by David Belbin
Polly kissed him and he kissed her back.
‘It was always you I wanted,’ she told him. ‘Why don’t you get in bed while I check on the kids?’
He’d not meant to sleep with her, but would do whatever it took to get what he wanted. And the sex, ten minutes later, was good. Sex with Polly was always good. Over too quickly, but that was because it was so intense, for both of them: a visceral, animal pleasure. Afterwards, she found it easier to talk. That was what he was banking on. They cuddled.
‘Why couldn’t you say no to Ed? Would he have hurt you?’
‘Not in the way you mean.’
‘Explain.’
‘Listen to him: explain. There’s always the schoolteacher in you.’
‘Sorry.’ He waited for her to explain anyway.
‘I did a stupid thing and Ed knew about it. He could have got me into trouble.’
‘What was it?’
‘You don’t want to know.’
‘I think I’ve guessed already.’
‘You can’t have,’ she muttered, head turned away from him.
‘You want to tell me,’ he insisted. ‘You have to tell someone. It can’t be right that only Ed knows. It gives him too much power over you.’
If he was wrong about what had happened, she would ask him what he meant. But she didn’t. Nick waited, nuzzling her chest, listening to her heartbeat speed up and slow down. When she began, her voice was little more than a whisper.
‘Me and Ed, it started out as a bit of fun. I’d married Phil too young, never been with another bloke and there I was all of a sudden, stuck at home with two kids. Ed chased me, spent money on me. I was flattered, but it weren’t meant to go anywhere. We’d have finished in a month or two if Ed hadn’t got arrested. Then, when Ed got out of prison, first time, he came round, wanted to start up again. I didn’t want to know. Until Ed told me how Terry had bugged my bedroom. That was how he got caught.’
She paused, collecting herself. When she started again, her voice was louder, colder. ‘I had no idea. That my own brother could . . . I went straight round there. Terry didn’t deny it. He said we both got what we deserved: Ed in prison, me – separated, halfway to being divorced. That’s when I hit him. Terry hit me back.’
‘It was self-defence.’
‘Yeah. Terry were too strong for me. He pushed me away, would have hit me again if I’d given him chance. I picked up the nearest thing I could reach. A golf trophy. The base were made of slate.’
Polly stopped, leaving him to fill in the blanks. She had killed her own brother. How did you deal with that? On the drive to the airport, Ed had warned him, only Nick had lacked the imagination to understand. It had taken him months to figure out what Ed was getting at.
‘How many times did you hit him?’ he asked.
‘Once was enough. When he fell, I could tell how bad it was. An ambulance would’ve done no good. And he weren’t just my brother, he were a policeman. I should’ve called the ambulance anyway, but I was terrified. I did the only thing I could think of. I called Ed. And he sorted it. Said he’d throw the golf trophy in the Trent for me, then told me to go home, make sure I wasn’t seen. I thought he were going to make it look like a robbery gone wrong. I didn’t know Terry had a gun. It was unregistered, hidden under the bed. Police reckon he bought it in case of a revenge attack. I told Ed what time Liv got home from work so he’d be gone by then. I had no idea what he was going to do to her. He found the gun while he was waiting.’
Nick could guess the rest, but she kept talking.
‘Ed decided to make it look like she’d shot him, then herself. He shot Terry where I’d hit his head, which confused the police. Only when Liv came in, Ed must have liked what he saw. He couldn’t resist raping her first. And that made him careless. He left traces. When he rang up, he boasted that what he’d done made me even safer. I was so ashamed. He was far worse than I thought he was. But he was right. The police didn’t suspect me at all, didn’t even check I really was at home with the kids when it happened. They wanted Ed. And the alibi he’d set up for himself had holes in it.’
‘The police knew you’d had an affair with him?’
‘Far as they were concerned, that was long over. And I didn’t have any more contact with Ed after the shooting. One call from a box, that were it. He didn’t bring me into his story at trial. He’d have got as bad a sentence for one murder as two, so there were no point. But he knew he owned me. I thought that was all right, because he was safely inside. I played the grieved sister, wanting to make sure he stayed there. It weren’t an act. I hated him.’
She went quiet.
‘Only then his appeal was successful,’ Nick prompted.
‘Once he were out, I shouted all the louder about him being released. I thought it’d help keep Ed away from me. I didn’t realize he was worried about not getting his compensation, the money he wanted to start a new life with. So he turned up one day, told me I had to play happy families or he’d land me in it. I had no alibi for the murder. The police never thought I was a suspect, but once Ed testified, they could have me. Especially if he still had the trophy I killed Terry with. According to him, he never threw it away. It was well hid. He could’ve cleared himself any time.’
‘Except that he raped and killed Liv.’
‘Once he was freed, that didn’t matter. He’d already been tried. They couldn’t do him again. But they could do me. When he turned up, made his threats, I had to sleep with him, to stop him telling. When you found out, I had to let you think . . . what you thought. I didn’t want to. I wanted him gone. And now he is.’
Nick let his head slip from her breast. She didn’t seem to notice. He lay staring at the dark ceiling.
‘It’s a relief to say it out loud,’ she said, nuzzling him, then added, in a whisper, ‘You won’t tell, will you?’
‘I won’t tell,’ Nick said.
She went quiet. He’d got what he’d come for. Time to go.
‘I’m sorry you’ve had to live with that,’ he said, preparing his exit. ‘No one to share it with. Beating yourself up.’
No reply. She was already asleep, her chest rising and falling against his. Nick couldn’t get out of bed without waking her.
He waited for her to shift in her sleep. He was anxious to find a phone, tell Sarah the truth. Only what would be the point? The truth wouldn’t change anything. He’d be betraying a confidence in order to satisfy Sarah’s curiosity. Maybe truth was never the point. Most days he thought there was no point to anything.
Beside him, Polly snored softly. She always slept heavily, no matter what was going on. He must get her to teach him the trick. It never ceased to surprise Nick, the things some people could learn to live with.
And without.