by Sue Fortin
I have a good idea what it is and I suppose I owe it to Leonard to tell the truth, but I also have a loyalty to Luke. No one needs to know what happened between Tom and me on the pier last night. I change the subject quickly. ‘I hope Luke gets here soon. He left a message with the nurse to say he was dropping the girls off with Pippa and then coming straight over. I don’t want the girls to see me in hospital. I want to see them at home tonight. If they ever let me out of this bloody place. What about Mum? Hadn’t you better get back to her?’
‘Her friend from the WI is with her. The doctor came and gave your mum a sedative.’
‘I should be there with her. If it wasn’t for the bloody police coming to interview me, I’d go home but I don’t want them turning up at the house, not with everything that’s gone on. It will be too much for Mum.’
‘Are you sure you don’t want me to stay for the police interview?’ says Leonard. ‘They’ve got rather a lot to talk to you about.’
‘I’ll be fine. It’s Martha they should be talking to. Is she still not saying anything?’
Leonard shakes his head. ‘She won’t say a word. Even when I told her Tom was dead. She just turned away and looked at the wall.’
‘What’s going to happen to her now?’
‘It will need to be dealt with in America. She’s not actually committed any crime here, apart from entering the country on false documentation. So, I assume, deported back to the USA, where she’ll be arrested for the murder of Alice and then she’ll face a trial. The conversation you found on the memory stick in Tom’s apartment will be a crucial piece of evidence.’
‘They still have the death penalty in Florida,’ I say, picking at the edge of my new plaster cast.
‘If she gets herself a good defence attorney, I suspect they’ll enter a plea of manslaughter. I don’t think she’ll face the death penalty for that.’
‘Despite what she’s done, I don’t wish that on her,’ I say, looking up at Leonard. ‘All I want is to find where Martha buried Alice.’
For the first time I allow myself to cry as an overwhelming sense of loss engulfs me. I accept the comforting embrace of Leonard and sob quietly into his shoulder. I’m conscious that this small act is the start of a new connection between myself and Leonard but I can’t think about the future yet, not when I still have so much of the past the contend with.
Leonard has only been gone for about twenty minutes before the police and Luke turn up, practically at the same time.
‘Hi,’ says Luke. ‘I met these in the corridor. Sorry, it’s not the customary bunch of flowers husbands are supposed to bring their wives.’
My heart does a little flip of joy. In that one sentence, I know that Luke and I are going to be all right. I smile at him. ‘Don’t worry, all is forgiven.’
He offers a smile in return and comes over to me, kissing the top of my head and perching on the bed next to me. He picks up my hand in his and turns to the police officer. ‘What did you want to speak to my wife about?’
‘A couple of things, actually,’ says PC Evans. ‘First of all, Mrs Pippa Stent is dropping the charges about the damage to her car.’
‘Okay, thank you. That’s good.’
‘Yes, we couldn’t identify clearly from the CCTV footage who bought the paint from the garage. They were wearing a baseball cap and Mrs Stent is convinced it wasn’t you after all. She said she thought it might be your … er … Miss Munroe but under the circumstances it’s not in our interest to pursue the matter further.’
‘Pippa’s cool with everything,’ Luke says. ‘I spoke to her today. She’ll call by in a couple of days to see you.’
‘We need to take some information regarding the accident at the house but, as I understand it, that will be part of a new investigation, so my colleagues in CID will be discussing that with you at a later date.’
‘Is that it?’
‘Yes, we’ll be in touch soon but if, in the meantime, you could stay in the UK, that would be much appreciated by our colleagues in CID.’
‘Of course.’
‘Thank you. We’ll be off now, then.’ Evans and Doyle depart, leaving Luke and I alone.
‘I’m so glad to see you,’ I say. The relief that Luke is here envelops me.
‘I came as soon as Leonard phoned,’ says Luke. ‘He’s told me everything. I’m so sorry for not believing you about Alice, I mean Martha.’
‘How has Mum taken it?’ I ask. ‘I think Leonard was playing it down.’
‘I’ll be honest,’ says Luke. ‘Not great.’
‘I need to get home and see her. And the girls. Are they okay?’
‘They’re going to stay with Pippa for the night. I know you’re desperate to see them, but what with your mum being so upset, I don’t think it’s the best place for them right now.’
I can’t argue with that. ‘Okay. But I’m seeing them tomorrow, no matter what.’ I look down at our hands still entwined. ‘Luke, there’s something I need to ask you.’
I hear him sigh. ‘This sounds ominous.’
‘I believe you that you didn’t sleep with Martha and I’m sorry for accusing you of that.’
‘But? I can feel a but coming on.’
‘Tom showed me a photograph of you and Martha. You were on the seafront. Arms around each other. Kissing.’
Luke looks genuinely confused. ‘I promise you, Clare, I have never kissed Martha. Never. I don’t even know where Tom would get a photograph from.’
‘It’s okay. I believe you. I just needed to check.’
‘So what about the photo? I’d actually quite like to see it myself.’
‘It’s on Tom’s laptop. I think it’s probably photoshopped. I just needed to hear you say it.’
‘Photoshopped? Tom always liked messing around with computers and cameras, I wouldn’t be at all surprised. Why was he showing you that anyway?’
‘Just causing trouble. Forget about it. He can’t hurt us any more.’ I’m not sure if I’m trying to convince myself as much as I am Luke. I give Luke a kiss and luxuriate in his response. It seems such a long time since we’ve kissed like this.
‘Mmmm, I think we need to get you home, Mrs Tennison,’ says Tom. He grins at me.
God, I’ve missed him. I’m so glad he’s back.
Luke helps me dress in yet another set of clean clothes he brought me and after waiting for what seems an age to be discharged, we finally make our way out of the ward.
‘Before we go, I want to see Martha,’ I say.
‘I’m not so sure that’s a good idea,’ says Luke. ‘Why don’t you wait for the dust to settle for a few days?’
‘No. I need to see her. I want to know exactly where Alice is.’ I can’t bring myself to say Alice’s body, although inwardly I acknowledge that is what we are dealing with now. ‘We need to find her as soon as possible.’
Luke strokes my hair and looks into my eyes. ‘The police can find that out. You don’t have to.’
I place my hand over his and offer a small smile of gratitude for his thoughtfulness. ‘I know they can, but I need something to focus on, to keep me positive. I’m scared if I stop now, I’m going to cave in. I can’t rest until Alice is at rest.’
We take the lift up to the next floor and head round to the ward Martha has been moved onto, having come off the critical list last night. As we turn the corner onto the ward corridor, there is an obvious sense of urgency about the place. A nurse is dashing into a room on the left and as the door swings shut, I get a glimpse of several members of staff already in there. The sound of assured, yet urgent, voices hum from inside the room. Another nurse hurries out and grabs a trolley with what looks like a defibrillator on it.
I look at the whiteboard behind the desk which has a list of which patients are in which room. I scan the names. Kendrick, Alice – Room 3. I look now at the door numbers. My feet take me forwards, Luke holds my arm. The emergency is happening in Room 3.
I shake Luke’s hand from me and I’m at
the door, pushing it open. A male nurse is performing CPR on Martha. She’s lying on the floor, a white cotton sheet beside her. It’s been made into a noose.
I scream out her name. A male nurse spins round and is bundling me out of the door into Luke’s arms. ‘You can’t come in,’ he’s saying. ‘Stay out!’ The door slams shut and Luke catches me as my knees buckle from under me. There are some visitor seats in a small communal area by the nurses’ station. Luke takes me over and sits me down.
‘She’s tried to hang herself,’ I say in disbelief. ‘Why?’
Of all the things I thought she was capable of, suicide was not one of them. I thought Martha was the sort of person who always looked out for herself, without much care for anyone else, no compassion and no remorse. It looks as though I got that wrong.
Chapter 31
It took the American authorities nearly a week to find Alice, and then another four days to confirm her identity through DNA testing. The grave, as the officer referred to the shallow trough in the ground where Alice was found, was in the middle of a particularly dense part of the area, several metres away from the trail. Walkers, tourists, horse riders and beach-goers had all passed within a stone’s throw of Alice, but not one had noticed her. It makes me sad and guilty that I was so close to her and never knew it.
So, now I am back in Florida again with Luke, Mum and Leonard to give Alice a proper burial.
We had thought about bringing Alice’s body home to England but in the end had decided that, much as it pained us, America was her home and, no matter what we thought about Patrick Kennedy, he was Alice’s father and it was only fitting that she should be buried next to him.
Leonard’s relationship with Mum is out in the open now. I really don’t know why they didn’t tell me in the first place. I wouldn’t have minded. I’m gradually coming to terms with the idea that Leonard is my father. It feels quite surreal when I think too hard about it, so I let the notion wash over me from time to time and I try not to question it too much. It’s difficult – it’s not in my nature to let things go, but I’m trying to take a new approach to things. I’m trying for a more Luke-like approach to life. It’s hard to break old habits, but I’m starting to let go, I’ve even cut down my working hours to three days a week now.
Leonard has taken on a new assistant and the business is just Carr & Tennison, Solicitors.
Luke is also making some changes. At the beginning of the next academic term, he’s going to be teaching evening classes – art, of course. He says he wants to make a more regular financial contribution to the family. I like the new balance we have and the girls, Hannah in particular, are always so excited when it’s my turn to take them to school and nursery. I’m sure the novelty will wear off soon for them, but for now I’m making the most of it. I’ve even taken up an invite of coffee with one of the other mums, who Pippa introduced me to. Mine and Pippa’s friendship is back on track after our little blip and I value her company more than ever now.
It’s an unusually chilly day in Florida and I look down at the coffin as the pastor says some words of comfort. Mum stands next to me and I hear her crying softly. I wish I could take away her pain.
Roma and Nathaniel have come to pay their respects. I was worried how Mum and Roma would be in each other’s company, but all my fears were unfounded. They were united in grief for a young woman who was a daughter to them both. They spent some time together yesterday, talking about Alice. Roma was so good sharing her memories of Alice with Mum and although I know it pained Mum at times, I’m certain it has brought her some comfort and will continue to do so in the future. Roma gave Mum some family video footage of Alice taken over the years and an envelope with some more photographs in to replace the ones I had lost, which I now think Tom took from my car immediately after the accident.
‘Thank you so much for coming,’ I say to Roma before she leaves. ‘And for taking the time to speak to Mum yesterday. It means a lot.’
Roma hugs me. ‘You remind me of Alice,’ she says, looking at me. ‘Not just in your looks, but in your nature too. Alice would have been so proud to have you as her sister. She loved you very much.’
I choke back the tears. ‘Thank you. And I always loved her too.’
I return to the car with Luke, leaving Mum and Leonard to follow in their own time.
‘You okay?’ asks Luke, putting his arm around me.
I rest my head on his shoulder. ‘Yeah. I will be.’ I look out the window of the car at the newly dug grave where Alice is buried. How I wish it could have been different. I remember when Alice first got in touch with us and I questioned whether I had ever actually missed her. I still don’t know if I did, but I know with an unflinching certainty that I miss her now and will do for the rest of my life.
The door to the car opens and I look round as Mum and Leonard climb in. Luke asks the driver to take us back to the hotel.
‘We found you in the end, my darling Alice,’ says Mum, looking at the grave as the car pulls away.
I don’t think I’ve ever been more glad to see our home than I am when we pull up this morning. I managed to sleep on the flight but Mum is tired and goes straight to her room.
‘I’ll get off to the office,’ says Leonard. ‘I’ll see you over the weekend, no doubt.’
I step forward and give Leonard a hug. ‘Thanks for everything,’ I say. ‘For looking after Mum. It means a lot.’
‘You don’t have to thank me. It’s what I do. I look after people.’ He smiles. ‘You included.’
I nod and give a half-smile. ‘Thank you.’
‘You know it’s Tom’s funeral tomorrow,’ he says.
I nod again. ‘I’m not going. Part of me feels bad. I feel I’m mourning for the person I thought I knew and yet when I think of the person he really was, I can’t summon up the same emotion.’
‘It’s all still very raw. It will settle down eventually. It will leave a scar, but one that you can live with.’
I walk out to the drive with Leonard, my arm tucked in his. ‘I know. I have a few scars already. One more to add to the collection,’ I say to try to make light of the moment.
We stop at Leonard’s car. ‘Clare, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.
‘Right,’ I say slowly. ‘You’d better ask, then.’
‘That night on the pier with Tom. What did he say to you?’
‘He didn’t say anything,’ I reply steadily.
‘He didn’t show you anything on his phone?’
‘No. He didn’t.’
Leonard appraises me through his beady eyes. ‘I suppose if his phone was ever found, it would be damaged by the salt water by now.’
‘Yeah. I guess so.’
There’s a small silence as Leonard seems to be deciding whether to say something or not. In the end, I guess he decides against it. ‘Right, well, I’d better get on.’
‘Bye, Leonard.’
As soon as Leonard’s car turns out of the gate and I hear the engine power away down the lane, I go straight indoors and up to my bedroom. I turn the lock on the door and go over to my wardrobe. I keep all my shoes in the bottom, neatly paired up on shoe rails. At the back stand my boots. I delve my hand into the long knee-high black-patent boots, which I rarely wear these days but can’t quite bring myself to part with. From the toe of the boot, I pull out a black smartphone. Tom’s phone, which I had stuffed in my pocket just before we went into the water.
Leonard’s comment about Tom’s phone has unnerved me. What if the salt water hasn’t damaged it enough and the image he showed me is still there? I take the phone into the en suite, along with a pair of stilettos. I take the sim card out and with my nail scissors I cut it into three pieces, wrapping each piece individually in tissue paper and flushing them down the toilet. Then I wrap the phone in a towel to deaden the noise and smash the heel of my stiletto down on the screen. I hear the glass crack. I repeat this several times before I unfold the towel. The phone is smashed to smithereens.
I wrap what’s left of the phone in the hand towel and put it into my gym bag, making a mental note to gradually dispose of the pieces over the next few days in various different bins around Brighton.
I go back downstairs and Luke is sitting at the computer. ‘Just thought I’d check my emails while I had five minutes.’
‘Good idea. I dread to think how many I’ve got. I’ve had my phone switched off the whole time we’ve been away.’ I turn my phone on and after a minute it pings into life.
‘Do you want a cup of tea?’ asks Luke. ‘The computer’s on the go-slow.’
‘Yeah, sure. I’ve missed a good British cup of tea.’ I click on the emails. ‘Forty-eight emails and I bet they’re all junk,’ I say, as I begin to quickly scroll through, looking out for any important ones.
I almost miss it as I whizz through the names, but then I see it. Two emails from Tom Eggar. I drop my phone as if it’s burnt my fingers. ‘Shit!’
‘You okay? It’s not broken is it?’
I grab my phone up from the floor. ‘No. It’s fine.’ I tap on the first email entitled Plan B.
Hi Clare
I set this up while you were in America. I knew you had sussed out what Martha and I were up to. If you’re reading this, then I guess you didn’t want to come in on Plan A and I’m possibly in jail, which I sincerely hope not, or I’ve disappeared off the face of the earth where no one will find me or the money.
So, why am I emailing you? Well, Clare, this is Plan B aka REVENGE. Had you decided to accept my offer, then I would have cancelled this scheduled email.
Of course, I will never get the satisfaction of witnessing the effects of Plan B, but imagine me sitting on a beach somewhere hot with a nice cool beer, wondering how the hell you’re going to explain this one to Luke.
Enjoy the rest of your life!
Tom
