Harriet pulled her coat tighter about her shoulders and quickened her pace. Shadows lengthened around her as she approached Eloise and June’s beach hideaway on Hiddley Drive. The house stood back from the road, a wilderness of bushes and trees blocking a clear view into the home. Nestled, secure. She paused a moment looking out across the Slapton Ley Lake and the waves of the beach beyond. Stunning view from here, she thought. Harriet checked her watch, almost four, close enough for her appointment with her client’s sister. Yet the driveway stood empty. Perhaps June was running late. She’d check anyway. Striding to the front door, clearly freshly painted in a deep forest green, Harriet knocked firmly.
A squeal of delight sounded from inside, followed by the patter of small fast moving feet.
‘Jacob, wait!’ a woman’s voice called. The door swung open. A tall, statuesque woman stood in the hallway, one hand on the door, the other clasping the shoulder of a toddling boy. Dark eyes looked up at Harriet from behind a mess of blonde curls before the boy ducked behind the leg of the woman. Pudgy hands covered in something shiny gripped her jeans. Harriet looked up at the woman.
‘You must be Harriet? I’m June.’
June Lane thrust a hand out to Harriet, saw the slick of jam on her index finger, retracted her hand wiping it on her jean clad leg before returning it in welcome. Harriet took it, shaking gingerly. Still sticky.
‘Come in,’ June said, bending down and sweeping the small boy into her arms and heading inside. ‘Shut the door behind you.’
Harriet stepped across the threshold from the cold of early January and into the warmth only the homes of small children radiated. She closed the door firmly behind her and followed the pale little face that bumped up and down as it watched her over June’s shoulder. They entered into a large, open-plan living area, kitchen to the right, lounge and dining combined to the left. June deposited the boy on a kid-sized couch in the middle of the lounge, flicking the TV on to a children’s program and, plucking a bottle from the couch, placed the blue plastic cup into the child’s waiting hands. The boy settled back, bottle tipped to his lips, large eyes glued to the bright colours dancing across the screen.
‘Should give us a few minutes of peace,’ June said. ‘Tea? Coffee?’
‘Tea, thank you,’ Harriet said following June to the small kitchen, the warmth of a cup would be welcome after her coastal trek. June flicked on the kettle and leaned against the bench, eyes trained on the TV child. Satisfied, she turned to Harriet.
‘Thank you for seeing me,’ Harriet began.
‘Of course,’ June said, ‘anything to help Lou. Though I am not sure there is much more I can tell you. The police interviews were very thorough.’
Harriet nodded, removing her coat. ‘Oh, sorry,’ June said, ‘I keep it like a furnace in here. Jacob’s had a cough, I don’t want it to get any worse. Just throw it over a chair and take a seat at the table. I’ll be through with the tea soon.’
Harriet walked back into the lounge-dining room and perched at the table, watching the small blonde head sink sleepily into the cushioned chair.
June placed a steaming cup before her. Harriet wrapped her hands around the mug and smiled her thanks. She let June settle before, ‘The Prosecution are making noises about seeking a guilty verdict and prison time.’ She paused, letting that sink in. June swallowed some tea, her forehead creased, ‘But…’
Harriet continued, ‘The psychiatric assessment agreed that Eloise was unstable, but that her condition seems, temporary. Episodes that come and go. It’s not what I hoped for. Much easier to argue insanity as a constant rather than as something fleeting.’ Harriet sipped her tea.
‘So how can I help you?’ June said. Harriet observed her face. It was Eloise’s, though several years older, and much more sleep deprived. Her pale skin looked drawn and tired. Deep, dark smudges hung beneath her blue eyes. June ran a shaking hand through her bleached locks, exposing a small white scar at her hair line. She caught Harriet’s glance at the tiny imperfection.
‘Childhood accident,’ she said, fingering the white mark. ‘I was teaching Lou to skim rocks down at the beach here. We always summered in Torcross. She kept practicing while I swam. I caught a stray pebble.’
‘Painful.’
‘Not really, more trouble than pain. Eloise cried about it for days, she was so wracked with guilt…’
She stopped, a sad smile on her lips, then looked at Harriet. Waiting.
‘I wanted to talk about your relationship with Mr Huxley.’ Harriet said simply.
June’s eyes narrowed. ‘He was my brother-in-law,’ she said, tone an unvoiced warning.
‘You dated back at Exeter University, did you not? Your mother said things were quite serious.’
June snorted, ‘It was uni, nothing was serious. Yes, we went out a few times. Played house at each other’s apartments. But it all ended in final year. I moved to Edinburgh for work. I didn’t see Grant again until he and Eloise were engaged.’
‘And what did you think about that? About your sister marrying your former lover?’
June pursed her lips. ‘I didn’t think anything,’ she said, voice strained. ‘It was years ago. Like I said, I hadn’t seen him in years.’
Harriet nodded, ‘What can you tell me about their marriage? Before Jacob. Did Eloise seem happy?’
‘Yes, well, yes. She did. She had a hard time having Jacob but things seemed good. Solid between them.’
‘Your father seemed to think he left Eloise for another woman. Do you know anything about that?’
June huffed an impatient breath, ‘Aren’t you supposed to be helping my sister? Not finding more motives for the bloody police!’ she snapped.
‘Do you know if he was living with another woman in London after he left Eloise?’ Harriet repeated.
June frowned, ‘I don’t know. It’s what I heard, through friends. Why? How does this help Eloise?’
‘I’m only considering if there could have been someone else with a motive to hurt Mr Huxley. A lover in London, afraid he would be leaving her, returning to his wife…’
‘I don’t think that’s a strong defence,’ June said. ‘She was covered in his blood. And he wasn’t getting back together with Eloise. He’d applied for sole custody.’
‘Eloise didn’t know that though, did she?’
‘I hid the letter. Mum, dad and I agreed we needed to shield her from it. But we didn’t know how too. That bastard!’ Her eyes blazed, furious. ‘He’d been coming here for weeks, sweet talking, playing happy families… and all the while he was just planning to fuck her over again.’
‘You sound very angry.’
‘Of course I’m bloody angry!’ June’s voice rose. She caught herself, eyes flicking to Jacob in the other room. He didn’t stir. ‘Of course I’m angry,’ she repeated, voice controlled but shaking. ‘He broke Lou. Deserted her when she needed him most. And he was going to take the last thing she had to hold on to. Jacob.’
‘Jacob is Mr Huxley’s son too,’ Harriet reasoned.
‘Not that he fucking cared for six months!’ June retorted, her words an echo of her fathers. She blew out a heavy breath, composing herself. ‘Look, Grant wasn’t all bad. But he wasn’t great either. He came first. His career, his money, his wants and needs. Lou is gentle and sweet. She didn’t stand a chance against his selfishness.’
‘So you weren’t happy about their marriage?’
‘No, if you must know. I wasn’t. But it wasn’t my life and there was nothing I could do about it.’
’You say Eloise didn’t stand a chance, what do you mean?’
June paused, thoughts turned inward. ‘Grant was always going to get what he wanted. She wanted to return to Salcombe, it was where we were brought up, where mum and dad were. But Grant’s job in London had to come first. She was fragile, she needed family and friends. But he shoved her into a tiny apartment, left her alone while we was out ‘making connections’ late into the night. Taking her out with him only oc
casionally to show off his ‘pretty little wife’. He was a bastard. A selfish bastard.’
‘Did Eloise complain about his behaviour to you? Did she ever intimate any… rough treatment?’
‘You mean did he hit her? No, as far as I know he never raised a hand to my sister. He just… ignored her and when it really mattered, abandoned her. Grant always did put himself first.’
More of that thinly veined resentment, June was not a fan of Mr Huxley. Mentally, Harriet crossed abuse off the list. A shame, it was getting a lot of traction in the courts these days, especially with the #metoo movement.
‘So you can’t think of anyone else who would have wanted to harm Mr Huxley?’
June gave a harsh laugh, eyes fixed on the back of Jacob’s head, now slumped to the side in slumber. ‘Aside from my dad, me and any other woman he’d jilted? No.’
‘Be careful saying that Ms Lane.’
‘Why? It wasn’t me. I was on a bus back from Salcombe when he was killed. ‘There but for the grace of God go I,’’ she quoted bitterly.
Harriet raised her eyebrows at her.
‘I’ll be frank,’ June said, leaning forward, ‘when I saw that custody letter, I saw red. I wanted him gone, out of Lou’s life forever. I’m not sorry he’s dead. I’m just sorry it was my Lou who did it. She’s so gentle and soft. I still can’t believe it…’ She shook her head and sighed.
‘Ms Bell, Lou doesn’t remember what happened that night. That’s not a lie. When I found her… when I got home she was holding Jacob in her arms, swinging him and singing him to sleep as though it were just any other weeknight. But she was covered in blood. Her hair wet from the rain outside. I thought she was hurt. I never thought…’ June closed her eyes, lost a moment in the horror of the memory. ‘I ran to her, took Jacob, checked them over. No wounds. I led her to the bathroom to clean her up and I saw the custody letter on the table. That’s when I knew…’
‘She’d found the letter?’ Harriet’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. That wasn’t what the DPP interviews recorded. They indicated Eloise was surprised by the information. What June was saying worked strongly against Harriet’s case. Clear motivation, even if Eloise was now unable to remember it.
‘Yes,’ June continued, ‘I’d left it in the side table drawer. She must’ve opened it looking for her crafting scissors…’
‘The murder weapon? Why would she have been looking for her scissors?’
June looked up startled, ‘Well, um, to craft. She always crafts when I’m out.’ Her hand tapped on the table top. She’s nervous, Harriet realised.
‘You said you caught the 5:15 p.m. bus from Salcombe, so you would have been home around 6:30 p.m. You came straight home?’
‘It was pouring with rain. So yes, straight home.’
’The bus comes in where?’
‘By the pub at the beach.’
‘Eloise wasn’t expecting you for dinner. She said you always visit your parents on Thursdays.’
June shrugged, recovered. ‘I do usually see mum and dad on Thursdays. But the car needed a service and I didn’t want to leave Lou overnight. So I bussed home. She just forgot I was coming back. She can be forgetful…’
Harriet suppressed an ironic roll of her eyes. Eloise could be forgetful. Understatement.
A little whimper came from the lounge. June stood up and crossed the room to Jacob. Bending she drew a sleepy puddle of child into her arms, cradling him to her chest. Messy blonde curls rested on the curve of her shoulder, face flushed from sleep. One pudgy hand wrapped around the buttons of June’s shirt. June pressed her cheek against the small head, rocking Jacob gently as he snuggled. Love radiated from her eyes as she planted a tender kiss on his mussy crown. Harriet shifted awkwardly, the display of open affection so foreign to her own upbringing. A scene of perfect domestic bliss.
‘It’s Jacob’s supper time,’ June said. ‘If there’s nothing more, I will see you out.’
‘Just one more thing, if I may. Your mother mentioned the payments that the Huxleys were making, in support of Jacob. Have they continued, given everything that’s happened?’
‘Yes, Jacob is still their grandchild. The Huxleys are heartbroken, but they love Jacob.’
‘I’m sure they do. But how do you access them, with Eloise at St Bernards?’
‘The payments come to me. They always have. I manage things here, they understand the situation with Eloise’s health.’
‘Of course,’ Harriet said smoothly.
‘Now if that’s it?’
Harriet’s welcome was well and truly worn out. Standing and collecting her jacket, she smiled, ‘I’ll ring if I have any further questions.’
Harriet strolled down the street towards the carpark by the pub. The curtains of a nearby house flickered. Nosey neighbours. It was an odd time to be out walking, though, she supposed. Coming to her car she spotted the bus stop by the beachside. Not a long walk, she mused. The pub lights cast a warm glow into the night. It was dark and cold and Harriet was hungry. Why not? she decided and headed for the bar. The entrance faced the sea, waves pushing gently against the icy coast. She stepped down into the pub, low ceilinged, dark wood, warm lighting; the smell of fish and pie had her mouth watering and her tummy grumbling in an instant. A few tables were taken up by older, merry-looking men and women. A middle aged man with dark hair waved a welcome, ‘Take a seat anywhere love. I’ll be with you shortly.’
‘Thank you,’ Harriet called, removing her jacket and making her way into the heart of the cozy establishment. She chose a seat by the open fireplace and pulled out her mobile phone. As her fingers danced across the keypad, a young girl arrived at her elbow, ‘Meal and tonight’s specials. Can I get you a drink to start?’ she said.
‘Just a soda water please,’ Harriet answered. She still had a long drive home.
The girl shuffled off and Harriet perused the menu. Can’t pass up fish and chips by the sea, even in winter, she thought as she closed the menu. Decision made.
Her soda arrived. Her order taken, Harriet leaned back in her chair flicking through emails, subconsciously processing her interview with June. Her client’s sister had seemed tense, uneasy. Eyes darting all about the place. Then again, Harriet thought, she is looking after a child. She shook her head thinking of the small boy, small children in general really. Jacob really was very cute, his fat hands and little smile. She’d felt her heart tug at the sight of his innocent joy. But did she want that responsibility in her life?
‘Here you go love,’ a jovial voice cut into her reverie as a steaming pile of battered fish fillets and a mountain of hot chips were placed before her.
‘Wow!’ she said, ‘Thank you. What a feast.’
‘Can’t have our guests going hungry,’ the man grinned down at her, his eyes warm.
Harriet smiled. He didn’t move away. Harriet looked up, open faced.
‘Sorry,’ he began, ’but are you the lawyer defending Eloise?’
Harriet startled, ‘Yes, but how…’
‘Don’t get many out-of-towners this time of year,’ he shrugged. ‘Mighty sad story,’ he continued, ‘and unlucky too. The only night her sister wasn’t there…’
‘June was never home on Thursdays. She visited her parents in Salcombe.’
‘That what she told you, hey?’ He gave a rueful laugh. ‘Then why does my daughter see her down at Beesands every Thursday afternoon?’
Harriet looked up in honest surprise. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, ‘I didn’t catch your name?’
‘Chris Simons. My daughter, Mason, works at the Beesands hotel. She found the body.’
Harriet blinked, small world. ‘And you are saying your daughter has seen June at the Beesands hotel?’
‘Every week on Thursdays, since that wayward husband started coming down for the weekends.’
‘I thought Grant only arrived on Friday night?’
‘No, Thursday was check in, just before June arrived. Mason often took them room service, sometimes
he ate alone in the dining room when June left.’
‘But why…’
Chris gave her a wicked wink, ‘I think we all know the answer to that one don’t we? Shame though, the one night she’s not there… unlucky for the guy. I mean, Grant was a total bastard, but no one wishes that on him. Anyway, your fish is getting cold, I should leave you in peace. Can I get you some vinegar, sauces?’
Flustered, Harriet stumbled, ‘Um, yes, vinegar please.’
Chris strolled away to get the condiments. Harriet stared at her heaped plate of fish, thoughts spinning. June was having an affair with Grant? Could it be true? Harriet knew they had been a couple back in their university days, but the family seemed sure that was in the past. And just this afternoon she’d expressed such strong disgust at Grant’s treatment of Eloise, which really didn’t fit with this revelation. Was it just the gossip of a small town, or was there something to it? June had seemed nervous… Was it the affair she wanted to hide, or something more?
Either way, June’s place as the ‘reliable witness’ would be somewhat undermined if the rumours were true.
Christ returned with a basket of sauces, ‘Here you go,’ he smiled. He turned to leave, then paused, ‘Don’t suppose you ever worked out who the little white car belonged to?’
‘Little white car?’
‘Yeah, Mason said it was parked in June’s spot. From her description, not one I’ve seen around before, so not a local. Police asked Mason if a guest had checked in with it, but it didn’t belong to someone staying at the hotel.’
‘I’ve not heard, sorry,’ Harriet’s mind was racing. The Prosecution hadn’t mentioned an unaccounted for vehicle…
‘Ah well, you enjoy your fish now,’ Chris smiled and lumbered off.
On automatic Harriet picked up her knife and fork, but her appetite had evaporated. This case just wasn’t sitting right. Yes, the evidence seemed clear, Eloise’s finger prints and DNA, her mental state, June’s testimony, but… but what? Harriet prompted herself.
The Unsound Sister Page 6