by Jessie Keane
‘Hi Alice,’ said Lily. She could feel a stupid talking-to-an-invalid grin pasting itself all over her face, but she couldn’t help it. ‘I’m Lily, remember me?’
Of course she don’t, thought Lily. She’s never clapped eyes on me in her life before. And look at her. The poor bitch don’t even know which way is up.
Lily looked doubtfully at the nurse, who would have ejected her straight from the room if she’d known what she had really come here for – to find out if Alice Blunt had shot Leo. One look at the wreck in the chair made it clear she wasn’t going to find out a damned thing, not here. And seriously – could this slight, pathetic piece of human flotsam ever have had the strength in her, the passion in her, to fire a single shot?
‘Take a seat and talk to her,’ said the nurse. ‘Might jog her memory.’
‘How long’s she been like this?’
‘Oh – ten years or so. Since before I came here, anyway.’
‘What, she just sits here like this? All the time?’
‘Sometimes she’s a little naughty, aren’t you, Alice?’
No answer.
‘Sometimes she goes off down to the lake by herself, but that’s okay, we always know where to find her. Alice likes the lake – don’t you, Alice?’
Alice said nothing.
‘Messes up her trainers, gets them all muddy. She was down there after tea yesterday: look at the state they’re in. I seem to spend half my life cleaning off Alice’s trainers.’
Nothing.
‘Go on,’ said the nurse, ‘talk to her. I’ll be right along the hall if you need me.’
The nurse left the room, leaving the door wide open. Lily took off her backpack but held it close to her. It was still stuffed with all the money and with the videotape. The Magnum – that damned thing scared her half to death – she’d concealed back at the house. She had considered hiding the money there too, but she was too anxious about it, too reluctant to be parted from it, to do that. If she got stopped by the Bill, the money would be hard enough to explain, but the Magnum would be impossible. She didn’t want to fall foul of the law, but it was sort of nice to know it was there, just in case.
Alice was still staring out of the window. Lily wondered if the woman was even aware that someone else was in the room. She cleared her throat. She had a prickly feeling that the nurse was listening out there in the hall somewhere, worried in case anyone upset her patient and earned her a verbal kicking from the suits in charge.
‘You remember me, don’t you?’ she tried. ‘I’m Lily. And…and you knew Leo.’
At the word ‘Leo’, Alice blinked.
Lily leaned forward in the chair and said the name again, more softly. ‘Leo.’
Another blink.
‘Do you remember him, Alice? Leo King?’
Lily felt excitement building in her gut. Although Alice’s expression hadn’t changed, she thought that maybe she did remember Leo. And now she wanted to ask more, much more, such as, Did you blow my husband’s brains out, did you flip and kill him and let me take the rap for it, you stupid cow?
‘Look,’ said Lily, and she dug out the snap of Leo that she had lifted from the study while searching for the key to the master suite – Leo in his prime, taken on a Lanzarote golf course, Leo wearing white golfing gloves and a sun visor, his five-iron held casually over one meaty shoulder, Nick and some of the other guys there too, all grinning in the sunshine. She held the snap out to Alice, pointing out Leo among the group. ‘See that, Alice? That’s Leo.’
Alice extended one bony hand and took hold of the photo. She stared at it. Then she clasped it to her chest.
What Alice did next was the last thing Lily expected. She opened her mouth wide – she looked like one of those crazy-golf clowns, scary wide-open red mouths painted on hardboard around a gaping black hole. Lily had time to think that; the ones that swallow your ball and look like they would swallow you too, given half a chance – and then Alice started to scream like a fire bell.
Lily almost fell off her chair.
‘Holy fuck!’ she gasped out, while Alice just went on screaming.
Instantly the nurse was back.
‘What happened?’ she demanded, running to Alice. ‘What did you say?’
‘I just…’ Lily was almost in shock. The noise, the freaking noise the woman was making, it was deafening.
The nurse was shaking Alice’s shoulder. ‘Alice?’ she was shouting. ‘Alice?’
Suddenly, just as abruptly as she had begun, Alice stopped screaming. Instead she started to cry, great wracking childlike tears, turning in her chair and clutching at the front of the nurse’s mint-green uniform, pouring snot and salt water all down the front of it.
‘There, there, Alice. There, there,’ cooed the nurse. She turned suspicious eyes on Lily. ‘She hasn’t done anything like this before. Not in ten years.’
Well maybe it’s time she did, thought Lily. Maybe this was a watershed for Alice Blunt. Maybe the sight of Leo would pull her out of the strange state she was in.
Lily stood up. ‘Look, I’m sorry if I upset her.’
The nurse’s eyes softened, just a little. ‘That’s okay. I’m sure you didn’t mean to.’
‘I hate to ask, but Alice’s relatives – could they get in touch with me?’ she asked. ‘It’s just…I’d like to know what happened to Alice, if they can fill in the blanks? When I knew her she was so different. I’d like to talk to them, if they’re agreeable. Could I give you my phone number, and could you ask them to call me?’
The nurse was staring at Lily. Assessing her. Finally, reluctantly, she nodded. ‘Yes, okay’
.’ Lily stood up, gathered up her backpack. The nurse found a pad and pencil and noted down The Fort’s number with a promise to get one of Alice’s relations to call. Lily left the poor sad shell of Alice Blunt sitting there, clutching the nurse, as a child would clutch a mother. She didn’t ask Alice to give back the photo; she didn’t think Alice would.
24
Lily got a shock when she dived into The Fort’s indoor pool that afternoon and the water hit her like an ice pick straight between the eyes. Freezing! Whose bright idea had it been to turn the pool heating off? Did Oli like swimming in cold water?
Lily didn’t. She remembered very well that Leo hadn’t, either. He had always kept the indoor house pool at subtropical temperatures, with steam rising off the surface. Leo had loved the heat, the sun, the warmth. Hated the outdoor pool, even though that was heated too. Not hot enough. Too fucking cold.
Shivering, Lily briskly swam a length. She was wearing a borrowed one-piece swimsuit – navy blue, very boring and a couple of sizes too big for her – that she’d found in the changing cubicle at the far end of the pool. They’d always kept a small selection of swimwear in there for visiting guests attending Leo’s famous parties…Jesus, the parties they’d had in this house, way back when. Dancing and drinking and diving into the pool in full evening gear, big shoulder pads on all the women’s dresses, mullet hairstyles, Duran Duran and Spandau Ballet blaring out of the sound system, the laughs they’d had – all those bad boys doing their dodgy deals and discussing their moody goods; all the sparkling, glammed-up girls…
And of course thinking about the laughs made Lily think about the tears, too. And how empty those days had really been – oh, filled up with shopping and manicures and spa breaks, but still empty at the core. Empty and unhappy.
She pushed those thoughts away, because thoughts of losing Leo had prompted other thoughts, thoughts of Alice Blunt sitting there in a chair day in day out, speechless, dead-eyed. And then, those unearthly screams. Shuddering, she swam another brisk length: what the hell, it was cold, but it was a pool, her pool, and the sheer luxury of it almost overwhelmed her. She’d had nothing like this, nothing nice, nothing worth a monkey’s fuck really, for twelve long years. She had a lot of catching up to do. In terms of living. And in terms of making peace with her daughters. And she knew that that would only be truly po
ssible if she could find out who had really killed Leo.
Not Alice Blunt, surely. Alice had looked so frail, and that frailty had seemed bone-deep, not merely a result of illness, depression, whatever the hell it was fashionable to call it these days. Lily hoped the relatives would take the opportunity of phoning her, talking to her.
She wanted to know more about Alice. Even though it still – stupidly, she did realize that – stung a bit, to think of Leo shagging half the female population. Not only Alice, but also Adrienne. Not only them, but a woman called Reba Stuart. Jack had phoned again and said they were going to pay this ‘Reba’ a visit, was that what she wanted?
‘Only I know you were upset after seeing Alice,’ he said. ‘You sure you want to go on with this? You can bail out any time, you know. You don’t have anything to prove.’
‘Except my innocence,’ Lily replied stonily, going on the defensive because he was right, seeing Alice had upset her, and she hated that he had taken note of it. ‘And who the fuck are you, my father?’
‘Hey, I’m just saying…’
‘Don’t just say. I’m paying you, okay? I don’t need a nursemaid, I just need you to do your job, all right?’
There was silence on the other end of the phone. Then Jack said: ‘All right. Fine,’ and hung up.
She’d hurt his feelings. She knew it, and regretted it. She was getting to like Jack, and to depend on him. But liking and dependency were weaknesses she could not afford. She had to keep strong.
In actual fact, she would rather have had her arse rubbed with a brick than pay a visit to another of Leo’s tarts. But she had to do it; there was no way around it. So yes, she was going to meet Reba Stuart tonight. What a treat.
So cold in here.
She swam another length, then another, and warmed up just a little but not enough. She was going to tweak that heat up later on, make it nice and toasty-warm for tomorrow’s swim. To hell with being stone-cold.
She was making for the steps at one end of the pool, ready to get out, get a hot drink down her, when she saw that Si was standing there, silent, patient, and waiting for her.
A fizzing thrill of panic rippled all the way from Lily’s head to her toes. It settled in her chest, clutching at her heart.
Fuck it, where did he come from?
Instantly she thought of her rucksack, stowed away for now in the changing cubicle with a hundred thousand pounds tucked inside. Safe. A damned sight safer than she was right now. Si the spider had emerged and she was a tiny fly. Damn it, she should have pushed forward to get the locks changed the minute after they’d gone yesterday, but Oli had been upset, doubtful – and she hadn’t wanted to push her too fast.
Now, she could see that her error was going to cost her dear.
Si was there, watching her, smiling, his usual dark bespoke suit covering his bulk. In his hand he was holding the long pole with the net on it, used by the pool man to fish debris from the surface of the outdoor pool, when leaves and insects got blown in.
Lily kicked hard for the side but he moved and was there, waiting for her. Si gave a little smile. Then he put the net end of the pole against her breastbone and pushed her back into the cold water.
‘No,’ he said, ‘just stay there.’
Stay here and I’ll bloody well freeze, thought Lily, feeling a deep shiver course through her body, clamping her teeth together to stop them chattering with the cold and the sudden fear.
‘I’m not very happy with you, Lily King,’ he said as Lily moved back into the centre of the pool.
‘Oh? Really?’ Lily forced out. She was trying to clamp down on her rising panic, keep calm, keep thinking. But it was hard. She made for the steps again, but again he moved, blocking her path out of the freezing water, pushing her firmly back with the pole.
‘Yeah, really. It’s not on, girl. Really it ain’t. You doing Leo. Turning up at the wedding and ruining Saz’s day. Pushing back in here, messing with Oli’s head. Showing Maeve up like that. Not on.’
Lily swam over to the other side of the pool. He was there.
Now she was really starting to panic. She found it hard to catch her breath, it was so cold in here. Doggedly she swam another length, trying to keep her body temperature up with exertion, and when she got to the far end, he was there, too. She couldn’t get out. He was going to keep her in here until she drowned.
‘I didn’t do Leo,’ said Lily, and now her teeth really were chattering.
‘Yeah you did,’ said Si calmly.
‘No, I didn’t. Someone else did it.’
‘Did they fuck. You did it.’
Lily made for the steps again – and this time Si came ankle-deep in the water with the pole, and this time he meant business. The end of the pole connected with her neck and she was abruptly submerged, forced under as he bore down on it.
The world was suddenly bubbling and blue-green and she was choking, swallowing mouthfuls of chlorine-laden water. Lily kicked back, away from him, and came up spluttering and gasping in the centre of the pool, her eyes stinging, her throat burning, shivers wracking her body.
Now Si had moved and was reaching towards her with the pole again; it struck her arm, not violently, but hard enough to knock her off balance. She realized that he was doing his best not to mark her; he wanted to make this look like accidental drowning. She fell sideways and was again under the water. She came back up, coughing, blinking, seeing him standing there watching her with that smug, triumphant half-smile on his face.
Bastard.
‘What’s going on?’ asked an anxious female voice.
Lily’s head whipped round. So did Si’s.
Oh thank Christ. It was Oli. She was walking towards Si, looking at Lily in the pool, looking at the pole in his hand. Her eyes were questioning, worried.
‘Oh, Lily was in a bit of difficulty,’ said Si smoothly. ‘Just helping her get to the side. Ain’t that right, Lil?’ And he turned and smiled at Lily with hatred in his eyes.
‘Sure,’ she said, cold through to the bone now, and frightened too, scared shitless in fact.
Now he held the pole out to her.
Lily ignored it. She swam to the steps and hurried up them. She snatched up a towel from one of the loungers and wrapped it round herself quickly. Then she turned and looked at Si, and at Oli standing there uncertainly, frowning. Oli knew something had happened here. She knew, even if her face clearly said that she didn’t want to believe the truth of it.
Lily could almost hear Oli thinking: Jesus, was he trying to push her under with that thing? She thought that Oli knew the answer to that, in her gut. And if Oli hadn’t shown up, he’d have done the job and the verdict would have been accidental drowning.
‘People shouldn’t swim on their own,’ Si was saying to both of them, and now he looked genial, completely convincing. ‘It’s not safe.’
You can say that again, thought Lily.
She looked at Oli, still standing there with that frown on her face, and wondered what she thought of her kind Uncle Si now.
25
‘Blonde joke,’ said Lily as she walked along the shops up West with a reluctant Oli in tow the following day. ‘What do you call a fly buzzing inside a dumb blonde’s head?’
Oli looked at her, perplexed. Then she sighed. ‘Okay, what?’
‘A space invader.’
Oli almost cracked a smile. Almost. She’d been subdued ever since she’d come across Lily and Si in the swimming pool room yesterday. Lily had a feeling there were about a thousand questions queuing up in Oli’s brain, all waiting to be asked.
She looked at her youngest daughter, thinking again how gorgeous she was, and how young, how vulnerable. Her heart twisted with pity for all that Oli had suffered, but she was going to make damned sure someone paid – in blood – for that.
Lily had suggested this shopping trip. What they called a bonding session, and where better to ‘bond’, she’d said to Oli earlier, than in ‘Bond’ Street?
‘Shopping’s so inane,’ said Oli. ‘And very un-PC, think of the credit crunch.’
Fuck the credit crunch. Lily had been reading the papers, she knew all about the banks crashing and shares plummeting through the floor. But she’d been undergoing her very own personal credit crunch for the past twelve years; she had come out of nick dressed in shit order, jeans and t-shirt and a sodding hoodie and trainers, and she had always been a dressed-up sort of woman, her style had always been classic and classy. Well, now she was going to restart her life. Reclaim her style. And she was starting today.
Where to begin?
She was like a kid all of a sudden, staring at the sweeties in the shop window, and–oh thank you, Leo, thank you–now she could buy the entire fucking sweetshop, if she chose. They passed by De Beers and Cartier, Lily lingering and admiring, Oli silent and trudging along at her heels. It was busy; there were crowds of people, tourists, shoppers milling everywhere, black cabs honking up and down the street, traffic moving at a snail’s pace. It was great. Lily looked around her and soaked it all up, the smells of coffee and bread baking, the exhaust fumes, everything–she felt newborn. And the people–black, Asian, pale-skinned English, all going about their lives, all free. Unaware of what a luxury that freedom was. There was an Oriental man moving ahead of them, crossing the street, talking on a mobile phone, his blue-black hair pulled back tight into a ponytail. She loved it all.
They went into Chanel, Miu Miu and DKNY Jeans, then took a leisurely hike through Armani–oh, Lily loved Armani, but Christ her hair was a dreadful mess, she could see it in all the mirrors: chopped about, flattened, pale blonde flecked through with–oh fuck–the odd wiry grey hair. The sheer beauty of the clothes and accessories she was trying out showed up her own deficiencies. Bad hair, tick. Bad nails, oh yes indeed. Hard, calloused feet, too.