by Lynda Stacey
Sighing, she looked up, stared at the fire, tried to dismiss all thoughts of men and relationships. She had Beth to consider. Had to be the one constant in her sister’s life, without distractions. Shaking her head, she took in a deep breath, watched the flames that licked the back of the chimney and suddenly became aware of the smell of rich caramelised beef, garlic, mushrooms and onion that filled the kitchen. Molly’s mouth began to salivate.
‘Oh, my God, how do you do that?’ she said to her gran. ‘I wasn’t even hungry and now – now I’m absolutely starving.’ Making her way to the table, she watched her gran turn the pie around on the trivet, as though by turning it she’d get a different perspective. Then, as she’d done so many times before, she plunged her knife into its crusty middle, placed a large piece into her deep, earthenware bowl and poured the thick, dark beef gravy from the jug.
Less than a half hour later, Molly sat by the fire, gave an involuntary shudder, crossed her arms around herself and used a hand from each arm to rub the other. Closing her eyes for a beat, she listened as the logs crackled and an easy silence filled the room, the only noise coming from the puppy whose whole back end was almost bending double with excitement as he wagged his tail. Once again, Molly noticed the joy in Beth’s eyes as he jumped up and over her legs into her arms and finally landed on the floor in a heap, nestled his head into the folds of her gran’s skirt and fell into a deep, restful and immediate sleep. It was as though someone had pulled the plug out and through half closed eyes, Molly raised her eyebrows, glanced across to Beth, who, like the puppy, had lain down, closed her eyes and with her head on her grandad’s lap had fallen into a deep, peaceful sleep.
15
‘So, you’ve gone out, have you?’ I stand in the shadow of a large oak. Its branches reach out, far and wide above me, like long, spindly fingers trying to grab at the houses. It’s a tree I’ve seen so many times before. A tree that I’ve leaned against to admire the view, to watch what you’re doing, just like I watched Michael, his niece, your mother.
Quietly, I step over the fence, across the grass and onto the path, where my feet land heavily on the cobbles, the sound of my footsteps echoing eerily. I notice that the tide is still out, the waves are not rolling or crashing against the rocks and tonight, there are no seagulls, no dogs barking, and certainly no children hollering or whooping on the beach below.
Pulling the roll of tissue from inside my coat, I unwrap the long stemmed white longiflorum lily from within. Curl my lip in a sly smile, then lay it on the doorstep, carefully positioned to look natural, as though it could have blown in on the wind rather than been placed purposely.
With the garden suddenly illuminated by distant headlights, I take my leave, edge around the garden to step over the fence and position myself to one side of the tree, take pleasure in watching you and the way you sit, staring at the house, and by the look on your face, you’re wishing you were just about anywhere in the world but here.
16
Sitting alone in the car in the darkness, Molly stared at the house, could hear Beth’s words still ringing in her ears. ‘Place really is knackered, isn’t it?’
Knuckle rubbing her eyes, she slumped back in her seat, realised how true Beth’s words had been, felt the happiness and excitement of living here dissipate. Taking a deep breath, she began to wonder whether she really had been excited or whether the thought of getting away, of living independently and away from Dan had clouded her judgement. Because the reality of living here wasn’t anywhere near the ‘dream’ or the ‘return to happier days’ she’d hoped for.
Running her hands around the steering wheel, she squinted, followed the line of her headlights to the edge of the garden, tried to work out how hard it would be to make the garden safe, to stop anyone falling over the edge and, if it were possible, how they’d manage to erect a fence or barrier so close to a cliff. She cursed, remembered how beautiful the garden had been, knew how much it would take to restore it and all the hidden costs that would come with such a project.
Feeling overwhelmed, she puffed out her cheeks, switched off the engine and gave a gasp as the brightness faded and disappeared, leaving her sitting in near pitch darkness with just the moon and stars to light her way. It made the idea of leaving the car to walk to the house in the dark, alone, less than ideal.
Grabbing at her handbag, she pulled out the letter she thought she’d hid, the letter Beth had inadvertently found. Reading it again, she scowled. ‘Well, you’re out, Charlie…’ She gave a thoughtful nod, closed her eyes to see his evil, scowling face. Once again, she’d received a text. A single line, non-incriminating, that could have been from anyone. Deep down, she felt sure it was him. Felt sure it was something he’d do. Ensuring that when he did turn up, looking for Beth, she’d already be on her guard, watching every car, fearing every knock on the door. With her blood boiling inside, she could feel her pulse quicken. No matter what, she had to keep him away. Felt proud that she’d managed so far, but that was before he’d been released and now, everything had changed, he was free to walk the streets, to approach Beth whenever he wanted. Molly felt a sense of relief that she’d secretly gone through Beth’s phone, her social media settings, increased her privacy. It had been a job she’d hated doing. A necessary evil. ‘It had to be done,’ she said with a nod, convincing herself that what she’d done was right, it’s what their mum would have wanted, what she’d have done herself, if only she’d been here.
Glancing over her shoulder she nervously peered back along the lane, her eyes constantly searching the shadows, looking for movement. Looking for Charlie. From where she sat, she could just about see the side of Niall’s property, the small but welcoming floodlight that lit up a small part of his drive. A small glimmer of light that peeked its way through heavily drawn upstairs curtains. In comparison, her own house was shrouded in darkness, making her wish that she’d thought to leave a lamp on in the hallway, or the bedroom, anything that might have made it look just a little more homely and welcoming.
Climbing out of the car, she watched the gate blow back and forth in the breeze but stood and squinted at the rickety old shed, its broken window that reflected the moonlight back at her and the huge pile of logs that had been delivered and were now strewn all over the area that used to be a lawn.
‘Damn it.’ She bit down on her lip. The hopes of a hot bubble bath, a book and an early night disappeared. ‘I could ignore it. I could get up early, move them tomorrow,’ she whispered into the darkness, pulled open the gate, felt the first drops of rain land on her face and roll down her cheek. ‘Oh, for God’s sake,’ she growled, marching up to the front door as she felt her pocket begin to vibrate, the sound of Snow Patrol immediately filling the air. Delving into her pocket, she pulled out the mobile and smiled at the screen.
‘Hi, Dan, how are you doing?’
‘I’m good. Where are you?’ He sounded edgy. The unusual tone of his voice spoke volumes and she balanced the phone on her shoulder, unlocked the front door. Then froze as she spotted a flower. It was wilted, bruised, lying on the doorstep with nothing around it but fallen autumn leaves that had blown in on the breeze. Turning, she looked over her shoulder. Felt sure she heard someone whisper her name, shrugged it off, determined not to be put off by the eeriness of being so remote. ‘It’s just a flower.’ She checked the flowerbed to the side of the door, where all the previous year’s flowers had withered and died, and her fingers went out to touch the climbing plant which had lost its leaves and all that remained was the twisted, woody stems that reached up for the eaves.
‘What?’ Dan’s voice cut through the darkness, jolting her back to the conversation.
‘Nothing,’ she began. ‘There was a flower on the doorstep, some kind of lily that had obviously blown in on the breeze.’ Again, she heard a whisper, distant, remote. Felt her heartbeat accelerate. Her mouth grew dry, her eyes searching the darkness. ‘And now I’m imagining things. Thought I heard someone calling me. Argh.’
‘Dan, it’s a bloody flower. Now, are you going to tell me what’s wrong?’
With her mind filled with unanswered questions she ignored his pleas, knew he’d do anything he could to be here, to be a part of their lives. With a determination not to be fazed, she threw her handbag over the bottom of the balustrade, stood for a moment and waited nervously, listening to the house. Heard the normal creaks, bangs and knocking of the branch on the window. Realised how strange the house felt at night, how different it was to be alone.
‘Where’s Beth?’ he asked, his voice soft, gentle, inquisitive. ‘She with you?’
Pulling the understairs cupboard open, she quickly grabbed at her wellingtons and a pair of gloves. ‘Dan, I know you so much better than that, what are you not saying?’
Standing still, Molly switched on the kitchen light and checked the room. Again, it was as she’d left it and if it wasn’t for Dan sounding quite so edgy, she’d feel a sense of relief, but right now, she could almost imagine him pacing the floor as he pondered over his words. ‘Beth stayed at Gran’s. Is there a problem?’
‘So, you’re at the house, alone?’
Dropping her boots onto the floor, Molly pushed her feet inside. ‘Dan, now you’re freaking me out. Are you going to tell me what’s going on, or not? ’Cause I know there’s something.’
‘Look.’ He paused, took a breath. ‘You know he’s been released, don’t you?’
‘Sure, they sent Mum a letter. It was in a box full of post that had been at Mum’s.’ She still had no idea how she’d managed to open the post, to read each letter in turn. There had been so many claims, so much money, all owed in her mum’s name. Money she still had to find a way of paying back, just as soon as the estate was settled.
‘Well, that’s the thing. He got out a few days ago.’ She heard him sigh. ‘I swear, Moll. I only just heard, or I’d have said something sooner.’ When she didn’t speak, he continued. ‘I had to transport one of the prisoners to the hospital this afternoon and you know what it’s like, the hours of boredom. Charlie got mentioned. I checked when I got back, and his cell was empty. New guy already in his place. Word has it, he got out Wednesday.’
Taking the phone away from her ear, Molly stared at the flower, the bruised, wilted flower, felt the air leave her lungs, darkness surround her mind, and she spun around on the spot, fully expecting to see Charlie O’Connor’s broad frame standing in the doorway, a wide, nasty sneer crossing his face. She knew he was getting out, knew it had been planned for some time, but had tried to push the thought to the back of her mind, secretly hoping it wouldn’t happen, that his release would be delayed or that somehow, he’d disappear, without trace. And vehemently she hoped she’d never again have to hear his name or worry about him contacting Beth.
‘Moll, you there?’ Dan’s deep voice echoed from the handset and, for a moment, she simply held it at arm’s length, her fingers numb with fear.
She pulled the phone back to her ear, felt a sob leave her throat. ‘Dan… could he have been here? I mean, where is he now? Where is he living?’ Searching the darkness, she followed the line of the trees, the space where her car was parked, saw nothing but shadows.
‘Moll, your guess is as good as mine. His parole officer would have an address, but even criminals have data protection. I could ask around, see if anyone knows.’
Slamming the door behind her, she angrily stamped down the path. ‘No, Dan. There’s no point is there. Wherever he is, bloody psychopath is bound to turn up here, looking for Beth. And what if he does come here, to this house? What if he convinces her he’s changed, reformed, whatever you call it? She’s close to becoming an adult, Dan, and I won’t be able to stop her seeing him, will I?’ She knew she was rambling, talking at speed, but couldn’t stop. Slowing her pace, she eyed the trees, the bushes, the shadows, thought about the picture, of how it had gone missing. ‘I think he’s already been here. Too many things have happened and now, now I have a lily, dumped on my doorstep.’
Pacing back and forth, she tried to work out what Charlie was planning, what his end goal would be, whether he really would have left a flower on her doorstep. He’d always been resourceful, a little more than elusive. Which meant that he would definitely be up to something, and Molly knew that he had all the time in the world, not to mention all the wrong friends in all the right places. Some were still on the inside and others on the streets. Most willing to do just about anything to earn a quick buck.
As far as she knew he hadn’t known where she and Beth lived. She hadn’t told anyone she was moving, apart from her grandparents and Dan. And of course, with him living next door, Niall knew they were there too. Which meant the chances of Charlie having found them already were slim, but not impossible, and the thought that he could have already been here was now digging away in the back of her mind.
‘Where did you say she was?’
‘Who, Beth? She’s at Gran’s, conveniently fell asleep on the settee. Accidentally on purpose I’d say. So I left her there for the night, she hasn’t seen them for a long time, and I thought Gran would talk some sense into her about trying to settle.’ Picking up a log, she threw it across the shed floor and watched it as it came to rest at the back, where long bamboo poles stood in a corner, most probably waiting patiently to hold up next year’s crop of beans or tomatoes.
‘Jesus, Moll, what’s the banging?’
‘Oh, it’s nothing, you know, just throwing logs into a shed in near pitch darkness, like you do. Delivery guy left them all over the bloody grass. Right by the shed door, trapping it open and, on cue, it’s raining.’
‘What logs?’
‘A whole tonne of them, for the fire, I even paid extra for the kiln dried type and right now they’re getting absolutely drenched, so…’ Another log was tossed. ‘Dan, I’d better go, I need to get this done, I don’t want to be out here any longer than necessary, not if that psycho is out and about.’
17
Pushing the phone into her pocket, she nervously wedged the door open. Piled a few logs in front of it. Made sure it couldn’t slam to a close. Being locked back in wasn’t an experience she wanted to repeat, especially as tonight she was alone, Beth couldn’t turn up and unlock it for her, unless of course it had been Beth who had locked it in the first place.
Picking up another log, she began throwing them with force into the depths of the shed, one at a time, and felt thankful for the window which, although broken, let in just enough moonlight for her to see where the logs were landing. Even though there was no order or assemblance, she knew that they’d at least be dry and out of the rain.
With her senses, already on high alert, Molly listened for every noise, immediately picked up on a cough followed by footsteps. Her whole body froze with terror and automatically she reached out, lifted a log, felt ready to use it as a weapon. Nervously watched through the corner of her eye as a pair of jet-black boots strode towards her.
‘Don’t come any closer!’ she screamed, turned, lifted the log up ready to throw.
‘Hey… woah… I come in peace and, if you don’t mind, I’d rather you didn’t throw anything at me.’
Laughing nervously, Molly dropped the wood, held a hand to her chest. ‘Bloody hell, Niall. You just frightened me half to death.’ She paused, took in a breath. ‘I just lost ten years off my damn life. Again.’ Leaning against the shed door, she saw Dillon running towards her, tongue lolloping to one side. Instead of being fearful, this time she bent down, fussed him while his whole body rocked from side to side. ‘How come you’re out so late?’
‘Me and Dillon, well, we went to the shops. Seems like I can’t go anywhere without him.’ Niall placed a shopping bag on the ground beside where Dillon patiently sat. ‘I was going to take him for a last-minute stroll on the beach, but then, well… we saw you.’ He paused. ‘Actually, if truth be known, I saw the guy delivering th
e logs this afternoon and when we heard you trying to launch the logs from a great distance, we realised what you were doing and… I knew I’d never settle with that racket going on, so rather than get pissed off by the noise, I thought I’d best stroll over and give you a hand.’ He smiled and rolled his eyes upwards as the drops of rain increased in size. ‘And, yep, they did say it’d rain.’ His hands went out, palms up, then looked from Molly to the logs and back again. ‘Give me a minute – Dillon, come on.’ He tapped his leg twice. Disappeared into the darkness.
Continuing with her mission, Molly picked the logs up, threw them into the shed. Then heard Niall’s boots return to the path. ‘Bit of a wimp is our Dillon, hates the thunder, so I took him home,’ he said with a smile, flexed his fingers. ‘Right, let’s get this done.’
‘Seriously. You don’t have to,’ she said. ‘I can do it, and it really won’t take me that long.’ The words fell unconvincingly from her mouth and even as she said them, she stood to one side, allowed Niall to step forward to look into the shed. Then, after summing up the situation, he began grabbing at the logs, two at a time, and with one foot in and one foot out of the doorway, he began launching them inward, as the deluge of rain continued.
‘You’re getting soaked,’ she shouted, but the weather masked her voice and she stood back, then looked down to see her own jumper clinging intimately to her.