by Karen Clarke
I stared at the kiss as if trying to solve a riddle. It didn’t mean anything. Declan was here for a purpose, I reminded myself. I just had to find out what it was.
Chapter 36
When Ifan arrived to pick Morag up, I made my way through the pub with Lily. Annie followed us out the back to the stairs. ‘I’m going to drive over to the cottage to help your aunt,’ she said. ‘If you need anything, give Bryn a shout, and help yourself to whatever you want from the kitchen.’
I turned to face her, knowing I looked a state despite grabbing a shower while Morag watched Lily before breakfast. I’d had to put on the clothes I’d worn the day before. ‘Thanks for this,’ I said. ‘You’re a good friend.’
‘We care about your aunt.’ Annie’s tone was matter-of-fact, her smile sincere. ‘That’s how it works around here.’
There were sounds of a child running around in one of the rooms above, followed by a squeal and a thump. Annie winced. ‘That’s Gwynn, having one of her tantrums,’ she said. ‘Her granny’s taking her out in a few minutes so you should get some peace.’
‘There’s no need.’
‘Believe me, there is.’ Smiling again, she wound a mustard-coloured scarf around her neck and untucked her hair. ‘If she doesn’t work off some energy she’ll still be charging around tonight.’
When Annie had gone, I headed up to the bedroom with Lily and changed her nappy on the bed, singing to her softly, tickling her feet to make her smile. Gwynn’s shrieks and thumping feet reverberating through the walls was somehow reassuring; sounds of an uncomplicated life.
I tried to keep my mind empty as I crawled under the duvet, Lily tucked close to feed, as if my thoughts might transmit through my breast milk and taint her.
Worried about nodding off with her underneath me, I made a nest on the floor with the other duvet and a pillow, and watched Lily closely until her eyes drifted shut before climbing back under the covers and crashing into an exhausted sleep.
*
It was late afternoon when Morag came to pick me up. I woke with a start to see Lily gazing at the ceiling, gurgling to herself, and Bryn’s voice calling that my aunt was waiting.
‘I won’t say it’s as good as new,’ she said back at the cottage. ‘A lot of stuff was broken, but Annie’s given me some plates and mugs from the pub and I’ve restocked the kitchen as best I can. Everything else can be replaced later.’
It was odd being back. The feeling I’d had of someone watching was gone. The trees were no longer sinister, hiding prying eyes, and the cottage looked tranquil and welcoming from the outside, with smoke curling from the chimney.
‘I thought if I didn’t come back right away, I never would,’ Morag said, while I stood by the van, looking around me. ‘I hate the thought he was here, that he’d been through my things, but I won’t let him drive me out. I’ve been happy here.’
‘I’m glad.’ I wondered whether I’d feel the same. The memory of Bernhard materialising at the top of the stairs made my stomach shrivel. The sight of him with the rifle – had he intended to use that, or the knife the police had found in his belt? – was still too fresh in my mind.
Once inside, my fears subsided a little. Apart from the dresser being empty of china, the place looked much the same as it had. The cushions were back on the sofa, albeit upside down – ‘Just until I replace it,’ Morag said – and the rug and floors were clear. The kitchen looked cleaner than it had been before. The wall map was back up, pinned without a frame but otherwise intact, the ancient phone plugged in. ‘He’d cut the wire again but it’s being fixed tomorrow.’
‘The photos,’ I began.
Morag shook her head. ‘I couldn’t do anything about the those but your mum has an identical album.’
‘She can copy them for you.’
Morag nodded. ‘Ifan fixed the doors and drawers on the dresser. He’s handy with a screwdriver.’ She lifted Lily out of my arms and held her close, bouncing her gently as Lily dribbled and smiled. I noticed my aunt had colour in her cheeks and she’d washed her hair so it shone. She was wearing a navy sweater I hadn’t seen before. The colour flattered her. Being around Ifan flattered her.
‘Has he gone?’ I glanced at the kitchen, though there was nowhere for a big man like Ifan to hide.
‘He’s coming back later.’ Morag’s colour deepened. ‘Annie’s cooking some food for us and he’s bringing it over so we – you—’ she smiled ‘—don’t have to cook and we don’t have to go out either.’
‘That’s nice.’
Skip snuffled around my feet and I crouched to loop my arms around his neck. ‘We needed you last night,’ I said, laughing as he licked my face. ‘You could have given that horrible man a nasty bite.’ It was better to talk lightly about Bernhard, not give him the gravity I was sure he thought he deserved. It was bad enough knowing we’d have to face him in court at some point. I imagined him in his cell, wondering where he’d gone wrong and what he could have done differently, then made him shrink in my mind, smaller and smaller, until he was gone in a puff of smoke.
‘You did that already,’ Morag said, picking up on my tone. ‘You took a nice chunk out of his shoulder.
‘Not a big enough one.’ I straightened, embarrassed suddenly under her laser-beam stare.
‘Where did you learn to use a rifle?’
‘Granddad showed me,’ I said. ‘He told me not to tell anyone, I was only eleven. To be honest, I didn’t think I’d remember what to do, but I’d already seen it under the bed and saw it was loaded and … I don’t know, it just came back to me. Muscle memory, I suppose.’
‘He showed me too, but I didn’t even know whether it still worked.’ Morag widened her eyes. ‘I never expected to use it.’ She stroked Lily’s forehead with her fingertip. ‘Would you have killed him?’
I held her gaze. ‘Not deliberately,’ I said. ‘Would you, in my position?’
‘After what he did to that innocent man?’ She pressed a gentle kiss on Lily’s cheek. ‘After all the killing I’ve seen?’ She shook her head. ‘Maybe he’d have deserved it but I couldn’t have pulled the trigger.’
Her words confirmed what I already knew: she was better than Mum, better than me. My aunt had limits. I was more like my mother than I realised.
‘I’m just going to put my phone on to charge and get changed,’ I said. ‘I need to get out of these clothes.’ I hesitated. ‘Is it OK to go upstairs?’
‘There was no damage up there, but I changed the bedding anyway. I found your ring under the pillow and put it on the windowsill,’ she said. ‘I thought we could get it made smaller, so you can wear it in future.’
‘I’d like that.’ My throat swelled with tears. ‘Did you find the lock of baby hair?’
‘It was in the drawer, like you said.’ Morag’s eyes were shiny. ‘I’d almost forgotten how dark it was. Like mine.’
‘I bet he looks like you.’
She smiled. ‘I don’t care if he doesn’t.’
Leaving her with Lily, I ran up to the bedroom to get my charger and check my suitcase, pulling it from under the bed. The money was still stashed away along with my passport. He hadn’t even looked, maybe losing interest once he’d spotted the rifle.
I changed my clothes, pulling on clean underwear and a grey fleece with black jogging bottoms, before choosing a fresh pair of socks from Morag’s drawer. When I was dressed, I plugged my phone in, breath faltering as the screen lip up. There was a message from Declan. He’d sent it a few minutes after our last exchange, just before my phone died.
We need to talk X
I blinked. Talk about what? Had he spoken to Patrick? Surely he wouldn’t have added the kiss if something was wrong, but then again, he wouldn’t want to alert me if it was. Had he guessed that I knew?
My shoulder ached. A bruise was developing, even as the one on my cheek faded, and the headache I’d slept off earlier pounded back. I grabbed Lily’s carrier, strapping it on as I ran back down to Morag. ‘I think I�
��ll take Lily out with the dog.’
My aunt was pacing around with room with Lily, pointing out things, saying the words slowly. It brought me up short, seeing her as she might have been when her son was a baby. I wondered whether she’d met the family who adopted him and opened my mouth to ask just as she said, quietly, ‘I wish your grandparents had met her.’ She’d folded my grandfather’s black coat and laid it over the back of the rocking chair, and I suddenly understood that she felt close to her parents here, surrounded by their things, and regretted being away from them during their final years.
‘Me too,’ I said gently. ‘Gran would have been knitting up a storm.’
Morag punched out a laugh. ‘I can’t see me or your mother getting busy with knitting needles, but I bet Biddy will have whipped something up the next time you see her.’
Next time. I liked the sound of it.
Smiling, I held out my arms. ‘Come on, sweet pea. Let’s get some fresh air and give Aunty Morag five minutes’ peace.’
‘Are you sure?’ She was slow to hand Lily over. ‘It looks like it might rain.’
‘We won’t go far.’ I slotted Lily’s arms and legs into the carrier and reached for a raincoat on the hook by the door. The baseball cap I’d worn the day I arrived was still there, like a relic from another life. ‘I just need to clear my head for a few minutes.’ I managed to zip the coat over the carrier, so just Lily’s head was poking out, her hood covering her hair. Skip pranced on his hind legs, yelping with excitement.
‘You can’t not go now.’ Morag gave the dog a despairing look. ‘I’ll make some fresh coffee,’ she said. ‘Thank God he didn’t damage my cafetiere.’
Skip shot off as soon as we were outside. It was less blustery and the sky had brightened, deepening the green of the leaves all around. Nearby, a pigeon cooed and somewhere lambs were bleating. It was spring, I reminded myself. There might even be bluebells in the woods. Nature was doing what it did every year. If I was lucky, I’d be here next year to see it begin again. Maybe not at the cottage, but not far away. Somewhere I could decorate a nursery for Lily, do all the things I hadn’t had the opportunity to do before. Once I’d spoken to Declan … maybe then, I really could put the past behind me.
I set off after Skip, past the neat rows of cabbages, chard and carrots, enjoying the sweet scent of compost in the air. At least Bernhard had left the allotment alone. I shuddered, imagining him watching Morag from the edge of the woods as she pushed her hands through the earth, tending to her vegetables while he planned his next move. He’d discovered where she kept her spare key, had let himself into the cottage more than once before she gave it to me. I knew it had been him, watching as I dozed that day while feeding Lily on the sofa. What would have happened if I’d opened my eyes?
‘Hey, boy!’ Skip was running back as if he’d heard something. I could hear it too. A car engine approaching.
I turned, heart leaping into my throat. A muddy silver 4x4 had pulled up next to the van. The door opened and Declan got out.
My hands automatically curved around Lily as I made my way back, stomach curdling with dread. ‘What are you doing here?’ I aimed for a friendly tone, but fear was blocking my throat and it sounded forced. ‘I thought we were meeting tomorrow.’
‘I had to talk to you.’
My heart thumped as though trying to break through my ribs. ‘About what?’
‘Hey.’ Morag came out, a gingham tea towel in her hands. ‘You found us.’
I remembered I hadn’t told her about Declan’s visit the night before last. It felt like a decade ago.
He was the one who’d followed us from the pub and when we visited Mum. I hadn’t imagined the car at the service station.
‘I need to speak with Grace.’ He was wearing jeans with a grey hoodie, a black waterproof over the top. He looked tired, dark crescents under his eyes. His smile was thin.
‘OK.’ Morag glanced at me, eyebrows raised, then turned to go back inside. ‘Call if you need anything.’
‘There’s nothing you can’t say in front of my aunt.’ I didn’t want to be left alone with him.
Morag swivelled, her smile gone, and moved closer. ‘You heard her,’ she said to Declan, her tone no longer friendly.
He gave me an imploring look. ‘You might want to do this in private.’
‘Do what?’ Morag looked from him to me. ‘What’s going on?’
‘You didn’t mention what happened last night.’ His words were directed at me. His tone was light but I sensed something underneath, like pebbles at the bottom of a stream.
‘What do you mean?’ Lily moved against me. Too hot now, I unzipped the coat and her fingers fastened around my thumb. ‘How did you know about last night?’
‘News travels in a place like this.’
‘But you’re not staying in Fenbrith.’
‘The police station is in Caernarfon.’ His shrug was stiff. He was nervous, I realised, despite trying to appear relaxed. ‘Hugh got wind of it, told me about a botched robbery up here, that someone got shot and a man was in custody.’
‘It was someone I knew a long time ago,’ Morag said at my side. ‘A dangerous man.’ She glanced at me. ‘Grace saved my life.’
‘Wow.’ Declan’s gaze softened. ‘I had no idea.’
I felt a shot of heat behind my eyes, pressure building around my temples. ‘I didn’t. The police arrived. It was Ana who saved the day.’
Declan was looking at me oddly now, as if he couldn’t work me out. I wondered whether he’d thought the supposed robbery was something to do with Patrick and had come to check up on me. But … Patrick had sent him, so it didn’t make sense.
‘Why are you here?’
He rubbed his forehead. ‘When you messaged, I expected you to say something about what happened last night but you didn’t even mention it.’
‘I would have told you tomorrow.’ I forced out a laugh. ‘I made a date, didn’t I? At the pub.’
‘You know that I know Patrick.’
I felt the air being sucked out of my lungs.
‘Grace?’ Morag’s gaze sharpened. ‘What’s going on?’
I stared at Declan. ‘I thought it was you,’ I said. ‘I thought you were the one watching me, that you attacked me, left the note, that you were coming into the cottage when no one was here.’
‘Grace, what are you talking about?’
Ignoring Morag, I continued. ‘I know you only spoke to me that day in the village because Patrick sent you. What’s the plan, Declan?’ I jutted my chin. ‘Get me to fall for you, spill the truth and … then what? I don’t understand what it is you want. I thought you liked me.’ I hated how pathetic it sounded. ‘I thought we could be friends.’
‘Grace, I do like you.’ He took a step closer, arm outstretched as if to restrain a wild horse, and looked at Morag. ‘I am who I said I was.’ His tone was more measured than mine. ‘I’m Declan Walsh. I’m not here to hurt your niece.’
I backed away, holding tight to Lily. ‘He’s come to take my daughter back to Patrick.’
‘But that’s just it.’ His hand dropped to his side. The look in his eyes was one of agonising sadness. ‘You’re not her mother,’ he said. ‘You’re her nanny.’
Chapter 37
The silence following Declan’s words was profound. My muscles felt weak, like melting candle wax, as his words ricocheted around my skull. You’re her nanny.
‘Grace?’ Morag spoke at last, her voice tentative. ‘Is it true?’
Blood pulsed inside my temples. ‘Of course not.’ I tried to swallow and felt like choking. ‘Of course I’m her mother. It’s … it’s not what you think. I—’
‘Grace, talk to me.’
As Declan advanced, I turned and ran. Skip barked, thinking it was a game as I headed for the woods, pulling up the zip of my coat as extra support for Lily.
Panting, I crashed along the path and through the trees, heading for the field I’d been in days ago. I had no idea where I
was going after that, only that I needed to get away, to run, run, run.
‘Grace!’
He was coming after me. I heard the crunch of boots behind me and tried to speed up, but couldn’t move fast enough with Lily strapped against my chest. Scared I was jolting her too hard, that I might trip over a root, I slowed to a jog, pulling in painful breaths. ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry, sweetheart.’ Sweat prickled my hairline. When I looked at Lily, her eyes seemed full of reproach. What was I doing? I’d run once before. I couldn’t keep running. I didn’t even want to, but we weren’t safe if Declan didn’t believe me. If he was on Patrick’s payroll, he might do anything, no matter what I said. I sank behind a tree trunk, pressing my cheek against the bark, which smelt of lichen and moss.
‘Grace.’ He was there, his hand cupping my elbow, his breath coming hard as he pulled me gently to my feet.
I looked at him through a haze of tears and saw only concern in his eyes. His face was pale in the greenish light edging through the trees and shadowed with worry.
Branches creaked around us, something rustling in the undergrowth. A gust of wind tugged my hair across my face. As if sensing something was wrong, Lily began crying, her mouth wide open, her eyes screwed up. ‘Hush, hush, little baby, it’s fine, it’s fine, it’s all fine, don’t cry.’ I bounced her, one hand on the back of her head, fresh tears pushing to my eyes. ‘Please don’t do this,’ I said to Declan.
‘Come back and talk,’ he appealed. ‘I promise I’m not here to hurt you, or to take Lily away. I just want to hear your side of the story.’
My side of the story. The story Patrick had cooked up and I’d gone along with. The stupid, stupid story I should never have agreed to. The story I thought had ended with Elise’s death but clearly wasn’t over. Wouldn’t be over until the truth came out.
I wiped tears off my cheek with my wrist and stroked Lily’s hair to soothe her as her cries subsided. A feeling of inevitability stole over me. ‘I’ll tell you, if you promise to hear me out.’
He made a sound, like air being punched from his chest. ‘I promise.’
