by Mary Grand
‘Yes, I’m fine.’
‘I am going to go out to be with Patrick and Conor. Dad has gone into the pharmacy. Are you OK for school?’
‘Of course. I’m going to Elsa’s after school. She’s going to help me with my biology coursework.’
‘OK, but, well, be careful. Phone me if you need me.’
Beth was glad to have spoken to Layla. Sometimes there was a light in their relationship, and the little girl she used to make up stories for in bed, who she made sandcastles with on the beach, was still there.
Beth knocked on Adam’s door and pushed it open a little.
‘I’m not going into school, study day. Mum, is it true about Kathleen?’
Beth slowly pushed open the bedroom door to go in. Through the gloom of the darkened room she could make out the light of Adam’s phone in his hand. He was sitting on his bed.
‘I’m afraid it is.’
Adam sat up. He had coal black hair like his father. It reminded her of photos she’d seen of Sami when he was younger, living in Iraq. He moved over to the chair.
‘It’s all over Instagram. A friend of the person who found Kathleen’s body on the beach has written about it.’
‘I’m sure they shouldn’t have done that.’
‘They said they’ve been contacted by the Mail already, but the police have told them not to talk.’
Beth shuddered; to have her friend’s sudden death turned into social media gossip was horrible. She hoped Patrick wasn’t aware of it.
‘It’s on Twitter as well. Someone has said they think she killed herself. Do you think that, Mum?’
Beth gasped. Why would people throw such insensitive things up on social media, things that would only be whispered in ‘real life’.
‘I don’t know why they’re saying that. There’s no reason to think that.’ Beth sat down. ‘Look, the police will look into everything, don’t put anything online.’
Adam swung back on his chair in a way that always made her heart rush. ‘Kathleen helped me a hell of a lot in the pharmacy on Saturdays. The old people like her as well; she’s been there for ages.’
‘Nearly ten years. I remember meeting her at church, she was looking for work and I told her Dad was advertising for someone in the pharmacy. It seems a lifetime ago now. Listen, I’m thinking of going over to be with Patrick and Conor. Have you heard from Conor, by the way?’
‘Nah. Me and him, we’re not close. You know that, Mum. Different friends and interests.’
‘I know, but I thought now that Layla seems to be hanging about with him—’
‘I wish she wouldn’t. He’s a bit of a prat. Him and his mates in the band think they are rock stars; it’s pathetic.’
‘Could you say something to her?’
‘No way. I’m not having her going off at me. She’ll find out soon enough.’
‘Fair enough. I’m off then. What will you be up to?’
‘Revision, the usual.’
‘Could you work downstairs, keep Ollie company and take him for a walk later?’
‘OK.’
‘Don’t forget, will you? He needs his walk. There’s pizza and things in the freezer. Make sure you take a break.’
‘I’m OK, Mum.’
‘All right. Well, I’ll have my mobile. See you later.’
Beth left the house and climbed into her car, but then paused. She felt sick, dreading the thought of facing Patrick and Conor, the police, the house. Why had she been so ready to offer to go over when she could have stayed home, worked on her thesis, walked Ollie? Anything, in fact, other than face all this pain?
Beth pushed the key into the ignition, telling herself firmly that Kathleen had been one of her closest friends, someone she’d let down lately. Of course, she should go and look after her grieving husband and son. Like Sami said, she wasn’t to worry about anything else. Her role now was to look after Patrick and Conor: that is all that mattered.
4
Beth knew the journey would take about fifteen minutes, and she drove to Patrick’s house along the winding ‘middle road’ that cut through the farmland from Castleford to Freshwater. She turned off this road, through the village of Brook and then out on to the Military Road. The views were stunning this morning, On the left was the sea; on the right, fields; and ahead white chalk cliffs and Tennyson Down. She passed the carpark for Compton Bay, saw a few vans and people going down to surf, and finally, just before the hill down into Freshwater, on the left, she arrived at Patrick and Kathleen’s house. From the front, the house looked less aggressively modern, with soft brick work and large but normal windows. As no cars could park on the road itself, she could see straight down the hill to the bay. It was quiet this morning out of season, with just a single dog walker and someone running.
The parking area in front of Kathleen and Patrick’s house had on it a number of vehicles Beth didn’t recognise, including a police car. She parked her little silver Golf next to it. As she got out she breathed in the fresh bright air; it didn’t feel like the day of a tragedy.
A policewoman answered the door. To Beth’s surprise, it was someone she knew, a woman who used to work with her at Castleford Primary.
‘Goodness. It’s Sue, isn’t it? I’ve not seen you for a few years.’
Sue smiled. ‘No, I keep meaning to pop in. I hear Imogen is a great head. As you can see, I joined the police. I’m a Family Liaison Officer now.’
‘Congratulations,’ Beth said, smiling, her voice loud. She paused. For a moment, she realised to her horror, she’d forgotten why she was there. Lowering her voice, she looked past Sue into the house. ‘I’ve come to be with Patrick and Conor. How are they?’
‘In shock. I’m glad you’ve come.’
Beth followed her into the house, which now felt cold and empty. It seemed a lifetime since she was last there, not just the evening before. Patrick was sitting on the plush white sofa, staring at the floor.
He looked up slowly, peered at her, his eyes full of pain. At the sight of the anguish in front of her she felt her lips tremble.
Patrick stood up, his arms falling helplessly by his side and she walked over to him, held him. She could feel his body shake, emotion rumbling deep inside him. ‘I’m so sorry,’ she said quietly.
They sat down, Patrick holding her hand as if to stop himself drowning.
‘How is Conor?’
‘He’s upstairs. He insisted on driving himself over here earlier. He could have come in the police car with me. They sent a car, you know. I should have been here. That fence. It’s all my fault.’
Beth glanced out into the garden, and saw a large section cordoned off with people in white suits working. It looked like a crime scene from television, but this was real life. She quickly turned away, and sat with her back to it, next to Patrick.
Sue asked quietly, ‘Can I get you a drink?’ Their eyes met and Sue gave her a reassuring smile. Beth was glad she was there. Standing in her smart uniform with her fair hair in a neat bun she gave off the air that you were in safe hands: however frightening things appeared, she could handle it.
‘Coffee, please.’
Sue strode efficiently toward the kitchen area. She looked too at home. It did seem odd that a stranger to this house was here making the coffee, already familiar with the kitchen, Kathleen’s kitchen; but then nothing was normal now, was it? Sue put Beth’s mug down and left them.
Beth noticed that Patrick kept his back to the window. ‘They asked me how Kathleen was, if she seemed down. I said she had been tired, what with the move and everything but nothing else. They seemed to think she may have, you know, done something.’
‘I expect they have to ask things like that. Don’t let it upset you.’
‘It made me feel like I’d missed something. You two were talking a lot last night. Did she say she was unhappy or depressed? I’d noticed she seemed a bit on edge but despite that I thought she was excited about the house. I wanted her to love being here.’
Beth looked at his white, grief-stricken face, and chose her words carefully. ‘Patrick, I am sure she loved this house. She was so pleased to have her hens here and loved going down to do her meditation. We did talk about some other things. We had a lot to catch up on. In fact, she sent me a text this morning telling me she would see me at yoga tomorrow. We were going to have another chat then.’
‘So, she was planning things? That’s a good thing isn’t it? You must tell the police that—’ He stopped, tears again in his eyes. He waved his hand around aimlessly. ‘This was all for her, you know.’ Beth accepted the partial truth. ‘She was going to put chandeliers everywhere, had found a firm in France that made them. There’s already one upstairs, but she wanted them everywhere. They cost nearly as much as the house, but I’d have done it for her.’
‘I know,’ said Beth.
‘They haven’t let me see her yet,’ he added. ‘No one saw her fall. I keep wondering what she was thinking as she fell. And how long did she lie there, dying? Was she in terrible pain?’
His words conjured up terrible images. Beth hadn’t realised Sue was so close by until she spoke.
‘Patrick—’ Sue spoke gently but firmly. She waited until he looked at her. ‘It is most likely she died quickly. Remember, we told you she had a nasty cut on her head. We think she bumped it when she fell. She may well have died instantly, known nothing about it.’
Patrick looked at her, surprised, as if it was the first time he was hearing it. ‘You think that?’
‘Yes. We will know more soon, but you are not to let your mind go to those places.’
‘And when will I be able to see her?’
‘As soon as we can arrange it. Kathleen’s body will be taken to hospital. They just need to do a few things first.’
He nodded. Beth’s mind raced through too many things. Patrick, however, seemed to be wrapped in invisible cotton wool.
Sue returned to the kitchen and Beth heard the kettle boiling again. She sat feeling so helpless: nothing seemed the right thing to say.
Suddenly, Patrick asked, ‘How is Jilly?’
Beth frowned, ‘Jilly?’
‘She’s the neighbour who found Kathleen,’ explained Sue, coming over to them. She spoke to Patrick. ‘Jilly’s husband is with her. She’s upset but her doctor has been to see her. It was quite a shock.’
‘I’m glad it was her,’ said Patrick. ‘She liked Kathleen. I’m glad it was someone who knew her.’
‘Of course,’ said Sue. Turning to Beth she said, ‘Patrick’s brother is on his way.’
‘He’s coming from Dublin?’
‘He’s in Essex on business; he said he’d come straight here.’
‘It’ll be good to see him,’ said Patrick. ‘He’s a lawyer, you know, understands paperwork. He told me he’d contact Conor’s dad. I couldn’t face talking to that man. He was so dreadful to Kathleen. I couldn’t bear him pretending to be sorry.’
‘Sean is the best person to talk to him, I’m sure.’
Patrick turned to look out of the window. ‘I’ve no idea how to look after them.’
Confused by the sudden change of subject, Beth looked out of the window.
‘The hens,’ said Patrick. ‘I don’t know anything about looking after them. I don’t suppose you could have them?’
Beth shook her head. ‘Layla would love them and so would I but, no, I’m sorry. I’d have loved to take them on, but we’ve not got the space in the garden.’
Sue interrupted, spoke to Patrick. ‘You’re not to worry. When they have finished in the garden Jilly is going to come over and look after the hens. She could even move them in with hers if you would like?’
‘That might be a good idea. I blame them a little, you know—’
Beth blinked in confusion. Sue explained. ‘When we came here earlier with Patrick, the hens were running around down the bottom of the garden. Patrick didn’t understand why they were out.’
‘It’s odd. Kathleen wasn’t going to let them out of the coop until the permanent fence was up.’ said Beth
‘That’s what Patrick told us. One theory we are working on is that they escaped somehow and it was while Kathleen was trying to catch them that the accident occurred. It is possible that one of the hens went too close to the cliff edge, Kathleen chased it and tragically fell. Patrick seemed to think Kathleen would have taken that kind of risk to save one of her hens. Do you?’
‘She may have done. She was besotted with her hens. I could see her doing that, but I don’t understand why they would have been out at all.’
‘We don’t know details yet. We’ll look into it.’ Sue spoke as if the matter was closed.
‘I see. Were any of the hens hurt?’
Beth saw Sue’s eyebrows shoot up.
‘I know it sounds silly, but Kathleen loved them so much.’
Sue shook her head. ‘No, I don’t think so. Jilly’s husband made sure they were all put away and accounted for. He and his wife had helped Kathleen move them in.’
‘Good.’ Beth could feel tears again. ‘I’m sorry, but it matters. So, um, what time do they think everything happened with Kathleen?’
‘Kathleen was in her comfy clothes, and her mat was down there. Patrick told us she’d started going down there about quarter to seven, took down some of the fence, and used an app on her phone to do mindfulness, so sometime between when she went out and when Jilly found her at twenty to eight. We’ll know more soon.’
Beth nodded. Patrick stood up. ‘I’m going up to see Conor,’ he said, and left them. When he was out of sight Beth stood up and looked out at the garden again.
‘It feels unreal,’ she said. She glanced towards the stairs and then in a soft voice she asked, ‘I suppose this is like routine to them. I mean, it doesn’t mean anything, does it? They don’t think anyone came over and attacked Kathleen, do they?’ Beth tried to keep the desperation out of her voice.
‘They have to consider every possibility,’ replied Sue.
Beth felt a knife of fear twist inside. ‘Someone might have killed her?’
Sue softened her voice, like a mother reassuring her child as they go to the dentist. ‘There’s nothing obvious to suggest foul play, but they have to make sure.’
Beth turned her back on the garden and picked up her mug, but didn’t sip her coffee.
‘Patrick said you were asking about Kathleen’s state of mind.’
Sue sat forward. ‘We naturally need to ask these things. You two were good friends, weren’t you? Patrick said you were here last night and had a long chat with Kathleen?’
‘Yes, we were down the bottom of the garden.’
‘How did Kathleen seem to you?’
Beth bit her lip. ‘To be honest, I’ve been a bit out of touch with her recently, but last night she was worried, uptight.’
‘About what?’
‘I don’t know exactly.’ Beth’s mind was racing: how much should she say?
‘I know it’s difficult, but it helps us get a picture of how things were. Who was at the house party?’
As Beth saw Sue take out her notebook, she realised her role was a lot more than just making the tea. She panicked. Was she giving an official statement?
‘There was myself and my husband, Sami, with our kids, Adam and Layla.’
‘Sami Bashir?’
‘That’s it. He runs the pharmacy in Castleford. Also at the get-together was Alex Thompson. Alex has been based in London but has been coming weekly as a locum for Sami to cover his lecturing. This week Alex starts full time. He has moved to the island and is becoming a partner in the pharmacy. There was also Imogen from school, now Imogen Parker-Lewis, with her daughter, Elsa, and her husband, Dr William Parker-Lewis. He’s been a GP for five years now in the surgery that Sami’s pharmacy is attached to.’
‘And that was everyone?’
‘Um, and of course Patrick, Kathleen and her son, Conor. That’s all.’
‘Thank you,’ said Sue. ‘It’s
been so helpful having you here today. I assume it was Patrick who let you know what had happened.’
‘Yes. He rang us, early. Sami had come in from his run, I’d just walked my dog.’
‘Where did you go?’
‘I drove to Parkhurst Woods and walked there.’
‘Was it quiet there this morning?’
Beth fiddled with the cushion. ‘It was where we walked. We didn’t meet anyone. I went home, talked to Layla, then Sami came back. He was later than usual, didn’t get in until about ten to eight.’
‘Why was that?’
‘At the moment our friends, the Hendersons, are away. Their house is further along the Whitcombe Road. Sami goes up there to check on things, water the plants and stuff.’
‘So, does Sami run from home?’
‘Usually, although today he took the car. He was taking some bags of fertiliser. He went out about half six.’
‘That’s early.’
‘He had the house to check and then he runs in their fields. He loves the solitude.’
‘So, he didn’t meet lots of people?’
‘I don’t think so. He’d told me he liked it because it was so isolated up there.’
‘Now, you say Kathleen seemed a bit tense at the house party?’
Beth crossed her arms, spoke carefully. ‘I got the impression that she felt she’d upset someone who was there last night, and that they might be angry with her for some reason.’
‘Any idea who or what it was all about?’
The question hung in the air with Sue’s hand holding the pen, waiting to write down something. Beth remembered Sami’s warning to think of Patrick, not to say anything yet.
‘No, it was probably nothing,’ she said. ‘Kathleen could be a bit, how would you say, over-dramatic.’ As she spoke, the words felt a betrayal of Kathleen. ‘She sent me a text first thing this morning. She said she would see me at yoga tomorrow.’
‘Can I see the text?’ Beth took her phone out of her bag and handed it over.
‘I see, 6.40. Well, she sounds positive in this text, and she was planning to see you. Patrick doesn’t think she was on any medication for depression. Obviously, we will speak to her doctor.’