father’s love for her aunt. If Matthew was curious he didn’t ask questions.

  ‘You go, Glyn,’ he said. ‘I’ll take the knife to the police station while Lydia waits here for Billy. I’ll go straight away. They’ll want to see this as soon as possible.’ His eyes were filled with tears as he looked at the small knife, convinced, albeit without reason, that it was the weapon which had ended his sister’s life.

  ‘I have the superintendent’s telephone number. D’you think we should phone him first? After all he is in charge of the investigation.’

  Matthew talked on the phone then told her he had arranged to meet Richards at the station an hour later. ‘He said we weren’t to discuss it with anyone,’ Matthew said.

  ‘I think they like to keep fresh information to themselves in the hope that someone will trip themselves up,’ Glyn said.

  ‘He probably still suspects me,’ Matthew said ruefully.

  Glyn hurried off to welcome his father home, but before Matthew also left, to deliver the knife to Superintendent Richards, Lydia told him that she had betrayed his trust and told the sergeant what he had confided to her. She expected him to be angry but his shoulders drooped and he said quietly, ‘Perhaps it’s just as well. It would all have come out anyway. Finding Rosie’s body was bad luck so far as my secret hoard was concerned, but, d’you know, I’m glad it’s all out in the open.’

  ‘But your career. You might have trouble with the new position. A criminal, even if thoroughly reformed, isn’t a popular choice for a head teacher.’

  ‘I’ll start again, with something new if necessary. Difficult, but not impossible. My army record was a good one.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Matthew.’

  ‘Don’t be.’ He took her in his arms and held her close. ‘Another plus might be my starting again here, with you to help me. Does that appeal to you as much as it does to me, Lydia?’

  She kissed him but didn’t reply. The recent brief hug she had shared with Glyn had created a far greater emotion.

  * * *

  The weather had turned very cold and for several days the radio had been debating the possibility of snow for Christmas and when Billy arrived, the snow came with him. As the door burst open, Billy appeared in a flurry of large snowflakes. He was hugging himself and began talking almost before the door opened, about the perishing weather, enforced idleness, rotten food, the smelly accommodation and the sarcasm of the coppers, ‘And how,’ he asked, almost without taking a breath, ‘is Annie?’

  Matthew smiled at Lydia and whispered, ‘He seems unharmed by the experience, but I bet he and Gimlet have got a giant of a thirst!’ He picked up the cloth and the rusty knife without Billy seeing it, and went out.

  When he returned about half an hour later, his coat was patchily white, his face ruddy, his hair edged with fine flakes as if he were a part of the seasonal decorations. Stella had arrived, Billy was sitting in front of a huge fire, Annie had been carried down and was sitting opposite him and Lydia was attending to the three of them as if they were all invalids.

  Avoiding being heard by her parents, Matthew told Lydia he had given the knife to the superintendent, who would be calling to talk to her about her discovery later that evening. ‘If he can get through,’ he added. ‘The forecast is for heavy snow and drifts continuing all night and you know how that changes people’s plans!’

  ‘I hope he doesn’t make it. I don’t think I want to see a policeman again for a while,’ Lydia sighed.

  ‘Do you want me to stay?’ he asked.

  Lydia shook her head. ‘No it’s all right. Dad will be here. I don’t think he’ll be going far from home tonight.’

  Gimlet and Billy were both in need of some maldod – some tender loving care – but, after an hour or two of telling their families about their ordeal, they both needed a drink as Matthew had predicted.

  Gimlet arrived with Glyn and Tomos and Molly and they took Billy to The Pirate to celebrate with their friends. Stella was taken home by Glyn about nine and when Annie had been put to bed, Lydia decided that Richards must have changed his mind and she prepared to have a bath and go to
bed herself. It had been a distressing day.

  * * *

  Glyn joined his father and Billy and the others at The Pirate, but he was uneasy. The pre-Christmas joviality had infected the regular clientele and laughter filled the room, emanating from the various groups. Decorations glittered around the lights and brass shone, reflecting the fire in the huge grate, but Glyn seemed unaware of it all. He was edgy, unhappy, but couldn’t explain why. Something rankled in the back of his mind and he couldn’t clear his thoughts sufficiently to understand what it was. Leaving the rest of the celebratory party in The Pirate, he went to the police station and asked for Detective Superintendent Richards.

  He was told that Richards was not on duty that day and would probably be at home.

  ‘I saw him up at the castle earlier today, mind,’ one of the constables told him, ‘but he won’t be there now, not in this weather.’

  ‘You’ll have a note of Matthew Hiatt coming in and handing in a knife found at the castle?’ Glyn said. ‘He was here then.’

  The two constables looked at the book and at each other and frowned. ‘There’s nothing down here about Matthew Hiatt calling, no mention of a knife being handed in, and the Super definitely hasn’t been here today.’

  Glyn left, his deep, tantalizing thoughts crystallising and adding to his anxiety. Matthew had been lying.

  The snow had worsened and the streets were already covered with a couple of inches of snow. The cars passing along the road were making that unmistakable shushing sound as the wheels turned the white to a slushy drab brown, which changed colour where streetlights gave it an orange glow. Glyn felt it seeping into the unsuitable shoes he wore and wished he had thought to wear wellingtons.

  What had Matthew done with the knife if he hadn’t handed it in? Could he have met Richards somewhere other than the police station? He had telephoned him first. Although, they had only heard Matthew’s end of the conversation. What if he had only pretended to talk to the man?

  Where was Matthew now? If he hadn’t reported the find then what else was he hiding? He pulled his collar up higher and, ignoring the comfort offered by The Pirate’s bright windows, he returned to Lydia’s house.

  * * *

  The bath was running and the scent of expensive bath foam filled the steamy air. Lydia was removing her clothes when she heard a knock on the door. Probably someone to ask about Billy, she thought with a sigh. Putting her trousers and sweater back on, she ran down the two flights and opened the door. It was Superintendent Richards.

  ‘Oh, I forgot you were coming,’ she said. ‘Come in quick before all the heat goes from the house!’ The snow swirled in the air. ‘The weather forecasters are probably right, this looks set to continue all night,’ she added shivering dramatically.

  ‘I want you to come with me,’ he said, tight-lipped.

  ‘What, in this? At this time of night? Why, what’s happened?’

  ‘It’s about the knife you found. You must show me exactly where it was found. It’s very important.’

  ‘Won’t tomorrow do? Nothing will change in this weather. I doubt if even a fox will venture out in this!’

  ‘It could clear your father completely if what you tell me ties in with what we already know about Rosie’s death.’

  ‘I’ll have to stay until Dad gets back. Mam doesn’t like being left alone at night.’

  ‘We won’t be long. Twenty minutes at the most. I don’t want your father to know where we’re going. I want him completely ignorant of this or he could be suspected of interfering and that would put him in a bad light. On his answers to my next lot of questions, his freedom might depend. Matthew’s too. We don’t want people saying they’d spoken to you and compared stories, do we? Hurry, we’ll be back before ten and I doubt if he’ll be home before then.’

  There was something frightening in the man’s demeanour and without further argument, Lydia found wellingtons and coat and followed him. Out of the house, down the steps to the seafront where street lights shone weakly through the polka-dot air, and the sea beyond was invisible.

  Without a word he took her arm and hurried her towards the path beside the sea. He walked so fast and held her so tightly, she began to feel she was under arrest. A joke to that effect gained no response. His face looked closed up, unfriendly and steely cold.

  Walking around behind the houses and up through the wood towards the castle was difficult as he refused to show a light and there was no lessening of the pace he set. ‘Why are we going this way?’ she demanded.

  ‘I have my reasons, just hurry, will you?’

  She was half dragged when she stumbled or when trees pulled at her clothes and she began to feel very frightened. What was he taking her to see? Not another body? Please not, she prayed. She couldn’t cope with another shocking sight like Rosie Hiatt. What could he have found up here? And how could he hope to show it to her with with every piece of open ground covered with snow?

  She tried to free herself from his grasp, pleading for him to stop, insisting she was out of breath, needed a rest, her face was scratched, her feet were sliding, she couldn’t see where she was walking, and couldn’t he slow down? All to no avail. He pulled her inexorably up through the steep woodland, half dragged her up the steep slope of the castle mound made slippery by the fresh snow. Around the grounds they went, hugging the hedges until the castle loomed up in front of them through the shower-curtain of snowflakes.

  The ladders were in place and there at last, below the window so many people had used for access, he finally stopped.

  ‘Climb up,’ he said, still holding her arm. ‘Go on, climb up if you want to save your father.’

  ‘I didn’t find the knife inside the castle,’ she tried to explain. ‘It was further on, below this path.’

  ‘Do as I say.’

  ‘But why are we going inside?’

  ‘I have something you must see.’ He forced her to climb up through the window and down the other side.

  ‘It wasn’t in here!’ she insisted time and again. ‘I found the knife outside. On the slope below the path.’ She tried refusing to go any further, but he used force and threats and she had no alternative but to go where he led.

  * * *

  Glyn walked back to Lydia’s house. The door was unlocked and he went in, calling her name. The scent of bath foam was in the air and he smiled and sat down, waiting for her to emerge from the bathroom. After a while he realised there were no sounds coming from upstairs and he climbed the stairs, walked past Annie’s room and saw that the bathroom door was open. Calling her name he pushed it and discovered it was empty, the half-filled bath was still. Lydia’s abandoned dressing gown and nightdress neatly placed on the towel rail. Panic beginning to fill him, he went to her bedroom and found that undisturbed.

  Searching the house he saw Annie was fast asleep, a book fallen from her hands. Apart from her, the place was deserted. Matthew! She must have gone somewhere with Matthew. He closed the door behind him, slithered his way down the stone steps and hurried to Matthew’s hotel. Matthew was reading in his room.

  ‘I left her more than an hour ago,’ he told Glyn. ‘I did offer to stay for when that policeman called but she said she’d be all right, with Billy there and the rest.’

  ‘We all went out and now there’s no sign of her.’

  They went once again to the police station where they were assured that Lydia had not been brought in and, no, there was no mistake. The Superintendent was definitely not on duty.

  ‘And you still say you have no record of Matthew Hiatt bringing in a knife found by Miss Lydia Jones?’ Glyn asked, looking at Matthew as he spoke.

  ‘No record?’ Matthew frowned. ‘I met Superintendent Richards here this evening. He was waiting for me at the corner of the road, said he was on his way here. He took it, thanked me and told me to tell no one. I was asked to instruct Miss Jones to stay in as he’d be calling to interview her later this evening.’

  The constables could shed no
further light on the puzzle and Matthew and Glyn decided they would go and find the sergeant to see if he were able to tell them where Lydia might be.

  He lived not far from Stella so it was to Stella they went first, in case Lydia had told her of some plan to go out.

  Stella looked up at the castle and shivered. ‘She wouldn’t be up there, would she? Not in this?’

  ‘No,’ Glyn laughed. ‘Curious she might be, but she wouldn’t go up there on a night like this. Especially not alone.’

  ‘She did look upon it as her mystery, mind. She might conceivably want to investigate something and go on impulse. She can be stubborn,’ Stella added, ‘follows her father in that. If something occurred to her, she might well go up there, even in weather like this.’

  Matthew went to see if there were any footprints leading up from the gate, but if there had been any, the snow had filled them.

  ‘There were two people walking along the lane behind Mary and Gimlet’s house when I was there earlier,’ Stella said. ‘Heading for the castle or the wood below it. There’s no stopping some courting couples, is there?’ She tutted.

  ‘Did you see who they were?’

  ‘In this? No chance! But I remember thinking it looked like a man and a woman, arm in am they looked to be.’

  ‘It was them. I know it was them!’ Glyn said.

  Gathering torches, Glyn and Matthew jumped the gate and went at a slippery run up the slope towards the castle. Stella telephoned the police, thankful that Lydia had insisted on having her telephone re-installed when they opened the shop.

  * * *

  Forcing her to walk beside him, Richards led Lydia to where they looked at the gateway from inside the ruined building. He twisted her hands behind her and fastened them before she was aware of what he was doing. Then as she threatened to scream, he tied a scarf tightly across her mouth so it bit painfully into her mouth. She tried to get away but he held her almost playfully, pushing and pulling her to the broken walls of the kitchen. There, in almost the exact place where Rosie had been found, was a grave.