The awful Christine has gone and Penny has cooked supper, which is obviously good of her, but, truth to tell, she’s not the best cook in the world. Yvonne dreads to think what kind of state the kitchen is in. But she can’t worry about that now. Her thoughts are drifting around in quite a pleasant way. She hasn’t felt this relaxed for a long time.
Penny ordered one of those recipe boxes, where they give you all the ingredients and tell you what to do. As a result she’s produced a passable chicken casserole. Yvonne stares down at the plate in front of her. It really doesn’t look too bad. The problem is if she tries to eat anything she’ll probably throw up. And being sick is awful. Not to mention the mess.
Her gaze skates round the table. The children are sitting in their usual places. Has she told them about Greg? She’s been meaning to. Imogen is on her left. She’s nine and such a sweet child, she never gives Yvonne any trouble. The twins, Harry and Lucas, are on the other side of the table but Aidan’s place remains empty. Where is Aidan?
Penny is facing her at the other end of the table. That’s usually her place. Near the kitchen door. But today Penny is being mother. The very idea of her sister in a maternal role amuses Yvonne.
‘Do you think I should take a plate up to Aidan?’ says Penny.
Now she remembers. They had a small spat. He was watching her again and she told him not to. Told him to go away. Possibly she was a bit harsh. Now he won’t come out of his room.
‘No,’ says Yvonne briskly. ‘It’s teenage nonsense. If he wants to eat he can come down here and do it in a civilised fashion.’
Teenager! It’s used as an excuse for everything.
‘Darling,’ says Penny gently. ‘Don’t you think that maybe, in the circumstances, we should cut him a little slack?’
Circumstances? Oh yes, the circumstances. Greg is dead. For some reason that’s the thing that keeps slipping out of her mind. He’s gone! But, yes, she did tell them. This morning. Now she remembers. Imogen cried.
Yvonne takes another sip of wine.
Imogen forks the chicken around her plate, she’s hardly touched it.
Yvonne meets her daughter’s gaze. She’s such a neat, pretty child. Or she can be when she doesn’t frown like that.
‘Don’t be troublesome, Imo,’ says Yvonne. ‘Auntie Penny’s made us a lovely dinner. Eat it.’
‘But you’re not.’
‘That’s because I’m finishing my wine. Then I’ll eat it.’
Penny gets up from her place at the other end of the table and walks out into the hall. Yvonne can hear her calling up the stairs.
‘Aidan! Supper’s ready. Come and eat it before it gets cold.’
Penny returns to the table and picks up her napkin.
Harry and Lucas haven’t had any difficulty clearing their plates. They’re only six. Do they know what death means? Probably not. Their father’s gone but they’ll always have each other and Yvonne is glad about that. Now Harry is jabbing his brother in the arm and both boys are giggling. It occurs to Yvonne that her daughter, her lovely daughter, rarely giggles. Girls should giggle.
Penny smiles at the boys. ‘And you two can behave yourselves,’ she says. She glances up the table towards her sister. She seems really tense. Why can’t she have a drink and relax?
Yvonne chuckles and raises her glass in a toast. ‘You tell them, Pen,’ she says. ‘You be the mother and fucking tell them!’
Yvonne can feel a stillness around her. A deep silence. Everyone seems to be watching her. Why?
Imogen is staring at her. Suddenly she puts Yvonne in mind of her own mother. Pursed lips, that disapproving scowl.
‘You have no right to judge me. No right!’ she shouts.
Imogen flinches. Silly girl. Yvonne would never hit her. She’s never hit her children. And she told Greg, if he ever raised his hand to them, she would leave.
Suddenly Penny is right next to her, tugging at her elbow. ‘Listen, darling,’ she says. ‘Why don’t you go and sit in the conservatory while I give the children some ice cream? Would you like some ice cream, boys? I think we’ve got toffee pecan or chocolate.’
‘Chocolate!’ say Harry and Lucas in unison.
Yvonne nods. She is possibly a little pissed. ‘I’m sorry,’ she says to no one in particular.
Penny is trying to haul her to her feet when Aidan walks into the room. His face is pale, his hair limp and greasy. He’s wearing an awful rag of a T-shirt and baggy shorts.
‘Sit down and have something to eat, darling,’ says Penny. ‘I’ve kept a plate hot for you.’
Aidan is staring at his mother. ‘I’m not hungry,’ he says.
‘You have to eat something,’ says Penny.
‘Can I have a glass of wine?’ he says.
‘Absolutely, darling,’ says Yvonne with a shrug. ‘Your father’s left us a whole fucking wine cellar. I’m never going to get through it on my own.’
Aidan walks over to the sideboard and takes out a long-stemmed glass. He picks up the bottle from the table and fills it. Penny sighs and shakes her head.
‘At least have something to eat with it, Aidan,’ she says.
‘If he’s not hungry, he’s not hungry,’ says Yvonne.
Aidan sits down next to Imogen. She gives her brother a nervous sidelong glance. He smiles at her and pulls her into a hug.
‘All right, kiddo?’ he says.
‘Is Daddy really dead?’ says Imogen.
‘Yes,’ says her brother.
Yvonne is aware of her son’s eyes resting on her. Such a soft boy, never critical. Except for the watching. She regrets arguing with him.
She looks at her daughter. Such a smart little thing. And the twins. Those two sweet little boys. But such a handful. She smiles at them all fondly.
Greg kept on at her. He wanted more children, another son. Yvonne didn’t. Aidan and Imogen, they were enough for her. One of each, just right. But her husband disagreed. He threw away her birth control pills. He told her not to be stupid. When Yvonne found out she was pregnant again, she was close to despair. Then she discovered she was pregnant with twins, which made the whole thing worse. The delivery was by Caesarean. Greg absented himself, couldn’t stand the sight of blood. But Penny was there. Penny held her hand. After that she was ill for a long time. Then came the OCD and Dr Davenport.
Yvonne never imagined she’d end up with four children. But then what did she imagine? She wanted to be married, she always wanted to be married. Surely it’s what every girl wants. But you have to pick the right man. That’s the trick.
Penny returns from the kitchen – Yvonne didn’t even notice she’d disappeared – with a plate of food and puts it down in front of Aidan. She smiles at her nephew.
‘Come on,’ she says, ‘you must be starving. Have something to eat.’
Aidan looks at his aunt. ‘What happens now?’ he says.
‘What do you mean?’ says Penny.
‘You know what I mean,’ says Aidan. ‘What the hell are we supposed to do? What am I supposed to do? Look at her. She’s absolutely drunk as a bloody skunk. So what do we do now?’
Yvonne tries to focus on them. They’re talking as if she’s not there.
Penny reaches out and touches his arm. ‘We just need to give her some time, darling,’ she says softly.
‘How’s that going to work? The police know what happened to him, or they suspect,’ says Aidan. ‘I phoned Granddad and asked about it, but he wouldn’t tell me the details. Why not?’
‘Okay. You want the details?’ says Yvonne. ‘Someone bashed his bloody head in. That’s why Barry didn’t tell you. Made a real mess apparently. I suppose they must’ve really hated him. Can’t imagine why.’
Imogen starts to snivel.
Yvonne pats her daughter’s hand. ‘It’s all right, Imo,’ she says. ‘Everything’s going to be fine.’ She takes another mouthful of wine and paints on a smile.
Aidan stares at his mother in horror. Then he turns to Penny and says, ‘
We have to do something.’
Twenty-Five
Friday, 7 p.m.
Berrycombe is basking in a burst of early evening sunshine. Megan leads Ruby by the hand. Amber walks beside them. Kyle is a few paces ahead. He has Scout on a leash and the enthusiastic dog is towing him along. They stop outside the new pizza restaurant, which has recently opened on the harbourside.
‘Well,’ says Megan. ‘What do you reckon? Shall we get some pizzas to take away and go and sit on the breakwater and eat them?’
Amber nods. All three children are uncharacteristically subdued.
‘So what does anyone fancy?’ says Megan. She’s trying to sound upbeat. She knows she’s failing.
‘Whatever,’ says Amber with a shrug. She appears to be speaking for all of them.
‘I’ll get a couple of the large margaritas,’ says Megan. ‘Then we can share them. Okay?’
‘And a Coke?’ says Kyle, hopefully.
‘And Coke,’ Megan says with a smile.
As Megan queues at the takeaway counter, she glances out of the window at the three children. Except Amber is not a child, she’s fourteen and old enough to understand exactly what’s going on between her parents.
Things were already getting fraught when Megan hustled them out of the house; she wanted to give her sister and brother-in-law a chance to talk in private. Mark is a reasonable man. He loves his wife and he loves his family. Megan keeps reminding herself of this. But it’s going to be a tough conversation. A catalogue of bad decisions made by Debbie, followed by a raft of unlucky coincidences, have created a situation which would test the love and tolerance of any reasonable man. It doesn’t help that Debbie has wound herself up into an emotional turmoil. She’s angry and guilty in equal parts. But however much Megan loves them, she’s an outsider. It’s their marriage, they have to sort it out. She can only watch and wait.
She comes out of the restaurant, carrying two large pizza boxes and four cardboard cups of Coke. Scout’s nose twitches. At least the dog is happy, thinks Megan. But it’s clear that no one else is.
Megan hands out the drinks. Ruby clutches her hand as they walk along the harbour wall towards the breakwater. It’s a glorious spring evening, the tide is high, a family of swans is bobbing around in the inner harbour. A few people are still lounging on the decks of their boats, catching the last few rays of sun. A couple of lads on jet skis are cruising back from the outer harbour towards their moorings.
When they reach the beginning of the breakwater, Kyle hands the dog’s leash to his sister and hoists himself up onto the wall. Megan lifts Ruby up to sit beside him. Amber perches on the end of a nearby bench with the dog at her feet. Megan opens the first pizza box. She separates out a couple of slices and hands one each to Kyle and Ruby. She offers a third slice to Amber. But Amber shakes her head.
‘Do you think they’ll get a divorce?’ says Amber.
‘No,’ says Megan. She extracts another slice of pizza for herself, folds it over and starts to eat it. It’s a messy business. She ends up with tomato sauce running down her chin. She wipes it away with the back of her hand.
‘Are you sure?’ says Amber. She’s glaring. The look is full of confusion but also accusation.
‘Yes, I’m sure,’ says Megan.
‘Mum’s in a right state. She says he’ll never forgive her. But what has she actually done?’ says Amber. ‘And why did she have to give the cops her phone?’
Megan takes another bite of pizza. She gave her boss a blowjob for money. There’s no way she can answer the question so she evades it.
‘She may think that he’ll never forgive her,’ says Megan, ‘but I actually have more faith in your father. He loves you all and he loves her.’ For better or worse? How many marriages manage that? Hers certainly didn’t.
Kyle has devoured his pizza. Megan hands him another slice. He tears a piece off the corner and tosses it to Scout. The dog gobbles it up greedily.
‘Kyle,’ says Amber, ‘that’s so stupid. He shouldn’t be eating pizza.’
‘Why not?’ says Kyle. ‘We’re eating it. Why shouldn’t he?’
‘’Cause he’s a dog, you dipshit,’ says Amber viciously. ‘It’s bad for him.’
‘You’re the dipshit,’ says Kyle.
Megan raises her palm. ‘Okay, you two,’ she says. ‘That’s enough of that. This is the last thing we need at the moment.’
‘Well,’ says Amber. ‘He can’t just feed crap to the dog like that. It’s stupid and it’s not fair on Scout.’
‘How can it be crap if we’re eating it?’ says Kyle.
Megan looks at the two of them. The anger bubbling up inside them is bound to find a way out. Two confused and frightened kids, who are waiting to see if their world is about to fall apart. Where else is all that pent-up emotion supposed to go?
‘Listen,’ says Megan. ‘I know we’re all finding this a bit difficult. But the two of you need to calm down and stop squabbling.’ Is she sounding more like a cop than a parent? She’s trying for something in between.
‘She started it,’ says Kyle.
‘I don’t care who started it,’ says Megan. ‘I’m finishing it, okay.’
They all lapse into silence. Scout licks his lips and looks up at Kyle hopefully. Kyle huffs, jumps down from the wall and strokes the dog’s head.
Megan wonders if she should say something more. But what? She’s not exactly sure what Debbie may or may not have told them. How do you say to your children: ‘I’ve been arrested and accused of murder?’ The reality is you probably don’t.
Megan digs in her pocket and brings out some clean tissues. She takes one of them and wipes Ruby’s mouth. Ruby pushes her hand away.
‘I’m not a baby,’ says Ruby indignantly. Even she is tetchy and not her usual sunny self.
‘I know you’re not,’ says Megan. ‘But you don’t want to get tomato sauce all over your T-shirt, do you?’
Megan turns to Amber. ‘You sure you don’t want any pizza?’
Amber shakes her head.
Megan takes a deep breath. She knows she has to take the plunge.
‘What did Mum say to you when you got home from school?’ says Megan.
Amber shrugs. ‘She didn’t really say anything. I asked her what the matter was and she said she was really sorry. I said sorry for what, but she wouldn’t say.’
Amber is looking straight at her. Megan feels the weight of the responsibility. She must find a way to get them all through this. But they have different levels of understanding. Amber: alert, critical and ready to pounce. Kyle: avoiding eye contact and wary. Ruby: trusting but terrified.
‘Well,’ says Megan. ‘This is a rather difficult situation to explain. You know that your mum was doing a cleaning job at that new block of flats that they’re building on the top of the hill. The man that she was working for was killed.’
‘We know that,’ says Amber impatiently. ‘And Mum found him. That happened the other day.’
‘His kid goes to our school,’ says Kyle. ‘Her name’s Imogen and she’s a right snobby little cow.’
‘That’s not a very nice thing to say about her,’ says Megan. ‘And I’m sure you don’t really mean it.’ Playing for time. Get on with it.
Kyle just shrugs.
‘I’m sure he does,’ says Amber sourly.
‘The thing is,’ says Megan, ‘before he died, he and your mum had a bit of an argument about money. And sometimes arguments about money can get quite nasty and complicated.’
‘We’re broke,’ says Kyle. ‘That’s why Dad has to go away to work. On the wind farm.’
‘Yes,’ says Megan. ‘And it’s why your mother has several different jobs.’
‘I don’t get it,’ says Amber. ‘Why would Mum having a row about money with this contractor she was working for, lead to a big problem between her and Dad? It doesn’t make sense to me.’
Megan sighs. Amber is too old and too smart to be fobbed off with the simple story.
; ‘Because she had a row with him and because he was found dead, there’s some suspicion that your mother might have been involved,’ says Megan.
Kyle and Ruby look at her blankly.
But Amber says, ‘Do you suspect her?’
‘No, of course I don’t,’ says Megan. ‘I know my sister and she would never harm anyone.’ Sounds convincing, but is it?
Amber is scanning her. The kid is way too smart.
‘Then who suspects her?’ says Amber. ‘The police?’
‘It’s complicated. We have to prove her alibi,’ says Megan. ‘But I’m trying to help sort that out. And now your dad’s home, things are going to be easier.’
‘Is he going to stay at home?’ asks Kyle.
‘Maybe for a bit,’ says Megan.
‘Whoopee!’ says Kyle.
Amber frowns and stands up. She tugs on Scout’s leash.
‘Mum needs us, and we’re sitting here, eating stupid pizza,’ she says. ‘I’m going home.’
Twenty-Six
Saturday, 7.10 a.m.
Megan is in her pyjamas, making herself coffee and toast. Her brother-in-law wanders into the kitchen in a T-shirt and boxers. When she and the children returned to the house the previous evening, Debbie was tight-lipped and Mark had disappeared altogether. All Debbie knew was that he’d gone to the pub. Megan did hear him return in the early hours, clattering around, shushing the dog.
She smiles at him. He looks haggard and hungover and appears to have slept on the sofa.
‘Coffee?’ she says.
‘Cheers,’ he replies. ‘Been swimming?’
‘I was going to. Decided I didn’t have the energy.’ She refills the coffee maker with water and slots a pod in. It starts to gurgle and deliver a fresh stream of coffee into a cup. She wishes she had gone swimming. But she spent a restless night trying to solve other people’s problems and getting nowhere fast. On top of all that she kept seeing a small body washed up on the beach. Hassan. But what if it was Ruby or Kyle? Or even Amber?
Close to the Bone: An addictive crime thriller with edge-of-your-seat suspense (Detective Megan Thomas) Page 10