by J. A. Baker
‘It’s true!’ Peggy cries at her, tears rolling thick and fast, a stream of fear and dread, her tone defensive.
‘You’re going to tell me that one thing led to another now, aren’t you?’
‘Yes! Because it did!’ Peggy is shrieking, her voice a rattle as her pitch increases in volume. ‘Alec and I have tried for years to have children but I’ve had miscarriage after miscarriage. I got depressed, found it difficult to leave the house, became fixated on these fucking things!’ she yells, pointing at the mesh of scars covering her eye, ‘and Sheryl was there for me. She listened to me. But then it all started to go wrong. She became obsessive, refusing to take no for an answer, telling me I should leave Alec and be with her …’
‘And?’ Audrey says sharply, her expression hawk-like as she watches Peggy.
‘And she came here that day,’ Peggy whispers, ‘determined that she was coming in. Alec was out, fortunately. It may well have turned out very differently if he’d been here.’
‘But he wasn’t, was he? So, what happened, Peggy? What happened to Sheryl that day? What did you do to her?’ Audrey stares up at the clock and back at her daughter, sending her heart jiggling around her chest. Peggy thinks of Rachel and the taxi driver and the police and pictures them arriving at Chamber Cottage, at her home, an official, angry mass of officers like a swarm of killer insects, slapping her in handcuffs and arresting her, and before she can do anything, she is violently sick, vomit spewing out of her, spreading on the table, dripping onto the floor, covering her clothes, a thick trail of bile oozing over everything; warm and sticky, a pool of guilt for all to see.
‘Oh Peggy!’ Audrey cries as she stares down at the mess, ‘For heaven’s sake, girl! You need to stop this right now!’
In an instant, she moves away and Peggy watches silently as her mother sails around the room, purposeful and determined. She arrives back wearing rubber gloves, armed with a bucket and mop and a handful of towels and clothes. Peggy feels her arms being yanked upwards and her clothes hoisted over her head. Her trousers are pulled down and she feels her legs being guided into something soft. She looks down and sees that she is wearing a pair of joggers. A sweatshirt is pulled on over her head as Peggy stands, pliant and malleable, no energy left. Nothing in reserve. She watches her mother as she mops it all up, the contents of Peggy’s stomach, the acidic tell-tale signs of the terrible atrocity she has committed. Even her own body wants to reject her.
The smell remains despite Audrey using every detergent she can get her hands on and scrubbing until everywhere gleams. It refuses to leave. Just like the stain on the step. All blemishes are residual guilt, thinks Peggy as she remembers the blood on the concrete, how it kept reappearing, a reminder of what she did. A reminder that she is a cold-blooded murderer.
Audrey flops down in the chair, her brow beaded with sweat, ‘Right, once I’ve put everything away, you’re going to explain it all to me, how it happened, what you did and of course the most important thing,’ she says, her breath a series of small, hot gasps as turns to face Peggy.
‘Which is what?’ Peggy cries, her rapidly shrivelling sanity barely able to take any more prodding.
Audrey darts a look Peggy’s way, veiled and mildly threatening. Peggy feels herself shrink under her mother’s gaze as she listens to her words, ‘You know what I’m talking about, Peggy. Please don’t try to be coy. I need to know where you’ve put her body …’
49
Alec
Dinner is a blur, quite literally. After draining the mini bar in his room, Alec continues to drink downstairs. Propped up on a barstool, he talks to the waiter about his journey down, the troubles of working in a school and the joys of living so close to the North Sea with its fabulous views and unwelcoming weather. Only as the barman moves away and stands idly at the other end of the bar, drying glasses all too slowly, does Alec slow down and think that perhaps he should really get something to eat to soak up the copious amounts of alcohol he has consumed on an empty stomach.
Stumbling through to the dining room, he finds a seat and orders the first thing on the menu, chomping through it noisily when it arrives, a plate of tasteless food, no more than fuel to fill the gnawing hole in his belly where the beer and red wine are currently sloshing around; a gallon of alcohol making him giddy and reckless.
He stares around. The place is empty. Everyone else from the other schools will be stopping at the hotel over the road. He prefers it here. It’s quieter; gives him time to think, to relax and prepare himself for the conference in the morning.
Alec wipes his mouth and pushes his chair back from the table. An adequate meal. Nothing too fancy, which is just as well, given the amount he’s had to drink. Anything different would have made him feel queasy; too many culinary delights would have pushed him over the edge. He stares over at the bar. Inviting, but he’s already had far too much to drink. He looks around. A couple in the corner are sitting close together, their hands cupped together, their eyes locked in a romantic gaze. He feels a pang of guilt and a small stab of jealousy as they continue to stare at one another, oblivious to the world around them. He remembers a time when he and Peggy used to do that, spend long evenings whispering sweet nothings to one another with the promise of hot, rampant sex afterwards. Now all they seem to do is argue and bicker; their lives one long round of work commitments, financial woes, and marriage problems. He would give anything to go back to those days, to a time when nothing mattered but one another. Even being saddled with debt didn’t feel so cumbersome and worrying when you had love and a raging libido to keep you going.
He stands up and staggers over to the stairs before deciding he’s had too much to drink to even attempt them and makes his way over to the lift instead. His fingers jab at the button, clumsy and exhausted. He needs to sleep; the drive has just about done him in.
An image of Audrey fills his head as he waits for lift doors to open. Funny how things have turned out, isn’t it? Her living with them after so long apart. Got to be a good thing, really, her and Peggy getting back together after all these years. A fresh start. A way forward out of all the shit they’ve been through. All that rubbish in the past. He can see that Audrey is a strange one - she dances to her own tune. And dominant too. But so what? That’s not always a bad thing. The world would grind to a halt if it was full of shrinking violets. Nothing would get done.
The lift doors open, the whooshing sound jolting him out of his thoughts. He steps inside, thinking that Peggy needs to get over it all and move on and stop being so difficult and unyielding about everything. When he gets back they will all talk about it. He’ll get her to start being more positive. He’ll do his bit as well. He’ll start being more supportive, they’ll go out places together. All it needs is a bit more effort, a touch more thoughtfulness and everything will be just fine. Audrey stepping back into their lives may well prove to be the catalyst for getting their lives back on track. She might just be the tonic they all so desperately need.
Alec steps out of the lift and unlocks the door to his room, suddenly grateful for the bed that seems to beckon him the minute he steps inside. He stares at his watch. He should really give Peggy a call. She hasn’t answered his message. Kicking his shoes off, he flings himself sideways onto the duvet, a tangle of drunken arms and legs as he lands in an indecorous heap on the mattress. He just needs five minutes to let his food settle then he’ll ring her. That’s all he needs. Just a little time to rest after all the food and drink.
The room begins to spin as Alec closes his eyes. Too much wine. He doesn’t know why he does it. It always has the same effect on him. Stupid, really. He closes his eyes to stop the spinning and before he can stop it, the arms of darkness drag him away.
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When he wakes, it’s pitch black outside and the noises of the city have slowed down, become a dull thump in the d
istance. Fatigue swamping him, he climbs under the bedsheets fully clothed and falls back into a deep, deep sleep.
When the call wakes him he sits up, dishevelled and disorientated. Rubbing at his eyes, he snatches up his phone and barks into it, still dog tired, his voice gravelly from the drink, wishing he hadn’t had that last glass of merlot as the voice down the phone tells him things that his addled brain is in no state to comprehend. He’s still asleep. He has to be. This isn’t real. Things like this don’t happen to people like him. He tries to stand up but the room tilts violently, so much so that he feels nauseous. He flops back down on the bed and listens to the voice on the other end, refusing to believe what he is hearing.
50
Audrey
The wind is starting to whip up outside. Audrey listens as it claws at the windows, its icy fingers scratching at the glass. Peggy sits opposite her, head dipped, her hair a tight mass of black curls. Audrey waits. Easier to let her cry. Get it out of her system, but at some point, they need to do something. Time is against them. Rachel didn’t make any threats but any fool could see she meant business.
‘Lift your head up, Peggy. You need to talk to me. The longer you leave it, the greater the chances are of the police calling round. You have to tell me what went on.’
Peggy’s eyes are baggy with despair as she slowly raises her head and stares at her mother. Audrey has to stop herself from letting out a gasp. Her daughter suddenly looks a hundred years old, as if all the life has been sucked out of her. Her skin is grey, her body emaciated from the strain of keeping such a dark secret from everyone. Audrey wants to cry, to shriek at how unfair this all is. She has her daughter back after so long and is now about to lose her again. All this time she was so sure it was Alec. She was desperate for it to be him, would have given anything to see him burn, and now everything has been turned on its head. Her world has been inverted and she needs to work out what she should do to limit the damage. Peggy is in no fit state to deal with any of this. It’s down to her to do it. And she will. Whatever it takes, Audrey will do it. What Peggy has done is obviously a terrible thing, but now it is her job, as Peggy’s mother, to help and protect her. For so many years she let her daughter down. She has a lot of time to make up for, so the sooner she starts, the better.
‘She tried to get in the house,’ Peggy whispers, ‘and I tried to stop her. I had to. She would have stayed, told Alec. She even threatened to ruin my career. She would stop at nothing to get what she wanted.’ More tears fall as Peggy stares at her mother. Audrey has to bite her lip to stop herself from crying. Her own daughter, sitting here, describing to her how she killed somebody. This is outrageous. Worse than anything Audrey has ever encountered. Worse than Peter dying, worse than almost losing her life in that blasted fire.
‘And?’ Audrey asks tentatively, her skin hot with the horror and shame of it all.
‘We got into a tussle. She was demanding to come in. I just knew if I let her in, I wouldn’t be able to get her out again. She was always so determined with everything she did. Oh God!’ Peggy dips her head again and covers her face with her hands, ‘I didn’t mean for it to happen! I tried to push her away, get her away from me so I could close the door, but she fell and hit her head on the step. The blood …’
Another shriek escapes as Peggy’s body begins to rock backwards and forwards. ‘There was so much blood coming out of her head. I didn’t know what to do! I just panicked.’
‘So … what exactly did you do?’ Audrey stares again at the clock, acutely aware of each passing second, aware of the pressing need to do something about this whole ghastly situation.
‘I … I dragged her round the back of the house. I couldn’t see her breathing or anything. No movement. She was dead, I’m sure of it, and I was terrified so I—’
‘You’re SURE of it?’ Audrey shouts, her pulse racing, galloping around her chest and rattling in her neck, ‘Jesus, Peggy! Please tell me you tried to help her? To call an ambulance or clean her up or ANY bloody thing?’
‘STOP IT! Just stop it, please!’ Peggy tears at her hair again, great, long strands of it coming away in her fingers.
‘Peggy! Calm down and tell me what you did.’ Audrey’s voice fills the room, authoritative and booming. It stops Peggy in her tracks.
She stares at her mother, bleary eyed, mouth gaping open before speaking slowly, enunciating each word as if they are poison she is trying to spit out, ‘I dragged her body round the back of the house and put it in the tunnel.’
Audrey feels herself swoon as she leans back and takes a deep, rasping breath. ‘Tunnel? Peggy, what the hell are you talking about? What tunnel?’
‘There’s a tunnel under the house,’ she replies quietly, staring at her mother.
Audrey watches in silence, notices how the light has gone from her daughter’s eyes. Nothing but darkness. She’s said it now; there’s no going back.
‘It runs from the back garden through to the cellar under the cottage. We never use it. It was the only thing I could think of …’ Peggy doubles over, her body deflated, defeated. Audrey wants to straighten her out, to shake her back to life. They have to do something. Not tomorrow or even in an hour. They have to act now, get that lady out of there; drag her rotting body out and dispose of it.
An idea charges into her head, stampeding over every rational thought, pushing logic and emotions aside. It’s possible. They could do it. It’s the only way she can see of them getting out of this mess they’re in. Because it is them, in it together. She won’t leave Peggy on her own with this. Not again. They’ve had too long apart. There’s no way she will go through another twenty years without her daughter at her side. Beatrice will never come back home now. She can see that. Her life is in America. She is settled and happy. But Peggy is here. They can get things back on track - make a go of it again. Despite all this nonsense that is happening, Audrey can see beyond it. She can visualise a life with her youngest daughter at her side, their rifts finally healed. She has had a lot of time to think about it and no way is she about to let this chance pass her by. She will do this and she will be Peggy’s saviour. They’ll be united by guilt. But that’s fine. She can handle that. Time will heal that particular wound and she will be around to help Peggy through it. Her daughter always was vulnerable - an overly sensitive soul. Audrey is stronger than that. She will have enough strength for the both of them.
‘Show me where it is,’ Audrey says coolly, ‘this tunnel you mentioned. Lead me to it and then I will tell you exactly what we are going to do.’
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‘Why is it here? I mean what is the purpose of it?’ Audrey stands behind Peggy, her eyes darting everywhere. She hunches down, partly to look at the doors concealed by the shrubbery and partly to escape the biting wind that feels as if it contains shards of ice. She stares around at the surrounding grassland and moss-covered stones. Nobody around to watch them. Peggy is fortunate in that respect. What would she have done if she had lived in the suburbs, closed in and overlooked on every side? She would have had to let Sheryl in, suffer the consequences of her visit. But here they are, high up on a cliff with a body to dispose of and all because of one split second decision.
Peggy sniffs hard and rubs at her eyes as she bends down and pulls the weeds and undergrowth apart. Audrey watches her hands, sees how they tremble and wonders if she will actually be able to go through with this.
‘We don’t know for certain. Possibly a hiding place for smuggler’s goods hundreds of years ago. Rumour has it some of the coastguards were corrupt, helping the smugglers by stashing the contraband.’ Peggy stops abruptly, her breathing shallow and erratic.
Audrey watches as she stands up and brushes the dirt from her hands, rubbing them on the old fleece she put on her after the bout of sickness. She really needs Peggy to hold it together now, to be the strongest she can be.
She has to do it if she wants to get out of the mess they are in. The police will find the body in no time at all. The sniffer dogs can seek out a cadaver in a matter of minutes.
‘Okay, Peggy, I need you to look at me and listen really, really carefully. We have to move quickly and we can’t afford to make any mistakes. Do you hear me?’ Audrey takes both of Peggy’s arms and stares at her closely, not wanting to register the haunted look in her eyes or her gaunt, grey features. Time is of the essence here.
Peggy nods mutely, her jaw hanging loosely as she watches her mother silently. A small line of saliva runs down out of her mouth, bubbles of spit clinging to her quivering chin. Audrey reaches forward and gently wipes it away with her outstretched finger.
‘Right, I realise you don’t want to see this but I’m going to have to open these doors and get her out of here. I want you to go back inside and get a large sheet, something big enough to cover her up with.’
Peggy’s eyes widen in horror and she begins to moan, slow and quietly at first, building in crescendo and strength as it suddenly dawns on her what her mother is going to do. Without thinking, Audrey clamps her hand over Peggy’s mouth, a tight vice of silence.
‘Stop it Peggy! You have to calm down; do you hear me?’
Audrey sees the terror in her eyes and feels Peggy’s head shake as she nods. Great blobs of tears roll down her face, sliding over the side of Audrey’s hand as her fingers stay clasped over Peggy’s trembling, slack mouth. She looks around quickly and drags Peggy down onto the cold, damp grass.
‘I’m going to explain what we’re going to do, okay?’
Peggy’s head rocks back and forth, her eyes darting around her head like tiny, black marbles.
‘Once you’ve got a blanket or something to put her in, we’re going to put her in the car. Are you with me so far?’ Audrey is speaking slowly, desperate for her intentions to be crystal clear in Peggy’s head. They can’t afford to make any mistakes.
