by Chris Curran
Rosie
Rosie made some coffee and they drank it in the kitchen, holding hands across the table. After a while she said: ‘What are you going to do?’
He shook his head. ‘There’s nothing I can do. I told them we were going to France and they didn’t object. Just want me to give a DNA sample before I leave.’
‘Are you happy to do that?’
He gave a weak smile and drank some coffee. ‘I don’t have much choice.’
Rosie wondered if he would prefer not to know for sure if poor Lily Marsden had been his daughter. It seemed so cruel to force him to confront that now, but, of course, he must be a suspect in her killing too.
He swallowed the rest of his coffee and stood up. ‘But we have to go on with our lives and stay cheerful for Fay’s sake. This is something she will never need to know about.’
If she was your daughter that means she was also Fay’s sister. It was the first time Rosie had thought of that and it brought a painful lump into her throat.
Oliver was speaking. ‘I’ll go to the shop for some nice food to have on the boat. We’ve had great times on the old girl, so let’s give her a decent send-off. Before that, I’m meeting the chap who’s interested in buying her. It’ll be good to focus on other things.’
The house felt very quiet once he’d gone. The only sound was the screech of seagulls wheeling across the cloudless blue outside. As Rosie began sorting some laundry for them to take to France, she picked up the TV control, then put it down.
When the phone rang she jumped. The caller ID told her it was her mother. But it wasn’t Marion.
‘It’s your dad, Rosemary, please don’t hang up.’ He was whispering.
‘What’s wrong?’
‘We’ve just had the police back but this time they only wanted to talk to your mother. I’m not too good, so I’m in bed and I couldn’t hear what they said, but it seems to have upset Mum a lot. She’s sure they’re going to arrest her and she’s in a terrible state. Can you come over, darling, please?’
What could she say? She rang Oliver. ‘Will you meet Fay from school? Take her down to the boat and I’ll get to you as soon as I can.’
‘Can’t it wait, we mustn’t miss the tide?’
‘I’m sorry, I won’t be long.’
Loretta
Pearl had won more prizes than anyone else in the school, or so it seemed, but it was clear she was also popular with the other kids, and Loretta felt a swell of pride just looking at her.
As they filed out of the hall Dex came up to them. He hadn’t won anything, but he looked pleased with himself. ‘Mr Browning just said I’m gonna be first choice goalie in the football team next year.’
‘That’s wonderful, love.’ Loretta reached out for him, but she’d spoken too loudly and he stepped away, pulling a face. ‘It’s only school, Mum, not a trial for Man U.’
Willard patted his back. ‘Well done.’
Pearl erupted from the hall, grinning, surrounded by giggling friends, all glad to be getting off at lunchtime because it was the last day of term. But when Loretta and Will had cuddled her and told her she’d done brilliantly, she looked awkward. ‘I know we were going to have lunch together, but this lot are off to the pizza place. Dex can come too. Give you a bit of time on your own.’
Will laughed and handed her some money. ‘No need to pretend it’s for our benefit – off you go.’
As they walked away Loretta saw one of the boys link his arm with Pearl’s and whisper to her. She wished she’d looked at him more closely.
‘It’s just us then. What about a drink?’ Will said. ‘Celebrate our brilliant kids.’
Loretta’s phone vibrated in her pocket and, when she took it out, Will gave a short laugh.
‘Might have known.’
Raj didn’t sound as cool as usual. ‘I’m at Hannah’s and they’re not in. I can’t raise either of them on the phone either. I’ve told Davis, but he doesn’t seem bothered. What do you think?’
She took a step or two away. ‘You told her about Mrs Pritchard looking for her?’
‘Not exactly, but we’d been talking about Natalie’s mother trying to find her and then I asked about Mrs Pritchard. She probably guessed.’
‘Keep trying their phones. If she’s with Joe, she should be all right.’
At the pub, she asked for a tonic water and Will raised his eyebrows. ‘I might have to go back on duty,’ she said.
Will was looking at her in that way he had, head to one side. ‘The kids are going to be all right, you know. Pearl’s great and the boyfriend, Ben, seems a nice lad.’
‘Is that the one she was with today? She never mentioned him to me.’
‘It’s a recent development, and you haven’t been around that much lately, but I doubt it’s serious. And Dex – I’m hoping we’re over the worst with him.’
Loretta’s hand went to her pocket, but it wasn’t her mobile, just a hint of music burbling out from a speaker in the corner. ‘Thanks for holding the fort, Will, I’m really grateful.’
‘Well,’ he leaned back in his chair, still with that look, ‘it’s been good having the kids for company and keeping myself busy in the evenings. I gather Pearl told you that Sandra and I have called it a day?’
Loretta looked into her drink. ‘Kind of. I’m sorry.’
‘Probably for the best. It was never a big romance. Not like us, eh?’ He was laughing, eyebrows raised and she had no idea what he expected her to say.
He touched her hand. ‘It’s all right. I understand what it’s like when a case gets under your skin. It happens to me with most of my clients.’
‘I should have guessed Hannah was suicidal earlier on. Should have kept a better watch on her.’ She kept her voice low. She never normally talked to Will about her work, but everyone knew about Hannah trying to kill herself and it was a relief to admit how she felt.
Will gave her arm a little squeeze, looking into her eyes. ‘If – God forbid – anything bad was to happen to Pearl or Dex, I’d want someone just like you there to support us. Believe it or not I’m proud of you. So is Pearl and, when he’s a bit more mature, Dex will be too.’
Loretta had to swallow before she could get out a gruff, ‘Thanks, Will. I’m probably getting too close. Keep thinking how I’d feel if it was one of our kids.’
He smiled. ‘Nothing wrong with that,’ he said. ‘We did good with them.’
Her phone began to play, and he laughed. ‘Saved by the bell,’ he said. Whatever that meant.
‘Raj?’
‘Yeah. I just got hold of Joe. He is with Hannah and says they’re fine. He sounds OK. They won’t be home for a while. So, I’m heading back to the station.’
After Raj hung up, Loretta sat holding the phone against her cheek. It didn’t feel right. She tried Joe’s phone and when there was no reply she sent him a text.
Just checking all’s OK. Where are you?
She put the mobile on the table in front of her.
Will looked at it then tapped the menu. ‘I get the feeling you might not be ordering any food.’
‘I’m not that hungry.’
A text came through from Joe:
We’re fine. I’m driving Hannah down to talk to some people. I think that will make her feel better.
Whether he intended to or not, Joe was telling her what was going on. Hannah must have guessed the woman who had come looking for her was Mrs Pritchard. She had to be heading for Bexhill. Loretta shoved the phone into her pocket and was already on her feet. ‘I’m sorry, Will, I’ve got to go.’
Joe
Joe had left his dark glasses at home. He pulled down the sun visor but it didn’t help, his eyes were still dazzled. He was driving carefully because of the glare, but also because they shouldn’t be doing this. Raj had called his mobile a couple of times and when they stopped for petrol Joe had phoned him to say they were fine. But while he was paying he’d had a text from Loretta too. He had been tempted to call her and tell her ex
actly what was happening. Instead, he sent a text that might, if she was really concerned, be enough to let her know where they were going. Now he felt bad, as if he’d betrayed Hannah.
She’d hardly spoken since they’d left home but he was tired of being patient. ‘When are you going to tell me what this is all about?’ he said.
Hannah’s voice was slow and soft, as if she was thinking aloud. ‘I need to see Oliver.’
Joe gripped the wheel tighter. ‘What about Mrs Pritchard?’
‘Her too, but Oliver first.’
The car slowed as they reached a bottleneck, where a stream of traffic was joining from a slip road. Joe lowered his window and let one arm dangle in the breeze, although it was no cooler outside. ‘Why him first? We think she came looking for you.’
‘Because he knows what happened.’
‘I thought you didn’t tell him.’
‘Not about the baby, but he knew about Alice. That it was me, I mean.’
They were stationary and Joe pulled on the handbrake, his palm sticky. He looked at her. ‘Let me get this straight. You’re saying this Oliver has known all along that you killed Alice and he let her dad go to prison for it.’
‘Yes, he helped me. It was wrong, but we were both so young and I begged him.’
For a moment Joe couldn’t speak, then: ‘I can’t get my head round this, Hannah. You’ll have to spell it out for me.’
And she told him.
Fifteen years ago
Natalie is sixteen and pregnant. Her mum’s going to throw her out and she’s so scared she can’t think straight. All the way out to Sedlescombe Village on the bus she’s been telling herself that Mrs Pritchard will think of something. Suggest something that will make it all better. She knows that’s stupid, but she has to hope to stop herself wanting to die.
When she gets to the house there’s no answer, but Mrs Pritchard might be in the garden. She goes round to the gate at the back. She’s never been in the garden, just seen it from the house, and it’s bigger than she thought. There are lots of trees and bushes, but she can see that the French windows to the living room are open. Loud music is coming through them. It doesn’t sound like Mrs Pritchard’s kind of music, but she’s more likely to be in the kitchen on the other side of the hall. The living room looks empty so she goes in and heads for the door.
Just as she gets there, it opens. Alice, holding a mug. Alice’s face freezes and she pushes past and stalks over to the mantelpiece to put her coffee down. ‘What the fuck are you doing here?’
‘I came to see your mum.’
Alice tosses her head. ‘It’s Mrs Pritchard to you, and she’s not here. So, piss off.’
But Alice is such a bitch she’s probably lying. Natalie takes a step towards the hall. ‘I’ll wait in the kitchen.’
Alice grabs her arm. ‘Oh no, you don’t. If you’re looking for sympathy or money, you can forget it. It’s nothing to do with us. Why don’t you talk to Oliver’s rich parents instead?’
Natalie takes a step back. ‘What’s Oliver got to do with it?’
‘It’s his little bastard, of course. Oh, I can’t wait to tell everyone. And don’t think I’ll let Dad help you either. Now fuck off out of here.’
Alice shoves Natalie, hard, towards the French doors and that’s when it happens. Natalie pushes her back. And one push is all it takes. Alice overbalances, her arms flailing, trying to grab something that isn’t there. Natalie reaches out for her, but it’s no good. Alice’s head hits the mantelpiece and she crumples to the floor.
And stays still and silent.
Natalie closes her eyes, telling herself that, when she opens them again, Alice will be sitting up, laughing at her. But she isn’t, and Natalie turns and runs.
She is across the road, standing among a clump of trees before she knows what’s happening, shaking and crying. ‘Oh God, oh God.’ She knows she shouldn’t have run away: that she should go back and check on Alice and call an ambulance, get help. Instead, she rings Oliver. He’ll know what she should do. ‘I had a fight with Alice. I hurt her?’
He tells her to calm down. ‘Where are you?’
‘Across the road. I’m scared to go back. Will you come and check she’s all right?’
He tells her to keep out of sight and wait.
He doesn’t live far away, but he seems to take ages as she stands trying to control herself, to look normal. And at last he’s there, holding her to him.
When she tells him what happened and that she left Alice lying there not moving, he smiles, takes her face in his hands, and says it can’t be that bad. They know what Alice Pritchard is like. She’ll be showing off, as usual, pretending she’s more hurt than she is.
He tells her to go home. He’ll check on Alice and phone later to let her know it’s all right.
* * *
A hoot from the car behind brought Joe jolting back fifteen years. Hannah had her hand over her mouth holding back the horror, just as she must have done all those years ago.
‘But it wasn’t all right. Alice was dead,’ she said.
Rosie
Rosie rang the bell once, then rang again. Pressed and held for a minute then knocked four or five times. As she fumbled in her bag for her spare key, her hands were shaking. ‘Mum?’ Nothing. The place was deadly quiet. A half-eaten sandwich and a glass, with the dregs of some dark liquid, sat on the bookcase. The big table by the window held a couple of mugs, a tea pot, and an open newspaper. A crumpled cloth hung on the back of a chair. She could never remember her mother leaving even one cup unwashed. This was all wrong. And there was a smell, part medicinal, part stale food and part something else – she sniffed the glass – part brandy. ‘Mum?’
‘In here.’ It was her dad’s voice, cracked and weak, coming from the smaller bedroom. He pulled himself up on his pillow as she opened the door. He looked awful, seemed to have lost weight since she’d seen him last. He needed a shave and the T-shirt he was wearing had a stain on the front. His arms were so scrawny the mottled skin hung from his bones.
She swallowed and stood holding the door. ‘Where is she?’
‘I’m so worried, Rosemary.’ His voice was a husky whisper and she moved closer. ‘She must have gone when I fell asleep. She’s been getting more and more upset. Keeps saying she’ll never see you or Fay again. Even today, after she called you, she said she didn’t think you’d really come tomorrow and, if you did, you wouldn’t bring Fay. Then the police arrived …’ He rattled out a gust of sour air and leaned back, his fingers pressed to his breast bone, eyes closed.
She sat on the bed. ‘What did they say?’
When he opened them, his eyes were thick with clouds. ‘I don’t know, but she was beside herself. Said it was history repeating itself, except now it was her who was going to be locked up. I think she went to look for you and Fay. I’m so afraid for her, Rosemary. Afraid of what she might do.’ His voice ran out, replaced by a stutter of wheezing breaths.
Rosie forced herself to be strong; to think. ‘The boat, then. Fay told her we’d be there. If she’s looking for us she’ll have gone to the boat.’ She tried Oliver’s phone, but there was no reply. ‘I’ll go and find her.’
‘Rosemary?’ His hand on hers was cold and dry. ‘I’m so, so sorry. All this time I thought … Please forgive me, my darling.’ He was looking into her eyes and, finally, with a sickening lurch deep inside, she saw the truth. He had been so pathetic about defending himself because he was trying to protect Rosie. He thought it could have been her. That she killed Alice.
She clutched the end of the bed fighting to catch her breath. Not sure if she wanted to ask him how he could have believed it for one moment or if she wanted to fall into his arms and thank him for giving up his life for her.
She shook her head. This wasn’t the time. Mum needed her.
At the bedroom door, she turned back and he raised a shaking hand. ‘Thank you, darling. Please look after her. It’s my fault, I know. I should never have come ba
ck.’
Loretta
Heading for Bexhill, Loretta kept thinking of the time Hannah nearly killed herself. The signs had all been there. She should have been more alert and she couldn’t make the same mistake again. Even before Will mentioned it, she’d been thinking more and more about how she’d feel if someone hurt Pearl or Dex. Very unprofessional, but she couldn’t help it. That was the problem with the FLO job, of course, and she had been warned about the danger of getting too close to these people.
But what must it be like to lose your child and to know that the killer might get away with it? That was how Joe must be feeling, and Hannah too, because she didn’t kill Lily, Loretta was convinced of that. And Marion Pritchard, what about her? How had she felt all these years?
Hannah could have been thinking the same thoughts and it made sense that she would have wanted to go back down there to Mrs Pritchard, and her old boyfriend. Loretta hadn’t told Raj anything. It was her day off and no one need know if this was a wild goose chase. But she didn’t think it would be. And she had the feeling that she had no time to lose.
Rosie
Rosie called Oliver from outside the flat, but got no reply. Then she tried her mum – nothing. As she drove down to Rye, the sun was low in the sky making it difficult to see and she kept taking her dark glasses off and then putting them on again. It was warm, but the air conditioning made her shiver. She rolled down her window, then had to endure the road noise, the hoots from the other cars and the seagulls’ screeches. As she waited at the traffic lights, her hand went to her hair and she scratched her head till it hurt. Come on, come on.
She didn’t have time to think about what had happened with her dad, but the thoughts kept circling in her head. He had made such a mess of his story when Alice died, not just because he wanted to keep the woman he was having an affair with out of it, but because he thought Rosie might have killed her sister.
It made sense too. All that quibbling about how long it had been between the time Rosie got home and when he arrived back. He wanted to make sure the police didn’t think there had been time for her to kill Alice.