by Mary Grand
‘That’s Imogen’s husband, William: Dr Parker-Lewis who I mentioned.’
Patrick returned. He walked slowly as if each step was an effort. ‘Conor’s best left.’ He looked over at Sue. ‘He doesn’t want to come. Have you mentioned it to Beth yet?’
‘As I said, Patrick will be going to see Kathleen’s body at the hospital later,’ said Sue. ‘He was wondering if you would be willing to go with him.’
Beth tried to hide her feeling of horror. Images from TV dramas flashed through her head: bodies pulled out of freezer drawers or bags unzipped. Her stomach clenched. She put her hand to her mouth.
‘Sit down a minute,’ said Sue.
Beth took deep breaths. Slowly, the room stopped spinning.
‘I know it sounds difficult, but maybe I can reassure you. Kathleen will be lying on a bed. Her body will be covered.’
‘I will be able to touch her hands and her face—’ said Patrick.
‘They will make her look as peaceful as they can. Her injuries are not extensive,’ replied Sue.
‘Please come with me,’ said Patrick. ‘I need to say goodbye. I don’t feel I will believe this has happened until I see her.’
Beth felt guilty. ‘Of course. It would be a privilege.’
The morning passed, the police quietly searched rooms in the house. Patrick was asked questions occasionally, but he was handled gently. When Sue suggested she made sandwiches, Beth was surprised to realise that she was hungry. As Sue and Beth ate, Sue chatted easily to Beth, while Patrick sat apart, looking stunned.
It wasn’t long after lunch that Sue was told they could go to the hospital, and it was a shock to leave the safety of the house. The cars sounded too loud; the wind too harsh. Beth sat in the back of Sue’s car with Patrick. She found herself doing up his seat belt for him. As they drove along, Beth watched people going about their normal lives. She wanted to be with them, not in this nightmare.
As they pulled into the hospital car park, Patrick grabbed her hand. ‘It might be a mistake, mightn’t it? It might not be Kathleen. She could have gone for a walk, got lost. It could be someone else.’
Beth couldn’t understand the madness but squeezed his hand. They followed Sue. Beth averted her eyes from the sign announcing that they were headed for the mortuary. Inside, they were taken to a small room.
Sue went in with them. Beth nervously approached the bed, and then she saw Kathleen, lying so still, her face white, a horrible gash at the side of her head. The sheet had been pulled up to her chin; only one arm was resting on top of the sheet.
Patrick began to shake, grabbed the hand and held it. ‘She’s so cold; my poor Kathleen.’
Beth found her gaze fixated on Kathleen’s face. Only hours ago, she’d been alive, doing her mindfulness, feeling the fresh morning breeze, listening to the sea. One minute she’d been ‘greeting the dawn’, and then it ended. It was chilling: that infinitesimal line between life and death. And, if Kathleen had slipped over it so easily, why couldn’t she come back? Beth desperately wanted to shout, to wake her up, but in her heart she knew that however loud she shouted, Kathleen had gone. This was the end.
Beth squeezed her eyes tight. Her throat felt on fire. Shaking, she put her hand over her mouth. This had really happened.
After a time, she looked again at Kathleen and it was then the grief almost overwhelmed her. She stood, hardly breathing, holding in the emotions that charged around inside. Words started to form in her head. ‘I am so sorry, my lovely friend. We were meant to see each other tomorrow and now we will never talk again. I am so sorry that you were going through all that without me. I failed you. I don’t want our last night together to have been so full of stress and fear. Is it really a coincidence that you fell this morning, or did someone do something to hurt you? I don’t know what to think.
‘Sami doesn’t think I should tell the police what you told me, not until they’ve found out how you died. Maybe he’s right, but seeing you now, even if it was an accident, I don’t think I can just forget what you told me. The fear was real and someone at that house party made you feel that way. I promised last night to help you. Well, that promise still holds. I will try to find out who frightened you, who was so cruel. I’m scared you know. These are our friends. Oh God, Kathleen, why did it have to be one of them? I wish I knew more, but that’s my fault, I should have talked to you before last night. I’m so sorry. I’m going to miss you so much, I wish you’d known how much I loved you. The world is going to be colder, lonelier without you.’
Beth held her head. It was thumping. There was a boulder in her throat; her eyes burned with tears. Then she saw Patrick speaking softly over Kathleen. ‘You will always be mine now.’ It seemed to bring him comfort, but all the same she found the words unsettling.
Sue came close to them.
‘When will we be able to have a funeral?’ Patrick asked.
Beth felt shocked by the sudden return to practicalities.
‘That will depend on the coroner. There will have to be investigations and then he will say when the body can be released. I’ve been meaning to ask if you have a reason, such as your religion, that makes timing more pressing. I’m not promising anything, but the coroner tries to be sympathetic.’
Patrick shook his head. ‘No. Kathleen was brought up Catholic, but she went to a local Church of England church. We will have a simple service there.’
After they left the room Patrick held Beth’s hand tight. In the adjoining room an officer came over to them. ‘I wonder if I could check this with you, sir. We found it next to your wife’s body. It looked like it had fallen off. Do you recognise it?’
Patrick looked at a clear plastic bag in the officer’s hand. Inside was a butterfly necklace. ‘Yes. It’s Kathleen’s. I think she bought it before Christmas. It’s not valuable or anything but she wore it a lot.’
‘Thank you. We’ll hold on to it for now.’ The officer left them, and Beth and Patrick walked back out of the hospital.
Sue drove them back to the house where Patrick slumped onto the sofa, exhausted. Beth went upstairs to the bathroom, glad of some time alone; it had been so emotional, so painfully sad. She opened the window. This side of the house looked over towards Mottistone Down which was one of Beth’s favourite places to walk on the island; life somehow made more sense up there. She must go there with Ollie again soon. After washing her face with water, she left the bathroom. As she walked along the landing, she saw a closed door, and was drawn to it. It had a brass doorknob. She turned it slowly and opened the door.
5
Bedrooms intrigued Beth. They were shut off from the rest of the house, often untidier; dressing tables showed insecurities; wardrobes told stories of clothes worn and those that were not. In the drawers next to the bed were stuffed letters, test results, cards a person couldn’t face throwing away but had nowhere to put. Above all, bedrooms were private, secret places.
Kathleen and Patrick’s room was bright, light, feminine. Kathleen had clearly had a lot of say in the design of this room, unlike the rest of the house. From the ceiling hung the beautiful cut glass chandelier Patrick had mentioned; beautiful prints of butterflies were in light gold frames. The carpet was white; the bedding duck egg blue, with matching heavy curtains. Books about pharmacy were on a small shelf, alongside some Jackie Collins mega reads and photography books. On the dressing table expensive makeup and perfume were neatly arranged. On the bed sat a large collector’s Stein bear and neatly arranged embroidered cushions.
‘Why are you in Mum’s room?’
Beth spun round and faced Conor, tall, good looking, red haired like his mother. He wore a tight short sleeved black t-shirt which showed off the tattoos which covered both his arms. She felt herself blushing. ‘I’m sorry—’
‘You shouldn’t be in here.’
Beth backed away. ‘I’m sorry. How are you, Conor? I am so sorry about your mum.’
Conor didn’t move, his arms crossed defiantly. ‘You hate m
e for not coming to the hospital, don’t you?’
‘No. Of course not.’
‘I’m a coward. I don’t want to see her dead. Mum was more alive than most people. I know we argued, but that’s family and we worked it out in our own way. I loved her.’
‘Of course, and she loved you. She understood you’d found it difficult settling back here.’
Conor kicked the skirting board with the toe of his boot. ‘It’s all bullshit.’ He blinked tears.
‘It’s very hard for you.’
Conor clenched a fist, thumped the side of his leg. ‘Patrick’s a decent guy, whatever Dad says. He’ll be broken up by this. He was always worried about her, worried about losing her. I saw him checking her phone a few times and he was always asking her where she was going and when she’d be back.’
‘Did he?’
‘Yeah, and I saw him in here going through the drawers. My dad said she was always after other men.’
‘I don’t think that was true,’ said Beth quietly.
‘You didn’t know her properly. Lately something was up.’ Conor moved closer to her. ‘Last night, when everyone was here, I saw her read a text and then look up. She looked dead scared. I went over and asked her, but she said it was nothing and put her phone away.’
‘She didn’t tell you who the text was from?’ Beth waited, holding her breath.
‘No. She just was looking round the room.’
Beth watched Conor, now trying to pick the paint off the lintel.
‘Have you spoken to your father in Ireland today?’
‘He rang me. Uncle Sean had told him what happened, but I didn’t want to talk to him.’
‘Why not?’
Conor kicked the skirting board again and glared at Beth. ‘I just didn’t.’
Beth felt desperately sorry for him ‘When you’re ready, I think you should talk to someone. They can arrange it at school. You could ask your form teacher or there’s the Youth Centre. Ring them. It’s free.’
Conor face looked angry. ‘You think I’m mad?’
‘Of course not, but you are grieving. Talking to someone can be a lot of help. Honestly. I talked to someone when I lost my Mum.’
‘I don’t need anyone,’ he shouted, and walked away.
Beth stayed with Patrick for the afternoon until there was a knock at the door.
Sue answered it. Beth looked over to see a middle aged man in a smart suit. ‘I’m Patrick’s brother, Sean.’
Beth was amazed, both at the similarity and the difference between the brothers. They were the same height and build, but looked so different. Patrick had slicked back hair and tended to wear a leather jacket. They were replaced on his brother with a smart if dull barber cut and a suit: smart, conventional.
Patrick stood up and his brother came towards him. Sean held out a rectangular black box.
Patrick read the front. ‘Bushmills, twenty-one year old. Oh, Sean.’ He burst into tears and the men hugged.
Beth felt it was now time for family. She glanced at Sue, who seemed to understand.
‘I’ll be off now, Patrick.’
Sean came over to her. ‘Thank you so much. I’m so grateful I was over here. I’m going to stay as long as Pat needs me.’
‘That’s wonderful. Look, I’ll give you my mobile number,’ said Beth. ‘If there is anything—’ Sean took out his phone and they exchanged numbers.
‘Thank you for coming,’ said Patrick. His voice broke and Beth felt herself well up again. The framed photographs of Kathleen on the walls caught her eye, and, as if for the first time, she realised that she would never see her friend again.
Patrick followed her glance. ‘So beautiful, perfect. I never thought she’d stay with someone like me, but she did, right to the end.’
‘Remember where we are. Sami will be in touch soon.’
Sue walked with her out to her car. ‘Can I check one or two things?’
Beth groaned inwardly but put on a polite smile.
‘You gave me the names of everyone who was here last night. Is there anyone, apart from yourself, who was particularly close to Kathleen?’
‘My husband, Sami, has known and worked with her for a long time. She started working with him at the pharmacy soon after she and Patrick moved over to the island about ten years ago.’
‘What was her role there?’
‘She was on the counter. She was studying to be a technician. She had lectures at the South London Academy on the first Tuesday and Wednesday of every month, so she went last week.’
‘Did she travel each day for this?’
‘No, she stayed in London on Tuesday evenings, actually at Alex’s house. You know, Sami’s new partner.’
‘She stayed with Alex?’
‘No, at his house. He wasn’t there. Kathleen originally stayed with his wife, Amy, but she died a few months ago. After that Kathleen was staying by herself. Alex was here on the island every Tuesday evening. He covered for Sami, who also goes to London on Tuesdays and Wednesdays, but he goes every week. He lectures in King’s College and stays at the college on the Tuesday night.’
‘Was that on Kathleen’s course?’
‘No, Kathleen’s course was at the London Academy and that was only once a month.’
‘I see. So, last week, as it was the start of the month, Kathleen went to the London Academy on Tuesday and Wednesday and stayed at Alex’s house. Sami went on the same days but to King’s College and he stayed there on the Tuesday night. Alex, his new partner, was down here, covering for him like he does every week.’
‘Exactly.’
‘So, if I’m right, Kathleen would have worked with Alex the weeks she was not on her course?’
‘That’s right, yes.’
‘Right. It’s handy to know how well people knew Kathleen.’
‘Oh, I should add that Kathleen was working her notice. She’d decided to leave the pharmacy a few weeks ago, and she’d also decided to give up her course.’
‘Really. Why?’
‘She told me she wanted a fresh start. I guessed she meant with the new house and things.’
Sue glanced back at the house. ‘And would you say Kathleen’s marriage was a happy one?’
‘I’m sure it was. I think she wanted to spend more time with Patrick and, of course, she has her son, Conor, here as well.’
‘That’s helpful. Thank you.’ Sue closed her book. ‘I’ll give you my card. If you think of anything, this is my direct number.’
Beth took the card and put it in her bag.
It was mid afternoon when she arrived home, but it felt as if she’d been away for days.
Sami returned from work, came straight to the kitchen, and slumped into a chair. ‘How are you? How did it go?’
Beth sat opposite him. ‘Patrick, as you’d expect, is in pieces. His brother Sean arrived this afternoon. He was over on the mainland on business, so I guess that was lucky.’
‘I remember meeting Sean a few years back; nice chap; yes, he’ll be practical, supportive.’
‘When I arrived at Patrick’s I was met by a woman who used to work at the school and is now a police officer. Her name’s Sue and she’s Patrick’s Police Liaison Officer. It was good for Patrick to have her there. She kept explaining things. I think she’ll be a lot of support for him. It was horrible seeing all the police in the garden, in these suits, everything cordoned off.’
‘Did you tell this Sue about your conversation with Kathleen?’
‘Not really. I said she seemed on edge, that she was worried she might have upset someone who was at the party, but I didn’t go any further.’
‘Good.’
‘She was there with her notebook. It made me realise how official everything was.’
‘Exactly.’
‘Sue asked me and Patrick about Kathleen’s state of mind. I guess, like you said, they have to look at everything at this stage. I told them I didn’t think Kathleen sounded like she wanted to end her life, but s
he wanted to make some changes to it.’
Sami took off his glasses and rubbed his red, tired eyes.
‘One thing happened that I wasn’t prepared for, though,’ said Beth. ‘Patrick asked me to go to the mortuary with him. We went this afternoon.’
‘Oh goodness. Were you all right?’
‘It was desperately sad. Kathleen still looked beautiful. There was a gash on her forehead where she’d fallen. I’ve never been to a mortuary. It was weird, tucked away in the hospital. I didn’t want Kathleen to be there.’ Beth covered her face with her hands, and Sami moved his chair closer to her.
‘How was it at the pharmacy?’ she asked.
‘Awful. Even people who didn’t need anything came in. No one could believe it had happened. I had to go through it so many times; it made me realise how loved Kathleen was. She always went out of her way for people, would take prescriptions round to them, give them time. Ironically, this morning was the kind of situation she’d have handled well. Alex was a big help. He’s not exactly touchy feely but he quietly kept everything together.’
‘Actually, I can imagine that. He’s reliable but not very chatty, is he?’
‘No. He’s quite introverted, but for all that he cares deeply about people. You can see that, and he’s very good at his job. I’m lucky he was prepared to come here permanently. He’s already implemented a lot of the changes asked for when we failed the inspection last Thursday. I’m hopeful the inspectors will be satisfied when they come back.’
Beth turned to him. ‘You’ve hardly mentioned that. You’ve never failed one before, have you? Will it be all right? What was wrong?’
Sami got up and put the kettle on. ‘The problem appeared to be that we were unable to account for some of the controlled medication, things like methadone and morphine.’
‘That sounds serious.’
‘It would be if we somehow lost a large quantity of them. As it is, the numbers are small and it could be a recording issue. The inspectors like a clean audit trail and Alex has been working hard to make sure the whole system is transparent. We’re also going to change some of our routines: more people will be checking at each stage. We will model ourselves on some of the best practice Alex has seen. It’s a good thing really. We should have been more on our game.’