Be Careful What You Wish For

by Vivien Brown

  In the end, I just stand and pick up the statue thing and go, slowly, carefully, and as silently as I can.

  I leave the door open, onto the landing. Someone will find her. Someone will help her. But it’s not going to be me.

  Chapter 33

  MADI

  ‘This was a lovely idea, Madi. I haven’t had a day out at the beach for ages. Not since Barb went away.’

  ‘Well, you should. Do it more often, I mean. The walking’s good for you, and the sea air.’

  ‘Just not the sort of thing I ever imagined doing on my own, I suppose. I thought she’d always be there. Still, it’s certainly brought the colour back into your cheeks.’

  ‘I’m loving it. I haven’t had waves rippling over my bare toes for years! But I am feeling a bit tired now. Do you mind if we sit for a while?’

  ‘Of course not. You should have said.’ Tom took the rolled-up mac from under his arm and spread it out on the sand. ‘There! Not sure why I brought it really, as there’s hardly a cloud in sight. After yesterday’s downpour, I guess we’ve been lucky, but at least the old mac’s come in handy for something.’

  ‘It’s so empty here,’ Madi said, sitting down and adjusting her pose to avoid a large pebble, which was digging into the back of her leg. ‘Peaceful.’

  ‘The families don’t tend to come spilling out until the afternoon, when school finishes. The Easter holidays are nearly upon us though, and everywhere will be much more packed then, whatever the weather. Otherwise, it’s just the dog walkers at this time of day.’

  ‘Have you ever thought of getting a dog yourself? It’d be company for you, and the perfect reason to force yourself out for a bit of exercise every day.’

  ‘Are you saying I’m in need of exercise, young lady?’ Tom put both hands around the flesh above his waistband and wobbled it.

  ‘I didn’t mean you were fat!’

  ‘No, I know you didn’t. Only teasing. And, yes, I have thought about it. Getting a pet. A little elderly cat like Flo from one of those rescue places, or a budgie or something. But a dog’s a big commitment …’

  ‘Any pet is a commitment, Tom. That’s why I don’t have one, with my lifestyle. It wouldn’t be fair. But you …’

  ‘I know, but the other worry, for me, is what happens if, or when, I can’t look after it any more? If I end up a few years down the line incapacitated, or unable to go out walking, or dead even? Animals can live a good few years. A pet could outlive me, and who’d take care of it then? I’m happy to leave my daughters all my worldly goods, but I don’t want to lumber them with costs and responsibilities …’

  ‘Oh, please, stop being so morbid. You’re in your sixties, not your eighties! You’ve got years of good active life in you yet.’

  ‘We can’t know that, Madi. Look at my Barbara …’

  ‘What about her? Her illness was a nasty trick of fate, unforeseeable, sad, but there’s no reason to suppose it’s going to happen to you too. And is this what she would want? You putting your own life on hold, putting your own dreams and plans aside, just in case?’

  ‘Probably not. And they were our dreams, not just mine. We didn’t really need four bedrooms once the girls had gone. We always used to say that, when we retired, we’d think about leaving Shelling and moving into a smaller house. Oh, still in Norfolk, obviously, but somewhere we could see the sea from the window, listen to it at night, take moonlit walks on the shore, you know. That’s not going to happen now though, is it? And we’d get a spaniel. A little girl. Barb wanted to call her Flush, like the one the Brownings had.’

  ‘The Brownings?’

  ‘Robert. Elizabeth Barrett. You know, the poets. She was into all that love poetry stuff, was my Barb. How do I love thee, Let me count the ways, and all that. Could recite so many of those old verses off by heart. She had a lovely reading voice. I doubt if she’d even recognise one of those poems now if she heard it, let alone be able to remember the words. No, it’s all gone. The poetry, the retirement, the dog …’

  Madi reached for his hand. ‘I don’t know what to say.’

  ‘Don’t say anything. No need.’ He shook her off and rummaged in the small shoulder bag he had brought with him, pulling out a thermos flask and cups. ‘Time for a cuppa, I think, don’t you? And one of your favourite custard creams.’

  Madi laughed. ‘I wondered what you were hiding in that bag. I won’t say no though … Do you think the tide is coming in or going out?’

  ‘Can’t say I’ve noticed really. Not been here long enough to spot the difference. Why?’

  ‘Just making sure we’re not going to find ourselves knee-deep in water all of a sudden.’

  ‘Madi, I was a firefighter. If needs must, I will pick you up and sling you over my shoulder, if only to keep you dry.’

  ‘Well, thank you, kind sir, but I’m sure that won’t be necessary.’

  ‘Is that your phone ringing?’

  ‘I don’t know. Is it?’ Madi thrust her hand into the depths of her handbag. ‘It’s hard to hear it over the sounds of the sea.’

  ‘Ignore it anyway. Whoever it is can wait. This is meant to be our getting-away-from-it-all day.’

  ‘No, I can’t do that. It might be important. It might be George.’

  Tom raised his eyebrows. ‘Really?’

  ‘You never know.’ Madi found the phone and peered at the screen. ‘That’s odd. It’s Faith. What on earth can she want?’

  ‘You’d better answer it and find out. Probably another invitation to tea, although she did know we were coming here this morning, so it could have waited …’

  ‘Hello?’

  Tom watched as Madi listened to the voice at the other end of the line, her face turning pale, her expression suddenly deadly serious.

  ‘Right. I’ll be there as soon as I can.’

  ‘What’s happened? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.’

  ‘It’s Prue. She’s been found unconscious, in my flat. Looks like someone attacked her and then just left. Faith and Stuart are already in their car on their way up to London.’

  ‘My God! Is it bad? How is she?’

  ‘She was hit over the head apparently. No obvious weapon left behind. But she’s in hospital and having some kind of scan so they can see what’s what. Faith was very upset, a bit garbled, but she says the police will be in touch, that they want me home. It may have been a burglary, someone Prue disturbed, and they’ll need me to check if anything’s missing. And to give them my fingerprints.’

  ‘Oh, Madi, how awful. Poor kid, all on her own, and so far from home too.’

  ‘Not for long. Stuart’s driving like the wind from what I can gather. So long as they don’t get stopped for speeding, they’ll be with her soon. Come on, let’s get back. The car’s got enough petrol, and I need to get packed up, so I can leave today. I can’t believe this happened in my flat, Tom. Mine.’

  ‘Yes, it did, but that doesn’t make it your fault.’

  ‘No, it doesn’t, but what if …?’

  ‘What if what?’

  ‘I know it sounds silly, over-dramatic even, but what it wasn’t some random attack by a stranger?’

  ‘Why would anyone go after Prue? She wouldn’t hurt a fly.’

  ‘No, she wouldn’t. But what if it wasn’t Prue they were after? Who even knew she was there? Hardly anyone. Maybe what happened … was actually meant for me?’

  ‘Why would anyone target you?’

  ‘I have no idea, but I’ve been away a long time. They might have known that, known I have nice things, jewellery, thought the place was empty. Or it could have been … No, I’m just being stupid.’

  ‘What?’ Tom was grasping her hand now, concern written all over his face.

  ‘Well, I’d had the feeling for a while before I left that someone was watching me. I think I told you, I’d even started to think I was losing my memory, my mind … that something wasn’t … right. That’s the only way I can describe it. I’ve told myself it was the
illness, the drugs, the worry of it all … But what if it wasn’t that?’

  ‘You think someone was after you? Deliberately trying to upset you?’

  ‘No. Yes. Oh, I don’t know. I’m probably wrong, but I have to find out. Who got into my flat. Why. And how. I ignored it, Tom. I did nothing. I let Prue walk into God knows what was going on there, and now she’s …’

  ‘Stop it, Madi.’ Tom helped her to her feet and bundled up his mac and flask, tipping the dregs of their tea onto the sand. ‘That sort of talk isn’t going to help anyone. Best get you back to Shelling pronto, okay?’

  Madi stood on the doorstep at Snowdrop Cottage and looked back at it for the last time. She’d packed hurriedly, stripped the bed and bundled everything into the washing machine but she really didn’t have time to wait until it was finished so she could dry it. Her plan to take a leisurely stroll around the village and say her goodbyes had fallen by the wayside now. All that mattered was getting back home and finding out what was happening at Belle Vue Court. What state her flat was in, what state Prue was in …

  Tom came out into the street at the first sight of her, as if he had been waiting at the window watching out for her to emerge, and picked up the various bags and bundles gathered at her feet. ‘You should have called me to help you, lugging this lot down the stairs by yourself.’

  ‘It’s fine, really. Most of it was scattered about downstairs anyway. I’ve left things as tidy as I can. Ideally I should have run the vacuum round and emptied the bins and I haven’t put any of the washing out to dry …’

  ‘Oh, stop it, woman. I can nip in and sort all that out. Just leave me the keys and I’ll pop them back to young Sian when I’m done.’

  He lifted the bags one by one into the boot of Madi’s car, and waited for her to close it. ‘All in? Nothing you’ve left behind? Want to do a final check?’

  ‘No, all good.’ She yawned, trying to stifle it with the back of her hand. ‘I should be going.’

  ‘Oh, Madi, look at you. You’re tired before you even set off. Are you sure I shouldn’t drive you?’

  ‘And leave my car here? That wouldn’t work, would it?’

  ‘We could go in yours.’

  ‘And then you’d have all the hassle of getting a train back. Thank you, Tom, really, but I’ll be all right.’

  They hovered for a moment, neither of them quite sure how to manage the goodbye, until he stepped forward and pulled her into a gentle hug. ‘I’ll miss you, you know.’

  ‘You too.’

  ‘Will you come back, do you think?’

  ‘I hope so. Maybe next year, if Prue’s up for another swap. If she’s …’

  ‘She’ll be okay, Madi. She’s a tough young thing. It will take more than some lowlife burglar to bring her down.’

  ‘Let’s hope you’re right. No doubt I’ll find out soon enough.’

  ‘Keep in touch. You promised me a backstage theatre visit one day, don’t forget.’

  ‘Of course. As soon as I’m working again. A front-row seat too, if I can arrange it. And if you find out any more about the fire, do let me know. I’d hate to think it was anything we did, or the kids … Still, that’s not important now. Give my love to Barbara. And think about getting that dog. It’s what she wanted, remember?’

  ‘And you make peace with that son of yours. Family’s what counts. Those you love. Not much else comes close in the end.’

  Chapter 34

  I haven’t eaten. I haven’t slept. I haven’t been out.

  I’ve listened though. Heard the comings and goings. The ambulance arriving, the banging on the front door, the hurried footsteps on the stairs. That horrible siren wailing as they drove her away. People moving about, talking in shocked voices. Stan rubbernecking in the hall and stirring things, like he always does, going on about security and hooligans and hanging. And later, policemen, or that’s who I think it must have been, ringing on my bell. On everyone’s bells. I ignored it, sat in silence, pretended I wasn’t in. They’ll be back though. I know it.

  Is she alive or dead? I shouldn’t care. I hardly knew the girl. Still, I need to know, don’t I? I have to know. But I can’t ask anyone. Can’t look like I’m interested, like it’s anything to do with me. Best to just stay here, say nothing, do nothing, let it all blow over.

  This will bring her home now, I’m sure. The actress. Wherever it is she’s been, she’ll come crawling out of the woodwork soon enough. There will be police everywhere, poking their noses in, asking questions. And she’ll be the centre of attention again. Acting out her part, as always.

  Maybe I can do something to make it look like it was her. Using her key, coming in in the dark, thinking there was an intruder, bashing the girl over the head … It would get her arrested, locked up. Wouldn’t that be the perfect end to it all? But, even as I think it, I know it won’t happen that way. She wasn’t here. She’ll have some alibi. And she knew the girl was in there, had invited her. She had no reason to do it. Whereas I …

  It’s quieter now the hullabaloo has died down. Having a real-life crime happen on your doorstep has a way of hushing people, stunning them into a shocked silence. Nobody goes out. Nobody comes in. Only the police, their radios whistling, their big boots tramping up the stairs. All I can hear in here is the clock ticking on the dresser. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

  I should get rid of it. The weapon. Wipe her blood off it. Throw it in the river. But to do that I’d have to go out, and I can’t do that. They’ll work it out soon anyway, with or without it. I know they will. Who I am. Why I wanted her gone. It can only be a matter of time.

  Chapter 35

  PRUE

  Faith sat in the one good armchair next to Prue’s bed, chewing her fingernails and staring, sightlessly, out of the fourth-floor window.

  ‘Hours! Hours they say she might have been lying there. I dread to think what might have happened if that neighbour hadn’t found her when she did. I mean, how long can a person survive like that, on their own, with no medical help? Oh, God, we could have lost her, Stu. We still could …’

  ‘It will be all right, love.’ Stuart perched on the edge of a red plastic stacking chair he’d dragged into the room from the corridor outside and reached for his wife’s hand. ‘The scan showed there’s no obvious brain injury. No need to worry yourself into a lather. She will be okay, I promise you.’

  ‘How can you do that? How can you possibly promise? Because you don’t know for sure, do you? Our daughter isn’t someone’s favourite pet or some prize farm animal you’re treating. It’s different when it’s a human being …’

  ‘Would you like me to go and find you a drink or something to eat? Or you take a break and I’ll sit here for a while.’

  ‘I don’t want food. I just want Prue to be all right.’

  They sat in silence for a while. Stuart had picked up a magazine from a table in the relatives’ room on one of his frequent can’t-sit-here-doing-nothing wanders, and started thumbing through it. It was one of those country living glossies that in no way resembled the country life he was familiar with, but it wasn’t easy to concentrate anyway so he put it down again. ‘Well, I think I might pop out and find a vending machine. Or a shop. There must be one downstairs. I’m in need of a strong coffee, and maybe a sandwich. Are you sure I can’t get you anything? Starving yourself until you faint won’t really be of any help to Prue when she comes round, will it?’

  ‘Oh, suit yourself.’

  It was very quiet when he’d gone. The minute hand on the clock on the wall clicked with every movement as it made its way rhythmically round the big white face, there was a hum of passing traffic from the street down below, and various pieces of machinery buzzed and beeped both inside and outside the room. But, above them all, was the slow, reassuring sound of Prue’s breathing. Not one of those ventilator machines doing it for her. She was breathing for herself. Faith closed her eyes and thanked God for that.

  Her mobile vibrated in her bag, making her jump. She ha
d switched it to silent, worried that if it were to ring some officious member of staff might point to the warning signs on the walls and tell her to turn it off altogether. She pulled it out and looked at the screen. It was Joe Barton. Just a month or so ago he would have been the first person she would have called as soon as this terrible thing had happened. He was one of Prue’s oldest friends long before he had become her boyfriend, and he’d been the little boy Faith had always been so fond of and felt so protective of once his own mother had died, but now … Whatever hopes Prue had had for their future had been cruelly dashed and Prue had been left humiliated and heart-broken.

  Faith hesitated for a moment before answering. Their spat wasn’t her business. Joe and his father were old family friends. His brother was Stuart’s business partner. She couldn’t ignore him. The poor boy would be worried. Of course he would. The least she could do was update him, put him out of his misery.

  ‘Joe?’ She kept her voice low to avoid getting told off by some passing nurse. ‘Yes, we’re at the hospital now. They’re keeping her sedated for a while, so she’s sleeping, but they say she’ll be okay. Oh, God, I hope they’re right. Her head’s all bandaged up and she’s got some minor burns on her stomach and her arm. I don’t know. Hot water, so they say. The police are staying close by, waiting to talk to her as soon as she’s awake. No, no idea who did it, or why. Yes, okay, if you’re sure. You do know that she might not want to see you? Right. See you later then. We’ll be here. We’re not planning on going anywhere. Now, just hang on while I give you the address of the hospital, and which ward …’

  She wondered if she had done the right thing, agreeing to let him visit. It was so hard sometimes, dealing with other people’s mess, to know what the right thing was. Still, Prue could always send him away again, couldn’t she? Or who knew? This could be the big moment of revelation that proved to Joe just how wrong he had been and how much he loved her, the tearful reunion that sent them flying back into each other’s arms.