Bad Blood

by Lily Hayden

  “I’d heard you were still here,” Linda spat through gritted teeth. “But I didn’t believe that you would have the gall.”

  Belle felt her cheeks flame red with humiliated indignation, but she struggled to remain civil.

  “Linda, we’ve tried to speak to you,” it wasn’t exactly a lie- Belle knew that Rose had at least. “We’re so, so sorry. We can’t even imagine how horrible that must have been…”

  “Don’t you dare!” She roared with a force that made Belle and Brenda jump. “The police might be slow to act, but I know that it was you. You came back and you killed him!”

  The accusation hit Belle like a blow to the chest, and she gasped physically winded by the attack. Her eyes danced of their own accord to her son, and his pale, pinched face was enough to snap her back from the shock.

  “Linda, please,” she forced her tone to remain calm, but she heard it quiver giving away her nerves. “I know this is a shock but if you think for a minute…”

  “Oh, no!” Linda almost bellowed, still running on pure adrenaline. “I don’t think anything. I know, and there’s proof. When you’re in prison, believe me I will contest that will for Frank. He didn’t want any of you ungrateful, money-grabbing murderers…”

  “Linda! That is enough!” Belle had almost forgotten Brenda’s presence, and it was with mortified gratitude that she watched the strapping older woman seize Linda’s scrawny arm and begin to pull her away.

  “Linda, I…” Belle opened her mouth to say something, but she had no words, and seeing Brenda’s sharp nod at her, she took Toby and Harley’s hands as calmly as she could muster and walked away.

  “Mum! Mum!”

  Belle was halfway back down the high street when she finally heard Toby calling up to her, and she guiltily shook off her own alarm to answer him.

  “Why did she say you would go to prison, Mum?” She saw the terror in his eyes, and she felt a flare of anger rip through her upset at the encounter.

  “She’s off her head, Tobes,” Belle reassured him. “She’s a horrible lady, and she’s making things up.”

  “Why would she say that though?” He persisted. “Because Grandad Frank died?”

  “No, Toby.” Belle cut him off. “She’s had a shock and she’s saying silly things. She needs to go to the doctor.”

  “Is she going to die too?” Toby’s eyes widened further, and Belle felt the gravity of the situation pressing down on her shoulders threatening to floor her completely.

  “No, Toby…”

  “You’re not going to go to prison though, Mum?” The rising desperation in his voice clawed at her heart.

  “No,” she said in her firmest tone. “Now, let’s stop being silly and get a cake from the baker’s, shall we?”

  She pushed open the door to the shop, ushering the children in ahead of her, but as she stood in the queue, she had to push her hands deep into her pockets when she realised how much they were trembling. It had been three days since she had been sat in the stiff, plastic chair at the police station, and even then, she had managed to master her fears, reassuring herself that it was just protocol. With every passing day that there had been no follow up from the investigation, she had felt her anxieties ease to allow her grief to come to the forefront of her mind. But the accusation, violent and angry, had brought all her worst fears flooding back.

  Will

  His stomach knotted with nerves as he swiped his clammy palms across the back of his jeans, wishing he didn’t have to do this. The Coroner’s report had come back, and instead of dispelling any concerns it had added more uncertainty around his father’s death.

  “Do you want me to come?”

  Raya looked up at him, her eyes wide with concern, but he shook his head exhaustedly.

  “No, it’s fine,” he said trying to sound brave. “I feel bad enough leaving you in the lurch with this job.” He smiled wryly gesturing around her tiny flat at the mountain of his sister’s belongings next to his own meagre pile. “And for putting all this on you.”

  She had been sat on the edge of her sofa with an assortment of lenses spread out around her preparing for a shoot, but she pushed them to the side and got to her feet.

  “You’d do it for me,” she reminded him gently. “That’s what friends are for, right. Come on. I’ll help you load the car.”

  Neither of them spoke as they carted Belle and Toby’s bags back and forth until Will’s car was piled high, and resignedly he slipped into the car turning on the engine. Raya stood on the pavement, and despite the bright smile on her face he could see the worry in her eyes. They had skirted around his fears, latching onto any distractions instead of talking about it, but he could feel her concern rolling from her, hot and suffocating.

  “What if they think it was me?” The words burst from him in a momentary lapse of control that he regretted as soon as they were out of his mouth.

  Anguish spread across her face, and he wanted to claw his words back; wanted to go back to pretending that it was all alright.

  “Ignore me,” he tried to laugh before she had a chance to speak, knowing that he couldn’t handle the conversation. “It’s the stress of it all.”

  She nodded her head once, but she didn’t look convinced. “It’ll be fine. They’re just being thorough. Phone me when you get there.”

  He forced himself to pull his eyes away from his best friend, turning up the car radio to silence the nagging voice that wondered if he’d ever make it to Japan like they’d planned. The miles of road passed by unnoticed as his mind replayed the events of the weekend scrutinising everything that had happened.

  It looked awful. He couldn’t deny that. No matter how much he tried to reason with himself, he couldn’t deny that emotions had been running high for all of them. The only one who hadn’t shown the slightest hint of being stressed and on edge had been Frank. They had all thought about the will in the months, and certainly the days, leading up to the wedding, but none of them had raised it properly.

  How could we? Will thought through the torment of the what-ifs. He felt the familiar flicker of anger that Frank had put them in this position, but he pushed away any thoughts of the injustice of Linda receiving their mother’s land. He hadn’t been able to bring himself to think about it before Frank had died, and he certainly didn’t want that in his head now.

  Would there have been a different outcome if they’d just talked about it like adults?

  He shook his head hard. No, of course not. He couldn’t go down that route. That would be like admitting Linda was right with her accusations.

  She was a horrible person, he acknowledged sticking to the safer ground that he could manage. Kathleen would have been devastated that Frank was doing this to his children. She would have been heartbroken that he had barely seen any of them in the past few years, and Will knew she wouldn’t have blamed them.

  Tim had confirmed that the will had remained unchanged, but Will couldn’t find any comfort in that. Not now, not until this was all settled, the investigation was over, and Frank had been laid to rest. The will was the centre of it; all Linda’s accusations and the police’s concerns rested on a piece of paper. It felt horrible, and cheap, and sordid.

  For him, it had never been about money. He had no idea whether the will had changed or remained the same until afterwards. He had to admit though that he had had suspicions about Frank’s intentions, so he couldn’t help but wonder how his brother and sisters had felt about it.

  If only we had been closer, he thought as helpless desperation spread through his chest. If only we were the kind of family to sit down and talk about it properly.

  But they weren’t, and he knew that it was unlikely that they would ever be that family again. Everyone was too wrapped up in their own problems, and Will knew that he couldn’t blame them. He hadn’t been there for any of them, swanning off the moment he was old enough to. His life a series of exotic landscapes and sunsets. How could he possibly know for sure what they were capab
le of, what would have triggered them to snap.

  Belle, for all her gentleness with Toby, had a streak as fiery as her copper-coloured hair. She had been at rock bottom; left for dead on the side of the road, robbed by her boyfriend while she lay unconscious in the hospital, sacked and broke, made to feel like a burden by the family that should have been there for her. His chest ached with pain for his sister. They had all let her down badly, leaving a fourteen-year-old to grieve alone with their uncaring father. No matter how well she seemed on the face of it, Will knew that there were years of bad feeling buried beneath her bravado.

  She had the most reason to snap, he knew even though the thought made him feel physically sick knowing that she had the most to lose. For her, and for Toby. He wasn’t a religious man, but he had prayed silently that she hadn’t gone to Bluebell Farm that night.

  He turned his attention to his brother, knowing that he was the only one who had a temper to match Belle’s. Despite Tim’s life appearing perfect on the surface, it was clear he was a man on the edge. His high-pressured job, and his affair; it was all threatening to cave in around him.

  Could Tim have snapped?

  Will felt certain that he was capable of hurting someone, but their father? He shook his head, not wanting to let the scene take shape in his imagination. It was too grisly to comprehend.

  He forced his thoughts to Rose, and he was glad that his motherly, mild-mannered sister didn’t appear to be in the frame. He had caught just the briefest glimpse into her life over the past few months, and it had completely changed how he had viewed her. He had always pictured her as calm and collected, a Mother Earth type; much more grown-up than him, with her teacher husband and her family. But he knew now that he had no idea of who she was, and he had just pasted his own memories of his mother over the image he held of Rose. She wasn’t Kathleen, that was abundantly clear to Will now. It was clear that Rose hadn’t had the textbook, perfect, small-town life that he’d imagined. There was something desperately lonely about his big sister, and the knowledge gnawed at him uncomfortably.

  He knew that he needed to stop dwelling on them. There was nothing that he could do, but he still felt guilt lying heavy on his chest knowing that he would be leaving the country the moment he had the chance.

  Rose

  “Is everything ok?”

  Rose gazed down at the phone in her hand with a heavy heart. She had started the week with such good intentions, but every day she had managed to convince herself that she was too busy to reply to Gareth, or any of her siblings. It was surprisingly easy to be productive when you were avoiding someone; her house had never looked so clean and tidy, and the notebook on the kitchen table was full of jobs she had applied for.

  I’ll reply to him later, she promised herself, trying to ignore the ache of regret as she left Gareth’s message unread.

  She slipped on the smart navy jacket that she reserved for best and spritzed herself with the dregs of her perfume bottle. At some point during the night, she had woken up with a sudden surge of energy and it had felt like the perfect time to give the kitchen cupboards a thorough clean. While she was elbow-deep in soapy water surrounded by tinned goods and miscellaneous household objects accumulated over the years, she had decided that she needed to be more pro-active in her job hunt. She would head into town to visit the numerous recruitment agencies and see what she could find. No matter how sad she felt about her father’s death, she knew that she had to remain practical when she had bills to pay and no income. The downside of her motivated job hunting had been that she’d been forced to turn her phone back on. As well as messages from Gareth, she had missed calls from Will and Belle. She knew from Will’s message that the coroner’s report had come back, and he was being asked to attend another interview. Belle had had a particularly horrible run in with Linda in the village, and as much as Rose’s heart went out to them both, she had to remain practical.

  It’s all well and good wanting to swan back and forth to Hampton Dale to be there for them, she reminded herself as she methodically packed her handbag, but I need to get a job.

  She knew that her brother and sister hadn’t hurt their father. She had been worried that they may have gone to Bluebell Farm to have it out with him the night before the wedding, but her only worry about that was that they would be in some way falsely implicated. She had received no news on any security camera footage, so she knew she could safely assume that there was none. It was just bad timing that they had both left the B & B at the same time.

  They’ll both be fine, she reassured herself firmly as she set out to the bus stop. There was absolutely no reason for her to go the village. At least, not until the funeral.

  She swallowed at the thought of that hurdle ahead of her, knowing that at some point she would have to face up to her grief. Aside from her emotional breakdown when she’d returned to the safety of her home, she had managed to keep the lid on that particular box, knowing that she could ill afford to be swept any further into misery. Not if she wanted to keep a roof over her head for the sake of Tom and Jack.

  At the back of her mind, she dared to imagine that a day would come when the investigation was over, and the estate was settled where she would be free of the shackles of worrying about her bills. Maybe then, however far down the line that was, she would be able to consider selling up, paying off her debts, and maybe even picking up where she’d left off with Gareth. She smiled wryly to herself at the thought as she boarded the bus and took a seat towards the back, but immediately she felt guilt wash over her at daring to have such optimistic thoughts in the wake of her father’s death.

  Tim

  The walls of the stuffy office felt like they were closing in on him as he tugged weakly at the collar of his shirt. The day that he had been dreading had finally arrived, and the meeting had been concluded. The draft communication was sat in his inbox, but he couldn’t bring himself to send it. The emails and phone calls had started pouring in, and he turned away from his desk feeling suffocated by the onslaught.

  It’s done, Tim told himself. The worst part is over.

  He had somehow managed to keep Emma at bay with false promises and long, complex answers to her short, angry demands that answered nothing but spun her around in the circles. If Tim had learned anything in his life, it was that people would hear what they wanted to.

  It’s her own fault for being so unrealistic. She knew that it would have to be her sites that closed, he tried to reason with himself as her name flashed up on the screen of his phone for the tenth time since the meeting. I did nothing to make her think otherwise.

  It wasn’t even a lie, he tried to justify to himself, that the decision was out of his hands. With the numbers in black and white, there was no way his boss and the rest of the team would accept any other site being the first to close. The Cardiff office was a tiny sales site for their low-credit affinity brand XZ Finance, and the Bristol office housed several hundred staff for their main brand’s customer service team. It was the logical site to move first, but until it was in black and white, Emma seemed to be struggling to understand that it was inevitable.

  He knew that he was far from out of the woods yet; everything he had done so far had been a stall to make it to the trigger point of today’s meeting. Now that he had made it, his plan was to give Emma some space to cool down. She had already spoke with the police over the phone to corroborate his statement, and they had seemed satisfied that he was speaking to her for the entire time that he was not with Eleanor inside the hotel room.

  The Coroner had found no medical reason for Frank to drop down dead, but the head injury was consistent with a fall. If it wasn’t for Linda muddying the water, then Tim was confident that the case would be stamped accidental and they would all be allowed to move on. The lack of a solid alibi for Will and Belle seemed to be dragging the investigation on unnecessarily, and it niggled at the back of his mind that they might inadvertently drag him back into their mess somehow. The last thing he nee
ded was to have to go back over his statement. It was all there in black-and-white, and he dreaded Eleanor finding out that way.

  His temples prickled with sweat as Emma’s name flashed up again on his personal phone. Part of him was tempted to cave and to answer her call, but he held firm watching until it rang off. No, he needed to wait this out. He’d already decided that he’d give her space to cool down; the last thing he wanted to do was tip her over the edge with an off-cuff comment or a scathing tone. If he simply did nothing, she would calm down eventually. She would see that it wasn’t the end of the world, and that there had been nothing further he could do. Once she was in a more reasonable frame of mind then he could talk her properly. In the meantime, though, she wouldn’t risk sullying her own name just to drag him down. She had threatened him out of sheer desperation, he realised as the week progressed, but she hadn’t gone through with any of her threats. She hadn’t gone to his boss, or called his wife, and she hadn’t phoned the police and told them he’d offered her money like she’d hysterically screamed at him that she was going to do. He’d managed to talk her down, but he was still acutely aware that, even if she didn’t know it, she held all the power right now.

  A soft rap at the door interrupted his troubled thoughts, and he looked up to see Marie’s face, pinched with worry, peering through the glass at him.

  “You’re not answering your phone,” she said as if that explained the interruption.

  Tim glanced back down at the screen in confusion as she slipped into the office gently closing the door behind her.

  “Your work phone,” she corrected him.

  He reached for it, seeing for the first time the missed calls from his boss. Marie grimaced, but held out a hand to stop him redialling.

  “He’s just called my line,” she told him apologetically, as if it were her fault for answering it. “He wants to see you upstairs immediately.”