by Ruth Harrow
'The fact that the police even dared to question me on my whereabouts the night of the fire. They had the nerve to suspect I had killed my own family. It must have looked suspicious to them that I was the sole survivor and all that. I'm sure it is still on record somewhere. I've had the odd run-in with the police over the years since. I swear they always give me funny looks when they see my file. Like everyone else, they always think the worst of me …'
He suddenly looks me up and down and I feel exposed. I desperately need to get out of here.
I quickly think of something to say to distract him from his staring. So I ask, 'But, I thought you were Penny's brother? Doesn't that mean she is a Wakefield too?'
I think of Penny's attitude towards me, the cold look in her eyes; the way she has tried to drive a wedge between me and my father; the way she argued with David in the street when she thought no one was looking.
'No. I told you, she isn't anything to do with Paige. After the fire, my family were killed and I had no home to go back to. Nowhere else to go. The local authority put me up in a foster home in Wellington. Penny was already there. They were a nice couple that put us up, always tried to do right by the children they cared for. I was given their last name – they thought it for the best considering my circumstances. Penny had been there for years before I got there. She always looked out for me from then on. I got into trouble a few years ago, but she let me come and work with her. Put me back on the straight and narrow.'
She hasn't done a very good job, I think to myself.
'So she isn't involved in all this?' I ask. 'She doesn't know anything?'
'No. She doesn't even know I had the phone.'
'How did you get April's phone?' I take a deep breath, not sure I can bear to hear the answer. 'You were there, weren't you? When she was on that bridge. She didn't jump, did she?'
He raises his eyebrows at me, as though I am a petty criminal he is outraged to have caught shoplifting. 'Is that what you think of me, is it? You are just like the rest of the village. I must be a scumbag if I'm one of the Wakefields, eh?'
'You've already admitted you were stalking April.'
'I wouldn't exactly call it stalking. I was just trying to remind your sister that she can't just skip along and have a merry little life after what she's done. I wanted to make sure she never forgot. It so happens that I got her phone by accident.'
'By accident?'
'I couldn't quite believe it either. I was cleaning your Dad's place with Penny after a load of guests checked out last month. Your dear old sister must have been staying there too because she had left behind her phone. Left it right on the bedside cabinet.'
That must have been when April visited Dad; when Reverend Walker saw her; the visit I was never told about. 'How did you know it belonged to April?'
He nods his head towards the device I have almost forgotten I have clutched in my hand.
I squeeze a button and beneath multiple missed call notifications from my number, I find myself staring at April's lock screen picture. There is a swoop in my stomach as I see two young happy faces smiling back at me. It is a photo of April and me in the back garden. I remember it was taken before the school holidays that summer.
It must have been the last photo taken of us before everything went wrong. We smile innocently at the camera, unknowing, unaware; oblivious of what was to come just weeks later.
David watches me, scrutinising my face. 'I knew something was up if she had left her phone behind. I mean, who does that these days? Then, not even a week later, Penny tells me the news that someone saw her jump off a bridge. Your sister's phone proved extremely useful. It was easy to guess the password from everything I'd heard your old Dad say to Penny about the two of you. Then I had access to everything … I could see her old messages. I could tell she had met up with your lovely husband on New Year's Eve last year ... Anyway, that phone was useful for reaching out to you. I had a feeling you would want to do the right thing in the end ...'
A lump forms in my throat. My head swims, trying to fit everything together; the gossip Mum repeated from April's colleague, the ominous messages from April's phone; the feeling of being watched; the light from a phone in the fields behind Dad's house ... Chaotic pieces of a troubling puzzle. Families torn apart – the Wakefields' and mine.
The silence is heavy and David seems in no hurry to break it. He stares at me intently from his position in front of the doorway.
'You said the three of us were responsible for Paige's death. You're wrong. We never even saw her that day. Besides, her body was never found. I don't believe she is dead.'
He laughs, but not from amusement. 'You don't even think she is dead? How could you say such a thing? Of course she is. Little girls don't just disappear into thin air. Especially when there are so many people in a place that would want to do them harm.'
I shake my head furiously, now eyeing the boarded-up window. A corner is torn off, but we are too high up.
'No one would have wanted to harm Paige,' I say quietly. 'She was only a child.'
'You might have thought that way, but there were others that felt differently. People like Reginald Green, for instance.'
He fixes me with his intense gaze and I find myself unable to look away. 'And people like William Peterson.'
60
'No,' I whisper, shaking my head.
'No? Come on, Little Rose, you know I'm telling the truth.'
'Will can't have been involved in all that. He wouldn't.'
'You know as well as I do that you three were in the woods that day. You can't deny it. You met Paige there.'
'You are wrong. This is all untrue.'
He sighs heavily, looking impatient. 'I was hoping you were going to tell me what happened in more detail. That was my main reason for sending you and April the messages. I thought it might stir the truth out of one, or both of you. I thought you might know everything by now from dear William. I began to think that the full truth – I don't know – might have become pillow talk at some point. But he seems to like keeping secrets from you, does your husband.'
'There aren't any secrets,' I say, wishing I could sound more confident.
He laughs. 'I heard he keeps you locked out of his loft-office. What do you think he gets up to in there locked away for hours on end? Seems pretty keen to keep you out of his computer, doesn't he? I know April had a lot to say about Will before you married him. She even told you not to do it, didn't she?'
He pauses, but I say nothing.
'I'm also told you had no idea he had visited good old Reg since he has been back,' David goes on. 'It was news to you that he had been over to see his old pal Dylan, too.'
I shake my head. 'How do you know all this?'
He shrugs. 'Your Dad has become good friends with Penny. She tells me everything when we are working. Loves a good old gossip. The more scandalous, the better.'
'Whatever Will has neglected to tell me, I know he certainly hasn't killed anyone. I swear. I would know.'
David flicks back his wild dark fringe from where it has crept into his eyes. I am forcibly reminded of the way Paige used to flick back her ponytail.
He fixes me with a shrewd gaze. 'So you don't even suspect your beloved husband when it comes to Reg Green's murder, then?'
'No. Of course not. Will didn't kill Reg. He can't have done. Those pipes were old. Everything in that house was old and in need of repair. It could have happened naturally.'
'A happy accident?'
'Yes – well no – but an accident all the same.'
'You don't think it was deliberate? You see, I know someone else who paid a visit to the old man recently. And everyone says the bloke has been going downhill since then.'
'Who?'
'April, of course. She went to his house last month. It would have been no more than a week before she went up to the top of that bridge.'
I think of what Reverend Walker said, that April returned shortly before her death. Had she been
to see Reg then too? What did she do during that visit?'
Even as I shake my head, a strange feeling creeps over my shoulders, a grim realisation.
April could have done it for the same reason the gossiping villagers suspected of Will – to protect old secrets from loosening old lips, knowing she wouldn't be around to face the consequences.
Is that why she came back?
'You are wrong,' I say, firmly, hoping I am right. 'Anyway, it doesn't matter now, does it? For all I know you did it yourself to frame us all. You as good as said so in that text. “Seeing a pattern in people who have done wrong?”, you wrote. Besides, my sister wouldn't have done such a thing. She had nothing against Reg.'
He smirks horribly. 'I'm sure you three were all good pals with the old man. He never did anything to harm you, did he? Never started a vendetta against your nice respectable families. No. One of you killed him to shut him up, or to frame him. Or both. Dead men can't protest their innocence, can they?'
'I already told you. I don't know what you are talking about.'
The house creaks loudly again. The smell of must clings to the back of my throat, my sinuses, my clothes. I have the urge to never wear these clothes again when I get out of here.
If I ever get out of here, I think.
'Look, let's go somewhere else,' I say, glancing again at the doorway. 'We can talk properly somewhere outside – at the station, or in the churchyard, or –'
'The cemetery?' He snorts, then a hardened look falls over his face, locking his features in something like a grimace. 'You aren't going anywhere until we have finished our little chat about the day Paige died.'
'I told you, I don't know anything. You're making a big mistake. You can't keep me here under – under false imprisonment. Look, if you let me go, I won't say anything to anyone, I promise. Just leave me and my family alone. Please.'
'Like your little trio left Paige alone, you mean?'
I shake my head, looking longingly at the door. 'I don't remember much from back then. I was just a child when that all happened.'
'I know you were. You were the same age as Paige, you know. Even the same height. It was really obvious the last time I saw her. It was when she was standing right beside you on the lane that passes through the woods. Ask me how I know,' he adds.
It is now that I notice the sheen of sweat on David's cheeks. His hair seems to cling to his forehead in moistening clumps. The expression in his eyes is manic.
I wonder if he has any intention at all of letting me out of here.
'I – I just want to go home.'
David's voice rises sharply and he takes a sudden step towards me. 'Play along, Hannah! There's a good girl now.'
I fold my arms across my chest; I can feel my raging heart somewhere beneath. I can only seem to manage a strangled sort of mutter when I speak, 'How do you know?'
'It's funny you ask. You see, I know all this because there was a witness to your little trio's crime that day.'
Despite myself, my curiosity is piqued, yet, a sinking sense of dread settles on my shoulders.
'A witness?'
'Yes, that's right.' His grimace becomes more ugly. 'Guess who it was? Go on – guess!'
'Who?'
He leaves a dramatic pause before answering. 'Me.'
David nods impressively. I get the sense he has been yearning to discuss this for many years.
'Yes, Hannah. I was in the woods that day. I saw everything.'
61
'You?'
'I was there.'
My voice is strangled again. 'I don't understand.'
He laughs. There is a certain cruelty about his person which has been obvious since the first moment I saw him.
My eyes flicker towards the doorway again. Just go, says a voice in my head. But I know I won't make it. If he takes his eyes off me long enough I will make a break for it. I adjust my footing ready.
'There seems to be a lot you don't understand, Hannah,' David says, continuing to pull his face into an ugly smirk. 'It is just as well we are having this conversation, isn't it? For the longest time, you tried to ignore everything. Just like your sister. And your husband. The three of you like burying your head in the sand, don't you? Thought you could sweep Paige off into the woods like an animal or a piece of rubbish and forget all about her, didn't you? But I haven't forgotten. I will never forget what you three did.'
I want to believe he is lying. Bluffing. He has to be. No one ever questioned April and me on the events of that day. Surely we would have been reported to the police by now?
'What we did? We did nothing. You're lying,' I say, praying I am proven right.
He nods and the manic expression seems to cause his eyes to appear fit to burst.
'That's exactly right – you did nothing! Your worthless husband ran into Paige with his car. Then he let her wander off into the woods. That was the last time I saw her – and you and April did absolutely NOTHING!'
His voice rings out in the silence and seems to vibrate through the rotten floorboards beneath the peeling carpet. In his anger, David has taken a few steps further into the room – and away from the doorway.
The rapid uptake in my heart seems to be the cue I am waiting for. My legs feel weak, but I suddenly force them into action anyway.
I dash towards the doorway.
For a split second, I think I am going to make it. But then David's arm catches me painfully around the waist and I am wrenched back into the room.
There is a smell of stale sweat and I am forcibly reminded of the stranger who wandered in through Dad's front door.
I stumble as David pushes me back and the nodes of my spine collide painfully with the boarded window.
My breathing comes out in panicked gasps punctuated by the odd sob.
David breathes heavily too, staring at me. He looks as though he would like nothing more than to strike me down. I stare at him warily, wondering if he will run at me, wrap his work-beaten hands around my throat.
When David speaks again his voice quavers erratically. He sounds almost close to angry tears.
'As I was saying ... the three of you thought you were alone ... thought you could get away with it if you just left Paige there. You didn't give a shit. You just left her there to die.'
'No! No of course not.' My throat is so tight, I can hardly breathe. It distorts my voice horribly so that I sound terrified which does nothing to make me feel braver. 'I don't think she was killed that day. She walked away just fine! She didn't even look harmed.'
'That is not how I saw it … I watched it all from the trees. Even from a distance, I could tell Paige wasn't right. As far as you knew she died from her injuries somewhere … Somewhere secluded.'
'Well, if you were there then why didn't you go after her? Get help?'
'Yes, I did! I'm not heartless like you three – or at least, I wasn't back then ... I went after Paige, but couldn't find her anywhere. It was pitch-dark in the trees. I had no light with me ... I searched for over an hour but it seemed she had vanished. She didn't respond to my calls. I screamed her name for ages until my throat stung. I had no hope of finding her alone in the dark. I ran back into the village and told my father what happened. He was an idiot – wasted time searching for her himself first. Thought he could do a better job than me. I'd already searched the entire wood. It was only when he couldn't find anything that he called the police. Of course that worked against him later on. But he was always so distrusting of the Old Bill.'
I try to make my voice as gentle as possible. 'The fact that no one found anything only proves that I am right, though, doesn't it? I have thought it through so many times over the years. Look, the police searched all over the area. If Paige had some kind of injury – a concussion, or something similar – she would have fallen somewhere. They had sniffer dogs and all sorts. April and I saw them. We watched them from our bedroom window one day. They lead them all over the fields. They must have gone all through the woods too, but they never
found her. They found nothing.'
'That's not true. The dogs lead the police to the woods, but then the trail ran cold. It is like she vanished into thin air ... Funnily enough, I have been over and over it in my head loads too and I've narrowed it down to two possibilities. A – my little sister was so badly injured she just dropped dead somewhere. She could have wandered for miles confused and not knowing where she was, or even who she was.'
'So you admit she could still be alive!'
David raises his voice rapidly. 'But then why did the dogs not track her down, eh? Or the police? Someone would have recognised her at some point, wouldn't they? Then there is option B – someone entered the woods once she was already hurt and killed her. Disposed of her body. Made sure there was no evidence left behind ...'
The horrible silence sinks heavily into the disgusting musty room again. I can't stand the smell all of a sudden. I have to get out of here. The feeling I had in those weeks after Paige disappeared, the claustrophobia the secret compressed onto me rises again. My legs feel unstable and I feel like I might collapse or scream, or both, if I don't get out of here soon.
David speaks again. 'So, Little Rose, which do you think it is?'
'I don't know,' I say, noticing my voice sounds strangled again as it escapes my throat. 'I don't believe Will fatally injured her with his car. I really don't.'
'That is what you want to believe, isn't it? But I'm sure your husband did kill Paige … Maybe he did it when you weren't even looking. Which brings us back again to the second scenario.'
I shake my head, not wanting to hear the words I know are coming next.
'Maybe he went back for her.'
62
'You are wrong. He wouldn't. He can't have,' I say. 'Will was with us.'
'Oh yeah? He could easily have gone back later on and covered his tracks, don't you think? How long were you three together after Paige was knocked down?'
'A while,' I say. 'There wouldn't have been time ...'