by Anita Waller
‘Right, well, this one does. Can you get two more tickets to this concert? And, if you can, can you keep it secret from Grace? I don’t want to make her even more nervous than she already will be.’
‘I’ll ring Lily first thing tomorrow morning and see what I can do. It shouldn’t be a problem.’
‘Lily?’
‘Lily Montague, the kids’ head teacher. She’s erm … very nice.’
‘I see. So, we’re getting over the estimable Jenny, are we?’
‘Well over. But, Lily’s a no-go area; she teaches both of my kids. However, she did make me think about the possibility of starting to live again.’
‘Shame. So, you’ll try to get tickets?’
‘I’m sure it won’t be a problem. And on the day of the concert, neither of the kids are coming home from school. They’re keeping them after lessons and feeding them, then, having a final run through before the evening performance. You’ll be fine coming to Lindum Lodge. Can’t wait to see their faces when they realise you two are there. Don’t forget Adam’s in it as well, it’s not all about Grace. It’s his last year, so they’re doing a play with every member of the year. That should be good, if a bit chaotic.’
‘Right, we’re coming on the eleventh, so will have time to get over the jet lag by the thirteenth. We’re booking into one of the Lincoln hotels for the first two nights, but we’d like to come to you after those days, if that’s okay. We’re staying a week, flying back on the eighteenth.’
‘That will be brilliant. You can get to know Dad a bit better. He virtually lives here now. He takes and collects the kids every day for me, because …’ His voice faded away. He hadn’t told Tim about Jenny’s car having been seen.
‘Because?’ Tim felt the strain in his brother’s voice. ‘Because, what? Is something wrong?’
‘It’s just Jenny’s car has been seen outside the school, so we’re a bit wary of them ever being on their own.’
‘Don’t you think it seems strange …’ Tim spoke hesitantly, ‘… strange that she wasn’t on drugs and seemed really happy with you when you were here in November, and, suddenly, by December, she’s run off with a drug dealer? And it all happened within hours of Mum dying? What the hell happened? Did Mum find something out which had her so upset, she drove into that bloody truck? There’s a lot more to this than we know.’
Mark sighed. ‘I’m sure there probably is, but to be honest, Tim, we’ve all got over Jenny. Life’s really good now, and I don’t suppose we’ll ever know what triggered that last argument between them. The kids seem quite settled, and so am I. I’ll let you go – I’ve just heard Grace’s footsteps, and she should have been asleep hours ago. I’d better check she’s okay. Ring soon and let me know which hotel you’re going to be in. Looking forward to seeing you both.’
He cut his brother off and slipped out of bed. Opening his door, he called softly, ‘Grace? You okay.’
She was headed back into her bedroom, and stepped out again when she heard her daddy. ‘I’m okay. Just needed a wee.’
He nodded. ‘Okay, sweetheart. Sweet dreams.’
‘Sweet dreams, Daddy.’
Grace climbed into her bed, reaching across to her drawer. She fished around until she located the picture, took it out, and gave her mummy a kiss. ‘Night, night, Mummy. Love you.’
18
Monday, 11 July 2016
It was good to be standing at the carousel in Manchester airport without the horror of a funeral looming, Tim thought, with a half-smile on his face.
‘You okay?’ Steve had seen the smile.
‘I’m fine. I was just thinking the last two times we stood here, it was for funerals, first Ray’s, and then, Mum’s. Not good times. It should be a lot better visit, this one.’
Steve briefly put his arm around Tim’s shoulders and squeezed. ‘We’ll make better memories this time,’ he promised. He stepped forward and grabbed the first of their two suitcases, and then retrieved the second one.
A few minutes later, they had taken possession of a hire car, and were navigating their way to Lincoln.
Mark and Michael were waiting in the Double Tree hotel for Tim and Steve to arrive. They chatted about many different things, but both felt a degree of anxiety knowing Tim would be meeting his father on a more prolonged basis than before. They had met briefly at Anna’s funeral, but no relationship had been formed. This trip would be different. This time, there would be no shock announcements regarding parentage, just a period of getting to know each other.
Both stood as they spotted a laughing Tim and Steve try to get through the doors at the same time. Handshakes all round, and the two visitors went to check in.
Michael smiled at Mark. ‘You’re so alike. It’s quite spooky. And you’re both wearing pale blue shirts and jeans.’
Mark laughed. ‘It used to happen all the time when we were in our teens. Mum didn’t buy us matching clothes, but we always managed to wear the same colours. In fact, it got to the stage where we used to check with each other what we were intending wearing, the times we went out together. It made us feel a little bit more individual, but it also helped people work out which was which with us. We were very close. I lost a lot when Ray wouldn’t accept Tim was gay. I lost my closest friend.’
Registrations complete, they headed for the lifts and up to the room.
‘So, you want to sleep, or go out for food?’
‘We managed to get a bit of sleep on the plane, so maybe some lunch? There’s the restaurant here, if that’s okay with you.’
And so, the afternoon passed pleasantly; Michael felt a sense of relief he and Tim had spoken easily, after a first tentative handshake, and Steve had reacted as though he had always known Michael.
Mark and Michael left with time to spare for collecting the children; it was becoming obvious the two new arrivals needed sleep.
Michael issued an invitation to lunch at Lindum for the following day, adding that only he would be there; Mark had to work.
There had been enthusiasm for the suggestion of lunch the following day, and it turned into an easy afternoon for Michael, Tim and Steve. Mark rang while they were out on the patio to check murders weren’t being committed in his back garden, and Michael laughed.
‘We’re fine. Now, get back to work. I’m keeping them well entertained. You want to check for yourself?’
He handed the phone over to Tim, and went into the kitchen to leave the two brothers to talk.
Steve and Tim decided to leave before half past two, so Michael could collect Adam and Grace, without the children realising anything was out of the ordinary.
As they went out of the front door, Tim hesitated. ‘Should I call you Dad?’
‘Mark does. And I’m honoured. But, you make your own mind up, Tim. Call me whatever you feel comfortable with.’
Tim nodded. ‘Okay, Dad.’
‘And I’m now doubly honoured. And let me just tell you this, Tim, so there is never any doubt on the subject. You and Mark were conceived in love. I loved your mother then, and I love her now. Circumstances split us up, not a lack of love.’
Again, Tim nodded. ‘I know. Thank you. See you tomorrow morning? We’ll move in then.’
Michael went back into the house and collected his car keys.
A good day, a very good day.
Jenny looked around the tiny lounge and smiled. It looked good. A couple of coats of paint, some throws on the rather tatty settee and new cushions gave a homely atmosphere, and the new lamps lit up the dark corners. It screamed welcome.
There was only one bedroom, but it had a double bed. They could share until she got back the letters. It would probably only be for one night, anyway. She was only guessing, but she rather thought Mark would hand over the letters with some speed. He would want Grace back.
She took the teddy bear out of the bag and sat it on the settee. It finished the room off; she tried to imagine herself as a little girl, and looking at it through childish eyes. It was good.
; She gave one last glance into each room, tidy and welcoming. Yes, tomorrow night Grace would be here with her, God willing.
She drove home, going over and over the plan in her mind. She needed to get into the school, without being seen by Grace or Adam, and it would cause problems if any of the teachers saw her, as she felt sure Mark would have put a ban on her being anywhere near her children on school premises. But, she knew the set up around the back of the stage, and the various cupboards and hiding places. It would be a risk, but one worth taking. And up to the point when she took Grace, she wouldn’t be committing any crime; they would just throw her out.
The plan would begin tonight. She had to be quiet around Sebastian. He had to start to wonder if something was wrong. If her plan worked, she would only need to be away for one night, and he would be none the wiser for what had actually happened. But, on the evening she took Grace, she needed him to think she was taking time out to consider if she was doing the right thing in marrying him.
She could then go back to him on Thursday, contrite and tearful, and everything would be good. Grace would be back with Mark, she would have the letters, and she need never worry again.
This had to work. She thought back to when she had made the plans for killing Ray Carbrook, and knew she could make this one work just as well as that one had.
And this time, she didn’t have Anna throwing spanners in any works. Everything had been good, until Anna had met fucking Michael again …
The man was bad news, and if ever she got the chance to cause him problems, she would take it. Michael fucking Groves. Anna fucking Groves. She relived the moment the white roses in the crystal vase had shattered against Anna’s head; so much blood, on the floor, on the bed, blinding her, as she ran screaming from the house.
One down, one to go, if she didn’t get the letters back.
19
Wednesday, 13 July 2016
Tim and Steve arrived just after ten o’clock, and Michael made them coffees before they carried their luggage upstairs to the guest room. He smiled as he heard the chatter and laughter; they sounded relaxed and at ease with each other. He had been concerned the memories of growing up with Ray Carbrook in this house would impinge on this week, but it seemed not.
The weather was almost too hot to be comfortable, and they had lunch on the patio under the welcome shade of a huge umbrella. Mark was home by one o’clock, and joined them, as they enjoyed a bottle of wine with their sandwiches.
Tommy and Sally March arrived at Lindum Lodge during the afternoon, and it soon became clear they wanted to discuss Jenny. Michael listened patiently to the words coming from Sally, but also saw the grief on Tommy’s face. He sensed Sally didn’t believe Jenny would ever have anything to do with drugs; he also sensed Tommy believed it, but didn’t want to acknowledge his daughter would ever be involved in that world.
Michael glanced across at Mark, who was trying to explain they hadn’t actually had anything to do with her, but she was somewhere in the area. Mark took out his phone, clicked on the pictures icon, and showed them the picture of Jenny’s car, taken by Michael.
Sally turned to him. ‘You saw her?’
He nodded. ‘I did.’
‘But, you don’t know her. How could you be sure …’
‘I did meet your daughter, Sally. And, at first, this house had pictures of her. Trust me, please, it was her. I don’t think Mark would want you to push it with Grace, but she was the first one to see her mum. She saw her a couple of days before I saw her. And who better than Grace to recognise her mother.’
Mark nodded. ‘Sally, Jenny will contact you one day, I’m sure. She loves you very much. It’s probably a difficult time for her right now. Just have patience, and she’ll get in touch.’
Tim appeared to feel very uncomfortable, and a quick glance across to Steve showed he felt the same. They didn’t really know all the circumstances behind Jenny’s disappearance, and it seemed her parents didn’t, either.
A tear escaped, and Sally raised her hand to brush it away. ‘We miss that life we had, so much. We used to have the children a lot, because Jenny used to bring them to us. Now, we very rarely see them, but it doesn’t mean we’ve stopped loving them, any more than we have stopped loving Jenny. Whatever she’s done, she’s our daughter, and that love for her has always been unconditional.’
Mark’s mind flashed to the letters under the mattress in Sheffield, and he wondered if she would be speaking of unconditional love, if she ever had sight of Jenny’s words. He doubted it.
‘You can have the children whenever you want them, Sally. They’re over the initial turmoil now, and seem to be coping without their mum very well. No matter what, Sally, Tommy, she won’t be coming back here. But, Adam and Grace love you, and I have no objections at all to them going to stay with you.’
Sally’s face lit up. ‘Really? We’ve booked the holiday for the four of us in Portugal, but maybe we can do some other stuff with them as well, if that’s okay?’
Mark smiled at his mother-in-law. ‘It’s absolutely fine. Passports are all up to date, so they’re good to go. We’ll postpone Grace’s music lessons, until she starts back at school.’
‘You’ve booked her some?’
‘Oh, yes.’ Mark’s voice was firm. ‘Just wait until you hear her tonight.’
The conversation steered itself on to easier ground, and just after six o’clock, they set off for the performance. Sally carried Grace’s dress made by Lissy, her Nan’s friend and neighbour in Sheffield. It would be perfect for tonight’s appearance.
Michael, Sally, Tommy, Tim and Steve picked seats as near to the front as they could get, and Sally placed her handbag on a seat to save it for Mark.
Mark made his way to the back of the stage and stared around in bewilderment. There were children everywhere, all in costume. He spotted Grace pretty quickly; she had on her school uniform, and appeared to be the only child wearing it.
He moved towards her, and she grabbed his hand. ‘Over here, Daddy. It’s really busy.’
He laughed. ‘I’d noticed. Are you okay?’
‘I am, now my dress is here. I thought you might forget …’
‘As if. You need help putting it on?’
She shook her head. ‘No, Mrs. Montague will do it.’ She leaned against the curtain behind her, and it moved. ‘Oops!’
‘Careful! We don’t want our budding performer injured.’
‘We store chairs in there, usually, and I didn’t think about them putting them all out in the hall. Is it full?’
‘Come and look.’
Mark led her by the hand to the edge of the stage curtain and lifted it slightly to one side. She looked out and gasped.
‘You didn’t say Nan and Granddad March were coming! And is that Uncle Tim? And Uncle Steve?’
‘Certainly is. I thought it would be a nice surprise.’
‘Well, I’m even more scared, now.’
He laughed and kissed the top of her head. ‘I’ve got to go. Good luck, sweetheart. You’ll be perfect, you know you will.’
Mark returned to the hall and Grace to where she had hung her dress. She didn’t know whether she was pleased or not her grandparents and uncles had arrived; it certainly put added pressure on for ‘Annie’s Song’ to be note perfect.
She picked up her dress and headed for Mrs. Montague’s office, the room designated as the girls changing room.
Jenny stretched out a leg and made herself more comfortable. The curtain hid her well, and while it may be cramped behind the two broken chairs at the back of the storage area, it was also very dark. The conversation between her husband and her daughter had caused mixed emotions; she might be with Sebastian now, but Mark would always be the love of her life.
For him, she had killed.
Adam’s group performed their play, and Grace heard the volume of the applause. She had been watching the rehearsals earlier in the day and knew it was good; the audience appreciated it, and were responding enth
usiastically.
She was standing waiting in the wings with the rest of the music group, holding the bass. For the first part of their performance, they were playing ‘Under the Sea’, all of them taking part. They took a bow to tremendous applause, and Grace left the stage. The group reorganised themselves so the gap wasn’t noticeable, and Mrs. Montague raised her baton. The children lifted their recorders and one bass. Lily Montague turned to face the audience and smiled. ‘This next piece is to introduce our last performer of the evening.’
She turned back to face the children and they began to play ‘Amazing Grace’. Grace, standing waiting in the wings, began to feel her face grow hot, and she muttered, calm, calm, several times, in a vague attempt at settling her nerves.
She heard the piece come to a somewhat bedraggled end, and the applause start.
Lily Montague waited until it had died down and then spoke. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, our final performance of the evening will follow in just one minute. I want to thank you all for attending tonight, and will you please remain in place at the end, until your child comes to you. After which, you can take our little darlings home.’ There was laughter from the audience.
‘And, now, please welcome our own Amazing Grace, Grace Carbrook, on the flute.‘
Grace stepped forward to a hushed auditorium. She raised the flute to her lips and, without benefit of sheet music or stand, she began to play ‘Annie’s Song.’ The notes flew out across the hall, and there was utter silence from the audience.
Mark was aware of tears rolling down Sally’s cheeks, unchecked. He reached out to squeeze her hand, and she returned the gesture.
The tune died away perfectly, and there was a two second hiatus, before the hundred or so people in the audience stood as one. They began to clap, and it seemed to Grace it was endless. She took many bows, until Lily Montague intervened.
‘Thank you, everyone. I’m so pleased you enjoyed that, but now, Grace has to leave us to gather her things. It’s past their bedtimes for many of our youngsters, and I don’t think for one minute we’ll get any work out of them tomorrow. So, thank you, everyone. One final clap for Grace.’