by Chris Curran
‘You can tell Loretta everything for a start. About the biological father, too, this Oliver guy, so they can talk to him. We don’t know for sure that Lily didn’t trace him after all.’
She nodded.
Joe’s bootlace had come undone and he stopped to retie it, but Hannah walked on so fast he had to hurry to catch her. When he reached her, she turned back to him, her face twisted.
‘The worst thing is, I can’t remember exactly what happened with Alice. I thought I did. I was sure it was an accident, but what the police said … That after she fell down, I hit her with a poker. How could I do something like that?’
‘You were scared, I suppose, or maybe hurt. If there was a fight, you could have banged your head as well. I don’t know, but it wasn’t you, it was Natalie. You’re not that person anymore.’ He reached for her, but she was gone, stumbling through the bracken.
At the place where Lily died, she stopped, pressing her palm against the tree trunk. She stared down at the crumble of dark earth around the roots, her face concentrated, thinking hard or listening to something. As if the sap in the tree’s heart was whispering to her. Then she walked away without looking back at him.
When they reached the car, a flash of black and white crossed their path: a single magpie. Joe put his arm round Hannah’s shoulder and squeezed. He knew what she was thinking. Whenever they saw a lone magpie before, when Lily was still with them, they always used to chorus that silly charm: ‘Good morning, sir, how’s your wife?’ It was meant to ward off bad luck.
Loretta
Loretta had tried to contact Davis as soon as she finished talking to Clara. When she couldn’t get through she headed to Hannah and Joe’s. She needed to talk to Hannah right away.
She couldn’t get an answer when she knocked on the door, so she sat in the car again and rang Raj. He said they were fine when he left. Then she managed to raise Davis, who sounded as if he was in a pub and not too happy about being disturbed. But she told him what Clara had said about Natalie’s mother coming to The Children and his voice changed. ‘Right, we’d better get someone round to see the mother ASAP. What did Hannah have to say about it?’
She could see Hannah and Joe’s car in her mirror, pulling into the street. ‘Clara only just rang, I’ll let you know.’
Once they were in the house and sitting in the living room, Joe made the inevitable mugs of tea. Loretta left it a few minutes, hoping to catch Hannah unawares, but before she could speak Joe took Hannah’s hand and said, ‘We’ve had a talk and there’s something you need to know.’
Hannah swallowed a gulp of tea. ‘Lily’s real dad was a boy from the village where Mr and Mrs Pritchard and Alice lived. He wasn’t on that list of Lily’s. His name was Oliver Weatherall.’
Joe spoke, as Loretta pulled out her notebook. ‘And Oliver Weatherall is married to Bernard Pritchard’s other daughter.’
Loretta scribbled the name in her notebook. This was more like it. Once she’d started speaking Hannah didn’t seem able to stop. She explained how she met Oliver. That it was a very short relationship and she had never told him she was pregnant. They had already broken up by then anyway. It was obviously a relief to get it all out in the open, although there was a hint of hysteria in her voice.
Joe must have noticed it too because he reminded Hannah that she must take her tablets. He brought her some water and waited while she swallowed them. Then went to sort out something for them to eat.
While he was in the kitchen, Hannah kept talking about her past. Not so much about Oliver, but about Mr and Mrs Pritchard. How good they were to her. How she had longed for parents like that. How their house was a paradise compared to her own home.
Although Loretta wasn’t sure if this was the right time, it couldn’t wait. ‘I wanted to ask you something else, Hannah. I gather your mother came to The Children of Light some months ago asking for your address – for Natalie Grant’s address – hoping to see her granddaughter.’
Hannah stared at her, shaking her head and letting out a quavering laugh. ‘Oh, no, no way. I haven’t seen my mother since I left Hastings, haven’t wanted to see her. And the feeling was mutual. She never stopped telling me I was the biggest mistake she ever made. Said she’d put up with me for sixteen years because she had no choice and I wasn’t going to saddle her with another squalling brat. There’s no chance she would come looking for me, or for Lily.’
Hannah denied having seen anyone from her old life since leaving Hastings; so, when Joe brought in some food, Loretta went into the hall to call Davis and tell him everything.
‘Do you believe her about the father?’ he said.
‘Yes, although she still seems very unstable.’
‘Well, let’s see what this Weatherall guy has to say for himself then.’
As she clicked to disconnect, Joe came into the hall.
He spoke quietly, even though the door to the living room was closed. ‘I’m really worried about her, Loretta. Earlier, when we were out walking, she seemed so much better. I thought she was finally coming to terms with it all, but since we got in she hasn’t seemed right.’
‘A bit manic, yes, I thought that too.’
‘I’m going to try to get her to bed now, but I’m scared of what she might do if I fall asleep.’
‘Would you like me to stay? I can doze on the sofa, but I’m a light sleeper and I’ll wake if she starts moving around.’
He offered to make up the spare room, but it was better to stay in the living room with the door open, where she could monitor the stairs.
She rang Will to say she definitely wouldn’t be back, spent an hour or so writing up her notes, then watched a bit of TV with the sound down.
Eventually, she slept in snatches, punctuated by dreams where she chased muggers who too often turned out to be Dexter.
When she woke to sunlight filtering through the curtains, Hannah and Joe were still in bed. She splashed her face with water, had a coffee, then called Raj and filled him in on last night.
He turned up soon afterwards.
‘Keep a careful eye on her today, will you?’ she said. ‘I think letting that all out was a bit much for her.’
He said, ‘Don’t worry. Now get yourself away. You’re wasting your day off.’
She glanced up the stairs as she left, but it was still quiet.
Rosie
It was Fay’s last day at school and, sitting at the breakfast bar, she insisted on wrapping the glittery bangle that she’d made Rosie buy for her teacher, before she had breakfast. As Oliver dipped a knife into the marmalade, Fay’s shiny paper touched the sticky rim of the jar. She threw down the strip of twisted Sellotape she was trying to attach. ‘Be careful, Daddy.’
Oliver waved his toast over the paper, dipping it closer and closer as she squealed at him to stop. ‘Why don’t you let me do it?’ he said.
‘All right.’
Rosie smiled as Oliver put his breakfast aside to wrap the present: he could always manage her so well. He’d already finished work and was taking Fay over to France in a couple of days. So, until then, Rosie was trying to keep her thoughts under control and focus on her daughter.
She filled a bowl with cereal and passed it to Fay as Oliver handed her the neatly wrapped parcel. Fay’s milky fingers made little circles on the paper but, thank goodness, she didn’t notice. They had no time for tantrums. ‘Eat up, sweetie, you don’t want to be late today.’
‘Did I tell you I’ve had a serious offer on the boat?’ Oliver said.
Fay dropped her spoon with a splash into her cereal bowl, her chin wobbling. ‘No, Daddy, you’re not going to sell the boat. I love it.’
Rosie made a face at him. Why mention that now?
‘We’re going to France, lovely girl,’ Oliver said ruffling Fay’s hair. ‘And we can buy a bigger and better one there.’
Fay shook his hand away, but picked up her spoon again and looked at Rosie. ‘Do we have to sell it?’
‘Well, we can’t use it if we’r
e in France, can we?’
‘OK.’ She took a huge mouthful of rice pops, spluttering the words through them. ‘But you promise we can have a new one?’
When Rosie smiled at Oliver – this is on you – he said: ‘Of course. You can choose it. And I tell you what, it’s going to be a gorgeous day today. Why don’t we take the old girl out for a final spin after school? I’ve got to go over there to show it to this chap, so I’ll stock up with some food on the way.’
He was trying to get things back to normal, and Rosie smiled at him as she screwed the lid shut on the marmalade jar.
‘Now hurry up, Fay, and get your school bag. We need to go.’ She put Fay’s lunch box in front of her and began to clear the breakfast bar.
The doorbell rang and Oliver got up to answer.
Fay was looking into the hall. ‘What’s that policeman want?’
A shudder inside. Rosie carefully closed the dishwasher door and leaned on it, grateful that she was facing the wall. ‘Nothing. You finish up.’
The door was still open and two uniformed men were standing half in and half out, letting a chill little breeze waft through. Rosie straightened her T-shirt and smoothed a hand over her hair.
Oliver reached out as she approached, curling his arm round her waist. ‘It’s OK,’ he said, smiling. ‘My wife knows all about it.’ He turned to her, his voice low. ‘The constable was asking about Natalie Grant and her baby. Apparently, she’s named me as the father.’
‘Oh.’ Rosie felt dizzy.
‘I’ve told him it’s possible, but I didn’t know anything about it until recently.’
They seemed to be waiting for her to speak. ‘Yes, that’s right.’
‘Could you spare a few minutes to talk to us now, sir? It is rather important.’
‘OK, but my wife was about to take our daughter to school.’
‘That’s fine. It’s just you we need to speak to.’
Oliver pointed to the office door. ‘Go in and sit down. I’ll be with you in a second.’ Without looking at Rosie he went over to Fay, lifted her from her stool and gave her a kiss. ‘Have a good day, sweetie, and see you after school.’ Then he put his arms round Rosie and whispered. ‘It’s OK. I’m fine.’
When the door closed behind him, the phone started ringing and Rosie grabbed it as Fay came running. ‘I’ve got it. You go up and brush your teeth.’
It was her mother. ‘I’m sorry, I can’t talk now,’ Rosie said.
Marion’s voice was thin; she sounded breathless. ‘Could you come over later on, darling? Your father’s taken a turn for the worse. A chest infection, but with his heart, they’re worried about him.’
‘I can’t today. Fay and Oliver are off to France at the end of the week and there’s so much to do.’
‘What about after school then? I really want to see her before she goes. And you needn’t worry, Dad will be in his room. She won’t see him if you don’t want her to.’
Fay, who had been hopping up and down by the stairs, called out: ‘Is that Nana? Can I say hello?’
Rosie passed the phone to her. ‘Just a quick hello and goodbye then.’
Fay listened for a moment then said: ‘No, sorry, Nana, we can’t come tonight. We’re having our tea on the boat.’
When she took the phone back Rosie promised to try and get to Bexhill tomorrow, but Marion obviously wasn’t happy and Rosie had the horrible feeling she might be crying again.
Loretta
The kids and Will had left for work and school when Loretta got home and she managed to catch a couple of hours sleep before her mobile rang: Davis.
He said: ‘East Sussex aren’t too happy about all this work we’re putting on them, but they’ve talked to the bloke Hannah claims is the real dad. He was a boyfriend, but hasn’t seen or heard from her since she left the area. He had no idea about the connection with Lily Marsden. Natalie’s mum says the same and claims she’s never been near Swindon.’
‘Well, Clara at The Children seemed pretty sure she was there asking after Natalie not long ago. Have we got a photo?’
‘Luckily there’s one on file, she’s well known to East Sussex – a drunk and an occasional prostitute, I gather. I’ve asked Raj to go and show it to Clara.’
‘Thanks for keeping me in the loop, Martin.’
She checked her watch. She had time before the prize-giving. Then rang Raj. ‘Where are you?’
‘On my way to The Children’s place.’
‘Look, would you mind if I talk to Clara? It was me she rang about the mum’s visit and she’s very wary. You can get back to Hannah and Joe.’
‘OK. I’ll send you the photo.’
Rosie
Oliver was still in the office when Rosie got back from dropping Fay at school, but there was no sign of the police and the door was open. He was sitting at the desk, but had swung the chair round to face the wall.
‘Oliver?’
When he twisted back, his face was so swollen she hardly knew it as his. He looked at her and his chest heaved. He was crying, silently, at first, but soon with tearing sobs. She wanted to run away, hide somewhere. Instead, she pulled a chair next to him and put her hand on his back, feeling the tremors as they racked through him. She could find nothing to say.
After a while he coughed and reached out blindly and she handed him a box of tissues. He blew his nose, wiped his eyes, then turned his laptop screen towards her. It showed a picture of Lily Marsden.
So, it was true. She couldn’t bear to imagine how he must be feeling. When he reached for her she held him, still unable to find any words.
‘They say that poor girl was my daughter. Can you believe it?’ His voice was a strangled whisper.
All she could say was, ‘I’m sorry.’
He didn’t seem to notice her lack of surprise, just stared at the picture. ‘They want to take DNA to prove I’m the father, so they say, but it must also be to check if I had anything to do with her death.’
She rubbed his hand. ‘But you didn’t even know she existed.’
He shook his head. ‘I told them that.’
Rosie sat back. She felt a wave of heat roll over her. ‘What did they say?’
‘Nothing. But I remembered what you said about the letters and Natalie …’ He swallowed on the word and his hand came up to pull at his mouth. ‘You said she might have had something to do with Alice’s death. They wanted to know if any of us had seen or heard from Natalie or her daughter.’
A deep breath. ‘Did you tell them about the letters?’
His blue eyes stretched wide as he looked at her. ‘No. Do you think I should have?’ He was squeezing her hand so tightly it almost hurt.
‘You were in shock. I think you were right not to say too much.’
A sound that might have been a laugh. ‘I don’t know why I’m asking you. I’m a solicitor. I should know what to do.’
She pulled her hand gently from his and reached up to touch his poor swollen face. ‘You don’t deal with this kind of thing, and even if you did it’s different when it comes close to home like this. And, my god, you’d only just learned you had a daughter and then to be told she’d been murdered. It’s no wonder you’re not thinking straight.’
Oliver shook his head. ‘Oh Rosie, I love you.’
Loretta
Clara came to the door, as usual, looking behind her into the house when she saw Loretta. She took the phone, squinted at the picture, then pulled out a pair of reading glasses. Shook her head. ‘No, that’s not the woman I saw.’
Loretta went back to the car and drove away, but halfway down the lane she stopped and took out her phone again, clicking on to the Internet. It was worth checking.
Back at the door she showed the new picture to Clara. ‘This is an old photo, but could it be her?’
‘Yes.’ Clara tapped the picture and nodded. ‘I’m pretty sure it is.’
After she’d thanked Clara, Loretta called Davis. ‘Clara didn’t recognize the photo you sent me,
but she did identify the woman she saw. It wasn’t Natalie’s mother at all. It was Marion Pritchard.’
Chapter Twenty-Five
Joe
Although Hannah had obviously not slept well – every time Joe woke he had been aware of her staring into the dark – she seemed better when she came down in the morning.
Joe felt himself relax a little. Last night must have been just a temporary relapse; but he was annoyed when Raj started asking her questions before she’d even finished a bowl of cornflakes.
‘I gather Loretta asked if you’d ever had any visitors from Hastings,’ he said. ‘Are you sure about that?’
‘Yes. I wrote to Mr Pritchard, but he never replied and I didn’t expect him to.’ She spoke evenly, with none of the feverish quality Joe had noticed last night, so he kept quiet.
‘What about Marion Pritchard, his wife. Any contact with her?’
‘I sent her one letter, that’s all.’
‘But you haven’t seen her? She’s never come here?’
She reached under the table for Joe’s hand. ‘No, I said, no one has.’
Raj went into the hall and they could hear him murmuring into his phone. Then he came in and said he had to go back to the station for a bit.
When he’d gone Hannah turned to Joe. ‘Let’s go for a drive.’
In the car he asked: ‘Where to?’
‘I need to go down there,’ she said. ‘Back to Hastings.’
Loretta
Loretta usually found ironing relaxing, but not today. As she pressed a pair of trousers and a shirt to wear to the school, she ignored creases that would never normally get past her. It was too hot to be using a steam iron, and she couldn’t stop worrying about Hannah. She emptied the water from the iron, put away the board, and the basket still full of crumpled washing and rang Raj. ‘Did Davis tell you about Marion Pritchard looking for Natalie Grant?’
‘Yes, and I asked Hannah, but she still says she hasn’t seen anyone from Hastings since she left and I believe her. I’m at the nick just now, but I’ll talk to her again later on. Don’t think I’ll get any more from her, though.’
Shit, look at the time. She said goodbye, dressed, dabbed on a bit of make-up and dashed out. Pearl would never forgive her if she was late.