Circle of Lies

by Paul J. Teague

  ‘No, we came separately and left as a couple,’ Charlotte replied. ‘I went there with a friend. I met Will on his first day at the camp.’

  Daisy was now shuffling papers in a folder packed with handwritten notes and newspaper cuttings.

  ‘I’ve drawn a complete blank with Bruce,’ she said, examining a page of notes. ‘We shared a father, but I never knew him. I didn’t even realise my parents were on a second marriage until I was at secondary school. My mum never really talked about it until after I left home. There was bad blood there, I think. She’d moved on with her life and didn’t want to go back.’

  ‘Did Bruce’s father stay in contact with you?’

  ‘No, I think there was violence involved. My mum wanted me well clear of him. In fact, I only found out about Bruce through my aunt. She told me at mum’s funeral. She just came out with it out of the blue, like I should have known it all along. Did you know you have a half-brother out there somewhere? Just like that, when I told her I was planning to get the family tree written down after mum died. Would you believe it?’

  Charlotte would have liked to tell that aunt to keep her mouth shut. This could cause her a lot of trouble. Daisy looked like the kind of woman who not only had time on her hands but also had both the motivation and inclination to worry at this particular knot.

  ‘I honestly can’t remember him that well,’ Charlotte reiterated. The broken record approach seemed the best option. Keep repeating the same non-committal thing, and hope that Daisy hit a dead-end, tired from a fruitless search.

  Daisy put her paperwork down on the quilt and turned to Charlotte. She lowered her voice.

  ‘You know, I’m beginning to suspect that Bruce might have been up to no good. As far as I can tell, my natural father and his mother died in nasty circumstances. It’s reported in the newspapers, but it was classed as accidental death. They both died of carbon monoxide poisoning in the family home. It was shortly after Bruce left home to spend his summer at the holiday camp. I know from my aunt that Bruce’s father was a violent man. It had crossed my mind that maybe Bruce disappeared for a reason. I just can’t figure it all out yet.’

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Charlotte was ready for Friday night when it finally arrived. She’d been unsettled by her conversation with Daisy and was looking forward to an evening out. She’d almost forgotten about it, the week had been so busy. The guests were fed, and Will and the kids were home. Lucia was showing no signs of leaving the house having finally returned from her day’s adventures and Olli had agreed to field any guest queries while they were out.

  ‘I can’t wait for tonight,’ Will said. ‘I’m getting a bit stressed out about this job interview next week. I really want it. Imagine working at the university where I got my degree. It feels like things have come full circle.’

  Charlotte’s mind was elsewhere.

  ‘So we’re agreed, we admit to knowing Bruce, but we don’t mention Jenna or anything else that happened. She’s bound to get fed up at some point. Besides, nobody’s missed him in all this time. She’ll tire of it eventually.’

  ‘I agree that’s the best strategy,’ Will confirmed. ‘Ready to go?’

  Abi Smithson had invited them as her guests to a night of show songs at the Regent Bay Holiday Park. They’d seen her on and off since their unconventional reunion, and she still credited Will with launching her musical career. She performed every Friday at the holiday park and had been begging Will and Charlotte to come along for some time. They’d put it off for as long as was polite, then decided they had to fix a date.

  ‘I hope she does Mamma Mia,’ Charlotte said. ‘I’m in the mood for a bit of Abba.’

  Charlotte had always had a soft spot for traditional seaside entertainments, ever since their time at Sandy Beaches. As youngsters, they’d frequented the various bars on the site, enjoying the different styles of music on offer in each. A night at Regent Bay was just what she wanted. It was an opportunity to see their old friend sing some great songs, knock a few drinks back and forget everything for one night. Bruce Craven, Jenna Phillips, Daisy Bowker and Barry McMillan could all take a rain check. Charlotte was desperate to park it all for a few hours and give her mind a rest.

  ‘You came!’ said Abi, jumping up from her seat where she was applying her make-up for the show.

  She welcomed them both with a hug and returned to doing her make-up as she continued the conversation.

  ‘I had a good feeling about tonight,’ she said, ‘I have another old friend joining me; he’s in town, and he should be popping in later. It’s like a night of reunions. I might get him up on stage with me if there’s time. He’s an amazing guy.’

  ‘How’s things?’ Will asked. ‘Sorry it’s been so long since we last saw you. Life’s been busy.’

  They exchanged news, then Abi got the five-minute call that she was next out on the stage.

  ‘If I were you, I’d go and get your drinks in at the bar. It’ll start to get busy soon. I’ll catch up with you later.’

  Will and Charlotte made their exit. The lights were dimmed now, and they had to hunt for two seats and a table.

  ‘I’ll get the drinks in,’ Will shouted over the amplified voice of the DJ. ‘You hang onto my chair.’

  ‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ the DJ’s voice intervened. ‘You’ve seen her on the TV, she’s played the cruise ships and rubbed shoulders with some of the biggest names in the music industry. She started her career right here in Morecambe, and I’m pleased to say that she’s here with us every Friday night. Please welcome onto the stage, Miss Abi Smithson!’

  The place went crazy. Charlotte thought back to Abi’s first tentative performance over three decades ago. Even though she’d never performed in front of a crowd at that time, she’d handled it like a pro; confident, assured and professional.

  ‘I’d like to dedicate this first song to a good friend of mine who’s here tonight, the man who gave me the confidence to step up on a stage and perform my very first song. Please put your hands together for Will Grayson. This one’s dedicated to you, Will, and thank you from the bottom of my heart.’

  As the crowd applauded and Abi began to sing the Shirley Bassey number that she’d debuted at Sandy Beaches Holiday Camp, Charlotte felt a burst of pride in Will. He’d done an amazing thing that day. He’d launched this woman’s career. He’d given her the confidence she needed.

  Charlotte was almost envious of her performing on that stage. She wondered what her own life amounted to. Would it all unravel now that Daisy Bowker was in the resort?

  Will walked up to the table carrying a tray with two drinks.

  ‘Here’s your glass of Prosecco, and a large one at that. When the barman realised it was me who Abi was talking about, he gave us those drinks on the house. And he filled your glass to the brim.’

  Abi performed an amazing set and Charlotte was blown away by the power of her voice and the way she commanded the stage. For an hour, she was captivated by the songs and the atmosphere, and the Prosecco helped to shift her mind away from the events of the past week. As she cheered and sang along, laughing with Will as he struggled to hit the high notes in the sing-a-longs, it was as if none of it had happened.

  As Abi shifted the tempo to a couple of slower songs, it was easier to talk once again as the audience settled. Some just sat and enjoyed the music, while others continued to chat. Charlotte felt light-headed and slightly tipsy. Will had remained a restrained drinker throughout his life, but he’d never given Charlotte a hard time about her own occasional need to get a few drinks down her. She was grateful for that. She needed those drinks, after the week she’d just been through.

  Abi finished her song and began to speak to the audience.

  ‘Now I’d like to welcome another great friend of mine onto the stage. When you tour the circuit and play on the cruise ships, you tend to run into the same people time and time again. This man’s talent and special gifts never cease to astonish me. He’s playing at the
Winter Gardens this weekend; in fact, he’s just come over here after his first performance this evening. Please welcome an amazing friend, and so much more than a clairvoyant. It’s Steven Terry!’

  There was a half-hearted ripple of applause as Steven walked onto the stage.

  ‘Isn’t that the guy you were telling me about earlier?’ Will asked.

  ‘Yes, it is. Funny that he should know Abi.’

  ‘Well, not really,’ Will replied. ‘These performers must meet each other all the time as they tour the country. Do you want another drink?’

  ‘No thanks,’ Charlotte replied. ‘I think I’ve had enough for now. Besides, this chap is interesting. I want to see his act.’

  Steven’s deep, powerful voice dominated the room, and within two minutes, the couldn’t-care-less chatter had turned into silence as the audience turned its attention fully towards the clairvoyant. Steven wore a radio microphone which allowed him to step into the audience. All eyes were on him as he gave his commentary, then began to astound the people around him.

  ‘I get a deep sense that you lost somebody recently. Was their name Phyllis?’ he asked a young woman to the side of him.

  ‘She’s a plant,’ Will said, ‘You watch. This stuff is all a big con.’

  ‘She’s my mum,’ the woman answered.

  ‘Did you lose your mum recently?’ Steven asked gently. The eyes of the room were upon him, yet it felt like the only person he was speaking to was this woman in front of him.

  ‘She died two weeks ago,’ the woman replied, her voice faltering as she said the words.

  ‘Your mum is with you tonight,’ Steven said.

  ‘What a load of bollocks!’ Will whispered to Charlotte.

  ‘She says she’s pleased to see you out enjoying yourself tonight,’ Steven continued. ‘She’s telling me she was in a lot of pain in the end, and she wanted it to be over. She’s in a happy place now. She says she loves you and she thanks you for being with her in her final days. But she wants you to be happy now.’

  ‘I can’t believe guys like him are allowed to get away with this nonsense,’ Will said. ‘Either he’s exploiting her vulnerability, or she’s a set-up. I don’t believe a word of it.’

  Charlotte wished he’d shut up and watch; she was enthralled by it. They’d never seen a clairvoyant in action before.

  Steven Terry was working his way over to their part of the room now. The lights were still dimmed, but a spotlight followed him as he walked among the tables, chatting to the crowd.

  ‘Does somebody know a man called Norman?’

  A woman to Steven’s side raised her hand.

  ‘Is he your husband, my darling?’ he asked.

  The woman nodded.

  ‘He says he loves you and he’s sorry for all the snoring!’

  Charlotte was close enough to see the tears rolling down the woman’s cheeks, but she was laughing.

  ‘He used to snore all night, it would drive me crazy,’ she said.

  ‘Norman knows that,’ Steven said, ‘And he’s laughing and crying with you now, my dear.’

  ‘This is nonsense,’ Will continued to moan.

  ‘It’s not doing any harm, even if it is,’ Charlotte replied, annoyed at his attitude. She was warming to Steven.

  ‘I’m getting a very strong sense of a powerful emotion from this part of the room,’ Steven continued, as he neared their table. Charlotte wondered if he’d recognise her among the sea of faces in the crowd.

  Steven stopped and began to speak in an earnest. The spotlight lit him up, and all eyes were on him.

  ‘Ladies and gentlemen, sometimes this ability I have can be as much a curse as it is a gift. I get a great deal of pleasure from passing on messages from the spirit side, and I know it brings a lot of comfort to people in the rooms I work in. But every now and then, I get a sense of something overwhelming, and I’m getting that right now. I’m not going to put anybody on the spot, or embarrass anybody, but if you want to speak to me in private after Abi finishes her amazing show here tonight, please do so.’

  He paused and looked around him before speaking again. ‘But I have to say something. I’m getting a strong feeling of darkness from this part of the room. Somebody—more than one person, in fact—somebody is carrying a terrible secret with them. If you do not unburden yourselves of this secret, great suffering will follow. I haven’t had such a strong feeling for a long time. Please, if that’s you I’m speaking about, come and see me after the show.’

  Steven began to move again, and as he did so, the spotlight moved too. It came to rest directly on Will and Charlotte’s table. Charlotte saw immediately that Steven recognised her. He looked mortified that he had unknowingly picked her out in the crowd. And the look on Will’s face told her he no longer believed Steven Terry was a charlatan.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  ‘I’m so sorry I put you on the spot like that,’ Steven Terry apologised, for the third time. ‘If I’d known it was you, I would have moved on.’

  ‘It’s all right, honestly,’ Charlotte replied. After a few moments of intense embarrassment, she’d quickly rationalised that what he’d said was meaningless to the entire room, apart from her and Will.

  Will had been floored momentarily, giving her a guilty look across the table. Then he’d dismissed it with his usual scepticism.

  ‘That’s how these people reel you in,’ he said, once the spotlight had moved on to another area of the room. ‘I’ll bet there were people all around us who were thinking about affairs, stuff stolen from work, or lies told to family members. The entire room was probably sweating at that point in the show. I still think it’s a load of nonsense.’

  Just over an hour later, Will was showing signs of changing his tune. Steven Terry had joined them after his short segment had ended, apologetic for what he’d just put Charlotte through. He insisted on buying a bottle of bubbly, took them to a VIP area to one side of the room, and proceeded to entertain them with gripping stories about the things he’d sensed in the past.

  Charlotte had become slowly more inebriated, and although Will had switched to soft drinks, he too was in awe of Steven’s ability to enthral his audience. He pushed the clairvoyant about how he did it, repeating his claims about plants in the audience and selecting general topics which applied to half the room, but the things that Steven told them made him seem all the more convincing.

  ‘I don’t want to pry or interfere,’ Steven said, slurring his words a little from the drink, ‘but you must confide in the police if you’re in danger or fear for your safety. I know what’s going on in this town at the moment; I found one of the bodies, as you know. And you found another, Charlotte. Something links all of this.’

  ‘Can’t you see what it is?’ Will asked. ‘Surely you know what’s going on, if you have visions and so on?’

  ‘It doesn’t work like that,’ Steven explained. ‘I get a sense of things. I can feel sadness, tragedy, impending danger. I don’t see the specifics. But I feel it very strongly with you two, and it’s the same sense I got when I found the body at the Winter Gardens. You need to take action. DCI Summers will give you a sympathetic ear. She’s not all rules and procedure.’

  ‘What do you know about Harvey Turnbull?’ Charlotte asked, feeling her leg drifting away from her chair as she began to lose full control of it. She knew she needed to stop drinking now, or she’d suffer the next day.

  ‘Nothing,’ Steven answered, ‘Though it is a name I overheard DCI Summers mention. Should I know who he is?’

  ‘He’s connected with whatever is going on at the moment. He committed suicide at Adventure Kingdom several years ago. It was quite macabre by all accounts. His head was taken off by one of the trucks on the big dipper.’

  ‘Is that the leisure park that’s closed along the sea front?’ Steven asked. ‘It looks like a ghost town in there with all the rides closed down.’

  ‘That’s the place,’ Charlotte said. ‘I’ve heard a rumour that it wasn�
�t suicide. Would you be able to sense that?’

  ‘Only if I could go to the location where it happened, and even then, it’s not guaranteed. Do you know where it was?’

  ‘Yes, roughly. There’s a bit of the track that extends to the far end of the park, where the customers never went. That’s how he managed to attach himself to the tracks without anybody seeing him. That’s what his widow told us.’

  ‘Can we get in there?’ Steven asked.

  ‘It’s all boarded up,’ Will replied, killing the idea.

  ‘We could climb over the fence,’ Charlotte said.

  ‘You’ve had too much to drink, Charlotte; you can’t go breaking into an old funfair site.’

  ‘Why not?’ Steven asked. ‘We wouldn’t be doing any harm. It might help us figure out what’s going on. We could help the police.’

  Will shook his head in despair. ‘Come on, you two, you’ve drunk too much bubbly. We’re all much too old to do something like this.’

  ‘That’s not what you said when we broke through the fence at Sandy Beaches Holiday Camp,’ Charlotte reminded him. That stopped him in his tracks. She knew it was the drink speaking, but she was convinced Steven Terry might help, and she had to know. She was annoyed with Will. This was their family they were protecting. He should want to know the truth too.

  Within half an hour they’d said their farewells to Abi, taken a taxi to the leisure park and were waiting for the cabbie to drive away so they could climb over the wooden barrier that had been erected around the site. Charlotte staggered a little, struggling to maintain her balance.

  ‘I still can’t believe we’re doing this,’ Will said. ‘How are we going to get over the fencing?’

  Steven Terry knelt on the pavement, placed his hands open on this right knee and smiled at Charlotte.

  ‘I haven’t been caught up in a news story like this since I was last in Blackpool,’ he said. ‘Up you go, Charlotte; you must have done this as kids, surely?’

  It was undignified, ungainly and slow, but between the three of them, they managed to push, shove and pull each other over the flimsy wooden fence.