A Crushing Blow (Anna McColl Mystery Book 3)

by Penny Kline

  ‘Don’t go.’ Helen stretched out an arm. ‘If you go Bryan will make me take one of my knock-out pills, then tomorrow he’ll say it’s best to forget all about it.’

  I hesitated. ‘Well, the night’s pretty much of a write-off … ’

  ‘And tomorrow’s Sunday,’ she said, ‘so we can all have a lie in.’

  She seemed to have forgotten the baby and the fact that it wouldn’t be Rona who had to get up early and prepare a bottle. We sat in silence for a couple of minutes, then Helen asked Bryan to make her a drink.

  ‘He only married me as a fashion accessory,’ she said. ‘Now I’m fat and past it he’s trading me in for a newer model.’ She laughed. ‘A newer model, get it?’

  Bryan sighed. ‘What nonsense you talk. If anything you’re the one who’ll do a bunk — with some unendingly patient guy like that nice Sandy Haran.’

  They wouldn’t look at one another. I thought about the woman on the escalator at the shopping centre and the discussion I had overheard in my hiding place behind the ivy-covered pillar.

  ‘We don’t communicate very well, do we?’ said Bryan, standing up, then sitting down again. ‘Isn’t that what they call it — a “failure to connect”?’

  ‘Perhaps you’re not very good at listening to each other.’

  ‘Fair enough. All right, you can start.’ He moved his head in the direction of Helen. ‘Go on, say what’s on your mind and I promise I won’t interrupt, not till the bitter end.’

  Helen sighed heavily, made a couple of false starts, opening and closing her mouth, then began. ‘I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. I feel completely useless. Is that the kind of thing you want to hear? There’s no modelling work and — ’

  Bryan’s head jerked up. ‘You said you didn’t want to — Sorry, carry on.’

  ‘I don’t know what to do with Chloe. There’s so much you’re supposed to know and if you make a mistake the baby can’t even tell you what you’ve done wrong.’ She looked at Bryan and me in turn, waiting for us to point out that she hadn’t made much effort to learn, that Rona had taken over from the start while Helen spent her time touring the countryside looking for suitable scenes to photograph. Neither of us said a word.

  ‘When we got her she looked so tiny.’ She paused, to give her next statement greater effect. ‘And anyway you never really wanted a baby.’

  ‘Not true,’ whispered Bryan. ‘No, carry on.’

  ‘You only agreed to adopt so that when you left me at least I wouldn’t be completely on my own. Yes, you did, I could tell.’

  Bryan was pulling faces. ‘You’d better answer that,’ I said.

  ‘Now?’

  ‘Yes, now.’

  ‘Since we’ve been together … ’ He was talking to me, not Helen. ‘Since we’ve been married I’ve tried everything I can think of to make her feel more secure. Rona says her mother was the same, over-anxious, wracked with self-doubt. D’you s’pose it’s genetic, something to do with the nervous system? Her mother was good looking too. Maybe beautiful women become too dependent on their looks, assume that’s the only reason people are paying them attention. I thought when we got Chloe it would be better, convince Helen how I felt, how I wanted the relationship to last, but it seems to have had the opposite effect.’

  ‘You talk about me as though I’m a spoilt child,’ said Helen sulkily. ‘You always have.’

  Bryan ignored this comment. ‘And all this business about not wanting to drive so you’re either stuck at home or have to find someone who’ll act as your chauffeur. Why? What happened? If something happened why didn’t you tell me? We could have discussed it, sorted it all out.’

  Helen looked genuinely mystified. ‘Told you about what?’

  ‘Well, I assume you had some kind of accident.’

  ‘When?’

  ‘I don’t know. Around the time you started refusing to drive. Lost your nerve, worried in case the police caught up — ’

  ‘The police? You think I killed someone. Yes, you do. You think I’m so cold blooded I could knock someone down and just drive on — like what happened to that Walter Bury’s wife.’

  Bryan froze. ‘How did you know about that?’

  ‘I read about it — or Sandy told me. You think I — ’

  ‘No I don’t!’ It was Bryan’s turn to start shouting. ‘I don’t think anything. If you never talk to me what am I supposed to believe? If I’ve no idea what’s going on my mind starts inventing things. It’s obvious, isn’t it, Anna? Isn’t it!’

  Helen pretended she was going to sneeze. It was a way of covering her eyes and mouth. ‘There wasn’t any accident,’ she said. ‘I’d have told you.’

  ‘Would you?’

  ‘I thought if I gave up driving you’d have to spend more time with me.’

  ‘What? I can’t believe it. You felt so neglected … And spending all that time with Sandy Haran — I suppose you thought that would make me madly jealous.’

  She was pouting, like a naughty child who’s had enough, wants to be forgiven. He pulled her hand away from her face. ‘You were wasting your time, it never even crossed my mind. After all, he’s not exactly your type — a balding middle-aged man, dressed in baggy-arsed jeans. Why didn’t you tell me how you felt?’ He swung round to face me. ‘Why didn’t she tell me?’

  ‘It’s not always that easy.’

  ‘No.’ His voice had softened. He put out his hand to touch Helen’s face but she jerked her body away. ‘Oh, don’t be so silly. Anyway, what about all that fuss when you thought you’d put on weight? All of two pounds, I’d say. All that endless inspection in the mirror. New scales, accurate to a tenth of an ounce. Have you noticed, Anna, how she likes to stay poker-faced? That’s in case any movement produces lines at the corner of her eyes.’

  ‘I knew you despised me,’ she said, but her hand was steady when she lifted her glass and she couldn’t prevent a smile.

  ‘Come here.’ Bryan dragged her towards him and held her against his chest. ‘When I first met you I thought I was so incredibly lucky.’

  ‘Because I was on the cover of some stupid magazines.’

  ‘Yes, in a way that’s perfectly true. But not just that, other things.’

  She put on a baby voice. ‘What other things?’

  I wanted to go, leave them to it, but I decided to stay where I was — just a few minutes longer.

  ‘We’re friends,’ he said, ‘that’s what really matters. You, me, and Chloe. Friends, companions, we like spending time together.’

  ‘But not making love.’

  ‘That’s because of your pills, you’re always tired out.’

  ‘So are you.’

  ‘Fair enough, but once the play opens we can go back to London.’

  I stood up and they pulled apart, embarrassed, as though they had forgotten I was still there.

  ‘Thanks, Anna.’ Bryan stretched out his hand. ‘Thanks for everything, I don’t know what we’d have done without you.’

  They thought all their problems had been resolved and they would live happily ever after. Perhaps they would.

  ‘Just one last thing,’ I said, ‘have either of you any idea where Rona could have gone?’

  ‘Haven’t a clue; have you, Helen?’

  Helen looked at the ground. ‘I expect she’s escaped to her flat in Sutton.’

  ‘Why? Did she say something?’ I asked. ‘Shouldn’t somebody give her a ring?’

  ‘She’s not on the phone.’

  ‘In the morning I’ll try and contact a neighbour,’ said Bryan. ‘Rona would never have left Chloe if she hadn’t thought Lynsey could manage perfectly well.’ Neither of them seemed particularly concerned about Rona’s well being — nor with Lynsey’s come to that. I felt angry, upset, but short of asking the police to look for Rona there was nothing much I could do.

  ‘I’ll ring you tomorrow lunchtime,’ I said. ‘Perhaps you’ll have heard something by then.’

  Helen looked surprised. ‘Yes, all ri
ght.’

  ‘Yes, you do that.’ Bryan followed me out on to the drive. ‘Hey, listen, that woman you saw me with at the shopping centre.’ So he had seen me after all. ‘No doubt you thought the worst, although, God knows, if you can’t have a cup of coffee with someone of the opposite sex without … ’

  ‘I didn’t think anything,’ I lied.

  ‘Yes, you did. Anyway, it was a business meeting.’

  ‘You don’t have to explain.’

  ‘Oh, come on, I want to. You’ll think I’m insane but she was someone I hired. A private detective.’

  ‘To check up on Helen and Sandy.’

  ‘Don’t be crazy. I thought Helen was in some kind of trouble. She goes up to London every Tuesday, usually comes back in an odd kind of mood, won’t talk, seems withdrawn.’

  ‘What did you think was going on?’

  ‘I had no idea. I was worried.’

  ‘And?’ Surely after what I had just witnessed I deserved some kind of explanation?

  ‘She’s been attending some kind of clinic — for women. Somewhere in north London. D’you know anything about it?’

  ‘It depends. Does she have an eating disorder?’

  ‘How d’you mean? Oh, she’s not anorexic, she eats pretty well.’

  ‘But she’s obsessed with her weight. You said so yourself. People like Helen, people who’ve had to stay thin — athletes, models, actresses — they’re particularly susceptible.’

  ‘God, you don’t mean … Bingeing and … ’ He pulled a face. ‘Don’t tell her, will you — about the private eye?’

  ‘Of course not, but why don’t you let her know you’re worried about her, try to give her the confidence to tell you about it herself?’

  ‘If she found out I’d had her followed … ‘

  ‘Just be patient, sympathetic.’

  ‘I always am.’ He grinned. ‘Oh, you mean I don’t have the right bedside manner. Incidentally’ — he rested a hand on my shoulder — ‘I’m afraid you may’ve got the wrong impression. She’s not nearly as selfish as she seems, it’s just that she’s known Rona all her life, thinks of her like a mother, too tough and independent to come to any harm.’

  ‘I hope she’s right,’ I said, climbing into my car and winding down the window. ‘I just hope she’s right.’

  Bryan stood in the driveway, watching as I reversed into the space between the lawn and the monkey puzzle tree. Just before I turned into the road I raised an arm and glanced in the driving mirror, but he had gone back into the house.

  Chapter Eighteen

  For a moment I thought I had imagined it, hallucinated. She was sitting inside the vegetarian cafe in Waterloo Street in Clifton with her arms resting on one of the long wooden tables. When I moved closer I could see a bowl of soup and a bread roll, both untouched.

  ‘Rona?’

  Her hand slid across the table, knocking the bowl and splashing the saffron-coloured liquid over her paper napkin.

  ‘Where’ve you been? Are you all right?’

  She inclined her head a little, mopping up the soup that was in danger of dripping on to her lap.

  ‘We were worried about you.’ I turned to the counter and ordered a cup of coffee. While it was being poured I could hear Rona murmuring to herself — something about the baby. ‘It’s all right,’ I said, ‘Chloe’s fine. Lynsey took her to her friend’s house but she’s back home now, everything’s all right.’

  A shudder ran through her body. ‘I didn’t know what else … I didn’t know … ’ She was totally exhausted, incapable even of drinking the soup.

  ‘You don’t have to say anything now. If you like we could go to my flat.’

  ‘No, I have to tell someone. I’ve been so stupid, such a coward.’

  Her eyes were fixed on a knot in the table. She was searching for the right words, trying to steel herself to begin.

  ‘Did something happen?’ I said. ‘You had a phone call? Perhaps you just felt it was all too much.’

  She moved her head slowly, wearily. ‘Biddy,’ she said, ‘I went to see Biddy.’

  ‘Biddy? But I thought … ’

  She was hunched over the table. Suddenly she straightened up and the beaten look changed to something closer to the old familiar expression. Anger It’s anger that gives you strength …

  ‘Helen never kept in touch, you know, not after her parents died. Oh, a card at Christmas with a scribble on the back that was virtually impossible to decipher. I went to the wedding of course — her and Bryan — but since then … ’ She picked up her spoon. ‘D’you mind if I eat this, I came back on the train and I certainly wasn’t going to pay their restaurant car prices.’

  ‘Would you like something else? A salad, something on toast?’

  She shook her head. ‘After the baby — well, before they actually got her — Helen phoned me at the flat. She wanted my advice, that’s what she said, how to find a nanny, how you went about it. She was so excited about the adoption she never even asked after Biddy. Not a word.’ Breaking off a piece of bread roll she dipped it in the soup. ‘I said I’d find out everything she needed to know and ring her back.’

  ‘This was after the baby had been born, was it?’

  ‘Yes, I think so. Yes, it must have been because she knew it was a girl.’

  The man behind the counter had come round to ask if we needed anything else. He wasn’t trying to get rid of us — the lunchtime rush had ended — but I ordered two more coffees, then turned back to Rona.

  ‘Go on.’

  ‘Where was I?’

  ‘You were going to ring Helen back, to tell her how to find a nanny.’

  She sighed. ‘Biddy was away at the time. Every so often Social Services would arrange a fortnight in a residential home.’

  ‘To give you a rest.’

  ‘I suppose I’d been looking forward to some time on my own, but when it came I felt too tired to enjoy it very much. You get into a routine, you see, when it’s broken … ’

  ‘Yes, I know. How did you feel about Helen and the baby? Was the real reason she’d phoned because she hoped you’d come and take over?’

  ‘She was sounding me out. Helen can’t bear anyone to say no to her. She’s always been the same, ever since she was tiny.’

  I nodded, only to encourage her to continue, but she took it as a criticism of Helen.

  ‘Oh, I’m not blaming Helen, it was my decision.’

  The coffee arrived. Rona pushed the remains of the soup to one side but hung on to the bread roll, picking off small crumbs and chewing them as though it was a great effort.

  ‘After Helen phoned I was frantic. It was raining but I went for a walk in the park. There’s one quite near my flat, nothing special but I like the ducks, the noise they make, their beautiful oily feathers. There’s a white one, part farmyard, part mallard, I suppose they must have interbred.’ She broke off suddenly aware that she had shifted away from the point. ‘I suppose I’d known from the start what I was going to do.’

  ‘You mean as soon as Helen told you about the adoption?’

  ‘I went back home and rang her. I told her Biddy had died, six months before, and if she wanted I would be free in a few weeks’ time. Oh, you must think I’m so callous.’

  ‘I don’t.’

  ‘Well, you ought to.’ She glared at me, then relented and took hold of my hand. ‘Biddy seemed happy at the home. Just as happy as when she was with me. Sometimes I’d wonder what it was all for. She’s like a child, a small child, as long as she has everything she needs … Of course I knew Social Services wouldn’t pay but Father had left a little money, enough for at least four or five years. After that … well I could cross that bridge when I came to it.’

  ‘Did you tell Helen that Biddy had died in an accident?’

  She nodded miserably. ‘The same as I told you.’

  ‘What did she say?’

  ‘Helen? Oh, I forget. I expect she said it was terribly sad but really a blessing. No, that’s
not fair, I’m sure she tried to say the right things.’ She paused, taking hold of her blue glass beads and twisting them until they tightened on her neck. ‘Just before we all came to Bristol the matron of the home said Biddy was asking for me. I’d visited her of course and she’d seemed quite content but one of the other residents had pulled her hair and … Oh, I suppose I’d known all along it wasn’t going to work.’

  ‘It must have been dreadful for you.’

  ‘I’d brought it on myself. About six weeks ago I took a few days off — to go and visit. But I never did. Just went back to Sutton and sat there. Then I returned to Bristol. It was while I was away they found the body.’

  ‘Walter Bury?’

  ‘I met him once you know. In the woods. I’m sure it was him. They had his picture in the paper and it looked like the same man although I suppose it might have been someone else.’

  ‘What was he doing?’

  ‘That’s why I remember him. He was bending down studying some plants and I asked him what they were called and he said they were spiked speedwell, quite rare, only found in the Avon Gorge and a few other places.’

  Outside in the street someone had started unloading boxes out of the back of a van. A woman with a pram was complaining it was impossible to get past and the van driver was explaining he’d only be a couple of minutes.

  ‘Did you tell the police?’ I said.

  ‘No, why should I? It was several weeks before it happened, before the poor man died. Who can have done it, d’you s’pose? Lynsey kept saying it was because of his wife.’

  ‘His wife?’

  ‘Oh, Lynsey’d met someone, a friend of a friend, someone who’d known Walter Bury, someone who’d told her how his wife was killed in a road accident.’

  ‘Did she say who this friend was? Colin Elliot, was it?’

  Rona’s eyes had filled with tears but whether they were for Biddy or Walter Bury or just from total exhaustion I had no idea.

  I pushed her cup of coffee closer, encouraging her to drink. ‘How was Biddy when you saw her this time?’

  ‘Oh, Biddy-like.’