Deep Fear

by Deep Fear (retail) (epub)

  Emily Tate didn’t reply, but got up to see them out.

  * * *

  When the officers were gone, Emily Tate dialled a number on her mobile phone that was answered quickly.

  ‘You better come here now, and get your story straight, the police know about the home.’ She ended the call.

  Chapter 20

  The Goose and Gun was busy but not packed. Kelly had changed clothes at home and she wore a light summer dress and heels. Her hair fell to her shoulders and she felt unburdened.

  She’d left her mother watching TV. The lounge resembled a bedroom more and more, and Kelly had made sure she was comfortable before she left. Kelly imagined cancer to have a plan: you got it; it was treated; if successfully, you survived; if not, you died. That’s how it had been with Dad. Kelly had no idea that it could come and go, and that doctors might be in two minds about what they could or could not treat, and how. It was a confusing mine-field. One minute, Mum felt fine, and the next, she slept all day long and woke up looking thirty years older than she was. One thing was for sure: Wendy made it clear that Kelly was not to fuss over her. So, it was easy to forget that her mother was in fact ill, especially when the subject of Nikki came up.

  ‘I know I couldn’t take you for a walk today, Mum, but it wouldn’t have taken much for her to take half an hour of her day for you. It’s selfish and she’s just making a point,’ Kelly had said.

  ‘I know what you think, Kelly, but I don’t want to hear it. I’ve listened to you two bickering for the past twenty years and I’ve had enough!’ Wendy had replied. She shook with vehemence and it took Kelly by surprise. The enormity of her mother’s situation hit her, and she felt wretched. It was one of those times when she just remembered that she had cancer. It was one of those times that she imagined what it must be like to be the mother of two bickering children. In other words: perspective dawned on her, and she felt like a naughty teenager. The shame galvanised her and she apologised. The usual upshot was a knee jerk reaction to needing to move out. The flip side was guilt. Neither felt good.

  ‘Has it always been like this?’ Kelly asked.

  Wendy took a deep breath.

  ‘Yes, as far as I can remember. You just didn’t… well… get on. It’s not illegal – not everyone gets on – I understand that. And we accepted that you were always very different, the two of you, but don’t you think it’s time you gave it up?’ Her mother had never been so forward, so transparently blunt. It made it a ‘thing’ – open and out there to be discussed and even dealt with. It made Kelly react badly.

  ‘Me? Christ, Mum, all I asked was for her to take you for a walk around the sodding block!’

  ‘Don’t you swear at me!’ Wendy said.

  ‘I’m not swearing at you, Mum, I’m frustrated. Can’t you see how she manipulates everything to make herself the victim! It’s pathetic. She could have made different choices, but she’d rather whine, and you fall for it every time! It’s the same at the hospital, it’s embarrassing! I’ve moved on from all of this. I don’t need such pre-pubescent drama in my life.’

  ‘And you are just like your father, shouting your way to the end of an argument, without first stopping to think if what you’re saying is correct!’ They stood staring at one another. Cancer forgotten.

  ‘You’ve always hated it when I stand up for myself. Why is it that when a man stands up for himself, he’s heroic, but when a woman does it, it’s reckless and offensive?’

  ‘Don’t trick me with your riddles. I’ve no idea what you mean. It’s the truth: you always have to be right, like your father, Kelly. But sometimes, you’re not.’

  ‘Mum, I’m not going to sit back and let Nikki get away with wrapping you round her finger. She could have taken you out, that’s all I’m saying. It annoys me that you can’t see that.’

  ‘Most mothers don’t see the child in front of them, just the one they love.’ Wendy’s shoulders dropped and she sat on her bed. Kelly couldn’t bear the theatre, but it had hit a nerve. She couldn’t possibly ask her mother – any mother – to take sides. She had to accept that it was never going to happen.

  ‘Mum, this is also about Dave Crawley. I don’t really care anymore what Nikki thinks about me, Mum – it’s true. But what I did last year had to happen. I had no choice. Dave was guilty as hell, and so was his dad. I make no apologies for it.’

  ‘I know, love. Katy has been struggling. I think Nikki has been giving her money.’

  ‘How is that my fault?’

  ‘Ah, you know, Kelly. Your Dad had the same. No-one likes a clever copper. I’m proud of you.’

  Kelly hadn’t responded. It was progress. She’d heard it with her own ears.

  There was only one thing left to do: go out. She couldn’t sit simmering in the spare room all night, and her mother needed some space. Kelly needed some too.

  She went to the kitchen and made a pot of tea, and brought it through on a tray along with two packets of biscuits. By the time she’d done so, Wendy had climbed into bed, and she was propped up on pillows. She looked forlorn.

  ‘I’m sorry, Mum.’

  ‘So am I, love. You go and have a fun evening. Don’t check on me when you get in.’

  They embraced and Kelly left. The warm night air on her skin intensified the relief she felt at leaving the house, and she walked to the pub.

  Andy and Karl were at the bar.

  There was a time when all she’d want to do was get pissed and forget. That’s what they’d all done in London. Everything was different now. Her work had overlapped with her life, and there was no going back. Things had settled; less people stared at her and whispered into their pints. Andy and Karl never judged. They’d been mates since school, and occasionally, she’d shoot pool with them to wind down.

  ‘Porter, what’s your poison? Has someone died? You look miserable as shit,’ said Karl, before realising his blunder.

  ‘Oh, Christ, Kell, I’m sorry…’ he said.

  ‘It doesn’t matter, no-one has died – or not yet anyway – I just need a drink.’

  ‘Your wish is our command,’ said Andy.

  ‘I’ll have a pint of Bray,’ she said.

  ‘Come here,’ said Andy, and he pulled her towards him. They’d been friends since they were seven years old and they’d met at the art sink; they were the only two kids who enjoyed the job because they’d worked out that it got them out of extra work. After working out that they lived two streets away from each other, they began calling on one another, and climbing trees. They met Karl at secondary school, and the three of them smoked fags at the end of the athletics field.

  She allowed herself to sink into Andy’s chest and it was pleasant there.

  ‘You’re looking fit tonight, girl,’ he said. He meant it, but as a genuine compliment, not as a come on. The thought of sleeping with Kelly Porter was incestuous, but the same couldn’t be said of Karl, who’d done everything to get her into his bed since they’d met up again, last November, in this very pub, by the same pool table they were about to play on. That night, eight months ago, Andy and Karl had delivered Kelly back to her mother’s house in a cab, and had rolled her inside the doorway, giggling and shushing.

  The look on Wendy Porter’s face had been priceless. But Kelly had given up trying to win her mother’s affections through behaving properly; it never worked.

  ‘What’s up?’ Andy asked, pulling Kelly back to the moment. ‘Don’t tell me you’re the one trying to find the psycho who killed that woman?’ he asked.

  She didn’t have to respond; her face said it all.

  Andy smelled good, and he’d always worn the same aftershave. One of his hugs was about as good as it got: and it was the closest she’d come to a brother. Funny that in London, she hadn’t thought of him all that often. Everybody grew up and drifted apart, she’d thought. But he hadn’t changed. He’d married a local girl – from the year below them in school – and they’d had a couple of kids. Boredom set in and Andy decided he wa
nted to learn to ski. Kelly had almost fallen over when he’d told her. He left his wife and kids, and ended up doing three ski seasons back-to-back in the Alps. It was a singularly selfish thing to do, but he’d had to get it out of his system, and so he did.

  By the time he got back, his wife had remarried and his children hated him. So he hung out playing pool, planning his next trip. His chest was broad and strong, and his t-shirt smelled of comfort. His hair had begun to be kissed by salt and pepper, but his eyes were just as playful as they’d been almost thirty years ago. Karl, on the other hand, was smaller but just as well built – they all seemed to be gym fanatics up here – but he wasn’t as good looking as Andy, and he knew it. Andy was the one who attracted the ladies; Karl hung on for the ride. Both were good company and just what Kelly needed tonight. But appearances could deceive; they were good for bouncing off too, unlikely as they seemed. A couple of grown men in a bar – apparently hanging on to their youth, unwilling to let it go – smacked of emotional ineptness. But that’s not what Kelly found at all. They’d all moved on in their own ways, but just found each other again.

  They took their drinks to the pool table and piled a couple of twenty-pence pieces onto the side, by the slot, to bag the next turns. A group of young teenage boys were playing and taking their time about it. They laughed loudly and swaggered brashly when girls walked past – which was often. Kelly watched, amused. She was so glad that she wasn’t in that gig anymore: under twenty-five and desperate to be liked. She’d never been one for cruising bars, but she remembered the insecurity that came with the lack of experience, and she wished she’d possessed the same amount of confidence then as now. She watched them interact and wished the girls wouldn’t make it so obvious that they were available.

  In her day, they’d be called slags, but that had all changed, and now it was acceptable for women to predate around dark pubs and pool tables. Kelly found it offputting and she fancied herself old fashioned; for once, her mother at least would approve.

  ‘Why do you want to chase psychos anyway, Kell?’ Karl asked.

  ‘For the same reason you keep having babies with strangers.’

  Andy laughed. Karl spread his hands. ‘It’s not my fault if they tell me they’re on the pill,’ he said.

  ‘God, are you serious? And you believe them?’ Kelly said, incredulous. ‘You shouldn’t be doing it without a condom anyway, you’re an idiot and you’re lucky you haven’t caught anything. When will you grow up?’

  Karl was used to Kelly’s candour. That’s why he’d fancied her since third year Geography class, every Thursday, fourth period. He looked sheepish.

  ‘Oh no, you have caught something? Bloody hell, Karl!’ she said.

  ‘I didn’t say that! The doc said I could’ve got it from a dirty toilet,’ he said.

  ‘Bullshit!’ said Kelly. ‘And you believed him?’ She shook her head and caught the attention of a group at the bar. Her stomach turned over but she knew she couldn’t avoid it. Paul ‘Flash’ Gordon stood at the bar looking at her. It wasn’t a look of aggression, or threat, but Andy followed her gaze and stood beside her.

  ‘Don’t worry, Andy.’ She held the gaze of Dave Crawley’s best pal. To her surprise, he smiled and walked towards her. She didn’t know what to expect. It was the first time they’d set eyes on each other since the trial. Dave had tried to use Flash as an alibi. It stank.

  ‘Kelly.’

  ‘Paul.’

  They spoke together, over one another. ‘How are you…? Sorry. You go first.’

  ‘I haven’t seen you to say sorry, Paul.’

  ‘You don’t need to, Kelly. I had no idea. You caught him fair and square. But his old man, Christ, no-one knew.’

  Kelly knew this to be false. Plenty knew, but she didn’t elaborate. She let it go.

  ‘I came back and spoilt the party.’

  ‘No you didn’t. He was an idiot. He fooled us all.’

  ‘I was just doing my job.’

  ‘I know.’ He turned round. His friends were waiting, and she knew none of them. He smiled and walked away. She went back to the pool table.

  The music was turned up and the bar began to fill up, and she lost sight of him. It was their turn to play pool, and Kelly and Andy teamed up against Karl, who was by far the better player, thanks to the amount of time spent in bars since leaving school.

  Three girls made their third circuit of the pool table and Kelly watched them watching Andy. One of them caught his eye and Kelly felt the stirrings of jealousy: she wanted to protect him but she had no right to interfere. Besides, it was none of her business who he took home. Andy had bought a ski chalet two years ago and turned it into a successful business. Now he owned five, and they supported his ex-wife, his kids and himself very nicely; and he could sleep with whoever he wanted. Kelly stood next to him and eyed the girls, who moved away quickly.

  ‘You’re spoiling my fun,’ he whispered to her.

  ‘I know, but I’m having loads,’ she whispered back. He put his arm round her and squeezed. Kelly wished she had a brother rather than Nikki, but at least she had Andy.

  Karl won, and they drank to misspent youth.

  After three pints, a few wines and six rounds of pool, Kelly decided that it was time to leave. She’d got what she came for: to offload, and she looked at her watch. Her body told her it was late, her watch confirmed it, and she was swaying slightly. Karl and Andy had swapped beer for Jack Daniels and she’d drunk at least two glasses of wine on top of three pints. She nipped to the toilet before ordering a taxi. The bar was heaving and the music had got steadily louder throughout the evening. The atmosphere of the bar was changing from late afternoon drinkers to hard core pursuit between the sexes, and it was Kelly’s signal to leave. Finally she made it to the toilets and went in. She looked hazily into the mirror and touched up her makeup, satisfied with the reflection. Other women and girls did the same, and some gossiped and giggled. Others swayed, but a lot worse than Kelly. She made her way out of the door, and avoided a girl who looked as though she was going to throw up.

  Back in the bar, she stood still and stared ahead in front of her.

  There was no mistaking. The flip flops, the baggy jumper sneakily hiding a tanned, hard body, and the greying hair, flopping to one side. Later, she wouldn’t remember why she didn’t simply turn around, and leave, but she didn’t. She watched as he stopped talking to the guy next to him, and turned around. He walked towards her.

  ‘Kelly, you’re looking well,’ he said. She couldn’t read what he was thinking, and she felt foolish for being a bit worse for wear.

  ‘Hi, Johnny. How are you?’

  ‘Who are you with?’ he asked.

  ‘Some friends, I was just about to leave, I’ve had enough.’

  ‘That’s a shame, I was going to buy you a drink.’

  ‘I’ve got work tomorrow.’

  ‘That never stopped you.’

  ‘You got me there, but I do need to go. It’s good to see you, Johnny, maybe buy me that drink another time soon?’

  ‘I will. You still on the same number?’

  ‘Yes, I am,’ she said. They stood for half a second, neither really wanting to leave, but Kelly made the first move, and she walked past him towards the boys. Johnny watched her. She said something to the bigger of the two, and they embraced. He watched her as she made her way towards the door.

  Chapter 21

  A young family trudged away from Aira Force car park. They’d started later than they’d hoped because the youngest child had projectile vomited into his car seat. However, after raiding the steamer office toilet for tissues, administering Calpol, buying coke to cheer the team, and promising ice cream on the way back, they’d managed to set off. The sun beat down on them, and they looked forward to the promised shade of their destination.

  Not for the first time did the couple question their sanity. A walking holiday in the Lakes had sounded a splendid idea, but the reality was turning out to be trickier
, and not as much fun, as they’d expected. The children whined that their feet hurt, they were thirsty, they were tired, and they were hungry.

  It wasn’t long, though, before they were walking through enchanting woodland, away from the road and the crowds, and away from the lake. Dad told stories to keep the children interested, and pointed out red squirrels and interesting ferns. The oldest child, at seven years old, wasn’t fooled, and his shoulders continued to droop. The youngest, exhausted from the purge of his stomach contents, was asleep in his carrier. The middle child whimpered slightly, and stopped every now and again to wipe his face with a cool leaf. The Lake District was basking in record temperatures, and the shade of Aira Force was welcome.

  The base of the waterfall had held their attention for a while: the sheer awe of it transfixed them, and the air around it was deliciously cool. But every tourist in Cumbria had the same idea, and they looked for a quieter part; they had to keep going higher, it was the only way to find a secluded spot. The children had hoped that the waterfall was the finale, and they could turn around and go back to the comforts of their hotel, and Wi-Fi.

  On they went.

  The view from the top of the falls was impressive, and, again, the children believed that this would be the end of their adventure, and soon they’d be able to go back the way they’d come. But Dad still ploughed on. He was jabbering on about the height of the waterfall and the family who’d planted the woods. He’d promised they’d see deer, and they’d seen none. Finally, the throngs of sightseers started to subside, and they came to a glade where the water was calm and inviting. At the top, way above the waterfall, the water gathered in pools, and there were rocks to sunbathe on.

  ‘Here,’ said Dad. The mother spread a blanket and gave the older boys towels. The toddler was released from his tethers and even the older boy smiled as he splashed water onto his mother. The sun only penetrated in patches here, and the air was cool. Dad smiled: his mission accomplished. They saw only four other people walking past, and now they could enjoy the fruits of their labour.