House of Correction

by French, Nicci

  Now Rob Coombe turned so that only the back of his head showed. Tabitha briefly saw her own face, wretched with exhaustion, and behind her the driver. She watched to see if she spoke, said the words that were part of the evidence against her – but then Rob stood in front of her and she and the driver disappeared from view.

  Tabitha tried to put herself back there, in her shapeless clothes and pyjama bottoms, heavy with wretchedness, the sleety rain falling outside. She imagined herself saying, ‘Stuart Rees is such a bastard’: was that how it was? Or: ‘That Stuart, he’s a right bastard.’ Or even, ‘I could tell you a thing or two about Stuart Rees; what a bastard…’ It didn’t feel right, but then nothing felt right. Or was it the farmer turning to her, his face suffused with anger, and saying, ‘That bastard Stuart Rees.’ She held all the versions in her mind for a moment and then let them go.

  Rob Coombe left with a newspaper and cigarettes; Tabitha noted the time. The two girls left, presumably to get on the bus. She herself bought milk; she saw her lips moving, her hand proffering coins, her bundled-up figure leaving; she wrote down the exact time: 08.15.09. The bus driver also bought cigarettes and some kind of chocolate bar, then he too exited. The camera looked once more at nothing.

  Tabitha went back to the exterior disc, picking up at the point where she had left off. She watched the bus pull up, the driver go into the shop, then Rob Coombe leave and get in his car. She watched herself come out of the shop, clutching her small carton of milk and her head down against the hard wind. She watched herself disappear behind the bus. She watched the driver come out. She waited for about thirty seconds. Then she watched the bus leave, sliding out of view leaving the bus stop deserted. And now the camera gazed serenely at nothing again and the branches quivered in the wind that was blowing from the sea.

  She watched as a few flakes of snow fell before turning once more to sleety rain.

  She watched as nothing happened, just the little counter at the top of the screen ticking past the seconds and the minutes. She inserted the second disc, 9-10am. She thought of fast-forwarding until there was something to look at, but it was oddly hypnotic to be staring at the screen as if she were back there, back in the day that had undone her life. So she just gazed at the tarmac and the bus stop and the cliff and the leafless birch. A bird in its branches and then gone. A large cat strolling past.

  At 09.29.43 a small car drove by, coming from Stuart and Tabitha’s end of Okeham. That would be Laura Rees. She jotted down the time.

  At 09.39.27 a white van pulled up near to the bus stop and a man got out, thickset and with a hat pulled low over his forehead, a scarf wrapped around the lower part of his face. He went into the shop and came out carrying a paper and a bag of crisps. For a moment, Tabitha couldn’t think who he was, then she remembered: the delivery man who had been the last person to see Stuart alive. Or at least, she corrected herself, the last person who had seen Stuart alive apart from the killer.

  He got back in his van and drove off in the direction of Stuart’s house.

  Tabitha waited as the little timer counted off the minutes. At 09.55.17 he was back, parking his white van in the same place and walking to the right of the camera. For a moment she was confused, then she remembered the little café to the side of the shop that she’d been told was crammed with people in the summer, and served scones and ice cream and coffee and walnut cake, but stood largely empty most of the winter. Perhaps he had been going in there. Something snagged in her brain and she tried to hold on to it, but it was gone.

  Now she was on disc three, 10–11am. Not long into it, the familiar figure of Dr Mallon sped past the camera, bony bare legs and head up in spite of the weather.

  At 10.10.19 two young women pushed two buggies into view. Tabitha recognised them: they were twin sisters who lived in the village and were married to men who looked rather similar to each other, and who both had small children. She made a note that they too had been in the village after the tree had fallen, and looked back at the screen in time to see both toddlers raising their heads and pointing at something in the sky. One of the mothers disappeared into the shop while the other guarded the buggies. She was rubbing her hands together to keep them warm. Then the little group left.

  Tabitha was starting to feel a bit dazed with staring at the grainy images, but then Andy was on her screen. He was wearing his work clothes and carrying a large canvas bag. He walked towards the shop; the time clicked past; a couple of minutes later he was there again, turning to the right.

  Dr Mallon dashed past in the other direction. Tabitha noted the time: barely enough to reach Stuart and Tabitha’s houses and the solid cliff beyond, however fast he had run. She remembered that he had mentioned seeing her, when she had been agitated and incoherent. It must have been in between these two times. Again, she put herself back there, in the windy coldness, salt on her skin. She would have been swimming at the cove, her hair would have been wet and her fingers numbed. What had she said to him? What had he said to her? She thought she remembered seeing him, but it was like a memory groped at in thick fog, retreating as she reached out for it.

  At just gone 10.20am, the vicar and her dog, a golden retriever called Sukie, were on the screen. Mel sat Sukie on the pavement, wagged her finger at her to stay still, and went into the shop. She came out holding her paper, and met Shona, well wrapped up in a quilted jacket and mittens and wearing wellington boots. Tabitha watched as the two women walked out of sight in the direction of Tabitha’s house, Sukie between them, talking. Almost immediately, Shona came back and went into the shop. A few minutes after, the vicar and her dog walked by. That was what people did in villages, Tabitha thought: they took their dog for a walk, or themselves.

  Tabitha wrote all the times down. She knew what must come next and sure enough, at 10.34.33 a grey car drove past the camera. Stuart.

  And at 10.40.22 it returned. She needed to concentrate because it was between now and half past three in the afternoon that he was murdered. She stood up and jumped up and down a few times, then sat once more.

  The delivery man came out and sat in his van. Nothing happened. No car drove past – but then it wouldn’t because the tree was down and so the only place they would be driving to was Tabitha’s house or Stuart’s. No other person walked past.

  The 11am–12pm disc showed nothing, except Mel walking past with her dog, and the delivery man getting out of his van, wandering off in the direction of Tabitha’s house and returning a couple of minutes later.

  * * *

  Tabitha went to the door and opened it. Mary Guy was sitting on a chair outside, legs stretched out, chewing gum and staring straight ahead.

  ‘I need the toilet,’ said Tabitha. ‘And some water.’

  Mary Guy pointed. Tabitha used the lavatory and drank some water from the tap. What she really wanted was a large mug of coffee but she didn’t think the warder was going to stir herself. She must have been watching footage for nearly four hours. What had she learned that she didn’t already know?

  She went back to her position and sat hunched forward, staring at blankness with her fingers pressed to her temples and willing herself to stay alert.

  At 1.05pm, the delivery man got out of his car. He no longer wore his hat and his scarf and Tabitha caught a glimpse of his face. He didn’t look impatient, just resigned. He went into the shop, or the café, and stayed there.

  At 13.19.38 Shona went into the shop. The interior disc showed her buying a packet of crisps and a can of Coke. She was wearing different clothes: a woollen coat and ankle boots. What had she done that day, when she was stuck in Okeham?

  At 13.33.01 Rob Coombe went into the shop. The interior disc showed him buying sandwiches.

  Tabitha frowned. He had dropped his daughter off at the school bus at ten past eight and driven off, but the tree hadn’t come down till after half past nine. Why had he stayed in Okeham? Everyone else – the vicar, Shona, Andy, Dr Mallon, the twin sisters, Luke, Terry herself – lived there, b
ut Rob’s farm was above the village. Where had he been all that time? She scribbled a note to herself and returned to the CCTV.

  The door opened quietly and the librarian tiptoed in, carrying a mug of coffee and a plate with two shortbread biscuits on it. She put it down in front of Tabitha.

  ‘Thank you!’

  ‘You’re welcome,’ Galia said in an exaggerated whisper, and tiptoed out once more.

  Tabitha took a gulp of coffee, then another. She had a large bite of the biscuit. The light was fading; the white bark of the birch glowed in the dusk. Snow began to fall once more, melting on the road, quickly turning back into rain. And then a thin figure with a rucksack on his back sloped past. She rewound; he shot backwards; she pressed play and there he came again. Luke Rees entering the village at 1.57.49. It matched what he had told her.

  She watched as the vicar, in a waterproof jacket, came into the camera’s view, and went out again. A few minutes later she reappeared. Mel’s day seemed to be made up of walking up and down the village, with Sukie or without. Then she realised that this was when Mel said she had come across Tabitha in great distress. She paused the machine and sat staring at the frozen image of the vicar. Mel said she had talked about the news: specifically, the reported sighting of a drone at Gatwick Airport that had stopped all flights arriving or departing from the airport. That rang a bell. Yet something was wrong with it as well, though she couldn’t think what it was.

  She finished her coffee and her biscuits with the static image in front of her. A few minutes later she pressed ‘play’ again. Nothing, nothing, nothing. Then, at 15.34.44, Laura’s car went past the camera on her way home, meaning the fallen tree was cleared. Sure enough, the delivery man got into his van and drove away.

  At that point, the afternoon became like a mirror image of the morning. For now the school bus drew up and when it drove off there were the children on the pavement, jostling each other, kicking water up from the puddles, in high spirits for they were on holiday for Christmas. A different boy stared out of the central window.

  There came Rob Coombe collecting his daughter.

  And now, now it was 16.24.12 and Andy walked past the camera in the rain, still in his work clothes and carrying his canvas bag. On his way to Tabitha’s. She felt sick and she bent over for a few moments, squeezing her eyes shut.

  She should turn the DVD player off now, she thought. Nothing that came next was relevant. Stuart was dead; soon Andy would be knocking at her door; soon he would step out into the backyard and reaching down, find the body. But she kept on watching.

  The police car came first, lights flashing in the gathering darkness. Then the ambulance. Then another police car.

  Only minutes later the vicar could be seen striding purposefully towards the shop. Then Shona, almost running. The twin sisters with their buggies. Their husbands, home from work and keen to be in on the action. That man in his wheelchair whose name she couldn’t remember. Pauline Leavitt, amazingly quick on her feet for a woman who usually leaned on a cane. Everyone arriving because something was going on and they were gathering like flies around a carcass.

  In spite of herself, Tabitha inserted the interior disc and fast-forwarded to see them all inside. The little shop was crammed with excited people. It was like a party in there: a murder party.

  She ejected the disc and sat back. Her head was pounding and her mouth was dry. She didn’t want to look at the police car coming back with her sitting inside it. She waited for a long time, and then she got up and knocked at the door. Mary Guy opened it. She was still chewing gum.

  ‘I’m done here.’

  THIRTY-FIVE

  Tabitha hadn’t had lunch but she didn’t want supper. The sight and smell of Dana’s minced beef and mashed potatoes turned her stomach. She thought of biting into a crisp, sour apple, or eating toast with a scraping of Marmite on it; drinking a large mug of tea – from her blue mug, she thought, which she had bought in Spain ten years ago. She wanted, she needed, to be somewhere far from the press of people. She imagined herself by the sea, miles from anywhere and not even a boat on the horizon, just the wash of waves over pebbles, the urgent call of the gulls, the bitter wind scouring her face.

  ‘What are you writing?’ asked Dana.

  Tabitha looked up. ‘A new timeline,’ she answered.

  ‘Timeline of what?’

  ‘Of the day the murder took place.’

  ‘Can I see?’

  Tabitha made room for her on the bed and they both looked at what she had done. Dana’s lips moved as she read.

  6.30 (approx): Wake up. Lie there for some time (how long?). Not feeling good.

  7.30 (approx.): Get up. Start making porridge and tea. No milk.

  08.11.44: Go into village shop to buy milk. In PJ bottoms and wellies. Rob Coombe and daughter. Also, two girls, bus driver and Terry – witnesses?

  08.15.09: Leave shop in direction of home.

  09.29.43: Laura’s car drives out of village.

  09.39.27: Delivery man goes into village shop, then leaves again. Drives off in direction of Stuart’s house.

  09.55.17: Delivery man returns (last person to see Stuart?).

  ???am: Go for swim. Meet Dr Mallon.

  10.09.14: Owen Mallon runs past, in direction of Stuart’s house.

  10.10.19: Twins and their toddlers arrive at village shop.

  10.19.35: Owen Mallon runs back in other direction.

  10.22.51: Mel goes into shop then out again.

  10.23.46: Shona talks to vicar outside shop; walk towards Stuart’s house together.

  10.25.20: Shona back and goes into shop.

  10.30.32: Mel walks past.

  10.34.33: Stuart drives out of village in his car.

  10.40.22: Stuart drives back again in direction of house (blocked by fallen tree).

  13.19.38: Shona to village shop.

  13.33.01: Rob Coombe to village shop.

  13.57.49: Luke arrives in village. Climbs over tree (workmen there). Walks to his house.

  14.31.13: Vicar walks past. (Says she met me at this time and we talked about news.)

  15.34.44: Laura returns. (Says Luke at home and no sign of Stuart.)

  16.24.12: Andy on his way to my house.

  16.30: Andy arrives at mine. Discovers body.

  ‘I don’t get it,’ said Dana after she had studied it. ‘Why do you need to put in the seconds as well as the minutes?’

  ‘I don’t,’ said Tabitha. ‘It just makes me feel a bit better. Everything’s such a mess; this makes it seem less messy. As far as I can see,’ she continued, staring gloomily at what she had written, ‘I’ve learned nothing that can help me. It’s exactly like the police said. Except—’ She stopped.

  ‘Except?’

  ‘I don’t know. I have this ridiculous feeling that if I think hard enough I’ll find something I’m missing.’ She shook her head. ‘I’m just kidding myself.’

  And anyway, she thought, as she used the lavatory, brushed her teeth, pulled on her night things and climbed into her narrow bed, maybe the police were right but her memory was withholding from her. Perhaps she knew but didn’t want to know, couldn’t bring herself to remember, and all the time, as she had watched people come and go on the CCTV footage, the Tabitha she used to be was crouched out of sight in her tumbledown house, waiting with a knife in her hand for Stuart to come to her door.

  * * *

  Tabitha slept and had a chaotic dream. Then she woke with a small, clear thought. Owen Mallon hadn’t been able to pinpoint what time he had met Tabitha that morning after her swim, but he had said that their conversation was drowned out by the noise of helicopters. In her mind, she spooled through the CCTV: those two children in their buggies had both pointed up into the sky. It must have been then. Most probably it meant nothing, but she should remember to write that on the timeline tomorrow.

  She couldn’t go back to sleep. There had been something else. She rummaged around in the corners of her memory and couldn’t
find it. Above her Dana whimpered and turned over. Tabitha could hear the rain falling outside. April showers. It came to her that she had to write her defence statement by May. What even was a defence statement? And what was her defence? ‘I can’t remember doing it. I can’t remember anything. It must have been someone else, someone who was stuck in the village as well…’ She went over the names: Rob Coombe, Luke, Dr Mallon, Mel the vicar, Shona, Andy… She needed to talk to Laura again, to Shona. She needed to see Owen Mallon. She lay with her eyes open, staring into the darkness, and the little timer in her head ticked on.

  THIRTY-SIX

  Tabitha was in a hurry when she almost bumped into Ingrid on the landing. She tried to move past, but Ingrid started talking about a girl who had slashed her wrists.

  ‘She was taken to hospital,’ she said. ‘That’s when you know it’s bad. When they take them to hospital they have to fill out a proper report, it goes on the record. If they can fix them up here, they can fudge it.’

  ‘You’re a cynic,’ said Tabitha.

  ‘Just realistic.’

  Tabitha started to move away. ‘I’ve got to go. I’ve got a visitor.’

  ‘I’ve been meaning to talk to you,’ said Ingrid, almost physically preventing Tabitha from moving past her. Tabitha shifted uneasily. Laura was her visitor. Tabitha had been almost startled when she agreed to come back. The idea of being late and that Laura might leave was nearly unbearable.

  ‘We can talk later,’ said Tabitha.

  ‘I might not be here later. I’m having my hearing.’

  ‘That’s good, isn’t it? You might be getting parole.’

  ‘I hope so.’

  ‘But they won’t let you out right away, will they?’

  ‘No, but they’ll move me to an open prison.’ Ingrid gave a faint smile. ‘To prepare me for life back in the real world.’