by Mary Grand
‘Yes. I told you, that skiing holiday was never meant to be.’ Imogen sat back down, breathed deeply. ‘Still, that’s all in the past and, of course, it’s nothing compared to what’s happened now. Tell me about Kathleen. She fell on to the beach, didn’t she? Do you know who found her?’
‘It was a neighbour walking her dog.’
‘Poor woman. After all those crime programmes, I swore I’d never have a dog. It’s always the dog walker who finds the body. You know, when Patrick said on Sunday about her taking part of the fence down it sounded pretty reckless.’
‘The police had all that end of the garden cordoned off when I went around.’
‘They were bound to. Presumably they’ll check no one went out there and pushed her off. There are some weird people around, you know. I’m always going on at Elsa not to wander off into the woods around us on her own. Having said that, I can’t imagine they are seriously considering that for Kathleen. It must have been an accident.’
‘They were asking me about her state of mind.’
‘I suppose they have to check. William said the police talked to him yesterday evening. He told them he considered her vulnerable, but that she wasn’t on antidepressants or anything.’
Beth noted that William was obviously a lot more relaxed about breaking confidentiality than Sami was. Sami wouldn’t tell her if someone had gone in to buy a pack of plasters.
Imogen continued. ‘Personally, I would have said it was highly unlikely Kathleen took her own life. At the end of the day she had what she wanted: that house, Patrick totally besotted with her. Even her son had come back to live with her. The thing with someone like Kathleen was, she may have cried on everyone’s shoulders, but she knew exactly how to get what she wanted.’
Beth grimaced. ‘That’s a bit tough. She’d had hard times. Her first husband treated her badly, and Patrick was so ill when they came over here. She was always there for him, and she was a good friend to me.’
Imogen rubbed her forehead. ‘Of course. Sorry, I didn’t mean it to sound like a criticism. What I meant was that Kathleen was a lot stronger and more determined than people gave her credit for.’ She stifled a yawn. ‘Sorry: not slept well since Ofsted.’
‘Well done, by the way.’
‘It went well, but it was exhausting, and now there’s the changes to the SATs which the teachers blame on me. What with that and parents… the kids are the least of my worries. But anyway, sorry. I shouldn’t have said those things about Kathleen.’ She seemed to crumple back into her seat. ‘I don’t feel quite myself lately, don’t feel quite on top of things. It’s not like me to forget things, lose things.’ She paused.
‘Your job is enormously stressful,’ said Beth, gently.
Imogen opened her mouth to speak but then pushed herself to sit more upright with her hands. ‘No more stressful than a lot. I can obviously cope, but everyone gets a bit tired.’
‘Of course,’ said Beth. She glanced over at a few family photos on Imogen’s desk.
‘That’s a lovely photograph of Elsa. She’s getting to look more and more like you.’
‘Patrick took it. He was showing Elsa different techniques for taking portraits. I loved this one, and so, surprisingly, did Elsa. She had a few prints taken.’
Beth looked at another photo. This was Imogen and William with Elsa, but also an older couple Beth had never met.
‘Another one I’ve not seen,’ she said. ‘Is that your mum and dad?’
Imogen nodded briskly. ‘Yes, a friend of my father’s took it when we went over at Christmas. It worked out well, we patched a few things up.’
‘It’s good to have you all together. Layla told me they bought Elsa the car for her eighteenth last November.’
‘That is what all the rows had been about. Our present had been paying for driving lessons. Anyway, my parents talked to William, said they wanted to buy Elsa a car. The first I knew about it was when William and Elsa picked one up from the garage.’
‘They never told you?’
‘Nope; they all kept it a secret from me, they knew I’d say no. I was so angry with them all, it was all I could do not to send the thing back. Anyway, eventually William talked me round and I let Elsa keep it. It goes against my better judgement, though.’
‘I think you’re quite capable of putting the brakes on when you want to.’
‘Thank you,’ said Imogen. ‘But I’ve learned in five years of marriage that I need to make a few compromises. Elsa adores William, although he is inclined to spoil her. He just bought her a brand new phone and her other one was only a year old. I wonder what Kathleen’s boy, Conor, will do now?’
‘He either stays with Patrick and goes to college here in September or goes back to Ireland.’
Imogen shrugged. ‘At least that would get him away from your Layla.’
Beth blinked. ‘She’s too young for him. He’s had a lot more life experience than her. I don’t want her hanging around with him.’
‘I agree, but take it from me, don’t let her know what you feel. If my parents hadn’t been so dead against Elsa’s father, I would never have gone off with him.’ Imogen looked over at the photograph. ‘They sent me to the most expensive boarding school, and I got pregnant by a chap from the local pub, a lorry driver with tattoos.’
Beth grinned. ‘He couldn’t be more of a contrast to William, a doctor, and weren’t his parents some kind of old money? That would have impressed your parents.’
‘That’s right. Shame they are not still alive. Mum would have loved showing off about them. My father is hoping William will join his team sailing at Cowes this year.’
‘Impressive.’
Imogen smiled, seeming more relaxed at last. ‘Now, back to the present. Have you got that final unit in yet? You’re going to miss the deadline for applications for teacher training this September.’
‘I know, but I don’t want to rush it.’
‘No one can accuse you of that. You need to get on, get motivated.’
Imogen’s phone rang again and she answered it. ‘I think I need to speak to them. Hold on. I’ll come out.’
Imogen turned back to Beth. ‘Sorry.’
Beth stood up. ‘It’s OK.’
As they walked to the door Imogen said, ‘I meant to ask you. Are you and the family free a week Sunday for lunch?’
‘I think so.’
‘Come around to us then. I thought it would be nice to have a get together for Alex, now he’s here permanently. He must find that flat depressing after his beautiful London house.’
‘Kathleen told me it was elegant. You and William stayed with him for a few nights earlier in the year, didn’t you?’
‘William, Elsa and I had a long weekend with him at New Year: me and Elsa shopping, William doing his social history research down in the East End. I thought Alex might enjoy some company, and we did find we had books in common, but he kept himself to himself; poor man was totally bereft. I’ve tried inviting him round since we came back, but he’s something of an introvert, isn’t he? He did invite us to his caravan over here once. He has an amazing pitch, just by the cliffs. Elsa was talking about doing some night-time photography out there and he very kindly said we were welcome to go out there when he wasn’t using it, even gave us a spare key. We’ve never taken him up on that, but it was a kind thought.’
Beth moved to go, when Imogen touched her arm lightly.
‘Beth, try to put Sunday evening out of your head. Remember the Kathleen you knew before that, eh?’
As Beth walked home, she considered how much had happened to Kathleen in December. She’d told Beth it was a terrible month. Of course, there had been the death of Alex’s wife, the skiing holiday didn’t sound much fun and then there was ‘the big mistake’. Beth thought then about Imogen. The level of Imogen’s bitterness towards Kathleen had shocked her. Was is possible William had had an affair with Kathleen? Beth dismissed it immediately: Kathleen would never do that, and no way would Wil
liam be that stupid. Apart from the fact she was sure he loved Imogen; Kathleen was his patient: he could lose his job. Still, it had rattled Imogen. All that talk of Kathleen ringing William, being needy, no angel. Was that jealousy? Even if it was possible Imogen had been the person threatening Kathleen, what would Kathleen have known about Imogen? Imogen was the epitome of an upright citizen; harsh, self-righteous at times, but the last person you’d imagine having some terrible secret.
Beth remembered she’d promised to go to yoga that evening. Maybe she would get a chance to chat to Gemma. If anyone could fill her in on gossip, Gemma could.
9
That evening Beth went into the community room and tucked herself at the back of the class. She wore comfy jogging bottoms and a baggy t-shirt, nothing like the outfits of some of her friends. Kathleen was always in the latest gear but at least had never taken it too seriously. They’d both had a laugh when Gemma had added, ‘and for those of you who would like to go a bit further—’ She looked to the front, saw Gemma watching her, and was grateful for the knowing smile.
The session started. Beth found it good to have her mind taken up with the multitasking of yoga, remembering how to breathe as well as the positions she needed to try to do.
It was the end section that Beth and, she guessed, many others were waiting for. From the side of the room they all collected blankets. Some had even brought a pillow and a sleeping bag. Complete overkill as far as Beth was concerned, this wasn’t a sleep over: it was a ten minute relaxation at the end of the class.
Beth picked up her cardigan and lay down on her mat. The rather depressing music had started. She lay back and let her mind drift to her safe place. A house stood among fields, there was a little black cat, Ollie, hens and a garden that miraculously looked after itself while she sat on her swing seat reading. It was while she was turning the page of her book that she was brought back to the present by the sound of a gently tinkling bell. Reluctantly, they all started to sit up. Gemma at the front bowed to them. ‘Namaste,’ she said. The class reciprocated and started to roll up their mats.
‘Thanks, everyone. See you next Monday.’
Beth suddenly saw something glistening. She blinked, and then she saw her. More clearly than any person in the room, she saw Kathleen, who stood in front of Beth in that long white dress, pashmina round her shoulders. On her forehead was a gash, but her eyes told the same story of terror and dread she’d seen on Kathleen’s face when she had left her the night before she died. Beth reached out, her hand shaking, but in an instant Kathleen was gone.
Beth’s hands were shaking. She couldn’t move her feet. Someone touched her arm.
‘Are you all right?’
She blinked and saw Gemma. Her mouth trembled. ‘I saw her—’
Gemma put her arm around Beth. ‘Come and have a drink with me. It’s quiet. They can get me if they need me.’
They went through to the small pub part of the Hub, which was as quiet as Gemma had said. Beth waited until Gemma returned with two large glasses of red wine.
‘There you are,’ she said. ‘You thought you saw…?’
Beth picked up the glass, her hand still shaking slightly. ‘Kathleen. I’m sorry. Honestly, I think I’m going insane. I’ve never had anything like that before, not even after Mum died. I don’t believe in ghosts or anything. I know you do, but I never have.’
‘But something happened. I saw your face.’
‘I don’t know. I don’t understand.’
Gemma looked at her seriously. ‘Do you think Kathleen was trying to tell you something?’
‘She didn’t speak but, apart from the gash on her head, she had that same look on her face that she had on Sunday.’
‘And that was?’
Beth took a long sip of her wine. How to describe that look? ‘Fear, terror.’
‘Really? Whatever was the matter? I thought she’d have been over the moon celebrating her stunning new house.’
‘She had other things on her mind. We had this heavy conversation.’
Gemma picked up her glass but before she took a sip she asked, ‘Did she, um, did she mention a mistake she’d made?’
Beth grabbed the word. ‘She did, but she wouldn’t tell me what. Do you know what it was?’
Gemma shifted in her seat. ‘Ah, I thought she’d told you.’
‘No, but please tell me what it was.’
‘I don’t know. People talk to me here; a few pints and they tend to open up, a bit like a confessional. I don’t repeat much.’
‘But if it’s about Kathleen I need to know. Please. I’m desperate.’
Gemma took a deep breath. ‘OK.’
Beth waited.
‘It must have been around New Year. Kathleen was in here with Patrick for a meal. She walked past me to the toilets; she looked pretty upset. When she didn’t reappear for a while, I went in to see if she was all right. I found her in a right state, crying hysterically. She grabbed my arm and started to ramble on, about being her fault, what a mess… Well, I made an educated guess and asked her if it was a man, and it was like the flood gates opened.’
‘A man?’
Gemma nodded. ‘She said she’d slept with some man a few weeks before Christmas, but it was a terrible mistake.’
‘Kathleen had an affair!’ Beth sat back, her mouth open.
‘I wouldn’t call it an affair, more like a one night stand by the sound of it.’
‘But all the same – are you sure she meant it? She could have just been drunk—’
‘I don’t think she was that drunk, to be honest. No, she was serious. She came in the next day, told me she’d been talking rubbish, but she knew what she’d said and had meant it. She’d never so much as hinted to you about it?’
‘We’d not talked for a while. As you know, she’d stopped coming to yoga. I can’t believe it.’
Gemma paused, then said, ‘Is it really that unbelievable that someone like Kathleen had a fling? It didn’t surprise me at all. I think she was pretty insecure and could have been looking for someone to reassure her.’
‘But Kathleen had always told me how much she disapproved of any kind of infidelity, she called it a grave sin. I guess that was her Catholic upbringing. Anyway, why would she be insecure? Patrick adored her. Look at all those photos of her at their house: she was stunning.’
‘But when I visited the old house, the pictures I saw, and there were loads and they were huge, they were all of Kathleen years ago. If I was Kathleen, I’d feel that was the me he loved, and the pressure to stay like that would be soul destroying. No, if she found someone who told her how lovely she looked now, someone who made her feel good just as she was, well, she might have liked that.’
‘But she saw it as a mistake?’
‘I think she was deeply ashamed of what she did. I am sure she didn’t love the man, or I suppose he could have also been married?’
‘Have you any idea who it was?’
‘Nope. I assumed it was someone at the academy in London.’
‘And do you think Patrick had any idea?’
Gemma rubbed her lips together. ‘I don’t think so, but he was extra attentive after that visit. But I could have imagined that. I get bored sometimes and weave these intricate stories in my head about the people in here,’ said Gemma, smiling.
Beth sat twisting her wedding ring on her finger. This must be the mistake Kathleen had been talking about. Gemma’s explanation of someone at the academy made sense. So, who would have known? Who used it to have a hold over her?
‘You look ever so upset,’ said Gemma, suddenly serious. ‘Sorry, I shouldn’t have told you. Don’t let it spoil your memory of her. It was a mistake, that’s all. She told me how much she loved Patrick. Even if he did suspect something, all he wanted was to make their marriage work. These things happen in marriages.’
Beth sipped her wine. ‘It’s all right. I’m glad you told me. It’s like I’m trying to put together the pieces of the puzzle of wha
t Kathleen said to me on Sunday, and I think this must be part of what was worrying her.’
She felt Gemma scrutinising her, as if she was trying to work her out. ‘Did Kathleen say anything else to you?’
Beth glanced around. There was no point in holding back now. The pub was nearly empty, but she lowered her voice. ‘It’s complicated. Kathleen told me someone was using this mistake, presumably the affair, to kind of blackmail her. Not for money but to stop Kathleen telling people about something she knew about them.’
‘My God! Who was it?’
‘I don’t know, she was too scared to tell me names. What Kathleen also told me on Sunday was that she’d informed this person that she wasn’t going to hide things any more. She was very scared of this person but had decided she was going to expose them. Obviously, she was prepared for them to tell the world about her affair.’
‘How did the person react?’
‘They were very angry. Kathleen was scared witless as to what this person might do, but she was determined, with my help, to have everything out in the open.’
‘She told you all this on Sunday evening?’
‘That’s right.’
‘And the next morning she died?’ said Gemma. ‘Do they know yet exactly what happened that morning?’
‘It’s early days. It looks like Kathleen was down the garden doing her mindfulness. She’d taken a part of the fence away. For some reason the hens got out. She was trying to stop them running over the cliff and fell herself.’
‘So, it looks like an accident?’
‘I think so. The police were looking for signs of anyone else down there, but they said so far, they’d not found anything. Also, they’ve asked about her state of mind. I don’t think there’s an indication of her taking her own life.’
‘I see. Is there anything you know of that might suggest it wasn’t an accident?’
‘There are one or two things, but I don’t know if they really mean anything. Take the hens. Kathleen told me she would never let the hens out until a proper fence was up, so how did they get out? Then there’s Kathleen’s phone. The police can’t find it or the headphones she used to listen to her mindfulness app on.’