by Kerena Swan
When I return from the stable Lucy is pacing up and down the kitchen. ‘Mum’s getting so thin. I couldn’t persuade her to eat anything.’ Lucy bites her lip and turns her head away then gathers up her bags. ‘I need to go now. I can’t get here tomorrow but I’ll be here on Thursday.’
After she’s left I make Mum another drink and continue the game of Scrabble. She’s brighter after her nap and Lucy’s visit, and reassuringly she beats me. I leave her to watch an old film while I prepare my lunch. I slice a thick wedge of soda bread then put it in the toaster to warm. I open the fridge for some vegan cheese then notice the pâté. I read the ingredients list to be sure it’s vegan then pull off the cardboard sleeve. It looks good to me though Mum obviously didn’t think so as there’s only a tiny amount missing from where Lucy must have taken a sample in an effort to tempt her.
I spread a thick layer over my toast and wash it down with hot tea. It’s surprisingly tasty. I’m thinking about other activities I can do with Mum when my lips begin to tingle. At first I think it’s from the hot tea but now my throat’s tightening and I’m struggling to breathe.
Oh, God, I know this feeling. It’s the beginning of anaphylactic shock. But why? The pate doesn’t contain nuts and I’ve eaten the bread on other occasions with no ill effects. I pull at my T-shirt to loosen it from around my neck and tip my head back to open my airways, but I urgently need my EpiPen. Where’s my EpiPen? It should be here on the table but I can’t see it anywhere.
A thought slithers through my panic like a snake. Is Lucy trying to poison me now?
Chapter 50
The Previous March | DI Paton
‘You’ve done well, Dave – tracking your killer all the way to Milton Keynes with very little evidence. I’m impressed.’ Detective Superintendent Metcalfe put down his pen and smiled.
Paton grinned back and sat taller in his chair. He’d leapt around his hotel room like a pogo dancer at a rave when Mitchell had told him the result of his widened search on the ANPR data. This time they’d checked a four-week period after the murder and the number plate had been recorded there. There had been a gap of a week so the woman must have temporarily disguised her number plates. She was smart, but they were smarter.
‘We were rather pleased when we picked up Trina’s silver Fiesta again.’
‘And is the car still driving around Milton Keynes?’ Metcalfe asked.
Paton’s positivity waned. ‘Not for the past three weeks so she may have changed the plates again or got a new car. We now know that Trina Hodges is a fictitious name. We checked out the driving licence and it’s fake.’
‘This Trina must have dodgy connections if she’s able to obtain fake identity documents and a dead man’s number plate,’ Metcalfe observed. ‘Maybe we’re not just dealing with one individual here.’
‘I’m still of the opinion, sir, that this was a lover’s rejection that escalated.’
‘What about the other silver Fiesta’s owner, Britney Smith? Do you think we should drop that line of investigation?’
Paton was pleased that DSI Metcalfe was asking for his advice. He was getting himself noticed in a positive way with this investigation and Metcalfe clearly valued Paton’s opinion. If Paton found this woman, it would be the greatest achievement of his career to date and Tommy would be delighted.
‘Apart from driving a silver Fiesta in the wrong place at the wrong time I don’t think she has anything to do with Robert Nash. Her neighbour said she wasn’t away overnight at all in February. Shall I ask the team to stop investigating her background? I don’t see any reason to pursue Miss Smith further.’
‘I agree,’ Metcalfe said. ‘Let’s focus our resources on finding Trina Hodges or whatever her real name is. Any suggestions?’
Paton frowned. He wasn’t sure where to go from here and Metcalfe had put him on the spot. ‘I… Er… I thought we might contact the Milton Keynes and Manchester police stations to check on known criminals who supply false documents. There might be a police informer amongst them. It’s a small chance but one worth taking.’
‘Good idea. We also need to share the E-Fit picture with Milton Keynes police. If this woman knows criminals, she might have got herself noticed by the force.’
‘Do you think it’s worth me taking a trip down there?’ Paton asked. Wendy wouldn’t be thrilled at the idea of him going away again so soon but this case was important and maybe his sister would look after Tommy if needed.
‘What’s the population of Milton Keynes?’ Metcalf asked.
‘Approximately 250,000.’ Paton’s spirits dipped as he considered this. It would be easier to find a lost wedding ring on a two-mile stretch of beach.
‘I won’t authorise it at this stage. Do some more research then come back to me. In the meantime, I’m reducing the size of the team by two. We’ve got a lot going on in other areas and I need them. I’m sure you’ll cope fine with the rest.’
Losing two outsiders from the team was no great hardship, but Paton was aware that this could be the beginning of the end for this investigation. His dreams were slipping away from him. He needed something more to link Trina to Milton Keynes. He just hoped she’d drive around in the silver car with the same number plate again because he badly needed a new sighting.
As Paton walked along the corridor the theme tune to The Sweeney drifted from his jacket. He pulled his phone from his pocket and saw it was Tommy. He glanced at the time and noted it was five fifteen then answered the call. Tommy knew not to call before six so it must be urgent. His heart thumped.
‘Hi, Dad. I’ve made you dinner.’
Paton breathed out and was about to tell Tommy he shouldn’t call during work hours but he held back. He’d remind him later. ‘What have you made?’ he asked. ‘Did Mum help you?’
‘I did cooking at school. You’ve got pizza and salad.’
‘Wow! Thank you. My mouth’s watering already.’ There was silence at the other end. ‘Is everything else all right?’
‘Can I have a kitten? Ben’s cat has had six.’
Not that again. Paton liked cats but Wendy’s eyes swelled up like a gargoyle’s if she got too close to one. He’d have to say no again to Tommy and disappoint him. Paton could see a difficult evening ahead and he suddenly felt exhausted.
Chapter 51
The Previous April | Sarah
‘Can you get some milk while you’re out?’ Mark asks as I pull on my coat.
‘Shall I get something for dinner too?’
‘Just milk. I’ve got what I need for dinner.’
I give him a swift kiss and he pulls me to him for a hug, showing no sign of tiring of me, even though I’ve been here for two weeks now. When I returned from the hospital and told him the image of Mum lying on the sofa all alone in the final minutes of her life was haunting me, he suggested I stay with him for a few days. Just as I’d hoped he would.
I think he’s enjoying the company and staying here has been great for me so far. Mark enjoys cooking, although thankfully he isn’t too adventurous with his menus, and he keeps his home spotless. Such a contrast from the house in Netherfield. I feel cared for and respected – both a novelty for me – and I’m grateful to him.
‘I should think about going home at some point,’ I mutter into his chest. ‘The reporters will have given up by now.’ I’d been shocked when three people had turned up for a story but then I suppose the wife of a convicted murderer choking to death on her own vomit could be newsworthy.
‘Do you want to go home?’ He holds me at arms’ length and looks earnestly at my face.
‘Not really, but I don’t want to outstay my welcome. I need to contact the Housing Association as my name isn’t on the tenancy agreement. If they won’t let me take it over, I’ll need to find a room somewhere.’
‘Would you like to take the tenancy over?’
‘I can’t afford it, to be honest. Mum was claiming an incapacity benefit of some sort and would have had Housing Benefit to help with the
rent. There’s a long waiting list for housing too and I won’t be a priority as I don’t need a three-bed house. There’s bound to be a family out there desperate for a home.’’
‘I’d be happy for you to move in here, Sarah.’
I restrain myself from jumping in the air and shouting, ‘Yes!’ Mark is as easy to play as a game of Ludo. ‘I’d like that,’ I say, after a measured pause. ‘I’d like that very much.’
Mark wraps his arms around me again and lifts me off my feet. I look down at his smiling face and my first thought is Sucker! But then another thought creeps in. Maybe this could work. Maybe Mark is the one who’ll finally make me happy.
I sit in the café and look up as Derek walks in. He’s late but I can’t complain. He’s doing me a massive favour, yet again.
‘How are you, Sarah? I’ve been worried about you.’ Derek takes the seat opposite me and I notice that he’s washed his hair and his clothes are relatively clean, although they’re still crumpled from lack of contact with an iron. He’s also doused himself in strong aftershave again.
I’m okay,’ I say with a sigh. ‘I keep thinking how awful Mum’s last moments must have been with no one to help her.’
‘Don’t dwell on it. It’s not your fault. The post-mortem said she had four times the driving limit of alcohol in her blood, and it was obvious she’d been drinking herself into an early grave for years.’
I pat Derek’s hand and smile at him. ‘Thanks. I really appreciate your support.’ The post-mortem had been a worry and I’d been hugely relieved when the accidental death verdict was announced.
‘I’ve been thinking about your situation,’ Derek says, watching me carefully. ‘You do know you’ll have to give the house back to the Housing Association soon?’
I nod and resist the urge to tell him I’m not stupid.
‘I’d like to offer you my spare room. I was thinking of getting a lodger at some point but I’m not supposed to sublet. If you take it at mate’s rates we could tell anyone who asks that we’re a couple.’ He must see the horror on my face because he adds, ‘I’d leave you alone, of course. I’d give you privacy.’
‘That’s very sweet of you, but I’m going to have a fresh start at a new life. Did you bring the documents?’
He pulls a brown envelope from his jacket pocket.
‘Of course,’ he says. ‘I’d never let you down.’
I open the envelope with barely contained excitement. I’m going to tell Mark I need a new name to stop reporters coming after me, and I’m going to move in with him on a more permanent basis. The police won’t find me now. I pull out my new driving licence and examine it. Yes, the name has a certain ring to it. I like it. From this moment on I’ll be known as Grace Cavendish.
Chapter 52
The Following September | Jenna
My breath wheezes through my constricted throat, my heart thuds against my ribs and my eyes bulge as I stagger around the kitchen. Where’s my EpiPen? I’m sure I left it on the table, but it’s not here now. Oh, God, help me.
‘Mum!’ A faint rasp is the only sound to emerge through the sadistic grip on my windpipe. I don’t know what to do. If I try to make it to the lounge I might pass out. Mum may not find me in time. My throat will carry on swelling until it closes completely. My lips and cheeks are tingling and my skin is on fire. I must find my EpiPen. Only an injection of adrenaline will save me now.
I swivel my head frantically from left to right, scanning the worktops. My vision blurs as the room flashes past my eyes. I can’t focus. I want my mum. I need Mum. I see the vase of bright sunflowers on the table and in a flash of inspiration I sweep my arm out and send it crashing to the hard stone floor. Shards of china and water explode across the kitchen and hit my legs.
‘Are you all right, Jenna?’ Mum calls from the other end of the house.
I can’t reply. My vision is turning red and I’m going to pass out any minute now. I push a chair over and it hits the floor with a clatter then I lean against the wall and slide down it to avoid falling.
‘What’s going on?’ It’s as though Mum is calling to me from a distant hilltop and there’s a whole valley of countryside between us. The sun drops beyond the horizon and darkness descends.
I wake to the soothing sensation of a hand stroking my hair back from my forehead and Mum’s gentle, comforting voice.
‘It’s okay, Jenna. I’m here. I’m looking after you.’
I feel disorientated but safe. Mum will care for me as she always does. She knows what to do. I relax under her calming ministrations, then, without warning, I see with sudden clarity an image of Mum on her death bed and me stroking her hair. Cold dread takes a bite from my heart. No, no, no! It’s not meant to be like this. I’m too young to lose my mum, the most important person in my world. I can’t bear it. I want to die with her. Tears well in my eyes, run across the bridge of my nose and gather in my right ear.
‘Don’t cry, love. You’re okay. We’ll give you another injection in ten minutes and the ambulance will be here soon.’ Mum takes a seat pad from a kitchen chair and places it under my head with aching tenderness. ‘What have you eaten?’
My mind struggles to grasp what has happened. I raise my head and see an EpiPen cartridge lying on the floor in a puddle of water. Fragments of china, like broken teeth after a fight, are littered around the empty medication tube. The blue cap has been ripped off and discarded nearby and the needle is encased in the retractable orange plastic again. I remember gasping for breath. ‘Where was my pen?’ I can only whisper but Mum understands me.
‘I couldn’t find it so I fetched a spare one. You really should keep it in your pocket, Jenna. In fact, remember what the doctor said? You’re supposed to carry two on you.’ Mum reproaches me but she’s only trying to keep me safe.
‘It was on the table. I got changed to muck out the stable and I didn’t have a pocket so I’d been carrying it around,’ I rasp. I know I put it on the table when I came in.
‘We need to buy you one of those little bags to strap around your waist for when you don’t have a pocket.’
‘You don’t understand, Mum. I definitely put it on the table.’ Someone moved it, I’m certain now. But only Grace and Lucy have been here. Did Grace move it when she was cleaning or did Lucy knock it when she dumped her bags on the table? I can’t see it on the floor.
‘Well, it’s not on the table now.’ Mum pulls out a chair and sits down with a thud. All colour has drained from her face, leaving only the sickly jaundice of her illness.
I struggle into a sitting position, trying to fight off the dizziness and nausea. Mum picks up her phone.
‘Stay there,’ she says. ‘I’m going to call Lucy. You need someone to go with you to the hospital and I’m not strong enough.’
In a flare of clarity my memory replays the scene where Lucy unpacks the pâté and other goodies. ‘They’re vegan,’ she says. She didn’t buy them for Mum. She bought them for me. ‘No! Not Lucy,’ I say with as much force as I can muster. My outburst stills Mum’s hand and she frowns at me.
‘What is it?’
I can’t tell her. I can’t allow her last few weeks of life to be overshadowed by the terrible realization that one of her daughters wants the other one dead.
‘Lucy’s at the dentist,’ I improvise quickly. ‘She’s having root canal treatment. She didn’t tell you because you’d worry. Call Grace. She’ll come with me.’
I’ll feel much safer with Grace to look after me, and I might confide in her about Lucy. She’ll know what to do.
Chapter 53
The Previous April | Grace
I stand over Mark’s armchair and wait as he leans forward to grab the remote and turn the television down.
‘I’ve been thinking,’ I say. ‘I’ve spent my whole life having fingers pointed at me for being the girl with a drunk for a mother and a thug for a father. A thug who became a murderer. I want to put all that behind me, especially as I now know I’m not actually Joh
n Butcher’s daughter. So I’ve decided to change my name.’
‘Butcher?’
‘Sarah too. I want a completely fresh start.’
‘What do you want to be called?’
‘I like the name Grace,’ I tell him. ‘Grace Cavendish.’
He nods. ‘Nice. It suits you.’
‘Let’s pretend we’ve only just met and never knew each other at school – not that I ever noticed you.’ I grin at him.
‘That’s because you always had your head in a book. You never noticed anyone.’ He takes my hand and pulls me towards him. ‘Come and sit with me. We can watch a film together.’
‘I don’t have a day off work like you. Nikos is expecting me at the kebab shop.’
‘You could leave that job. I’d support you while you look for something better. The pay’s terrible anyway.’
I lean forward to kiss his warm lips. ‘That’s very sweet of you, but I wouldn’t want to impose. It’s enough that you’re letting me stay here rent-free.’
‘I love having you here. Stay as long as you like.’
‘Thanks, Mark. Now the Housing Association has said they’re taking Mum’s house back I could be here for a while.’ My spirits sink at the thought of clearing out the house. There’s so much shit in it. I’ll donate the furniture to charity – if they’ll even want it – and I’ll have to make numerous trips to the dump. At least Mark has given me a decent-sized room of my own so I can bring my few possessions here.
I don’t go to the kebab shop as I’m not really working there today. Instead, I collect Rex, who circles in excitement when he sees me, and drive to Bow Brickhill again. I amble up and down Station Road, glancing across to the entrance of The Old Hay Barn, hoping for a car to drive in or out. I’m desperate for a glimpse of my real family but I still don’t have the courage to knock on the door. I need to find another way to get in there, to be included in their lives, if only in a small way to start with.
