‘Yeah, well, I said I was going to tell her precious Vincent, and you. I was going to tell everyone.’
‘Were you really going to tell?’
‘I don’t know. Jayden’s always saying he couldn’t bear it if people knew. I don’t think I could’ve done that to him, to be honest.’ Vincenzo shook his head.
‘But she believed you?’
‘Maybe.’
‘And that’s why she …’
‘I think she’d pushed it so far to the back of her mind that she’d never accepted it. You know what I mean? Being told it by me – being told all the details, broke her. She kept telling me she was sorry. Kept going on about the guilt.’
‘Chen, did you know she planned to kill herself?’ Lottie drew in her breath, scared of the answer.
‘No way. I know that out of everyone involved in this whole sorry mess, you’re as innocent as me and Jayden and all the others. I wouldn’t have just stood there and let your mum walk off if I’d known what she was gonna do.’
Lottie allowed herself to breathe freely again. ‘Thank you.’
‘I mean it. I honestly didn’t realise. I was shocked when I heard the news.’
‘How did you part?’
‘She was still crying. She kept apologising and saying a whole load of stuff about your dad. Telling me he was a strong man. Like I needed to be told that! She said she’d hinted that she knew, often suggesting that they stop the boy’s club, hoping it might be the end of it, but he never listened to her. To be honest, I’d had enough of it. I just called her some fucking awful names. Then I said …’ He paused. ‘I’m sorry, Lottie, but I said I was glad Douglas was dead and I wished she was too. But I didn’t mean it. I didn’t actually want her dead. I didn’t mean for her to … you know.’
‘I do understand why you felt so angry with her. My dad was a confident character. He believed the man was in charge in any household. I understand why she was scared to stand up to him. And I get why they only had one child. It must’ve been repulsive to let him touch her, even with the promise of a much yearned for baby at the end of it.’ Lottie felt nauseous. ‘But she should have stood up to him as soon as she knew. I would’ve done.’
‘Yes, I know you would.’
‘Jesus, what have I got floating around in my DNA? A monster and a coward. Great combo.’ Lottie couldn’t stop herself from crying.
‘You mustn’t think that way. You’re a good person. You’ve proved it. You’ve made a life for yourself without them, and without their rotten money. You are not the sum of them. You’re just Lottie.’ He reached for her and held her as she sobbed. ‘You’ve had so much to take in today. Do you wish I hadn’t told you?’
She shook her head. ‘No, as awful as it is, it’s better to know. I do wish I hadn’t fallen over though. I’m getting a thumping headache, and to tell the truth, it would be bad enough hearing all this stuff if I wasn’t so woozy.’
‘I’m sorry you hit your head.’
‘It’s not your fault. I thought you were angry. I got scared.’
‘I was worried, you were heading for a bloody tree backwards, you idiot.’ Vincenzo smiled warmly, adding, ‘Don’t ever be scared of me … I care about you.’ After a pause, he announced, ‘I shan’t go back again.’
‘To the meadow?’
‘Yeah, that was the last time for me. I’m done with reliving it all. I don’t need to go there. It’s over.’ This time it was his turn to cry, and Lottie’s turn to provide comfort.
She put her arms around him. ‘Do you know something? For the first time ever, I’m glad it’s not my meadow. I don’t want anything more to do with it either. Let’s leave it to the new family. Hopefully they can make some happy memories there.’
72
Hannah – 2019
Not long after she arrived home, Hannah was delighted to hear Lottie’s key in the front door. Dixie, somehow sensing the arrival of her mummy, began yapping and pirouetting on the spot.
Hardly giving Lottie a chance to get inside the house, Hannah grabbed her friend in a giant hug, demanding to know where she’d been.
As soon as she was free, Lottie went straight to her dog. ‘Oh, Dixie, you’re here!’ She swept her up into her arms. To Hannah, she said, ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.’
‘Scare me? One way and another, I’ve aged ten years tonight. Look at these worry lines. My car was nearly wrecked. And let’s not mention the wear and tear to the new carpet! Why didn’t you phone me? Or at least answer my calls? Dave and I have been out searching for you.’
‘Dave?’
‘Yeah, my ex-partner. Remember I told you we’d exchanged numbers? He helped me look for you. I was getting desperate. He did all right actually.’
‘I’m sorry, Han.’ Lottie explained that she’d been with Vincenzo in the meadow. ‘I think my phone ran out of charge earlier. I forgot to plug it in at work.’ Showing Hannah the egg on the side of her head, she also described how she’d unceremoniously hit her head on the ground when Chen had been trying to save her.
‘Do you think you ought to get someone to look at that?’
‘No.’ Lottie shook her head, gingerly. ‘Chen was going to take me to A&E, but it’s really not that bad. I persuaded him to bring me home instead. I don’t want to waste their time at the hosp.’
‘But you could be concussed.’
‘I think maybe I am, a bit. Everything seems so surreal. Like I’m looking through a kaleidoscope. But then again …’
‘What?’
‘It’s not every day you find out the twisted shit that Chen’s just told me.’
‘About your mum and dad?’
‘Yes. How much did he tell you when you met him?’
‘Just that he spoke to them both moments before they died. He seemed terribly angry at your dad … actually, your mum too.’
‘He is angry at them. But he has every right. I want to tell you what my dad did, but …’ Lottie paused, ‘I don’t know if I can say it.’
‘Take your time. I’ll get us a drink.’ Hannah made her way into the kitchen, pinging off a quick text to Dave to tell him to stand down and to thank him for his help.
‘Is there any wine?’ Lottie called out.
‘No offence, but I don’t think that’s the best idea. If there’s the slightest chance that you might be concussed, I’d say you should give alcohol a miss for tonight.’
‘What then?’
‘I’ll make you a coffee.’
‘With hot milk?’ Lottie followed Hannah into the kitchen, pulling a puppy dog face.
‘Of course.’ Hannah gave her friend a sympathetic smile. ‘I know you love a latte.’
After a few stops and starts, and with Dixie now sleeping soundly on her lap, Lottie managed to reveal the whole story. It wasn’t easy for her to say some of the words, and Hannah knew that the truth behind the events of her parents’ deaths had taken its toll on her friend.
Finally, half an hour and two milky lattes later, Hannah knew everything.
It was hard not to judge. Whatever these people had done, they were still Lottie’s parents, and as such it would do no good to voice the disgust she felt. Besides, the people that she really wanted to shout and swear at were both dead.
‘The thing is, Han, I don’t even know which one I’m angrier with, my mum or my dad? What my dad did was despicable; no one would disagree with that. But, not telling, not stopping it … I just can’t imagine …’
‘Because you’re not like her. You’re tougher.’
‘I don’t know. I was weak before. I liked my easy life, cocooned in my father’s money.’ Lottie broke down as she added, ‘In a house full of antiques and lies!’
‘But you wouldn’t have done nothing, Lottie. I’m sure of it.’
They talked on for another hour, before Hannah received a text from Paul. ‘Been to see the amnesiac. Doesn’t seem to know anything about Vinnie and wasn’t a youngster.’
Lottie leant over an
d read the text. ‘What’s that all about?’
Hannah explained her earlier fears.
‘You wally, I can’t believe you thought I was actually going to kill Chen.’
‘I didn’t know. You weren’t picking up your bloody phone. Then Paul told me about the amnesia patient with a nasty head injury, and I thought … well, to be honest, I wasn’t sure what to think. Had you hit him? The possibility was there.’
‘Well, I’d argue that it wasn’t. But I suppose I can understand your thought process.’ Lottie rubbed the side of her head. ‘Speaking of head injuries, this feels a bit better now. I’m glad I didn’t bother the doctors at A&E.’
‘The funny thing is I nearly ended up in the hospital myself earlier.’
‘What?’
‘I went looking for you. Turns out my hunch was right – I was heading for the meadow.’
‘We’re so in tune.’
‘Yes.’ Hannah laughed. ‘But, in my haste, I didn’t concentrate on that dangerous bend.’
‘Shit. Are you okay? The car?’
‘Yeah, but I think the other car’s wing mirror passed mine with about a millimetre to spare. Thank goodness I did that driving awareness course. Quick reflexes. Hah, hah, hah!’ Hannah karate chopped in front of Lottie’s face.
Lottie flinched, playfully. ‘Hey, Jackie Chan, hadn’t you better reply to that copper, Paul? By the way, I’m still mortified that he thinks I could be a killer.’
‘He doesn’t really. He just thinks I’m loopy.’ Hannah sent a quick text to Paul. ‘Much appreciated. Lottie’s home now. She and the young lad are fine. Sorry, just me overreacting. Hope your colleague learnt a bit though.’
Paul texted back a thumbs up, and Hannah thought no more about it.
Moments later, Hannah’s parents arrived home, full of good food and good cheer. They both made a fuss of Dixie.
Jacqui checked with her daughter, ‘All okay now?’
‘Yeah. Thanks. Sorry I was so … you know!’ Hannah twirled her index finger around her ear.
Her mum laughed. ‘It just shows you care, love.’
Hannah nodded. The whole thing had been a close call. She never wanted to worry about Lottie like that again.
It was whilst she was eating breakfast the next morning that another text came through from Paul. ‘The boss just asked me what the hell I was doing traipsing over to Lynton Haven last night. Had to think fast and make up an excuse. The things I do for you.’ He’d added a winking emoji to show he wasn’t really angry at her.
Hannah’s first thought was Vincent. She called up the stairs for Lottie, who, sensing the urgency, joined her straight away.
‘What’s up?’
Hannah showed her the text.
Lottie got the point. ‘The amnesiac is at Lynton Hospital!’
‘Exactly.’
‘And you think it’s Vincent?’
‘I don’t know. It could be nothing.’
‘But … your spidey senses are telling you otherwise?’
Picking up her phone, Hannah sent a text to Paul. ‘Didn’t realise you’d gone all the way over to Lynton Haven. Was the patient an older guy? Forty plus? Any chance he was Italian?’
Paul’s response was immediate. ‘WTF? You psychic or something? Yeah. Could’ve been Italian. Fancy shoes by his bed. Bit of an accent.’
She showed the reply to Lottie. ‘It’s only bloody Vincent. He’s gone and got himself walloped over the head.’
‘Oh God … his sister!’ Lottie exclaimed.
‘You think it was Cristina who hit him?’
‘Well, you did tell her where to find him. Maybe she’s not as sweet as we thought.’
‘Let’s be honest, there must be loads of people who’d like to have a go at your wicked stepdad. Anyone who’s ever met him probably hates him.’
‘True. He is an utter arsehole.’
‘The question now is – what shall we do?’
‘Do?’
‘Yeah. Do you think maybe it’s the right time for you to confront him? Talk money with him.’ Hannah rubbed her thumb and forefinger together.
Lottie looked confused. ‘But if he has amnesia, he might not even know he was married to my mum.’
‘If that man in A&E is Vincent, I’d bet a month’s wages he is not suffering from amnesia!’ Hannah scoffed.
‘Do you really think we should go?’
‘Why not?’
‘I can think of a million reasons.’
‘Name me one,’ Hannah demanded.
‘I thought we’d agreed I was going to let his sister make contact first.’
‘For all we know, she has made contact – with his head.’
‘Jesus, Han, what if it was her? Are we implicated?’
‘No. We couldn’t have known what she had planned. She said he needed to be told about his mum. Come on, let’s just go. It’s only about forty minutes away if the traffic’s good. Plus, it’s Saturday, no work. We deserve a day out. Is your head okay?’
‘Yeah, I feel fine now. I actually slept pretty well last night, unbelievable as it is.’ Lottie reached up and touched the side of her head. The egg had gone down.
‘No headache today then?’
‘No.’
‘How do you feel about Vincenzo and all the other stuff?’
Lottie considered for a second. ‘I don’t know. It’s still hard to get my head around it all. Mostly, I just feel awful for Chen and his friends. You should’ve seen him, Han. It was heart-breaking.’
‘I reckon it was a brave move of his to tell you.’
‘Yeah, and I think, in some ways, it helped him a bit to talk about it. I hope so anyway.’
‘So, are you up for a trip out?’
‘Can we have bacon butties from the café?’
‘If you like.’
‘Han? Am I finally about to come face to face with Vincent?’
‘I bloody hope so.’
73
Vincent – 2019
As soon as he was able, Vincent made it clear to the old bag who was in charge of the ward that he’d remembered who he was, and he’d like to leave. He used the name Trevor Reynolds; it seemed pleasant enough, and far removed from his own name. She insisted the doctor check him over before she could let him go. Vincent then had an agonising wait for the man-child of a doctor to come and do his rounds. During the wait, an important fact slotted into place. It proved to be far more helpful than all the other insignificant things that had flooded his brain throughout the previous night. He remembered there was a secret pocket in the lining of his summer jacket, and soon retrieved his wallet and new ID. Ahh yes, Royal, that was it. As he looked at his new name, another fact came to mind. He’d thrown both his phones away. He hadn’t been mugged after all. So, why hit me?
Due to the nature of some of the patients’ brain injuries, there was a buzzer system on the door, preventing Vincent from simply walking out. However, the door system was a two-edged sword; it also meant visitors were not allowed to stroll in, thus providing him with a modicum of protection from his pursuers. Nevertheless, he watched that door like a hawk, just in case.
After waiting an age, the doctor once again shone his light into Vincent’s eyes and asked him to follow his pen. Content with the state of the patient’s pupils, and happy that the dressing was clean, the doctor agreed that Vincent could leave. ‘Just give your full details to the receptionists in A&E on your way out; they’ll need to update the records. They had nothing to go on last night. You’ll also need a follow up appointment to check the wound, Trevor.’
Vincent agreed, and the nurse finally allowed him to go through the sacred door. With no intention of returning to A&E Reception, he headed straight for the hospital exit.
He had to walk into town. It wasn’t far, a couple of miles if that, but he missed his Porsche. Walking was for the poor. Almost the first shop he came across sold men’s clothes, and, determined to get rid of his conspicuous and quite frankly disgusting clothes,
Vincent popped in.
‘Do you have anywhere you could dispose of the shirt and jacket I was wearing when I came in?’
The shop assistant wrinkled up her nose. ‘What? Like a clinical waste bin?’
‘So, that’s a no, is it?’
‘Well, I’m not being funny, but there were great big blood stains down the back of ’em.’
‘Do you think I wasn’t aware of that?’
‘Well …’ The girl gormlessly chewed her fingernails.
‘I’m merely asking if you have a bin.’
‘Customers don’t usually throw their clothes away when they buy new stuff.’
Vincent was reminded of Abbie. Why did these stupid young women have to be so argumentative? In a slow and deliberate voice, he gave the young shop assistant one last chance to answer his question. ‘I had an accident; you can probably see the enormous dressing stuck to the back of my head. My jacket and shirt were ruined. That’s why I’ve bought new ones from your shop. Now, I’m just asking if you have a bin that my spoilt clothes can fit in. It’s not a trick question. I am aware of how my old clothes look. I also know people don’t usually throw their clothes away. I just want to know if you have a bin for these.’ He shoved his soiled jacket and shirt towards her.
‘All right, there’s no need to be like that.’ The young girl held the offending items between her thumbs and forefingers and marched out the back, carrying them as if they were exhibits A and B.
Vincent paid for the new clothes and left. Checking his watch, he realised he’d wasted almost half an hour in the shop. That was annoying, but it was a necessary delay; the looks he’d been attracting hardly went with the low-key exit he was planning to make from England.
74
Lottie – 2019
Lottie wasn’t sure she was going to be able to enjoy her bacon butty when she eventually got it. The thought of seeing Vincent, coupled with the fact that Hannah was driving at the top end of the speed limit, was starting to make her feel queasy. Questions were whirring around her mind. What if it wasn’t him? What if it was? What should she say? Had anything changed now she knew the reason behind her mum’s suicide? Come to think of it, did Vincent know the awful truth about her father? That last question really made her want to vomit. It was such an abhorrent family secret; she could only hope that her mum had never chosen to share the details with him.
Swindled (The Sandlin PI Series Book 1) Page 25