Where the Memories Lie

by Sibel Hodge

  ‘Dad didn’t like her,’ Ethan muttered quietly.

  DI Spencer tilted his head. ‘Pardon?’

  ‘Dad didn’t like Katie,’ he repeated. ‘He thought she was trashy. He was glad when Chris saw sense and dumped her.’

  ‘He said that?’

  ‘No. Not in so many words. But I thought it was obvious.’

  ‘Did Tom and Jack have much to do with each other?’ DS Khan asked.

  ‘What? No way.’ Ethan frowned. ‘He thought Jack and Rose were even trashier.’

  ‘How was Katie’s state of mind before she disappeared?’ DI Spencer asked me. ‘Was she angry, happy, depressed?’

  ‘I’m not sure.’

  ‘You were her best friend, weren’t you?’

  I thought about how she’d changed her appearance following her break-up with Chris. How she’d avoided me and confined herself to her house. A house she usually hated with vehemence. Analysing it now, it was entirely possible she was suffering from depression. ‘Yes, but I hadn’t really seen her much for the six months before she left so I don’t know for certain. But now I think maybe she was depressed. The only thing I really know for certain is that she hated her parents and they didn’t get on, and apparently they wanted her to leave home, anyway.’

  DS Khan made more notes.

  ‘When was the last time you saw her?’ DI Spencer asked Nadia.

  ‘I don’t know. I wasn’t friends with her. Probably when Chris was still going out with her.’

  ‘How about you?’ he asked Ethan.

  He shrugged. ‘I haven’t got a clue.’

  ‘Has Tom Tate ever made any other confessions to you about crimes in the past?’ DI Spencer asked.

  ‘No, of course not!’ Ethan said.

  ‘Are you sure you don’t want something to drink?’ I asked them.

  ‘No, thanks.’ DI Spencer stood. ‘I think we’ve got enough for now.’

  DS Khan clicked the top of her pen closed and followed suit.

  ‘The scene of crime team will be here for a while longer, but we really need to go and speak to Mr Tate.’

  ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea,’ Ethan said. ‘He gets agitated and confused easily. I don’t want him getting upset and having another heart attack.’

  ‘Well, I was going to suggest that one of you accompany us to try and keep things as calm and familiar for him as possible,’ DI Spencer said.

  ‘I agree.’ Nadia nodded. ‘I’ll come with you.’

  ‘You’re not questioning him without me.’ Ethan stood, towering over DI Spencer.

  DI Spencer looked at me, silently asking my opinion.

  ‘I’d like to go, too,’ I said.

  ‘Right. Well, shall we all jump in our car together?’ DS Khan asked.

  ‘I’ll take my car,’ Nadia said. ‘I have to stop at the supermarket on the way home.’

  I wondered how she could even think about eating at a time like this but stress and anxiety affected people in different ways. Who was I to judge? Nadia’s drug of choice was comfort food. I’d be numbing the anxiety later with wine.

  ‘I’ll drive, too.’ Ethan grabbed his car keys from the island and clenched them in his fist before anyone could challenge him.

  As we drove in convoy to the nursing home, I had the feeling that my normal life would never be normal again.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Tom’s room was crowded with all of us in there. I stood in front of the window while DI Spencer and DS Khan stood at the end of Tom’s bed. Nadia sat on the edge of the bed next to her father, stroking his hand. Ethan stood protectively on the other side, fists clenching and unclenching, looking as if he was about to explode, or hit someone or . . . do something volatile. My heart squeezed in sympathy for him. He still wanted to believe the impossible, to hang onto the insane idea that Tom hadn’t committed this terrible crime. That there was some other explanation. I got it, of course. I understood why no one would want to believe their parent could be capable of something like his. I didn’t want to believe it, either. Not of Tom. His words from a few days ago floated in my head. I was just protecting my family. I was just doing what a parent should. It was exactly what Ethan was doing then, trying to protect his father. I was torn between wanting to protect Tom and wanting him to rot in hell, just like Katie had told Jack to. Even if she’d stolen something or blackmailed Tom, or slept around and lied, or dared to dream of a better, more secure life, or tried to have sex with Ethan, she didn’t deserve to be murdered and buried under a pile of earth and concrete like a piece of rubbish.

  ‘I don’t want an enema.’ Tom looked at DI Spencer and DS Khan.

  Nadia squeezed his hand. ‘They’re not doctors, Dad.’

  ‘Why are they in my room, then?’ Tom turned his head to her for guidance.

  ‘They want to ask you some questions.’ Ethan’s voice was laced with contempt for the officers that he didn’t bother to hide.

  ‘I’m tired.’ Tom rested his head back on the pillow and closed his eyes. ‘I’m going on holiday later and I want a nap. I’m going to Spain. It’s nice there – have you been?’

  I pictured us all about five years ago, before the Alzheimer’s was really rearing its ugly head, when we had all taken a family holiday out to stay with my parents at their converted finca in Andalucía. I didn’t get to see them that much after they moved abroad so it was a great time, with both the Tates and Maxwells spending lazy days around the pool, reading books or playing water volleyball or bat and ball. We’d taken Charlotte with us, too, and both girls were hardly out of the pool for two whole weeks. On days out we soaked up the history of the area, then went for early evening walks to the local restaurants and ordered tapas that, surprisingly, Anna loved. Even the squid! Who’d have thought things would end up here?

  ‘We won’t take long, Tom,’ DI Spencer softened his voice slightly, making it sound soothing and relaxed, and it struck me that he was probably a bit like a chameleon, changing his persona when relating to different types of people as he tried to eke out more information. ‘Do you remember telling Olivia about Katie Quinn?’

  Tom’s eyelids flew open and his gaze sought mine. The skin around his eyes wrinkled at the edges as his face crumpled in on itself.

  I blinked back the tears. ‘I’m sorry, Tom. I had to tell them what you told me.’

  Ethan glared at me again, and I looked away, out of the window at a magpie on the lawn, squawking as it chased away a blackbird. What was that saying about them? One for sorrow. Was it a premonitory warning? I swallowed and turned back.

  ‘Do you remember telling Olivia that you’d buried Katie under the garage?’ DI Spencer tried again.

  ‘She’s lying. Olivia’s always lying.’ Tom clamped his mouth into a thin trembling line.

  ‘Was it an accident? Is that what happened?’ DI Spencer asked and waited patiently in the silence that followed. When Tom didn’t speak, he said, ‘We found a skeleton buried where you said it was. Is that Katie?’

  Tom started coughing, a hacking, dry sound. He leaned forward and Nadia patted his back.

  I poured him water from a jug on his bedside cabinet and tilted the glass in front of him. ‘Have a drink.’

  His eyes streamed as he took some small sips, but I couldn’t tell if it was from the coughing fit or because he was crying.

  ‘We need to find out what happened to her, Mr Tate,’ DS Khan said gently.

  Tom wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and let the tears wind down his cheeks. ‘I . . . it’s . . . was a long time ago.’

  ‘We know. That’s why we need to piece things together,’ DI Spencer said. ‘Can you tell us?’

  ‘She shouldn’t have done it.’ Tom looked up and stared at me but he wasn’t looking at me, he was looking through me, as if drowning in some distant memory.

  ‘D
one what?’ DI Spencer asked.

  Tom opened his mouth to speak and then shook his head.

  ‘Please, Dad,’ Nadia pleaded with him in a tiny voice.

  Suddenly Tom snatched his hand back from Nadia’s and fumbled with the bed covers, trying to pull them down but really just flinging them around. ‘You’re not taking me away. I know your type!’ he snarled, managing to free his pyjama-clad legs and swing them over the edge of the bed. ‘No, no, no.’ He shook his head manically. ‘Not taking me. Not.’ He tried to lift himself off the bed with his forearms but he was breathing hard, face red with effort and anger. ‘I’m not going with you! You’ll put me in one of those . . . one of those . . .’ He pointed a shaky finger at DI Spencer.

  Ethan, who had managed to contain himself so far and stay quiet, erupted then. ‘Right. That’s it. You’ll have to leave. Can’t you see you’re upsetting him? He’s had one heart attack already. Do you want another one on your conscience?’ He took a step closer to the end of the bed, as if to shield Tom from them.

  Alerted by the commotion, Mary entered the room. ‘Is everything all right in here?’ Her eyes sought out Tom, who was shaking now and fiddling with the buttons of his pyjama top, trying to get it undone.

  ‘Tom, let’s get you back into bed now, eh?’ She lifted his legs to try and swing them back under the covers but he protested.

  ‘No!’ He flung his arm out, pushing her away. For someone who had seemed so feeble a minute ago, he had surprising strength. ‘Get away from me. You’re all trying to kill me! You’re trying to KILL ME!’ He shrank away from her, curling sideways into his pillows. ‘Go on! Get away!’ He opened his mouth, took out his denture plate with false teeth attached and threw them in the direction of DS Khan and DI Spencer, who darted sideways to avoid a direct hit.

  ‘Come on, now, Tom, it’s OK.’ I stepped forward into his direct sightline and sat down in front of him on my haunches. ‘No one’s taking you away. You’re safe.’

  Nadia started crying. ‘Dad, oh, Dad, don’t worry. Just calm down.’

  ‘Look what you’re doing!’ Ethan barked out.

  ‘I think it would be better if you came back another time,’ Mary said to DI Spencer and DS Khan. ‘When he gets like this it’ll take a long time to get him settled again.’

  DI Spencer nodded and looked at us all. ‘We’ll be in touch. In the meantime, if you remember anything, please give us a call.’ And then they left the room.

  ‘I can give him something to calm him down,’ Mary said.

  ‘You’re all right, Tom. Nothing’s going to happen.’ I looked up into his eyes and saw a flicker of recognition there.

  ‘Olivia?’ he said, his voice distorted without his dentures. ‘Are you taking me to Durdle Door? I want to see Durdle Door.’ He grabbed hold of my arm, his fingernails digging into the skin. ‘Want to go to Durdle Door. Take me. You take me, don’t you?’

  I looked over at Ethan, whose dark eyes reflected back anger and pain. ‘Shall we take him?’

  ‘Is he OK to go out, though?’ Nadia asked Mary. ‘He only had the heart attack the other day.’

  ‘He’s got a DNR order and he’s going to . . .’ Ethan’s voice cracked and his eyes watered. ‘We should make this time as nice as possible for him.’

  ‘I agree,’ Mary said. ‘Plus, he still needs to have some exercise, and a visit out there always relaxes him. You can take one of the wheelchairs out in the corridor for him in case he’s not strong enough to do his usual walk. It’ll fold up to go in the car.’

  ‘I’ll take him,’ Ethan said.

  ‘Why don’t we all go?’ I suggested.

  ‘No,’ Ethan said forcefully. ‘I want to spend some time with him.’ He looked at me and I knew what he was saying without words: before he dies. ‘Dad? I’m going to take you out to Durdle Door, OK?’

  Tom visibly relaxed then, his shoulders dropping from their rigid hunch up around his neck. ‘Will you, Tom?’

  ‘I’m Ethan, Dad.’ He blinked rapidly and sniffed. ‘Now, shall we get you dressed, eh?’ He found Tom’s clothes in the small cupboard in the corner of the room and pulled out some trousers and a shirt.

  ‘All right, now, Tom?’ Mary stood back. ‘Shall I bring you a nice cup of tea first and a few biscuits before you go?’

  Tom nodded slowly.

  Mary patted his hand, gave us a sympathetic smile and picked up Tom’s dentures. ‘I’ll just clean these and I’ll be back with some tea.’

  Nadia kissed Tom on the cheek. ‘I’ll see you soon, Dad. Love you.’

  ‘Bye, Tom. See you soon.’ I squeezed Ethan’s shoulder as I walked past. ‘I’ll see you at home later. We need to talk about what we’re going to tell Anna.’

  Nadia and I didn’t speak until we were sitting in her car.

  ‘That was awful. The whole day’s been awful,’ she said.

  ‘More than awful.’ I couldn’t think of a word to describe what it was.

  ‘You’re right, though: what are we going to tell the kids?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ I leaned my head back on the headrest and let out a sigh. ‘How do you tell your daughter that the granddad who’s always doted on her is a murderer? That he killed a young woman and buried her in the garage of the house she’s been living in for the last four years?’

  But as it turned out, something worse delayed me telling Anna about Katie.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Nadia and I sat in the corner of a coffee shop in Dorchester high street, trying to process what had happened. We were still both in shock.

  ‘I just can’t believe it.’ Nadia took a sip of her espresso, her pale blue eyes looking grey against the pallor of her skin. ‘It’s . . . bloody hell.’ She balled her hands into fists.

  ‘Anna won’t want to live in the house anymore, will she? I don’t want to live there anymore! We’ll have to sell it.’

  ‘You can come and stay with us. We’ve got room.’ She blinked back tears.

  My stomach rumbled, and I remembered I hadn’t eaten anything all day. ‘Maybe that would be best. For a while, at least. Anna’s going to have nightmares. Do you remember when she saw that story on the news about those Japanese fishermen in Taiji who hunt dolphins to either capture them for aquariums or slaughter them for food? She had nightmares after that for months. She kept waking up saying she was drowning in their blood. It was horrendous. Actually, I couldn’t stop thinking about that afterwards, either. It’s horrific what humans do, isn’t it?’

  ‘She’s a lot stronger than you think.’

  ‘She’s sensitive.’

  ‘What are we going to tell them, then?’ Her foot tapped an erratic beat against the table leg.

  I stirred my spoon around in my cappuccino, staring down as if it hid all the answers. I held my breath. Finally, I exhaled and put the spoon on a napkin on the table. This was a parent’s worst nightmare. Your family was supposed to be a safe haven. Not capable of great cruelty and viciousness. Not capable of this. My thoughts wandered to Jack again. Was he Katie’s worst nightmare? Her home should’ve been a safe haven, too, but had he abused her? Had Rose turned a blind eye to it or was she too drunk to notice? Could I have prevented this somehow? Everything we do, every event in our lives has a domino effect. If Jack and Rose were sober, model parents, would Katie have grown up to have a normal life? If Jack was abusing her, was that the real reason she’d been running away? If Chris hadn’t split up with her, would she still be alive? If I’d paid more attention, would it have come to this? We all had a part to play in how things had ended up.

  ‘Maybe we should just say there’s been an accident for now, not go into specifics.’ Nadia’s voice dragged me back to the table. She patted her now wet cheeks with a napkin and took a long, hard breath. ‘Just that the police found some old bones but they don’t know who they belong to or what happened.’

&nbs
p; ‘You know as well as I do that as soon as the police start asking questions, people in the village are going to know what’s happened. Everyone’s going to be talking and speculating. Do you remember when Jody Spencer was having an affair with Dave Potts? The ridiculous stories people came out with then about how they were both into dogging and went out to a local playing field in the middle of the night to have sex with people? I mean, where the hell did they get that from? They must have some amazing imaginations to think up rubbish like that.’

  She sat upright, looking more like the in-control, calm, organised Nadia I knew so well. ‘Yes, but we can deal with the gossip when it happens.’

  I nodded, not really believing her, but anything to delay the inevitable sounded like the better option to me.

  ‘I just don’t understand,’ I said, my stomach lurching again. ‘Why would Tom do it? Why would he kill her? What makes a lovely, kind man kill a teenage girl? There must be more to the story.’

  ‘I just don’t believe Dad killed her. It’s impossible.’

  ‘Well, someone did. Someone with access to the garage who wouldn’t be discovered. Oh, God.’ I sat back in the chair, the enormity of everything sinking in like a kick to the solar plexus. I had a physical pain behind my breastbone and rubbed at it, shaking my head.

  Nadia swirled the bitter dregs of coffee round in her tiny cup, blinking back more tears. ‘I need another one of these.’ She nodded to my untouched drink. ‘Want one?’

  ‘No, thanks.’

  She came back with another espresso and two huge chocolate muffins. She slid one of the plates towards me. ‘You look like you’re about to pass out. You need some sugar.’

  ‘I can’t face food.’ My stomach contracted at the sight of it.

  ‘I need to eat. Comfort food.’ She pulled apart the muffin and picked off a chunk but her hands shook so much, she dropped it and it fell back onto the plate, scattering crumbs across the table.