by Vivien Brown
‘I got you a tea, and a cheese and pickle.’ Stuart crept back into the room, cautiously. Faith wasn’t too sure if it was in deference to Prue lying there so silently or for fear of getting his head bitten off by a distressed wife.
‘Thank you,’ she said, holding out her hand, not to take the food but to wrap her fingers around his own. ‘You do know I couldn’t do this without you, don’t you?’
‘Likewise, love.’
Prue opened her eyes. She didn’t know where she was, or why the light above her was so bright, or where all the strange noises were coming from. This wasn’t her room, not her bed.
She struggled to pull her thoughts together, but her head didn’t feel right. Muzzy, muddled, like the worst kind of headache. What was going on? Had she been drinking? No. The last thing she remembered was being in the kitchen at Madi’s, filling the kettle, boiling it, picking it up …
‘Prue? Prue? Can you hear me?’
Who was that? Simon. Had he come home with her after all? She had wanted him to, so badly, but she didn’t remember chasing after him. Had she? Still, he was here now. But why did she feel so sleepy? Had they …?
‘Si …?’
‘Don’t try to talk, Prue. Do you know where you are? What happened to you?’
It wasn’t Simon. It sounded like …
She turned her head, slowly, but it hurt. Her whole body hurt.
‘Joe?’
‘You’re in hospital, Prue. Everything’s okay. Take it easy now. Don’t try to move.’
Another voice. From somewhere further away. One she didn’t recognise at all. A woman.
‘My name’s Carol, and I’m a nurse. Your mum and dad are here, Prue, and Joe. You’ve had a little knock on the head. Nothing to worry about. Come back to us in your own time.’
‘Oh, Prue, I’ve been so scared.’ That was her mum. Unmistakeable. She tried to focus on the face that had loomed in over her, blocking out everyone else. Kisses landing frantically on her cheek, the smell an odd combination of cheese and eau de cologne and fear …
‘Can we all just give her a bit of space now please?’
Prue closed her eyes and let the darkness wash back over her. Too much to take in. Too many questions. She let them all drift into the distance, just a fuzz of voices mingling together into one, and all so far away.
Chapter 36
MADI
It was after five o’clock when Madi pulled into her usual residents’ parking spot along the road from the flats. She had stopped only once, for a quick snack, a visit to the Ladies, and to call Faith’s mobile for an update and to invite them to stay at the flat later. She knew they wouldn’t want to be too far away while Prue was still in hospital. Now she was exhausted. Her bags could wait. The first thing was to go in, check out any damage and make herself some tea.
As soon as she opened the front door she could hear raised voices coming from upstairs.
‘Yes, I have keys, but I never use them. It wouldn’t be right. They’re simply for emergencies, to deal with leaking water, that sort of thing, especially with us living directly beneath. And I certainly didn’t use them last night, if that’s what you’re thinking.’
‘I am not thinking anything, Madam. Just checking the facts. There was no sign of a break-in, so it’s fair to assume that whoever did this was either invited in or had a key.’
‘Well, I don’t know anything about that, do I?’
Madi walked tentatively up to the first floor. Aaron and Suzy’s door was open and she could see two men standing just inside, one in uniform, one in plain clothes but still very obviously a policeman, both with their backs to her. She got the impression, from the tone of Suzy’s voice, that she was not about to invite them in to sit down.
‘Perhaps not, but we understand from another of the residents that you may have recently become the owner of Miss Cardew’s flat, which makes you her landlord. Or landlady, if you prefer the term. Is that correct?’
‘No, that’s not correct.’ Madi stepped forward, unable to help herself. ‘Don’t be ridiculous.’
The police officers turned. ‘Inspector Fletcher,’ the older one said, flashing his card. ‘And you are …?’
‘I’m Madalyn Cardew. And I can assure you that this lady here has nothing to do with my flat. So I would certainly like to know why she says she has keys, emergency or no emergency.’
‘Perhaps we could take this inside?’ the officer said, beckoning Madi forward. ‘For a little privacy?’
‘Or perhaps not,’ Suzy said. ‘I don’t want her coming in here. If you want to talk to her, can’t you do it upstairs?’
Madi was shocked by Suzy’s animosity. ‘Suzy, I don’t know what this is all about, but I think we should get to the bottom of it, don’t you? Helping the police with their enquiries just might give them some sort of a clue about who did this, who hurt Prue.’
‘Well, it wasn’t me.’
‘I’m sure nobody thinks it was. But the keys …?’
‘They’re right. I do have keys.’ Suzy spat the words out, contemptuously. ‘I presume it was that Stan opening his big gob again. Got his nose into everything, that one.’
‘Ladies. I hardly think …’
They both ignored the police officer as he attempted to bring the conversation back under his control.
‘Mum? What’s going on?’ A bedraggled-looking Aaron emerged from a bedroom, looking only half awake, wiping the sleep from his eyes. ‘What’s all the yelling about? Is there news about Prue? Oh, hello, Mrs Cardew.’
‘Miss!’ Suzy snapped. ‘She’s not married, and we know why, don’t we?’
‘Pardon?’ Madi looked from one to the other. ‘I’m sorry, Aaron, but I seem to have upset your mum. Maybe you can explain what this is all about? They say she has keys to my flat, that she’s the landlord?’
‘Well, yes,’ Aaron yawned. ‘Grandad used to own the whole block, bought it as an investment years ago. Some have been sold off but Mum owns the rest now. Didn’t you know?’
‘Your grandad? Owned the block?’ Madi was feeling suddenly faint. She was tired from the journey and she needed to sit down. No, that couldn’t be right. The flats had been Jeremy’s. He’d given her one to live in, as soon as he knew about the baby. Security, a home for life, he’d said. A cheap rent, no increases, for as long as she needed it. For ever, if that’s what it took to keep her happy. And quiet. There was a special clause, an agreement, and it was still in existence, long after he’d died. A management company handled everything now. ‘What was your grandad’s name, Aaron?’ she asked, although she already suspected now exactly what the answer was going to be.
‘Jeremy Cave. He was an actor too, actually, just like you. Mainly theatre, but TV too, a few films … I think he was quite famous in his day, although he died years ago so I never met him, of course. Went by the stage name of Jeremy Cavendish. You might have heard of him. Why do you want to know?’
Madi looked straight at Suzy, as if she might see a trace of his face in hers. ‘Is that true? You’re Suzanne Cave? Jeremy’s daughter?’
‘So what if I am? Or was? It’s been a long time since I’ve used that name. I’ve been Suzy Jones ever since I married Aaron’s dad, and what a mistake that turned out to be. Men and their affairs … Yes, my dad too. And you. Don’t try to deny it, because I know. I’ve tried to not let it bother me, tried to just keep my distance, but you’re here, right here, living above me. How could you, Madalyn? You knew he already had a wife, and a daughter, but that still didn’t stop you, did it?’
‘I didn’t …’
‘Didn’t what? Didn’t think? Didn’t care?’
Madi could feel her hands starting to shake, the police officer’s eyes on her, taking it all in. She wouldn’t be surprised if he took out his notebook and started writing it all down. This sudden link to her past, thrown in her face. His wife and child. Nancy and Suzanne. She knew their names, but they had just been shadowy figures, hardly mentioned. An inconvenienc
e, keeping her and Jeremy apart. And Suzy was right. She had never thought about them as real people, with feelings. Only about herself. Her needs, her child …
‘He didn’t leave us though, did he?’ Suzy said. ‘Not for you, or for any of the others. He might have bought you all off with your posh flats, but he didn’t want to live with you, did he? Any of you. His little harem, all under one roof, where he could keep an eye on you, control you, buy your silence.’
‘What …?’
‘But you were flings, the lot of you, and bloody expensive ones too,’ Suzy went on, hardly stopping to draw breath. ‘If you’d met someone else and got married, you’d have had to leave, wouldn’t you? Or buy the place. You wouldn’t have been allowed to keep on renting it then. All part of the legal stuff he tied us all up in, so I’m told, but oh no, you didn’t even do that, did you, Miss Cardew? No marriage for you, while you could stay on here for as long as you liked. What man would be worth giving up all this, eh? Best flat in the block, and you know it. Still bloodsucking all these years later. Do you have any idea how much I could make if only I was allowed to sell? But I’m not allowed. Only to you, but oh no, you didn’t want to buy, did you? Well, why would you, with the rock-bottom rent you pay?’ She was crying properly now, the frustration and pain so evident in her screwed-up face that Madi had no idea what to say.
‘Of all the stupid short-sighted mistakes he made … but it’s not about the money. That’s not what hurts, not really. He was my dad. He brought me back presents every time he went away, sat me on his knee, read me stories, dressed up as Santa at Christmas. He was only fifty-five when he died, and I was just twelve. A late baby, after years of thinking it would never happen, and he doted on me. Would have done anything for me. I still remember the smell of him all these years later, his soap, his aftershave, his big hands ruffling my hair, the feel of his stubble when I touched his face. He wasn’t some famous actor to me, he was just my dad, and I wish I could always remember him that way. Not as this womanising …’
‘I had no idea.’ Madi was stunned, not sure how she was managing to stay on her feet.
‘Well, guess what. Neither did I,’ Suzy went on, sobbing quietly. ‘Not about the women, or the flats. I never understood why Mum didn’t sell the lot when he died and just walk away. Not until the solicitor spelt it all out to me, years later, after she died. What I had inherited, special clauses and sitting tenants and all. Oh, she knew about his affairs all right, my mum. Whether she knew while he was still alive and turned a blind eye – hah, the irony! – or only found out afterwards I don’t know, and I never will know now, will I? What she had to put up with. My poor mum. But she kept quiet about it. Never said a word, in all these years. Just left it all for me to read after she’d gone, in a letter. She kept his sordid secrets, and her own dignity, and tried to protect me from it all, right to the end. She even bloody well apologised, for having to break it to me. The truth, at last. As if she had anything to apologise for. And now I’ve lost her too.’
‘Your mother, the lady who lived here with you for a time, that was Nancy?’ Madi said, still standing just a few feet away on the landing. ‘Jeremy’s Nancy? And all this time I was paying my rent to that management company, it was really going to her? And now to you?’ She stood, swaying, trying to take it in.
Suzy sniffed, finally pulling herself together as Aaron came forward and put his arm around her shoulders. ‘Someone came, from the solicitors. Tried your door after he’d spoken to me. You weren’t about. Working, or sick or something. Didn’t they write to you?’
‘I don’t read all that stuff. Not properly. All the jargon. I thought it was just routine, the same thing being sent to all the residents, the owner wanting to sell. I didn’t think it applied to me, and I couldn’t afford to buy the place, even if I wanted to. Oh, my God, I just thought some faceless company owned the place now. Not his family, not … you. I’m sorry, Suzy. I am so sorry, but I think I need to get back upstairs now. I can’t …’
‘Are you all right, Miss Cardew?’ The older police officer looked concerned. ‘This all seems to have come as a shock to you, and I’m not sure if it has anything to do with the assault on Miss Harris, but I certainly intend to find out. Now, allow me to accompany you back to your flat. We will need to ask you a few questions, and get you to take a look around for anything obviously missing. Perhaps after a nice strong cup of tea?’ He had hold of her elbow now and was edging her away towards the stairs. ‘I will be back to talk to you again later, Mrs Jones. Mr Jones too. Please let me know if you plan on going out.’
‘My shift at work …’ Aaron started to say. ‘No, actually, I’m going to call in sick. I can’t face it, not after what’s happened here. I’ve hardly had any sleep, and I’d like to try to visit Prue later, if she’s up to it. How is she, do you know?’
‘Her parents are with her, Mr Jones. And, for the moment, I don’t think that you going anywhere near her would be appropriate …’
‘What? Am I a suspect? She was – is – my friend. I wouldn’t hurt her.’
‘Our investigations are ongoing, sir. We do need to talk to everyone who had access to the building and to Miss Cardew’s flat. We’ll take statements either here or down at the station, so it might be wise to get dressed. Just remain at home for now.’
Madi walked slowly up the last staircase. The door to her flat was already open, a line of police tape stretched across the doorway to stop anyone going in.
Others? What had Suzy meant about others? She had truly believed she had been Jeremy’s one and only lover, the one he had fallen head over heels for, no matter how briefly, before returning, tail between his legs, to his wife the moment the reality of her pregnancy and what it could do to his precious career had hit home. Could she have been that naïve, that wrong, that stupid? Just one in a line of other women, one of a string of casual, meaningless affairs?
And if Jeremy really had kept them all here in some kind of sick harem as Suzy had implied, just who exactly were they? Which of her neighbours had also fallen for the charms of Jeremy Cavendish and were still living on his generosity long after his death? It wasn’t surprising that Suzy was so bitter, so angry at the world. Having to live with her blindness and the recent loss of her mother was bad enough, but it can’t have been easy to discover the truth about her parents’ marriage, the kind of man her father had been, and then to have to live here, reminded of it every day, her hands tied by some forever clause and unable to do anything about it. She felt sorry for her, sad for her. The poor woman was Jeremy’s daughter …
Her neighbour, Betty Bloomfield, was hovering on the top landing, almost leaning over the banisters. She must have heard every word. She was still wearing her library name badge, pinned to her navy suit, so she could not have been home long. ‘Madi, you’re back,’ she said. ‘Terrible business. It was me who found her, you know, when I opened my door early this morning. Oh, you do look awfully pale, dear. Is everything all right? Anything I can do?’
‘Not now, Betty. Please, not now …’
‘Are you ready, Miss Cardew?’ The police officer pulled one end of the tape aside and signalled for her to step inside her own flat. But it wasn’t hers, was it? It never really had been.
‘The only thing I can definitely see is missing from here is my gold locket. It’s not particularly valuable, just nine carat, and I’m not sure why anyone would take that and leave some of my other pieces behind. This pearl, and the silver bracelet, are worth more, and quite obviously so. And the locket only had a photo of my son inside. Not of any interest to anyone else really.’
‘No cash? Cards? Anything like that?’
They sidestepped round the young woman who was dusting everything for fingerprints, the policeman adjusting his gloves so he didn’t contaminate anything with his own hands.
‘No, whatever cash I had was with me in Norfolk, in my purse, not that I ever carry a lot of it. And I only use one credit card, and that was with me too.’
<
br /> ‘How about the other rooms, Miss Cardew? Anything gone? Disturbed? Out of place?’
‘It’s so hard to say. Lately I’ve found I move things about and can’t even remember doing it, so nothing really has its own rightful place any more. A bit of brain fog. Stress, probably.’ Even as she said it, the nagging feeling was there again. What if it was more than that? ‘Because of my illness, you see.’
‘Illness?’
‘Cancer. Oh, it’s gone now, dealt with, with a lot of help from chemotherapy, which made me feel very tired, a bit confused, sorry for myself. The truth is, I’m even more confused now. About the flat, about Suzy and her mother owning it now, having keys … I knew nothing about any of that.’
‘Take a moment. No hurry. It’s all been a shock, I’m sure.’
‘But you do know that Prue has been living here for the last few weeks, not me? You’ll find her fingerprints everywhere, I’m sure, and those of any visitors she might have had in here. And the place has a lot of her things still in it too. She might well have moved some of my belongings out of the way, tucked them out of sight, maybe.’
‘Out of sight? Why would she do that?’
‘I only meant if anything wasn’t to her taste. The picture of my son staring at her from next to the bed, for instance. A bit off-putting when you don’t know the person. And my award too. I can see it’s not in its place on the mantelpiece.’
‘And what award would that be?
‘Just something I won years ago, as a young actress. I’m proud of it but I have to admit it is rather ugly. Big and heavy. Made to look like gold, but not, of course. Brass, I think. Maybe she didn’t like it looking at her. It had a habit of doing that, or it could feel that way. The face on it, the eyes seeming to follow you round the room, you know …’
‘Could you take a look for it, please? While you’re checking the cupboards and their contents. Only we don’t yet have a weapon, and your award is starting to sound very much like a possibility.’
***
