by Chris Curran
‘And that last day? You’re sure Lily didn’t say anything about her father?’
Samuel chewed his thumbnail. ‘I can’t remember exactly. See, I’d just told her I was going away and wasn’t allowed to see her anymore. I was so upset and she was really angry with me. Said I should just leave The Children, but I’ve got nowhere else to go.’ His eyes were glassy.
‘Then, you don’t know if she was actually going to meet him that day, if she’d already met him, or if she was still just hoping to see him at some point in the future?’
‘That’s what the police keep asking me, but I don’t know. She might even have been making it all up, to show me she didn’t need me.’ He scrubbed at his eyes, then looked directly at Joe. ‘But surely they could just find the dad and talk to him? Her mum must have told them who he is. There’s no point in keeping that a secret now is there?’
As he walked back to the hospital, hands deep in his pockets, staring at the pavement, Joe wished he could have put Samuel straight. Instead, he’d just told him that the police were keeping what they knew close to their chests and he wasn’t allowed to ask Hannah anything to do with the case. Letting the boy imagine she had told them about the father. The truth was, she didn’t seem to care about anything anymore. Even about finding Lily’s killer. Wouldn’t talk about it at all, according to Loretta. And the doctors thought she was still likely to try and kill herself. It just didn’t make sense.
He was thinking hard as he reached the ward, but when he glanced through the glass partition his breath caught. Hannah lay back in her armchair, eyes closed, face pale as death, and Loretta was leaning forward holding her hands. Something was wrong.
He made a move, but Loretta turned and shook her head. Then, thank God, Hannah opened her eyes and looked at him: looked at him properly for the first time in ages. After a few words, Loretta released Hannah’s hands, giving them a tiny pat, and came over to him. Her brown eyes were gentle.
‘She wants to talk to you, Joe.’ She squeezed his arm.
It was the oddest feeling. He was walking towards the chair where Hannah sat, her eyes closed once more, and yet it was as if something was pulling him back, telling him to stay away.
He sat where Loretta had been and Hannah opened her eyes but, when he reached for her hands, she shook her head and squeezed her arms across her chest. ‘No, Joe, don’t.’
‘What is it, Hannah, love?’
Her eyes were closed again and her mouth twitched. ‘They say I was confused about Alice. That I must have hit her more than once, but made myself forget. They wouldn’t have made that up, would they? Something like that?’
He glanced over at Loretta and shook his head. ‘I don’t know.’
As always, lately, her eyes were misty, although with tears or from all the drugs he didn’t know. She was talking again and looking at him, but he couldn’t tell if she could really see him.
‘I never read about it, you see. Wouldn’t watch the news for ages afterwards and couldn’t face that TV programme they made about it.’
She was twisting her fingers together, but he reached over and touched her arm to try to calm her. Speaking softly. ‘It was a long time ago. It doesn’t matter now.’
She wasn’t listening. ‘I’ve been thinking about Lily. What if I made myself forget that?’ Those fingers kept twisting and pulling at each other. ‘I was so frightened, you see. If she found her real dad it would all come out. I begged her to leave it, but she wouldn’t.’
He moved back in his chair and looked at Loretta standing by the glass partition. Her fingers were pressed to her mouth. Hannah brushed his hand and he made himself meet her eyes.
‘Oh, Joe,’ she said. ‘They think I killed our Lily. I was so sure I didn’t – I couldn’t have – but now it’s all so cloudy and confused.’
He felt suddenly very cold. ‘What are you saying?’
‘Maybe I’m mad, Joe, maybe I’ve always been mad. And, if I am, then it might be true. I could have killed our Lily.’
‘Don’t be silly. You know you didn’t.’ He heard his own words, but was not aware of saying them, as he stared not at Hannah, but at Loretta. He’d begun to trust her, but what ideas had she been putting into Hannah’s head?
By the time he looked back at Hannah her eyes were closed and, when he said her name, she didn’t respond.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Rosie
Oliver had been away for work overnight and Rosie couldn’t face telling him about the police visit on the phone. So, she had arranged for Fay to have a sleepover with one of her friends. She had to talk to Oliver now, or she would go mad.
At least he seemed more cheerful when he got in, giving her a kiss and looking around for Fay.
‘She’s sleeping at Lucy’s,’ Rosie said. ‘Let’s have a drink, shall we?’ She tried to keep her voice steady.
‘I need a quick shower first,’ he said.
She made herself a strong gin and tonic and stood looking out into the garden. It was still only July, but she already seemed to feel a hint of autumn in the air.
‘OK, where’s that drink?’
She jumped. Oliver, in a dressing gown, his feet bare, leaning against the fridge. The ice dispenser rattled as he filled a glass.
‘It should really be champagne, but vodka’ll have to do.’ He was smiling and raising the glass as he turned, and her heart sank. He had something to tell her.
‘Champagne on a Friday?’ She was suddenly very tired and sat at the table, taking a big swallow of her drink.
Oliver sat opposite, his eyes gleaming. ‘I’ve had a bust-up with old Ferguson, told him to stick his job.’
‘What?’
‘I know, but before you go mad, just listen. He actually apologized for giving me all the crap work. Told me I was an asset to the firm.’ He took a long pull of his vodka, but as Rosie went to speak, he raised his hand. ‘Wait a minute, that’s not the half of it. He agreed to let me take a sabbatical. I can use all my holiday entitlement, and as much extra as I want, unpaid, to think it over. So that will give me plenty of time to sort things out in France. Doubt I’ll need to go back after that.’
She didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t even think about his plans. Everything at the moment seemed unreal. But he was waiting for her to speak. ‘Unpaid? Is that practical?’
‘Oh, it won’t come to that, and the house we can borrow is available whenever we want it. Just have to let the woman who looks after it know when we’ll arrive.’
It had to be now. ‘Look, Oliver, before we go any further, I need to tell you something.’
He was suddenly out of his seat, making her jump again. He came behind her to rest his head on her shoulder, his voice warm in her ear. ‘Come on, don’t spoil it. It’ll be great. A whole new life for just the three of us.’ He pulled her round and knelt beside her, holding her face in his hands. ‘Please, darling, be happy. We can do this.’
She wanted so much to forget her wretched parents, to forget Alice and the whole sorry story and to join in with him wholeheartedly. But even as he moved to kiss her, she pulled back, covering his hands with her own and shaking her head. ‘I know, but I can’t go anywhere just yet. I’m sorry.’
He was still smiling, but he got up and went back to the vodka bottle. ‘I know that. I’m not talking about tomorrow, but next week, like we agreed.’ His back was to her. ‘I’ll book the tunnel for just after Fay’s term finishes. We don’t need to take much stuff this time. The place is fully furnished.’
‘I mean I can’t go at all until this thing with Dad is sorted out. Please, Oliver, sit down. There’s more I need to tell you.’
He turned, but stayed leaning against the fridge.
Rosie said, ‘I’m sorry, baby, but things have happened. The police have been to see me.’
‘What? Why?’ His hand was in his damp hair.
‘Please, Oliver, sit down so I can explain the whole thing.’
He sighed and dragged out a
chair, not opposite her this time, but at the other end of the table. ‘Go on.’
She stared at the ice melting in her glass. ‘The police asked us about this Natalie girl.’ She looked at him, but he was drinking, leaning back in his chair and staring into the garden. ‘Mum and Dad don’t want me to tell them anything and, so far, I haven’t. But I’m fed up with all this lying and these half-truths.’ She couldn’t read his expression. ‘I’ve found out some things that I didn’t know before. Apparently, Mum asked Natalie to the house and forgot to tell her she wouldn’t be home that weekend. That means, Natalie could have been there when Alice was killed.’
‘And they’ve told the police this, have they?’ he said.
‘No, and that’s what I want to talk to you about.’ As he took a gulp from his glass she resisted the urge to beg him not to drink too much. ‘If my parents won’t tell them, do you think I should?’
He shook his head. ‘You know what I think.’ His voice was hard. ‘You should keep out of it. Keep our family out of it. And you don’t really believe any of this crap, do you? I know you used to adore your father, but honestly, Rosie …’
Although she shouldn’t have been surprised, she found tears flooding her eyes and realized that all she wanted him to say was that he understood how she felt and would do anything to help her. They could work it out together. But he obviously thought she was a gullible idiot.
She couldn’t look at him and went over to the sink, picking up a tea towel and twisting it in her fingers. But when he spoke, after what seemed a long silence, his voice was gentle.
‘I’m sorry, Rosie, darling.’ She looked round to see him smiling his sweet smile. ‘I’m a selfish bastard, I know, but I just want us to be a normal family. You can understand that, surely?’
She pulled the towel through her fingers so hard it almost hurt – good, she deserved it. ‘I’m sorry too. So sorry you have to be mixed up in all this.’
‘Look, let’s agree to differ, shall we?’ he said. ‘You stay here until this mess is sorted out and I’ll take Fay to France next week and get things going over there. You’ll be better on your own anyway.’
There was a pain in her throat. She had planned to tell him about Natalie leaving with The Children of Light. Hoping he would say she was mad to consider, for even one moment, that there might be a connection with the Swindon murder. But he was right. It wasn’t fair to involve him.
She pulled up a chair next to him as he took another drink. ‘OK, yes, let’s do that. It won’t take long, I’m sure. And it’ll be good for Fay to have you to herself for a bit.’
As she leaned forward and kissed him, the ice in his drink made his lips feel very cold.
Loretta
Damn it. The Children of Light’s minibus was in the car park when Loretta got to the nick. Hannah had been released from hospital, and she’d agreed to come to the station to be interviewed under caution. Raj was driving her in, and Loretta had come ahead to check there was no reception committee waiting for them. They wanted to keep the papers ignorant of all this for as long as possible. She phoned Raj and told him to hang back.
Pastor Jerome stood beside the minibus talking to DS Davis. Loretta had always thought of Davis as tall and solid, but he was dwarfed by the bulk of Jerome.
She stayed in the car for a few minutes, pretending to fiddle with her radio, but it was no good, neither of them moved and they were looking over at her. Better face it. The pastor put on his usual condescending smirk as she approached.
‘Ah, Lorraine, my dear, we were just talking about you,’ he said.
She gritted her teeth and smiled back at him – don’t give him the satisfaction.
But Davis said: ‘It’s Constable Peterson, sir.’
The pastor’s smile didn’t change. ‘Ah, yes. Well, Constable, I was just telling your colleague here that I’ve lodged a complaint with the Chief Inspector about the way the lives of our brethren have been disrupted as you’ve attempted to soil my church’s reputation.’
Loretta stared at him – better to say nothing.
‘And I hold you responsible for many of these problems, Constable. Both Sister Clara and young Samuel have been traumatized by the way they’ve been hounded and persuaded to betray our rules, by you, and also by Mr Marsden.’
She couldn’t keep quiet. ‘Of course, you’re entitled to make a complaint if you feel aggrieved, but, as I said before, we are investigating the murder of a young girl here and your actions and lack of candour have served to delay some of our enquiries.’
The smile didn’t waver. ‘As for the adverse publicity that’s been spread about my organization, I’ll expect a full apology from your superiors and an assurance that those responsible are disciplined in an appropriate manner.’
Davis touched Loretta’s arm. ‘Like Constable Peterson says, sir, it’s your right to raise any concerns you have.’ He took a few steps towards the glass doors of the station before turning back with a smile. ‘Interesting idea, those confessions you get from your members. I’ve been talking to a couple of people who’ve since left the organization. Both of them still make regular, and substantial, donations to you, I gather.’
‘The strict rules we live by prove too much for some of the brethren, but they remain in tune with our aims and want to support our work.’
Davis moved back towards the pastor, looking up at him, his face hard. ‘So, if I talk to a few more ex-members, I’ll get the same story, will I? They all contribute willingly and the confessions have nothing to do with it?’
They stood facing each other for a long minute, as Loretta tried not to smile. When the pastor finally looked away Davis kept his gaze firm, jaw jutting out, until the other man began to walk towards his minibus. Davis’s mouth twitched. ‘Well, good to talk to you, sir.’
Loretta couldn’t resist it. ‘Have a nice day, sir.’
At the minibus, Jerome looked back, went to speak then changed his mind. They watched as he drove away, and when the bus disappeared round the corner she let out the hoot of laughter she’d been holding back.
‘Good one, Martin. I wouldn’t be surprised if that complaint gets withdrawn.’
‘He’s got a lot of influence and there may be nothing we can do, but Philips is all for looking into the group’s finances a bit more closely.’
‘It was great to see that smirk wiped off his face anyway.’
They were both laughing as they went into the station and, when Loretta looked up, she saw Maggie watching them, stony-faced. Loretta grinned at her. ‘Morning, Maggie.’
She looked back to see The Children of Light’s minibus leaving the car park and rang Raj. By the time she’d finished speaking, Davis was talking to a woman in a dark trouser suit who held out her hand to Loretta.
‘I’m Pamela Dimarco, Mrs Marsden’s solicitor.’ A few minutes later the doors behind them opened and they all looked round. ‘And here’s my client,’ she said.
Standing between Joe and Raj, Hannah looked even worse than she had in the hospital. Her face was blotchy and her hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail, the roots much lighter than the rest. It was difficult to believe that Loretta had once thought her an attractive woman. As the solicitor spoke to her, Hannah rubbed her mouth, arms still covered in light bandages, and turned vague eyes to Loretta.
‘Are they going to lock me up?’ she asked.
The solicitor said, ‘Of course not, this is just an interview and you’re free to leave whenever you want.’
Loretta moved forward. ‘I have explained that to Mrs and Mr Marsden.’
Joe put his hand on Hannah’s arm and she looked at him as if she’d forgotten he was there. ‘If you’ve changed your mind we can go home now,’ he said.
Hannah shook her head and tried to smile at him.
Davis had promised to keep a low profile, to let Loretta take the lead because she had Hannah’s trust. But she could tell he was getting impatient. He held open a door. ‘Shall we go in and sit down?
Make ourselves comfortable. You can wait over there, Mr Marsden.’
Joe kissed Hannah’s cheek, but she walked into the interview room without a glance at him. Raj had disappeared and Joe looked very lonely on the hard bench in the corridor. Loretta wondered what he was hoping Hannah would say.
Once the door was closed Davis did all the preliminary stuff: the caution, explaining about taping the interview and so on. The solicitor repeated that it was all voluntary; Hannah wasn’t under arrest and could leave if she wanted to. Loretta sat looking at Hannah, who stared into her lap, at her bandaged hands, circling her thumbs round and round each other, first one way and then the other.
As she waited, Loretta tried to look calm, hoping it might make her feel that way. She wasn’t at all sure what she hoped would come out of this. They certainly didn’t have enough to charge Hannah with anything. They couldn’t tie her with her daughter’s murder and, as for the old case, well, the man had confessed. They were doing what they could with Lily’s list of names and, of course, with the Pritchard family, but what they needed were some concrete details from Hannah and, ideally, a witness or two.
Davis was speaking. ‘Hello again, Mrs Marsden. Is it all right if I call you Hannah?’ He didn’t wait for her agreement. ‘That’s grand. Now you know Loretta, so she’s going to ask you a few questions. I’ll chip in now and then, if that’s all right.’
Hannah did nod this time and said a quiet, ‘Yes.’
‘OK,’ Loretta said. ‘Hannah, you told me and also Joe, in my hearing, that you might have killed your daughter, Lily. Is that right?’
The solicitor touched Hannah’s arm and whispered something to her, but Hannah pulled away and looked up. ‘Yes, but I didn’t. I wasn’t myself when I talked to you and Joe. I know I didn’t kill Lily.’
‘Why do you say that?’
‘Because I’ve remembered the whole day and I never saw her after she went to school. I stayed in the whole time.’