Nasty Bitch

by K Leitch

  Something about what Jay had said struck a chord with Carla…she remembered another conversation…with Ted after they had just discovered that Vanessa had killed her sister and stolen her passport…‘That clever bitch,’ she had said to Ted.

  ‘Did you manage to find a photo Jay?’ Carla asked trying to force down the excitement welling up inside her.

  ‘Yeh sure…um it’s here somewhere I got Mandy to make some copies…here.’

  He handed Carla an A4 size picture of his wedding day…he looked smarter than she’d ever seen him in a dark suit and tie, smiling proudly at the woman standing next to him, a tallish girl with short dark curls smiling serenely at the camera…Vanessa!

  Carla handed the picture to Frank without saying a word…he just stared at it as if in shock.

  ‘Bloody hell,’ he said at last, ‘bloody hell…all this time, she was so close by…’

  ‘What?’ said Jay puzzled, he took the picture back and looked at it again, ‘what?’ he asked again.

  ‘Well I can tell you who your wife is Jay,’ said Carla, ‘it’s Vanessa Poole.’

  CHAPTER 61

  Vanessa parked the little rental car a mile or so outside the village and walked the rest of the way. It was dark tonight so she felt reasonably safe as she walked along the familiar roads, despite her photograph appearing on TV and most of the police force in England being on the lookout for her. She figured that being hidden in plain sight had worked for her so far, why not one last time?

  She had one more score to settle before she left this little village for good. She had changed her appearance yet again and her identity, she hoped she would be able to keep this one permanently this time…it had cost her enough, still once the farm in America had sold…money hadn’t been a problem.

  She was by the green now, walking past the little cottages that surrounded it, so pretty with their chintz curtains and pastel coloured doors and windows. Most of the residents were in bed by now…sleeping the sleep of the righteous she thought with a sneer. A few lights still glittered… notably in the place she was headed…The Bull public house…her pub. She had been so full of dreams when they had moved here. Giles, poor pathetic Giles, had been in his element as the welcoming landlord and she had revelled in her role as gracious hostess.

  Vanessa wiped impatiently at the hot tears that were streaming down her face. ‘Don’t start now,’ she told herself crossly, ‘plenty of time for tears later…when this is over.’

  She crept up the back stairs on the outside of the pub, they led to the kitchen of the flat above…her old flat, she tried the door…locked.

  Vanessa had leant a few tricks of the trade over the last few years, she took a set of complicated looking keys out of her pocket and after a few minutes fiddling around the back door was open, she went inside.

  The lights she had seen from the outside seemed to be coming from the hall that ran down the centre of the flat…everywhere else seemed to be in darkness. Vanessa made her way through to the living room…it hadn’t changed all that much apart from a lick of paint and some new furniture, tacky stuff, Vanessa thought. She tried hard not to look in the direction of the door…the last time she’d looked there the body of her sister had been hanging from it. Vanessa gave herself a shake, she needed to get a move on, her flight was at three tomorrow morning from Stanstead airport, she had to finish up here and get to the airport in time for check in.

  She reached inside her coat and pulled out a plastic wrapped parcel that she had been carrying, she opened the bag. Her eyes began watering almost immediately from the petrol fumes that came from it, she held it away from her looking around for the best place to put it. Looking again at the cheap sofa, she pushed the petrol sodden rag down in between the back cushions leaving a corner out…enough for her to set a flame to.

  She lit the rag…the cloth immediately turned into a fire ball with white heat licking up the back of the sofa and up the walls behind. Vanessa walked quickly back out into the hallway closing the living room door behind her. She had almost made it back to the kitchen when the back of her head seemed to explode with pain and she fell to the floor unconscious.

  Martha McKinny had heard Vanessa the minute she had come into the flat. Despite being well into her nineties and just a tad dotty, her hearing was as sharp as a bell.

  Poppy and Gabe were at a meeting at the church hall tonight, and after making sure that Martha was comfortable and had everything she needed, they had left her to her own devices…she had been having a lovely time watching a racy American drama that Poppy refused to watch, when she had heard someone coming in through the kitchen door.

  From the door of her bedroom, she had seen the intruder, seemingly a young man in a hoody, go into the living room and had waited just along the hall until he came out. She had armed herself with the baseball bat which she kept beside her in her bedroom. Once Vanessa had come out of the room and was heading back into the kitchen she had hefted an almighty blow down upon the intruder’s head. She was amazed and more than a bit impressed at her own strength, and was now looking down at the inert body on the floor with satisfaction.

  ‘Now what shall I be doing with you,’ she muttered to herself. She went into the kitchen and found some old washing line, which she used to tightly bind the housebreakers hands behind his back. Once she was sure that her prisoner was secure she went to go into the living room to call for help.

  She didn’t notice the heat coming from the door until she opened it wide. White hot flames exploded out towards her as the fire, now greedy for oxygen, surged out into the hallway, the heat had knocked Martha to the ground and she stayed down, knowing it to be the safest place.

  Her lungs were screaming as they filled with hot smoke and fumes. She tried to drag herself along towards the kitchen…if she could just make it there she could get outside. She was coughing hard now, every cough shaking her tiny frail body…inch by inch she moved along the endless hallway getting weaker with every pull and push. She was failing…she’d never make it…she thought she could see Joseph her husband calling her, telling her to keep going.

  ‘Come on now me darling…don’t you be giving up on me now…come on Martha girl…’ she could hear him calling her name over and over getting louder and louder. She felt a stabbing pain in her chest…it took her breath away…she couldn’t breathe…Joseph…Joe…I’m coming… wait for me…Joe.

  Helen had been at a meeting in the church hall, with Poppy, who worked at the pub as the head chef, Poppy’s son Gabe, Tracy, and the Reverend Sinclair. They had been discussing the changes to Maggie’s wedding day celebrations, which of course didn’t include her wedding anymore but Maggie and Tracy had come up with a novel use for the time booked in the church and the planned decorations all of which had been made and paid for.

  ‘I can’t see any problem,’ Reverend Sinclair was saying, ‘as long as you have the proper certificates etc. Actually it seems to me a splendid plan, a day for joyful celebrations all round.’

  Reverend Sinclair had been a changed man since meeting Jerry’s valet Tiny; it had been love at first sight across the dry cleaning counter. Tiny had been trying to explain to Mrs Choi, who spoke very little English, about getting the fake tan stains out of one of Jerry’s dress shirts, when Reverend Sinclair had offered his services, explaining the problems to Mrs Choi in perfect Mandarin, which he had been learning at evening classes in Redbank. Their eyes had met and the rest as they say is history. Tiny quit his job with Jerry and moved into the vicarage, causing a minor earthquake of disapproval from a few of the local residents. The Reverend, however, had ignored all the nasty looks and sniggering comments…he was happy and that was that.

  The meeting had progressed successfully and they were getting ready to go their separate ways when Poppy let out a shriek of horror and started running off towards the pub, shouting, ‘FIRE… FIRE’ at the top of her voice.

  It only took a minute for the rest of them to take in the situation and soon they w
ere all running hard towards the pub, which was now burning fiercely.

  ‘Yes that’s right,’ shouted Tracy breathlessly into her phone. ‘The Bull…it’s in Kenley village…oh please hurry I think there’s an old lady trapped inside.’

  Gabe and the Reverend had run straight up the side steps trying to get into the flat. The fire seemed to be mainly in the living areas and smoke was billowing out of the kitchen windows which had blown out dramatically.

  It was probably only about ten minutes, but it seemed like forever before the fire engines came screaming down the road. The firemen immediately attached their hoses and started soaking the building.

  ‘Please,’ wailed Poppy, ‘Martha McKinny is in there…she is very old…please try and get her out.’

  ‘Where would she have been?’ asked the fireman.

  ‘The back bedroom…she was in bed watching TV,’ said Poppy. ‘Oh god poor Duncan…oh how can I tell him I left her on her own…I’ll never forgive myself.’ Poppy was beside herself with grief and guilt.

  Gabe and Reverend Sinclair came coughing and spluttering down the steps after the fire team had gone in. The Reverend collapsed on the ground coughing, his eyes streaming…just then a roaring giant came running over, gathering the spluttering man in his arms and sobbing, ‘Freddy…oh thank god you’re safe.’ The paramedics practically had to drag Tiny off so that they could make sure that the Reverend was ok.

  A big crowd was gathering on the green by now…people staring in horror at their pub which was being consumed by flames.

  Tracy and Poppy watched arm in arm waiting for a sight of Martha. Poppy was sobbing uncontrollably next to her but she didn’t take her eyes off the steps leading to the flat… waiting…waiting for any sign that Martha was safe. At last a fireman came out of the door with an inert form over his shoulder; he took her straight over to the waiting ambulances where she was surrounded by paramedics.

  ‘Oh sweet Jesus please let her be ok,’ Poppy prayed as she ran over to where the paramedics were, pushing her way through…she looked down at the woman on the ground her hands and feet tied up with her old washing line. This wasn’t Martha, Poppy didn’t know who it was.

  ‘Oh my god it’s Vanessa!’ exclaimed Tracy who had pushed her way in next to her. ‘What the bloody hell was she doing in there?’

  She didn’t have time to wonder because Poppy began screaming beside her as another body was being hauled out of the burning building, this time it was Martha.

  Martha was put on a stretcher, oxygen mask over her tiny bird like face which was black with soot. She was alive, but struggling for breath and complaining of pain in her chest. Both women were whisked off to hospital, sirens screaming all the way.

  Carla turned up after all the excitement was over. It was her night off and she and James had taken the kids out for a pizza. She had only heard about the fire after they had been passed by the two ambulances and she had called the station to find out what was happening.

  The pub was a smouldering wreck, although it seemed that most of the damage had been in the flat above the pub.

  ‘Two casualties Ma’am,’ the constable at the scene told her when she arrived. ‘One elderly lady believed to be Martha McKinny and one unknown woman…both taken to Redbank general.’

  Carla thanked him and went over to speak to the fire investigation officer who had just arrived.

  ‘Any idea how it started yet Jeff?’ she asked him.

  ‘Give me a chance Carla,’ said Jeff smiling at her, ‘at least let me get my boots on.’

  Carla laughed and let him get on; she spotted Tracy waving at her and went over.

  ‘What the bloody hell happened Tracy…did you see anything?’ she asked.

  ‘Oh my god Carla it was so awful…we saw the flames as we came out of the church hall. Poppy spotted it first and started running towards the pub shouting at the top of her voice…she was so scared…she’d left Martha on her own you see. Well she was only at the church hall, she didn’t think anything like this was going to happen…’ Tracy broke off as she remembered. ‘How amazing that it was Vanessa though…I mean what the hell was she doing…unless she started it, I bet that’s it…’

  ‘WHAT!’ shouted Carla, ‘what did you say… what about Vanessa?’

  ‘It was her…Vanessa…it was her, she was in the pub, they’ve taken her to the hospital…oh…ok I suppose she must be in a hurry,’ said Tracy to herself as Carla charged off towards her car.

  Carla raced to the hospital, radioing to the doctor in charge on the way that they were on no account to let the fire victims out of their sight until she got there. The doctor that she spoke to laughed at her, ‘They are going nowhere Detective…the younger woman hasn’t regained consciousness yet…but yes we will keep an eye on them.’

  Then she called Frank, ‘We’ve got her Frank… Vanessa…we’ve got her.’

  CHAPTER 62 - CAULDRON MEETING

  In a marquee in Maggie’s garden, after celebrating the wedding of Ms Helen Drover to Ms Maya Dronski…everyone a little worse for wear, too much food, too much drink and (in Carla’s case) too much sex in a portable toilet.

  The day had been brilliant; Maggie had offered to host Helen’s and Maya’s wedding not long after she had realised that all her careful plans for her own wedding would come to nothing.

  Both the brides had looked gorgeous, the bridesmaids and page boys were as cute as can be and the sun had been shining the whole day.

  Maggie had been given the surprise of her life when Ruth, her sister had arrived a few days earlier…she planned on staying for a few weeks to make sure her sister was on the mend. The girls had cried together and talked long into each night. Maggie had taken Ruth to meet Duncan who was still recovering, and they had hit it off straightaway…she had actually had him laughing at one point, something Maggie had failed to do so far.

  Duncan and Maggie were being very careful around each other at the moment. Maggie had fallen so deeply in love with him that she was taking it very slowly, and Duncan…well he was so amazed that this gorgeous woman actually loved him, that he turned into a nervous schoolboy whenever she was around.

  But the love was there…and it would flourish, they would make sure of that.

  Tracy felt like she had cried the whole day; Helen and Maya looked so happy and so in love, and when Wills had walked Helen down the aisle to give her away, holding little Abby’s hand as he did so…that had been it, the water works had started and had just kept flowing. She was looking at Maggie and Ruth now with their heads together. It had been all Maggie had needed…to have her sister with her…she was slowly getting back to the Maggie that they all loved.

  Tracy couldn’t help feeling a bit smug herself …life was pretty good for her at the moment. Her house was looking beautiful, Zack and Tilly were the most amazing, good looking and intelligent children that any mother could wish for, and as for Simon…well he had just told her that he had booked a holiday for them all in Antigua, where they would be getting married. They had decided a few weeks ago that they didn’t want to try and outshine Helen and Maya’s day and a wedding abroad was the best solution. Tracy’s mum, dad and sister and Simon’s mum would be meeting them out there. Tracy couldn’t think of anything better…and this champagne was terribly moreish she thought as she nabbed a couple of glasses from a passing waiter.

  ‘Have I told you how gorgeous you look today?’ whispered James into Carla’s ear.

  ‘Just about twenty times,’ said Carla smiling, ‘and then of course in the toilets…oh and in the car on the way to the church…and…’

  ‘Ok,’ laughed James, ‘so I go on a bit…by the way who is the girl with Frank…he seems very attentive?’

  Carla snorted, ‘I know…amazingly so, especially as I saw him being extremely attentive to her sister in the car park earlier on.’

  ‘Bloody hell where does he get the energy, I can only just cope with one woman demanding my attentions…I am seriously impressed by his stam
ina.’

  ‘He eats his greens…if you ate your greens you could probably have a string of panting women…’

  ‘Hmm tempting…’ he said thinking about it, ‘but no…I just don’t like greens.’ Carla giggled and gave him a kiss.

  Carla felt as if a weight had been lifted off her shoulders; Kerry Webb had been sentenced to a total of one hundred and sixty years in prison… eight life sentences, she would never get out.

  Martha and Duncan were both on the mend. Martha had suffered a heart attack whilst trying to drag herself out of the fire, but had survived and was as lively as ever…amazing woman. Duncan had Maggie which was all the incentive any man should need to get better. The pub hadn’t been as badly damaged as was first feared, and as soon as the insurance had paid out, work had begun on getting it back to its former glory.

  Duncan and Martha were staying with Simon and Tracy until they could return to their home. Amazingly, Nora, Tracy’s unsociable next door neighbour, had offered to have Poppy and Gabe stay with her while the work was being done…an unlikely mix to be sure, but so far it was working out well, in fact Carla suspected that Nora was thoroughly enjoying the company.

  Vanessa was in prison awaiting trial. Her lungs had been badly damaged in the fire, and she would feel the effects of it for the rest of her life.

  She had hired the best defence lawyer she could find and was fighting right up to the end…but the long and short of it was that she would spend the rest of her life in prison.

  She had just smiled resignedly at Carla, when Carla and Frank had gone to the hospital to officially arrest her.

  ‘Oh well…I nearly made it, if it hadn’t been for that stupid old woman I’d be in Canada by now,’ she said with a shrug.

  ‘I just don’t get why you had to do the things you did Vanessa,’ said Carla. ‘I mean…why the fox in the kitchen, why destroy Helen’s work…Hester Binworthy’s cat…and Rosie, why Rosie Vanessa?’