by K. L. Slater
‘We should have had this conversation before now but I didn’t know how, Brid.’
He touched my arm. His eyes looked haunted in the soft light reflecting off the water. The smell of chlorine seemed overpowering all of a sudden and I struggled to breathe. On some level I felt – I knew – he was going to tell me something profound.
I almost told him to stop, to say nothing, but I didn’t speak or move. I sat there, the sound of the water rushing in my ears, and stared at him. Silently pleading with him not to end my world.
‘I love you Bridget,’ he said sadly. ‘I’ve loved you for a long time and it’s because of that – and everything that’s happened – that I have to tell you the truth about the night Jesse died. I can’t keep quiet about it any longer, because it’s the gateway to the truth about everything else.’
Everything else?
‘Oh no, no …’ I whimpered, covering my face with my hands.
My entire body ached. Was my worst fear about to be realised? What if I loved a man who had killed Jesse on purpose? Who had intended knocking him unconscious with that punch, fully aware it might finish him?
He pulled gently at my hands, forcing me to look at him.
The water frothed and bubbled all around us, the firm underwater jets shooting into the bottom of my back. What usually felt relaxing pained me now, my entire body feeling raw. Exposed.
The lights set around the edge of the tub danced innocuously through their repeating spectrum under the dark sky. The colours merged into one swirling mess in front of my swimming eyes.
Tom’s face looked pale and damp as he began. ‘As you know, that night we had a drink in the Mayflower bar first. We were chatting normally about sport, gaming, all the usual stuff, but I could tell there was something bothering Jesse. It’s hard to explain, he wasn’t his usual self. Then later, he was drinking more than usual, shots with his pints, but there was something else, too.’ He pressed his lips together and frowned, reaching for the words that would better articulate what he meant. ‘He was naturally a chatty guy, but when we got to the club, he hardly drew breath. He sounded almost … I don’t know, manic, somehow. Like he was regurgitating all the words he knew so there was no space to think at all.’
He’d told me this before but my muscles felt tight as a drum, braced for the shock that might be coming.
‘It was quiet in Movers, so we didn’t have to queue. When we got in, we landed a booth, which was unusual.’ Tom seemed to slip into a world of his own momentarily, staring out over the garden as he remembered the details of that terrible night. ‘That’s when Jesse started drinking in earnest. He ditched the pints and switched to vodka plus the shots, which were all on two-for-one as it was midweek. I told him to slow down, reminded him I had a training session the next morning, and he called me a wuss. But I kept trying to pull him back because I saw whatever was up with him, the drink was making it worse.’
I opened my mouth and a strange noise came out, halfway between a cry and a wail.
Tom looked at me. ‘I know this must be really painful for you, Brid, but you have to know.’
I focused on keeping my face from crumpling. I imagined the two of them sitting together in the nightclub, the music almost too loud to speak, so loud, you felt the bass beat reverberating off your face, your body. I’d been in Movers twice in my twenties with some of the other office cleaners when someone had a birthday, so I visualised the interior as it was back then.
I couldn’t help wondering why Tom hadn’t told me all this in the two years I’d been visiting him. We’d covered the night Jesse died in the restorative justice programme. He was supposed to recall everything, and yet he’d said nothing resembling this detail. He’d seemed so transparent, like a puppy dog, too innocent to lie to me. As an experienced older woman, I’d always thought I’d see through any deception, any lies.
He began speaking again. ‘After about half an hour of what felt like Jesse drinking himself into oblivion, I shouted over the music for something to say, “How’re things between you and Coral?” He screamed back, “Hey, thanks for asking, mate! Nice to know how much you care,” and then, for want of a better word, he went ape – out of nowhere. It’s the only way I can describe his bizarre behaviour.’
‘What made it so bizarre?’ Jesse had a crazy side, both Tom and I knew that, and I’d always loved him for it. It made him different. Quirky.
‘He sprang up off his seat, ran to the dance floor and threw a few wild moves before coming back and draining his glass. He did that several times. I mean, I kind of realised that me mentioning Coral had flipped a switch somewhere in his head. I thought that was what must have been wrong with him all night, that maybe they’d had an argument and were splitting up or something.’
‘But you said in court he got you thrown out of the club. So did he get worse?’
Tom nodded. ‘He got himself another round of vodka and shots. He didn’t even sit down; he brought them back to the booth and drank them all standing up. Then he stood there looking down at me, this expression of pure fury on his face. I said, “Chill out, will you, mate, what’s up with you tonight?” And he started doing stupid kung fu moves, punching and kicking and getting pretty close to my face. I thought ignoring him was the best policy, and I made my mind up to leave after I’d finished my pint, but then the security guy came over. He told Jesse to sit down, and Jesse retaliated, calling him some pretty nasty names. The next thing I knew, this guy had hold of Jesse by the scruff of his jumper and had dragged him across the dance floor. I followed, trying to reason with him, but then another doorman grabbed me, the emergency exit doors flew open and we were both pushed out onto the street.’
I reached over and turned off the water jets. The garden around us fell deathly quiet, I hadn’t realised how noisy the tub had been. I felt so hot now, like I was overheating. I wanted to climb out but I couldn’t break Tom’s flow. I had to hear this.
‘Jesse was straight up on his feet, spoiling for a fight. Threatening what he’d do to the security staff when he got hold of them. He wanted to go back to the entrance and try to get admitted to the club again.’
‘But you stopped him.’
‘I tried, but he was like a man possessed. Then suddenly, he seemed to forget about it and turned his attention to me instead. He said, “You might as well know, me and Coral are splitting up.” I said I was sorry, but part of me wasn’t surprised. Even though Coral was pregnant, he’d messed her about a bit. He was always chatting up other women when we were out on our own.’
I shifted in the water. It was still uncomfortable for me to accept that Jesse had had that side to him. I didn’t like being reminded of it. ‘Then what happened?’ I pressed, hoping Tom would move on.
‘Well, he stared at me for a few moments and then he said, “You know she’s pregnant, right?” I laughed and said, “Course I do!” I mean, she only had a few months to go; it was fairly obvious to anyone with eyesight.’
‘And then?’
‘Then he went ice cold on me. Within a couple of seconds he seemed sober as a judge, looking me straight in the eye. And then he said, “Funny, is it? You knowing all this time the baby isn’t mine?”’
‘What?’ I whispered, feeling choked. ‘Whose baby did he think it was?’
Tom held up a hand to signal for me to let him finish, but my head swirled dangerously. I felt sick to my stomach.
‘That was my reaction, too. I said, “What? Don’t be stupid, man. Course the baby’s yours, Coral thinks the world of you!” I mean, he’d been so excited about being a dad, you know that yourself, Brid.’
‘Tell me what he said next,’ I muttered between clenched teeth. Underneath the water, my fingernails dug into my thighs. If I didn’t get out of here soon, I was going to faint.
‘Jesse started crying. He said, “She told me herself this morning. The baby isn’t mine.” So I said, “OK, so whose is it then?” trying to reason with him, ’cos he was clearly plastered, and that w
as when he said …’
Tom pulled back a sob and I realised that all the time he’d been talking, in a tone that would suit a discussion about the weather, he’d been holding the emotion tightly in. Tears streamed down his face and a terrible feeling started in my guts. It gathered speed so quickly that within seconds it was inside my head.
Fear. Fear of what he was about to say. Was it … was he about to tell me he was Ellis’s father? I started to get out of the tub. I didn’t want to hear it.
‘Brid, please.’ Tom grasped my arm.
‘Let go of me!’ I shook him off and stood up, and then he opened his mouth and the words coiled out of him like a slippery eel.
‘Coral told Jesse that Robert was the baby’s father. My dad is Ellis’s dad, too. When he’d been giving her a lift home, they … they’d had sex twice, in Dad’s car and … Ellis is my half-brother, Brid.’
The strength drained from my legs in an instant and I went down. I slipped under the water, gulping in mouthfuls of chlorine and chemicals, gasping and choking as I tried to drag in air.
I felt Tom’s strong arms plunge down and grasp me under my arms, and after that, there was nothing. A deep, dark nothingness.
Fifty-Seven
When I woke up, I was back inside the house, wrapped in a big soft towel and lying on the sofa in the kitchen. Tom crouched down, staring at me.
I sat up. I shivered. Then I remembered Ellis was upstairs. ‘We can’t talk about this now, not with Ellis here and—’
‘It’s OK. I’ve been up to check, and he’s fast asleep,’ Tom said.
‘That lie you told me about going back to the gym … what was all that about?’
‘I went to Coral’s house to get the letter I knew she had that proved my sibling DNA link to Ellis. But Coral wasn’t in.’
‘Were you looking for it in Coral’s bedroom when we picked up Ellis’s things?’ I’d been so certain he’d put something in his pocket despite his assurances that wasn’t the case.
Tom nodded. ‘In the paperwork, I found one of Dad’s counselling appointment cards Coral had obviously saved. I slipped it in my pocket.’
I stared at him. He’d lied so convincingly, seemed affronted I’d accused him of such a thing.
‘I needed the DNA letter to explain everything to you and my mum. To prove it. I didn’t know at the time, but Audrey had a copy – Coral had given it to her to help her get money out of Dad. Audrey gave it to Mum today, although she hadn’t opened it when I went round. She’d asked Audrey to leave because she thought it was going to confirm I was Ellis’s father and she felt she couldn’t handle it.’
‘I thought that’s what you were going to tell me, too,’ I croaked, my throat burning from swallowing chlorinated water. I glanced nervously at the door to check Ellis wasn’t there. ‘In the end, though, the result is the same. Ellis isn’t Jesse’s son. He isn’t my grandson.’
Where there had been warmth inside, there was nothing. I felt completely empty.
‘I’m so sorry, Brid. I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you before now, but I couldn’t do it to you or Mum. It had to wait until I was a free man again and able to explain and face everyone’s heartbreak. I did actually put it in a letter to you once when I was in the first year of my sentence. I was at a real low point and I convinced myself you should know. When you told me you’d shredded the letters, I was so relieved. Then years later, we fell in love and—’
‘Is your love real, Tom?’
‘What?’
‘Is your love for me real or did you want to be close to your brother?’
‘My love is as real as it comes.’ He perched on the edge of the sofa and grasped my hands. ‘I love you with all my heart, Brid. Please believe that. Can you forgive me for keeping the truth from you?’
It wasn’t Tom’s fault that Coral had slept with Robert. It wasn’t his fault that Jesse wasn’t Ellis’s father. And it wasn’t Ellis’s fault that I wasn’t his blood grandparent.
‘I wish you’d told me before now but I can imagine how difficult that was. You were in a no-win situation, I get that.’
‘And Ellis? How do you feel about him?’
I didn’t have to think about my answer. ‘You don’t need a blood connection to love someone with all your heart. Ellis is my grandson and I’m his nan and nobody can take that away from us.’
‘Can we do it, do you think, Brid?’ Tom said softly, a tear trickling down his cheek. ‘Can we make a little family, the three of us?’
I touched his face. ‘We can try,’ I whispered.
Fifty-Eight
Nottinghamshire Police
After Tom Billinghurst’s call, it didn’t take Irma’s team long to locate his father, Robert.
‘He’s at home,’ an officer told her. She called Tyra over and five minutes later, they were leaving the station.
When they arrived, Jill Billinghurst stood at the front of the house, the door wide open.
‘He’s in the office. He only got back about half an hour ago, I’ve been holding in everything I want to say to him because I didn’t want him to realise you were coming,’ she said. ‘I’ll get him for you now.’
The officers waited outside. The usual signs of neighbourly interest started around them. An upstairs curtain twitching next door, someone suddenly deciding to sweep the path over the road.
‘Robert?’ Jill called out in the hallway. ‘Some people here to see you.’
Irma and Tyra stood right by the open door. Close enough to hear Robert Billinghurst’s annoyed response to his wife. ‘I told you I’m busy. What is it?’
Jill turned and walked towards them. Irma stepped inside.
‘Mr Billinghurst, I’m Detective Inspector Irma Barrington …’ He babbled over her, but Irma raised her voice. ‘And this is Detective Sergeant Tyra Barnes.’
‘Jill, what the hell is this? What’s going on?’
‘You’re Ellis McKinty’s father, Robert,’ Jill said smoothly. ‘That’s what’s going on.’
‘Now hang on a minute. That’s not true, I—’
‘Save your breath and tell the detectives at the station.’ Jill turned her back on him. ‘I’ll pack up your things while you’re gone. You won’t be coming back here.’
‘Jill! What’s got into you?’
‘We need you to get into the police car now, please, sir,’ a young officer said from behind the detectives.
‘Jill! I can explain everything. Just give me a chance, I’ll—’
‘Bye, Robert,’ she said. ‘Don’t come back here. Ever.’
Irma looked at Tyra and raised an admiring eyebrow.
* * *
In a couple of hours’ time, Robert Billinghurst sat opposite Irma and Tyra in an interview room.
‘Tom killed her,’ he said soon after Tyra had started the video recording. ‘I didn’t want to say in front of his mother but he mowed Coral down and then begged me to take the rap for it.’
Irma regarded him coolly. ‘And what reason would your son have for killing Coral McKinty in cold blood like that, Mr Billinghurst?’
‘He … he … I don’t know! But he’s been trouble all his life and I wouldn’t be at all surprised if he hadn’t got something to do with it. You’ve seen the kind of man he’s turned into, killing his best friend and then marrying Jesse’s mother, who’s not far off twice his age. It’s appalling.’
Irma ignored his comments and relayed to him the evidence they had so far. The DNA proof that Robert was Ellis’s father, Tom’s testimony that Coral had told him about the lifts home Robert provided but also that the sex had been consensual. ‘And on top of all that, we expect to have your car in the pound for forensic examination before the day is out,’ Irma added. ‘What evidence will we find on that, I wonder?’ It was clear Billinghurst was responsible for Coral’s death but Irma had yet to find a solid motive.
Billinghurst’s face crumpled. ‘I swear, it was a complete accident,’ he whispered. ‘I never meant to hurt her. I wouldn
’t do that, not purposely.’
‘Did it not occur to you to telephone for the police and an ambulance, Mr Billinghurst?’ Tyra asked coldly. ‘Did it not occur to you to stay with the victim, to offer some comfort to an obviously dying young woman?’
‘The road, it was so quiet … there was no one around at all.’ Robert covered his face with his hands for a moment. Then, ‘I panicked. I had to get away. It was such a strong compulsion, there was no fighting it.’
The two detectives said nothing for a few seconds. The horror of Billinghurst intentionally leaving Coral McKinty dying in the road hung like a toxic fug in the air. Irma considered him carefully. The epitome of a decent, responsible citizen to look at, and yet underneath the facade he was a cruel, callous individual who had even tried to pin the blame for a young woman’s death on his own son.
‘Let’s go back a few years,’ Irma said. ‘How many times did you have sex with Coral when you offered her a lift home?’
She saw him bridle slightly at her blunt question.
‘Twice,’ he said quietly. ‘That was all it was, a quick fumble each time. We’d park up on a dirt track I knew near her home. I had a nice big car then, plenty of room if you see what I mean.’
Irma battled to keep her nose from wrinkling with distaste.
‘She was eighteen years old and you were …’ Tyra checked her notes, ‘forty-two. Is that right?’
Billinghurst sniffed. ‘Yes.’
Irma enunciated her words carefully. ‘Twenty. Four. Years. That’s one hell of an age gap from an eighteen-year-old girl’s point of view, Mr Billinghurst. In fact, if Coral had been just three years younger, we’d be charging you with rape of a minor.’
‘That’s ridiculous,’ Billinghurst snorted. ‘That little slapper knew exactly what she was doing.’
‘That’s a very interesting response from a man who currently works with female students of a similar age to Coral McKinty back then.’
