Donaldson was only guessing that Charles took her clothes and disposed of them. But he reckoned that Charles had led the kind of life where he’d often had to get rid of incriminating evidence, and would know the safest way of doing it.
Sandra advised her client that she didn’t have to say anything if she didn’t wish to, but Belle didn’t appear to take that in for she suddenly erupted with rage.
‘That bastard, after all I’ve been through for him,’ she screamed. ‘He lost all our money, he forced me to go cap in hand to Jackie and move to that Godforsaken place that I hated. Me, running a guest house! Why should I be expected to clean up after people, cook them breakfast, listen to their endless complaints? Have you got any idea how demeaning that is?’
Belle glared at the two policemen. ‘And what did his nibs do? He was off at the golf club all the time! I even covered up for him when he killed a kid in his car and wasn’t man enough to stay and face the music. But now he’s told on me!’
Sandra’s jaw dropped, Donaldson and Price looked at each other in shocked surprise.
Donaldson recovered first. He certainly hadn’t expected that either one of the Howells would ever admit to that crime. ‘That must have been terrible for you, Belle,’ he said in feigned sympathy. ‘Jackie was badly hurt too, wasn’t she? And Barney was as good as your nephew.’
‘We all loved him, he was the sweetest little boy,’ Belle sobbed. ‘If he hadn’t been killed I could have got Jackie to give us money to go and live in Spain or somewhere, instead she punished us by making us stay in Scotland.’
‘So are you saying she always knew it was Charles driving the other car?’ Price butted in.
‘Well, of course she did,’ Belle snapped at him. ‘Who wouldn’t know Charles in his flash car, driving like a maniac? She was going to tell the police, but I talked her out of it. It wouldn’t bring Barney back and I’d be all alone while Charles was in prison.’
‘But we have it on record that he was in London at the time,’ Donaldson said. ‘He flew back the following day, the airline confirmed that.’
Belle gave him a withering look as if astounded he didn’t realize how resourceful her husband could be when he was in trouble. ‘He had been in London for almost a week before, but he was on his way home when he had the accident. He turned around and drove straight back to London, the cowardly bastard. He even had the blasted cheek to fly back and act like he was distraught at Barney’s death, when all the time his car was having the dents repaired.’
Donaldson looked at Sandra, expecting her to bring the interview to a halt for the day. But she shrugged, the cold expression on her face telling him she thought it advisable for all concerned that he went on and got a complete confession.
‘So Barney’s death soured your relationship with your sister?’ Donaldson asked.
‘She acted like we were dirt beneath her feet,’ Belle said and began to cry. ‘She had all the sympathy for that whore Laura, but not for us. Laura got to spend the following summer in Italy, and when she came back Jackie helped her get that crummy shop, but what did I get? Nothing, that’s what! Just criticism because I didn’t have many guests, or that I spoke to them too sharply. Jackie was lording it up out at her place, coining it in hand over fist with all her properties, everyone adoring her, and I’m stuck with Charles off playing golf, chatting up women and making an arse of himself. I had nothing and no one.’
Donaldson could hardly believe that anyone could be so unappreciative of all her sister had done for her, so lacking in compassion and so utterly self-centred. He wondered if she was actually mad, for surely no one sane could see others the way she did.
‘How about you tell us what brought things to a head with your sister?’ Sandra suggested.
Belle folded her arms and her expression was belligerent, Donaldson sighed inwardly, expecting that she would clam up now. But to his surprise she didn’t.
‘I went out to the farm two or three weeks before Christmas,’ she began.
‘Was that Christmas of ’92?’ Price asked, so it would be on record.
‘Yes,’ Belle agreed. ‘I was so tired of it all, of Charles out all the time, of the guests, having no friends, everything.’
She leaned back in her chair and lit another cigarette, half closed her eyes and as she began to speak, they all realized she was reliving those events.
It was around four in the afternoon and already dark when Belle drove up the drive to Brodie Farm. But as she turned into the yard it was like suddenly entering Santa’s grotto. There were Christmas lights around all the windows of the guest cottages, a holly wreath on each of the doors, and more lights on the evergreen shrubs in planters either side of the farmhouse door.
Belle gritted her teeth, irritated to be once again reminded that her older sister had the energy and enthusiasm she lacked to make things special for her guests. Yet at the same time it seemed like a good omen, for Jackie had always loved Christmas, and it was the time when she was usually at her most amenable.
It was freezing cold, and Belle turned up the collar of her mink coat as she walked to Jackie’s door. She glanced through the kitchen window before knocking, and saw her sister sitting at the table wrapping up presents, surrounded by reels of coloured ribbon and rolls of paper. The kitchen looked festive with coloured lights strung along the dresser shelves, and she’d even hung some Chinese lanterns shaped like comic turkeys from the old beams.
Belle tapped on the window and Jackie waved and beckoned for her to come in.
Jackie wasn’t drunk, but she’d clearly had a couple of drinks, and she had a Christmas tape of Johnny Mathis playing. She giggled and said she hoped Belle wouldn’t tell anyone what she listened to, or she’d lose all credibility.
She teased Belle too for wearing a mink coat. She said she should have sold it years ago before it became politically incorrect to own one. Then she poured her sister a glass of red wine, and asked what had brought her round.
‘I can’t go on like this,’ Belle burst out. ‘I hate Scotland. I hate you despising us because Charles killed Barney, and I want out.’
Jackie stared at her as if she were speaking a foreign language. She was wearing a Fair Isle sweater and jeans tucked into long green boots. Belle thought Fair Isle sweaters were an abomination, but even she had to admit that Jackie looked lovely in it with her tousled curls showering down on to her shoulders. ‘Well, go then,’ she said eventually. Just tell me when and I’ll get someone in to run Kirkmay until I can decide what to do with it.’
‘You don’t mind then?’ Belle asked.
‘Why should I?’ Jackie shrugged. ‘Let’s face it, you aren’t making a success of the place, there is no return on my investment either. Go with my blessing. I’ll be glad not to have to see Charles around. Where are you planning to go? Back to London?’
‘We aren’t sure yet,’ Belle said, feeling just a little flustered because it had been so easy. ‘It depends.’
‘On what? Whether you can drag Charles away from the golf club?’ Jackie laughed.
‘No. On how much you can give us,’ Belle replied.
Jackie stood up and leaned against the Aga rail. She folded her arms, something she always did when she anticipated trouble. ‘Run that past me again! I don’t think I heard it quite right. You want me to pay you to leave here?’
‘Well, we haven’t got any money,’ Belle shrugged. ‘You know that.’
‘Yes I do, because you spend every penny you get,’ Jackie said. ‘Kirkmay could make you an excellent living if you lived within your means, but I see that once again you’ve been to the hairdresser’s, are wearing new boots, and I suspect that’s a new outfit under the old coat. I reckon that little lot alone came to something like three hundred pounds.’
‘I have to look nice. I’ve got an image to uphold.’
Jackie spluttered with derisive laughter. ‘An image to uphold! Your image around here is that you are a toffee-nosed Londoner who doesn’t give a toss whet
her anyone stays at her guest house. No one would take any notice if you were suddenly to appear in a floral pinny and a headscarf over your hair rollers. In fact I think they’d prefer that!’
They argued for some time, but Jackie remained adamant she wasn’t helping out any more. She wasn’t nasty, but very firm. She said if they wanted to leave that was fine, but they’d have to finance it themselves.
The phone rang and Jackie went upstairs to answer it, giving Belle the idea it was a man friend calling. As Jackie went up the stairs she called back down asking Belle to make a pot of tea.
As Belle got the teapot off the dresser, she saw the document lying there, half covered by a biscuit tin. She could see the name Laura Brannigan, and curiosity made her pull it out to see what it was about.
As she read it she felt as though she’d been kicked in the stomach, for it was a deed of gift. Jackie was giving the farm away to Laura! As she stood there in the Christmassy kitchen, she couldn’t believe her sister could do this to her.
A mere friend was to get a property worth at least £150,000, but Jackie was refusing to give her a paltry few thousand when she desperately needed it.
She went to the bottom of the stairs and listened to what Jackie was saying. ‘I must go,’ she heard. ‘Belle’s downstairs on the scrounge again. But don’t despair, my growling one. We’ll soon be away from all the bloodsuckers, together, for ever.’
Belle had to leave then because she knew that if she stayed she might hit Jackie.
∗
All over Christmas and New Year she stayed right away. She found presents from Jackie on her doorstep on Christmas Eve, but no apologetic note, no offer to reconsider. Belle didn’t take a present to her because if she had she might have blurted out what she’d seen and heard.
Charles took the view that Jackie was gifting the property to Laura as a tax dodge. He didn’t think there was any reason for Belle to get worked up about anything because if Jackie was going off somewhere with a man she probably intended to sell Kirkmay House, and she’d have to pay them to get out.
But Belle didn’t believe Charles, and all through January and February she became more and more wound up. It was so cold, and without any guests booking to stay they had no money either, and to add insult to injury, she often saw Jackie park her car opposite her house. Sometimes Laura was with her and she would watch from her window as they walked along to the restaurant on Marketgate. Their arms would be linked, heads close together as they chatted and laughed, and it seemed to Belle they were talking and laughing about her.
Then in March Jackie came to the house to see Belle.
‘This has gone on long enough, Belle,’ she said. ‘Let me come in, it’s cold out here. I need to talk to you.’
She sat there in the kitchen dressed in a sheepskin coat and matching hat which Belle could tell cost a small fortune, and she offered her £2,000 to leave Kirkmay because she was going to sell it.
‘You can take whatever furniture you need from here too,’ she said. ‘But you must leave the curtains and carpets as I shall be including them in the sale.’
‘But that’s not enough to live on,’ Belle said in horror.
‘It isn’t intended to be,’ Jackie said airily. You and Charles will have to get jobs like everyone else does. But it’s enough for advance rent on a small flat.’
Belle protested but Jackie was adamant. ‘Look, Belle, I bailed you out when you were in trouble. I got you this place, I paid for the furniture and soft furnishings and let you have a free hand. But you’ve never worked at it. I really thought Barney’s death might sober you two up, that’s the only reason I didn’t shop Charles. But he’s still driving his car drunk as a lord, and you, Belle, have become still greedier and lazier. That’s my offer, and in my view it’s a very generous one.’
‘Wouldn’t you have been angry if your own sister treated you that way?’ Belle looked from Donaldson to Price and then to her lawyer.
Donaldson was too stunned by her selfishness to reply. A glance at both his colleagues revealed that they were equally nonplussed.
‘Where could we go with only two thousand pounds?’ Belle continued, not even aware they hadn’t answered her question. ‘Did she expect us to live in a council house?’
‘So, Belle, that was in March of ’93,’ Donaldson said. ‘What happened on 12 May, two months later?’
‘I phoned Jackie that morning, she’d been getting at me constantly to leave ever since March. I wanted her to come round to my place to talk. I couldn’t go to her because my car was in the garage. She was really sharp with me and said if I wanted to see her I could walk round. Well, I wasn’t going to do that, it’s about three miles, so as the Langdons’ car was there, and the keys, I used that.
‘Her nastiness about me walking was what set me off,’ Belle mused.
∗
She was fuming as she drove the short distance. Jackie was always saying she was lazy and that if she walked more she wouldn’t have such a fat arse. But she had to see Jackie, and try again to get more money out of her. She couldn’t bear to spend another summer in Scotland.
Jackie was on her knees sorting out a kitchen cupboard when she got there. She was wearing jeans and a white shirt, and the sight of her small, pert bottom annoyed Belle even more.
Jackie didn’t even get up. ‘If this is a plea for more dosh, save your breath,’ she said, hardly bothering to take her head out of the cupboard. ‘In a matter of months I’ll be moving on myself, and I need what little cash I’ve got.’
‘If you’re moving on then you’ll be selling this place, that’s surely more than enough for anyone,’ Belle said. She didn’t want to admit she knew about the document giving it to Laura.
‘I won’t be selling it, I’m going to give it away to Laura.’ Jackie stood up, then and smirked. ‘I was going to do it at Christmas, but for various reasons I thought I’d wait a while longer. Now is the right time. I always did say I was either going to spend what I’d got or give it away. This is the start of it.’
‘You can’t give a property like this to that slag,’ Belle said indignantly.
‘Don’t you dare call her a slag.’ Jackie took a threatening step towards her. ‘She is my best friend and she’s never asked a thing of me, unlike you who’s always whining for more. Charles killed her son, or have you forgotten that? It nearly destroyed her, and me. I can’t give her Barney back, but I sure as hell can give her this place if I want to.’
‘You’d help her, but not me? How can you do that to your own sister?’ Belle grabbed Jackie’s arm pleadingly. ‘I know you hate Charles, I’ll leave him if that’s what you want, he’s the one that caused all the problems, the one that spends the money, not me.’
‘You’d sell your own mother for a few quid,’ Jackie snarled at her. ‘That day when I was in hospital and I said I knew it was Charles driving, you pleaded with me to keep quiet about it. You insisted you loved him, that you’d fall apart without him. Later you both promised that you would turn over a new leaf, work hard, stop drinking and acting like you were millionaires. And I stupidly believed you would. What a fool I was to believe either of you could feel remorse!’
‘It was all him, not me,’ Belle said wildly.
‘I betrayed my best friend by not seeing her son’s killer brought to justice,’ Jackie roared at her. ‘And you, Belle, are so bloody wrapped up in yourself that you can’t see what that does to me. Get out now, out of my life for good. I shall instruct my solicitor today to draw up papers to get you evicted from my property. And I’m withdrawing the offer of two thousand. You’ll get nothing.’
She caught hold of Belle and pushed her to the front door. ‘And furthermore, if you try to hang on here I’ll contact the police and tell them Charles was the hit-and-run driver,’ she yelled after her.
Belle got back in the car and drove out of the yard and down the drive, but before she got to the road, she stopped, got out of the car and walked back. She and Jackie had had ro
ws just as bitter as this one, and Jackie was always sorry a few minutes later.
She fully expected to look through the kitchen window and see her sobbing with her head on the table.
But she wasn’t in the kitchen, though Belle could hear her voice. Realizing her sister was sitting on the stairs to use the phone, Belle tiptoed up to the partly open front door and listened.
‘Just come over, Laura,’ Jackie was pleading, her voice breaking as she cried. ‘I can’t explain on the phone, it’s too difficult. I need you.’
Belle left then. She ran back to the car and drove back home.
The moment she got indoors she poured herself a drink to steady her nerves. But they wouldn’t steady. She knew what Laura would do when Jackie blurted out about who had been driving the car that killed Barney. She wouldn’t wait for the police, she’d be round here in minutes to tear the place apart, and Belle with it. Logic wouldn’t come into it, that it was Charles who did the killing, not his wife. All Laura would see was that she twisted Jackie’s arm to keep quiet.
She had another drink, then another, and all the time she was watching the clock and imagining Laura driving out towards Fife. But as the drink went down, fear took second place to jealousy. Jackie loved Laura far more than she did her, and she was going to give her the farm.
Belle had loved Laura too, right from when she was a little girl, all through her teens to her early twenties. Laura was the one who had time for her, a real big sister, not like Jackie who dismissed her as being just a kid. She bought her lovely presents, she would spend ages curling her hair, take her to the cinema, swimming and roller skating. Even when Barney was born she was still the same. Belle could remember going round to see her in Chelsea, and Laura always had time to listen to her news, commiserate about boyfriends who let her down, and she’d give her a hug and a few pounds and tell her that she was beautiful.
When Laura ran away from Gregory, Belle missed her very much. She’d been used to going to the Chelsea house whenever she felt lonely, and she could talk to Laura so much more easily than to Jackie, or even her mother.
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