The Promise You Made

by A J McDine

  ‘They were two gormless boys looking for easy pickings. They wouldn’t have hurt me.’

  Eloise shook her head, opened the passenger door, and looked inside.

  ‘Anything missing?’ I asked.

  ‘No,’ she said. ‘It’s just as I remembered it. Which means…’ She rubbed her temple with the heel of her hand.

  ‘Open the boot,’ I said, pointing to the keys.

  She gave a tiny nod but didn’t move. I held out my hand, and she dropped the fob into my palm. It felt as smooth as a pebble and I ran my thumb over the top and pressed a button experimentally. The boot clicked open.

  ‘Here goes,’ I said, smiling at my goddaughter as I lifted the door, held the torch aloft and shone it into the boot’s cave-like interior.

  At first, all I could make out was a jumble of clothes, as though Eloise had shoved the entire contents of her wardrobe into the back of the car. She stood behind me, so close her breath warmed my neck. I felt a flutter of something deep in my belly - Fear? Anticipation? Déjà vu?

  The beam of light fell on the face of a man, his waxen cheek squashed up against a wheel arch. His legs were bent at the knee and his arms were flung out at right angles to his body as if he was reaching out to us. I dropped the torch in the puddle by my feet. As darkness wrapped itself around us, Eloise screamed.

  Chapter Five

  It only took a moment for me to pull myself together. It wasn’t as if it was my first brush with the dead. As a first-year medical student, I’d honed my anatomy skills on a cadaver my seminar group nicknamed Beryl, a buxom woman with heavy jowls and dimpled thighs. All we were told was that she’d died of lung cancer aged forty-nine. A heavy smoker, we’d assumed, although there were no tell-tale yellow stains on her fingers. With the pungent, pickle-like smell of formaldehyde in my nostrils, I’d sliced Beryl open and picked my way through her ravaged vital organs without a flicker of revulsion. At the end of the year, our seminar group attended her funeral, as was the tradition at our medical school. It was only then that we learned Beryl was in fact Lynda and had worked as a singer in working men’s clubs across the north of England for decades. She’d never smoked a cigarette in her life. It was breathing in other people’s smoke that had killed her.

  I reached down and felt Theo’s neck for a pulse. His skin was as cold as marble. And prickly, as though he hadn’t shaved for a couple of days. Feeling nothing, I pushed my index and middle finger deeper into his carotid artery.

  I pulled back as if I’d been stung.

  ‘Rose?’ Eloise’s voice quavered, her fear palpable. What had Theo done to her to instil such terror? I slammed the boot shut, then turned to her, my arms open wide. She collapsed against me, her whole body shaking, and I held her close until her sobs subsided.

  ‘It’s all right,’ I whispered. ‘Everything’s going to be all right.’

  ‘I knew I’d killed him,’ she wailed. ‘What are we going to do?’

  It was obvious what we should do. We should call the police and tell them what happened. And then what? Before we knew it, patrol cars and forensic teams would screech down the lane towards us, sirens wailing and blue lights pulsing. Inscrutable detectives would fire questions at Eloise, warning her she was under caution and anything she said might harm her defence, blah blah blah. I’d have to watch helplessly as they arrested my goddaughter and carted her off in the back of a police van.

  That was the right path to take. But what of the honourable path? I’d made a promise a decade ago, a promise to help Eloise if she ever needed it, and by Christ, she needed it now.

  ‘We’ll get him home and decide,’ I said, fishing the car keys out of my pocket. ‘I’ll drive.’

  Minutes later, I pulled up in the driveway at home alongside the Land Rover and switched off the engine.

  ‘You can’t leave the car here,’ Eloise said, her voice rising in panic. ‘What if someone sees it?’

  ‘I told you, no one ever comes here. It’ll be safe until we decide what to do.’

  She cradled her head in her hands and rocked back and forth in the passenger seat. ‘Oh God, what have I done?’

  ‘It was self-defence, you said so yourself.’

  ‘What are we going to do with him?’ Her breaths were coming in shallow puffs, hard and fast. ‘We should hide his body. Yes, that’s it. Somewhere no one’ll ever find it.’ She looked at me wildly. ‘There must be somewhere around here. Is there a well? Or a lake? Or maybe we should burn him and then there wouldn’t be a body to find. Because I can’t go to prison, Rose,’ she screeched. ‘It would kill me.’

  ‘No one’s going to prison.’

  ‘Oh God, I can’t believe it. I killed him, Rose. I killed Theo.’ The veins in her neck were bulging and her nostrils were flared.

  ‘Eloise, listen to me. You need to calm down.’

  ‘I’ll bury him myself if I have to,’ she said, unclipping her seatbelt and reaching for the door handle.

  ‘No!’ I said sharply.

  ‘Please help me, Rose,’ she said, her voice disintegrating. ‘You promised you would.’

  I touched her arm. ‘I am helping you. But we need to think this through before we do anything rash. We can’t afford to make any mistakes. First, I need you to tell me exactly what happened tonight. Not here,’ I said quickly, glancing over my shoulder. ‘In the house.’

  Eloise closed her eyes briefly, then nodded. Out of habit, I locked the doors, although if Jaden and his shifty friend came back and stole the car and its contents, they’d be doing us a favour.

  Eloise stumbled towards the house, her eyes fixed on the light by the back door. I took my time, wondering what the hell we were going to do with the lifeless figure in the boot of my goddaughter’s car. Christ, what a mess.

  We shrugged off our dripping coats, then I threw another couple of logs on the fire and poured us two hefty measures of brandy.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I said, handing her a glass. ‘I genuinely thought you must have imagined everything.’

  ‘Because you don’t think I’m capable of killing someone?’

  ‘Everyone’s capable of killing someone if they’re pushed hard enough.’

  ‘You really believe that?’ she said, her eyes searching mine.

  ‘I do.’ I took a sip of brandy and winced as the alcohol hit the back of my throat. ‘Tell me about Theo. Where did you meet?’

  She shook her head. ‘I’ve killed my boyfriend and you want to know how I met him?’

  ‘Humour me, please.’

  She shrugged. ‘At work. Theo is - was - a chef. I was temping at the country house hotel where he worked.’

  ‘In the kitchen?’ I realised I knew nothing about Eloise. Where she lived, how she spent her spare time and whether she’d been to university. I’d cut all ties the day we buried her mother, and the decision did not reflect well on me.

  ‘On reception,’ Eloise said. ‘It paid the rent, you know?’

  ‘Of course. When was this?’

  ‘Easter.’ She swirled the brandy around her glass. It glowed amber in the firelight. ‘Everyone was talking about the new chef and how hot he was. The other girls on reception kept finding excuses to go into the kitchen so they could check him out.’

  ‘Not you?’

  ‘God no. Not my style at all. I bumped into him in the car park. The girls were right. He was hot. And such a charmer.’ She smiled at the memory. ‘He turned up for our first date with the biggest bouquet of red roses you’ve ever seen.’

  I arched an eyebrow.

  Eloise met my eye. ‘I couldn’t believe my luck. That this gorgeous man was interested in me. Because he fell head over heels in love with me, Rose. I know it’s probably hard for you to believe, but he did.’

  ‘And why shouldn’t he? You’re beautiful, clever and brave. Of course he fell in love with you.’

  ‘On our second date, he told me how striking our kids would be. On our fourth date, he suggested we live together. Two months after we met, I
gave notice on my flat and moved in with him. It was as if we were caught up in this amazing whirlwind. And then…’ She took a gulp of brandy, then set the glass down. ‘And then he changed.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘He started kicking off if I met the girls for a drink after work. He wanted to know where I was when we weren’t together. Once, I caught him looking at my phone. He said he’d heard it ring but when I checked, the call log was empty.’ Eloise bit her lip. ‘I should have seen him for what he was, but now and then he’d buy me flowers, or cook me an amazing meal, and I’d forgive him. He took me for a fool.’

  ‘Don’t be too hard on yourself,’ I said. ‘I heard so many stories like yours when I volunteered at a women’s refuge. Sweeping you off your feet with romantic gestures and asking you to move in with him after a matter of weeks is textbook behaviour for your average psychopath.’

  ‘Psychopath?’ she said, her eyes widening.

  I took her hand. ‘Once he’d successfully won you over, he became paranoid, possessive and controlling, am I right? He was a walking cliché. But you mustn’t blame yourself. Sometimes you don’t see what’s right in front of your nose.’

  Eloise stared into the fire, her shoulders hunched. ‘I guess,’ she mumbled.

  ‘When he threatened to kill you last night, was that the first time he’d been violent towards you?’

  ‘No.’ Her voice was flat. ‘One of the other receptionists suggested a drink at the pub to celebrate my birthday a while back. I didn’t want to go, but she wouldn’t take no for an answer. Theo was working and assumed I’d gone straight home. When he found out I’d gone to the pub without him, he hit the roof.’ She touched her cheekbone and gave a hollow laugh. ‘His idea of a birthday present was a black eye.’

  ‘Did you take a picture?’

  ‘No, why?’

  ‘It might help, you know, when you talk to the police.’

  She stiffened. ‘The police? But I thought you were going to help me?’

  I took a deep breath. ‘We need to call them, Eloise. It’s the right thing to do. It was self-defence. They won’t charge you when they hear what he put you through. And I’ll be by your side every step of the way.’

  ‘That’s not helping me, that’s throwing me under a fucking bus!’ Eloise jumped to her feet and began pacing the room, her arms wrapped around her slender body.

  ‘We have no choice,’ I said desperately. ‘Anything else is madness.’

  She stopped pacing, dropped to her knees in front of me, and took my hand. ‘Have you never made a mistake, Rose?’

  I was silent.

  ‘I regret what I did with all my heart,’ she said. ‘And if I could turn back the clock I would in a heartbeat. But I can’t change the past.’

  ‘No one can,’ I whispered. ‘But they can make amends.’

  ‘How?’ she pleaded. ‘How can I make amends?’

  ‘I wasn’t talking about you.’ I massaged my temple. Maybe helping Eloise would lay my own demons to rest. It had to be worth a shot, didn’t it? I reached a decision. ‘All right, I’ll help you, Eloise. I’ll keep my promise.’

  Chapter Six

  Was it weird that I sometimes imagined what it would be like to be a fly on the wall at my own funeral? What would the vicar have to say about my life? That here was a woman who’d worked tirelessly for good causes? A woman who prided herself on giving something back? A community champion. A force for good. A woman whose whole raison d’être was to help others?

  ‘Rose Barton was one of those rare things - a truly selfless person who always put others first,’ the vicar might say. ‘And the world will be a poorer place without her.’

  Was I a truly good person, or was I trying to be good? And did it even matter, because the end result was, surely, the same? Helping people made me feel needed. So, was it so bad that I felt a tingle of anticipation as I poured us each another brandy and took control?

  ‘I need to know exactly what happened between you and Theo tonight,’ I said. ‘We have to make sure we’ve covered our tracks.’

  Eloise cradled her glass and cleared her throat. ‘I told him I was moving out. He went berserk.’

  ‘Details, Eloise.’

  She described how Theo had yelled at her for dropping his favourite mug when she was unloading the dishwasher that morning. Then she’d burned his toast. He’d sprayed her face with spittle as he’d screamed at her, telling her she was a worthless, bloodsucking leech. It had been the final straw.

  ‘I couldn’t go on,’ she said. ‘I packed my bags while he was at work and planned to be gone before he came home.’

  But Theo, perhaps sensing something was amiss, had returned early to find Eloise writing a note to him at the kitchen table.

  ‘He went ballistic, screaming and shouting. Saying it wasn’t my choice to leave and that, if anything, he should be throwing me out because I was pathetic and useless and,’ her voice caught on a sob, ‘that the world would be a better place without me in it.’

  ‘Could anyone have heard him?’ I asked.

  ‘His flat’s above a carpet shop. There are offices on either side. It was seven o’clock in the evening. Everyone had gone home for the day.’

  ‘OK. So, he loses the plot. What happened next?’

  Eloise swallowed. ‘He started shoving me, telling me he wished he’d never met me.’ She shivered. ‘Then he stopped yelling, and I thought, maybe he’s got it all off his chest and he’ll let me go. But when I went to pick up my handbag, he lunged at me with a kitchen knife. His eyes, Rose. They were… they were completely blank.’ She buried her face in her hands.

  ‘That’s when he cut you?’

  She touched her collarbone. ‘I ducked out of the way, so it was only a nick. Then I ran into the hallway. I’m not sure exactly what happened next. It’s all a blur. But somehow, he tripped and fell face first onto the floor. I grabbed the first thing to hand. My kettlebell was right there, next to the shoe rack. I wasn’t thinking. I just picked it up and swung it as hard as I could. I never meant to kill him, I swear.’

  ‘Kettlebell?’

  ‘It’s a weight I use for strength training. Theo stopped me going to the gym because he was worried I might meet someone else,’ Eloise said with a small shake of her head.

  ‘And you only hit him once?’

  She nodded. ‘I gathered my things and was about to leave but, I don’t know, something seemed wrong. He was so still.’ She looked up at me. ‘I tried to find a pulse, but there was nothing. I thought about calling the police or an ambulance, but I panicked. I knew the police would never have believed it was self-defence. They’d have taken one look at my record and thrown the book at me.’

  I felt a tug of surprise. ‘What record?’

  She glanced at the ceiling, then lowered her gaze. ‘I went off the rails a bit when I was younger. Nothing too heavy,’ she said quickly. ‘Possession and a bit of shop-lifting, that’s all. I fell in with the wrong crowd. But the police wouldn’t see it like that.’

  Whether or not she was right was of little consequence. The line had been crossed and there was no going back.

  ‘How the hell did you manage to get him from your flat into the boot of your car?’

  ‘It wasn’t easy. I dragged him out of the fire door and onto the fire escape and parked my car at the bottom.’

  I gasped. ‘Are you sure no one saw you?’

  ‘It was pitch black and raining. I’m pretty certain.’

  ‘And then you drove straight here?’

  ‘After I went back for the kettlebell and Theo’s phone. I thought if I texted his work and pretended he’d gone home to Paris because of a family crisis or something, they wouldn’t report him missing over here.’

  ‘Paris?’

  ‘Didn’t I say?’ Eloise ran a hand across her face. ‘Theo’s French.’

  The fact that Theo was from another country added a whole new perspective to his disappearance. Eloise explained that his wealthy parents o
wned a small chain of high-end restaurants in France and had virtually disowned him when he dropped out of university to bum around Europe, working in kitchens to fund his travels. By the time he’d started work as a sous chef in an upmarket country house hotel near Rochester, he hadn’t spoken to them for years.

  ‘So, it’s unlikely they’ll report him missing?’

  She nodded. ‘And if his boss thinks he’s gone back to France, he won’t, either.’

  I pulled a face. It all seemed too easy. ‘What about friends?’

  Eloise shrugged. ‘He didn’t really have any.’

  ‘What about your friends? Won’t they wonder where you are?’

  ‘Theo didn’t like me seeing anyone. That’s why I came here. You’re all I’ve got.’ She leaned forwards, her elbows on her knees and her face eager. ‘And even if someone reported him missing, the police would never connect him to you. No one knows you’re my godmother.’

  I was silent as I digested the facts. I felt nothing for Theo but contempt. Frankly, men like him had it coming. When would they learn that women were not chattels to do with as they pleased? Hadn’t the #MeToo movement penetrated their thick skulls? It was time women took a stand. Men like Theo made me sick. I didn’t feel a shred of sympathy for him.

  ‘If we buried his body here, on your land, no one would ever find him,’ Eloise said.

  I held up a hand. ‘Just slow down a minute. There’s something you need to know.’

  She carried on talking as if I hadn’t spoken. ‘No, Rose, the sooner we get rid of him the better.’ She jumped to her feet. ‘I feel terrible about what’s happened, but maybe it was meant to be. Like, I’ve stopped him from hurting me, but I’ve also stopped him from hurting anyone else. Other women will live because he died, do you see?’

  ‘Eloise,’ I said, taking a deep breath. ‘Please, just listen to me for a minute.’

  She sank back onto the sofa. ‘Now he’s gone I won’t have to worry about saying the wrong thing, or wearing the wrong clothes, or cooking the wrong tea. I won’t have to live in fear any more. Say you’ll help me, Rose. Please.’