by Michael Wood
‘What are you going to do?’
‘I’m going to go up there and have a word.’
‘What are you going to say?’
‘I haven’t the foggiest. Come on Sian.’
‘Me?’
‘Yes.’
‘I don’t like heights.’
‘Neither do I. Come on, we can be scared together.’
They met Rory as they were entering the building. Rory told Matilda he had secured the confidence of a security guard who was going to take Matilda up to the roof.
The journey in the lift was smooth but seemed to take an age. Matilda and Sian stared straight ahead, their concentration firmly attached to the doors. The unnecessarily tall security guard tried to make small talk but he soon gave up when he realized he was being ignored.
There was a ping. They had reached their destination. Matilda took a deep breath as the doors opened and a gust of wind hit them all in the face. Fighting back the elements, Matilda and Sian struggled to leave the lift.
‘Keep this lift free,’ Matilda shouted to the security guard. Her words were blown away by the wind and she was sure he hadn’t heard her. He smiled and nodded as the doors closed.
Matilda and Sian looked like a comedy double act as they held on to each other for dear life. They made their way around to the front of the building and stopped as soon as they saw the Cravens.
Thomas was sitting on the ground, back against the ledge of the building, sheltering from the worst of the wind. Lois was leaning against the ledge. She was shivering with cold and struggling to keep her dressing gown closed. The pain she was in was etched on her face. It was difficult to tell whether it was pain from her injuries or pain from the situation she had found herself in. Martin was looking out over the city. He looked lost, his face a map of anger, frustration, betrayal, and despair. The wind blew away his tears before they had a chance to fall down his face.
Matilda, with Sian keeping her distance (her fear of heights was almost chronic), managed to get quite close before she was noticed.
‘Stay back,’ shouted Martin, though his words were little more than a whisper by the time they reached Matilda’s ears.
Matilda stopped and held her hands up. ‘What are you doing, Martin?’
‘What does it look like I’m doing? I’m teaching this … this … thing a lesson,’ he said. He pointed at his wife. He was unable to call her a woman, by her name, or his wife. The hatred he felt for his wife was of volcanic proportions. This was not going to end well.
‘Martin, I know you’re angry. I would be too, but there’s no need to drag Thomas into this.’
Martin looked down at the child shivering at the corner of the roof. ‘Did you know this bastard isn’t even mine?’
Matilda closed her eyes. It’s a good job he’s deaf. He doesn’t deserve to hear any of this.
‘I know, Martin. Look, it’s bloody freezing up here. Why don’t we all go down and have a coffee, warm up, and have a good chat. You can air your views.’
‘I don’t want to chat. I’m fed up chatting, of listening to this bitch’s lies. She’s lied from day one.’
‘I haven’t, Martin,’ Lois cried. ‘I love you.’
That’s the last thing he wants to hear.
‘Love? You don’t know the meaning of the word. You’re selfish. You’ve thought of nobody but yourself your entire life.’ He turned to Matilda, ‘do you know, she was the last of us to learn sign language? Do you know why? Because she was never at fucking home. She was constantly out, probably sleeping with any bloke who smiled at her.’
‘That’s not true!’
‘No? I may look stupid but I’m not. You’ve cheated on me our entire marriage and I’ve just sat back and taken it. I’ve let you get away with so much and what have you done for me in return? Nothing.’
‘Martin, please, let’s go down. I’m in a lot of pain,’ Lois said, holding firmly onto her stomach.
‘Pain? I’ll tell you what pain is. Pain is having to talk to your daughter about periods while you were fuck knows where; watching a child who isn’t even your son in the Christmas nativity; explaining to Jack why his mother wasn’t at his tenth birthday party. You think you’re in pain? You haven’t got the first idea.’ He lunged forward and punched his wife hard in the stomach. She screamed and staggered backwards. She held onto her stomach and bent double.
Thomas flinched as he saw his mother’s pain. There were tears in his eyes. He had no idea what was going on.
‘Martin, stop,’ Matilda called out. She started edging forward again. ‘This is not going to solve anything.’
Lois took her hand away from her stomach. It was covered in blood. The punch had torn the stitches and opened up a healing wound.
‘I’m bleeding. You have to do something,’ she pleaded with Matilda.
‘Martin, calm down. Come on, let’s talk. Tell me about meeting Lucas Branning.’
Matilda turned back to Sian and nodded for her to edge closer so she could attend to Lois and her injuries while she distracted Martin. Unfortunately, fear had gripped Sian and she was rendered stuck against the back of the lift shaft. Matilda was alone.
‘Lucas? That loser. I knew him for what he was the second I set eyes on him. I’m good at reading people. I have to be. After this bitch cheated on me and promised never to do it again I knew the signs. I knew there’d be a second time. And a third. And a fourth.’
‘Martin, what did you say to Lucas?’ She needed to get him back on track, take his attention away from his wife and on to her.
‘I told him that his brother-in-law was making his sister’s life a living hell and he should do something about it. He looked gullible so I knew he’d fall for whatever I told him. Pillock. He did too. He went straight round to that … whatever his name is.’
‘Colin Theobald.’
‘Whatever. Now, he was a bloke I could do business with. Have you seen him? Built like a tank. I could picture him teaching that bastard Kevin Hardaker a lesson and I knew he’d scare the shit out of this little bitch.’
‘How much did you offer him?’
‘Ten grand. I didn’t tell him I’d pay him. I said Kevin’s wife would. He believed me too. Can you believe that? Another gullible twat.’
‘You asked him to rape me?’ Lois cried through the tears and the pain.
‘No,’ he leaned in close to her face. ‘I told him to have some fun with you. I told him to do whatever he wanted but to keep you alive.’
‘Oh my God.’
‘What are you crying for? Knowing you, you probably enjoyed it.’
‘Martin—’ Matilda began but he interrupted her.
‘Have you seen the paper today? They know. Everybody knows what a lying, cheating, dirty, sex-mad whore this piece of filth is. They’re all talking about me. They’ll all be laughing. “Oh look, there’s Martin the doormat. Did you know his wife screws every man she meets and he just lets her? What a mug! He stays at home every night looking after the kids, one of them isn’t even his, while she’s out shagging anyone in sight”.’
‘Nobody is saying that, Martin. We’ve just come from your house. I spoke to your neighbour. She doesn’t think like that at all.’
‘Of course not, not to your face. But behind your back they’ll be saying all sorts of things. No, I’m not putting up with it anymore. Come here.’
Martin grabbed his wife by the shoulders and dragged her up from the roof. She screamed in pain. The front of her dressing gown was soaked in blood. He clamped his arm around her neck and held on to her tight. She pulled at his arm as her face reddened. She was struggling to breathe. With his free arm he grabbed the collar of Thomas’s jumper and lifted him up.
‘Martin, wait,’ Matilda screamed. ‘What about Jack and Anna?’ She edged ever closer. She could almost reach out and touch them.
‘What about them?’
‘They need you. They need their mother. They need their brother.’
‘No they don�
�t. They’re old enough to look after themselves. Besides, she’s not been a mother to them.’ His voice was calm. He had made up his mind.
Matilda looked directly into his eyes and all she saw was sadness. There was no stopping him. There was nothing else she could do.
Martin took a step back, all the time keeping his eyes locked on Matilda. Lois struggled but the life was being choked out of her. Thomas, scared, crying and clinging to his father, was oblivious to what was about to happen next.
Matilda jumped forward.
Sian, struck with terror, let out a glass-shattering scream. She raised her hands to cover her face. The last thing she saw was four people disappearing over the edge of a tall building.
EPILOGUE
Music began. Beautiful Day by U2. By the first chorus, the curtain slowly closed around the coffin. Sobs from the congregation were heard, growing louder as the dark blue heavy curtains met in the middle, drowning out the song.
The front row was packed out with family; mother and father inconsolable, sister equally devastated at the side of her grieving parents. The second, third, and fourth rows were taken up with cousins, aunties, uncles, distant relatives, close friends, and neighbours.
Towards the back of the hall sat the work colleagues; Sian Mills cried a torrent of tears into a rapidly disintegrating tissue, Faith Easter was fighting a losing battle and searched her bag for one more hanky. Aaron Connolly was his usual stony-faced self but he kept swallowing hard, choked with emotion. Rory Fleming wasn’t afraid to shed a tear or two, but he swiftly wiped them away, and Scott Andrews looked down at the floor. His tears ran freely down his face. Valerie Masterson was the picture of professionalism. She sniffled several times but managed to keep her emotions in check. At the end of the row sat Adele Kean. She was hidden behind a pair of large sunglasses but her face was stained with the tracks of dried tears. This was a genuine tragedy.
Outside, the clouds were heavy and threatened rain. So far it had stayed dry but the wind was blowing strong and the dark clouds were thickening. It was only a matter of time before the heavens opened and released a deluge of rain.
It was to be Matilda Darke’s first funeral since her husband’s exactly one year ago to the day and she could not face going inside the crematorium. Making sure she was at the back of the crowd, she waited until everyone had entered before she turned on her heel and headed in the direction of the graves.
She visited Jonathan Harkness first and thanked him for the collection of crime fiction novels. She promised to look after them and said she would continue adding to it with new releases from his favourite authors.
‘I phoned a carpenter last week. They’ve measured up one of my spare rooms and I’m turning it into a library. It’s going to be floor to ceiling shelves. I’m changing the glass in the windows too so the sunlight won’t bleach the books. I know you’ll approve.’
She touched the headstone with a gloved hand and turned away. She would be visiting him again. He may have been a murderer, but there was something about Jonathan Harkness that would always have a hold over her. Next time, she would make a point of bringing flowers.
As she made her way to her husband’s grave she heard the sound of the last verse coming from the hall. The service was coming to an end. Was it fate that said she should return exactly one year later to witness a funeral of someone taken long before their time?
JAMES MATHEW DARKE
OCTOBER 6TH 1970 – MARCH 28TH 2015
LOVING HUSBAND, SON, BROTHER & UNCLE
‘Hello James,’ she said to the marble headstone. ‘One year ago today we were lowering you into the ground. Sometimes it feels like only yesterday and other times it seems like a lifetime ago. Some days I think I can’t carry on without you. But I know that I have to, I can’t let myself or my team down. I think about you all the time, day and night. You’re the only person I’ve ever loved and being without you is agony. I … I can’t … I don’t … I—’ She couldn’t finish. She searched in her pockets for a tissue.
‘Matilda.’ Adele put a hand on Matilda’s shoulder and stirred her from her reverie.
‘Adele. Is it over already?’
‘Yes.’
‘How was it?’
‘It was horrible. A beautiful send-off though. His family said some lovely things about him, especially his sister.’
‘How are his parents?’
‘I have no idea how they’re going to get through this.’
They both looked over to where Grahame and Sandra Glass were being escorted by their surviving child. Grahame looked numb, his face expressionless. Sandra needed supporting. So struck with grief she could hardly walk. It had been a difficult decision to choose whether to turn Joseph Glass’s life support machine off. In the end they couldn’t bear to see their son lying comatose in a strange bed, knowing he would never wake up.
‘How are you?’ Adele said, rubbing Matilda’s back.
‘I’m OK. Exactly a year ago today since we buried him.’
‘I know.’
‘I couldn’t go in there. I’m sorry …’
‘Don’t worry about it. Everyone will understand,’ Adele quickly placated. ‘There’s a bit of a do at the Beauchief. Are you coming?’
‘Yes. I want to offer my condolences to Mr and Mrs Glass. Today is about them, not me.’
Matilda looked down at the grave of her husband, said a quiet goodbye, and turned away. She linked arms with Adele as they made their way to the car park.
‘It was Lois Craven’s funeral yesterday,’ Matilda said.
‘Yes. I saw it in the paper this morning. When’s Martin’s?’
‘I’m not sure. Sometime this week.’
‘It must be hell for those kids. Who’s going to be looking after Thomas?’
‘Jack is being very responsible. He’s deferring his A-levels for a year and will take them part-time while he works to support Thomas. Anna isn’t interested in going to college so she’s going to get a job too when she’s finished her GCSEs.’
‘It’s a bit of an undertaking though.’
‘What else can they do? There’s no other family to take care of him. It’s either that or put him up for adoption.’
‘By the way, Sian finally told me everything that happened on the roof of that building. She says you were almost taken over yourself.’
‘Not quite.’
‘Your feet left the ground as you grabbed for Thomas.’
‘Well, yes, but only for a short—’
‘You could have died, Matilda. You took a massive risk. Again.’
‘You didn’t see him, Adele. Thomas was sitting in the corner of the roof, just waiting there. His mum and dad were going through all sorts and he was completely oblivious. He was an innocent victim in all of this. You should have seen his face when Martin grabbed him; he looked so confused: terrified and yet trusting of his father at the same time. I couldn’t let Martin kill a defenceless child. You’d have done exactly the same thing if you were in my position and don’t try and tell me otherwise.’
‘But still … You should have waited for backup before going up to the roof. What was going through your mind when you leapt forward like that?’
Matilda thought for a second. I would have been reunited with James. ‘I’ve no idea. I didn’t want Thomas’s death on my conscience though. If Martin had been up there with Lois, I wouldn’t have put myself in such a position. A child should not suffer for the actions of their parents.’
‘If you’d gone over—’
‘No ifs, Adele,’ Matilda interrupted.
They walked on slowly towards the exit. ‘Any news on Ben Hales?’ Adele asked.
‘He’s been discharged from hospital. Apparently his wife’s returned and is taking care of him. He was lucky he wasn’t killed.’
‘I wonder what happened to him to just suddenly make him want to kill himself like that.’
Matilda opened and closed her mouth. She hadn’t told anyone of the confronta
tion in her hallway – the angry, faraway look Ben had as he gripped her throat. She genuinely believed he was going to rape her. She hoped she would never have to see him again.
‘What is it?’
At the edge of the car park, Matilda stopped dead in her tracks. Her lower jaw dropped and her eyes widened.
‘Matilda? What’s wrong?’
‘That car. That black BMW. That’s the one that’s been following me.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘I’d know that registration number anywhere.’
The driver’s door opened but nobody stepped out. First, Matilda thought she was being followed by Colin Theobald, then Lucas Branning, but neither of them had access to the same model of BMW that had been following her. She then assumed it was Ben Hales. He had been driving a black BMW, though he had only admitted to the phone calls, not to following her. Now, she had found them. Or rather, they had found her.
Matilda swallowed hard. She was about to face her stalker.
Out of the car, dressed from head to toe in black, stepped Sally Meagan, Carl Meagan’s mother.
‘Oh my God.’
‘Is that who I think it is?’ Adele asked.
‘I’m afraid so.’
Their eyes locked. Matilda couldn’t blink, the wind was stinging her eyes and her vision was blurring. She could feel the onset of a panic attack, but nothing could tear her away.
Eventually, Sally closed the door of the car and headed towards Matilda, taking long, slow strides. They didn’t break eye contact.
Adele’s grip on Matilda tightened in solidarity. Matilda was unable to move, so rooted was she to the spot. She would love to turn heel and run off into the distance, but her legs wouldn’t allow it.
‘I’m not going to make a scene,’ Sally spoke quietly. ‘This is hardly the time or the place. I’ve come here to give you a warning.’
Matilda swallowed hard.
‘I’ve been watching you and I will continue to watch you every day of your life so that you never forget me or Carl. I blame you 100 per cent for not returning him to me and I will not rest until I know what happened to him. Do you understand me?’