by Val McDermid
Charlie got to her feet, sighing. 'I think it's better if I leave. Magda, I'm really not here to give your mother some identity-politics Brownie points. For what it's worth, your mother has never had any apparent issue with my sexuality. I always reckoned she'd totally got that bit in the New Testament that says you can hate the sin but you have to love the sinner.' She picked up her coat and backpack and headed for the door. 'I'll see myself out.' She gave them a sketchy wave and a lopsided smile. 'I do know the way, after all.'
'I'll be in touch,' Corinna called after her. As Charlie disappeared round the corner of the stair, she turned to her daughters and said, 'How gracious my children turned out to be. How dare you drive my friends out of my kitchen.'
'Same way you would cheerfully drive my lover out of my life,' Magda said.
'How can you be so certain about anything you've said today, Magda? We've never talked about any of these things. This is the first time you've even admitted Jay is your lover.' Corinna's voice had the edge of a steel blade.
'See? The very words you use are loaded: "admitted". Like I was pleading guilty to a crime. This is precisely why I've said nothing up till now. Because I knew it was going to be a nightmare and, frankly, the trial was enough for me to contend with.' Magda picked up her coat. 'I don't know. I had this crazy notion that the world had moved on. That when it came to their own flesh and blood, even my parents could step away from their bigotry and accept that love was more important than dogma.' She struggled to get her arms into her sleeves, violently yanking at her coat. She was close to tears now, but determined not to give way. 'I genuinely hoped you would say something like, "Forget about the past, anyone you love has a place in this family." Well, that just shows how bloody stupid I am.' She turned on her heel and half-ran for the stairs.
'Magda, wait,' Corinna said.
From the third step, Magda looked back. 'I don't belong in this family any more.'
5
Charlie had made a bet with herself. Five minutes before Magda emerged. She'd give it ten to be on the safe side, but she didn't think she would be on the losing end. She hoped not; it might technically be spring but it was still bloody cold. She settled down on the knee-high brick wall that separated the Newsams' garden from the pavement. It was a typical North Oxford street. Big redbrick Victorian houses that had been built for an era when everyone had servants. Set back from the street, mostly protected by dense shrubberies. Four storeys, with small rooms in the attics for maids and children, and kitchens in the basement. When Charlie had first been a regular visitor to the Newsam house, most of them had still been family homes and on summer evenings the gardens had resonated with the cries of playing children. Now, only a few remained as single units. The economics of property prices in the area had led to most of them being transformed into flats and bedsits, recognisable by their banks of doorbells and intercoms. She wondered what sounds travelled now on the evening breezes.
She'd been sitting on the wall for a little over three minutes when the door slammed and Magda strode furiously down the drive. Her eyes were heavy with tears, but she still had a grip on herself. Even in this state, Charlie thought, she had the kind of beauty that provoked a sharp intake of breath. When she saw Charlie, she stopped short. 'What the hell are you doing just sitting there?'
'Waiting for you.' Charlie stayed where she was. 'I'm going down to Schollie's to see Dr Winter. Do you want to walk with me? Or we could go for a drink, if you'd rather.'
Magda looked taken aback. 'You'd keep Dr Winter waiting just to buy me a drink? You must have forgotten what she's like.'
Charlie grinned and stood up. 'I don't have a firm appointment. I thought I'd just take a chance on finding her at home.'
Magda gave a little snort of laughter. 'Where else would she be? It's not like she's got any friends to hang out with.'
'I always thought your mum got on pretty well with her.'
'She's got more stroppy in her old age. Mum, that is. And Dr Winter really can't be doing with anything other than craven submission. So it's not as comfortable a relationship as it used to be.'
'You sound like you should be in my line of work,' Charlie said. 'So, what's it to be? A walk to college or a drink?'
'A walk, I think,' Magda said cautiously.
Good choice for someone who wanted to be sure of her get-away, Charlie thought. She turned on to the street and Magda fell into step beside her. 'Why did you wait for me?' Magda said at once.
'I thought you might appreciate someone in your corner to sound off to.'
'And you're in my corner?'
'I've been out since I was twenty. People talk about coming out as if it was a discrete moment. One minute you're in the closet, the next you're out. Only it's not like that. It's a whole succession of moments. You come out to your friends. To your family. To your colleagues. To the faceless person on the end of a phone from the car insurance firm. To the mortgage broker. To the new neighbours. To the pub quiz team. These days it's mostly OK because even the raging homophobes know better than to show off their prejudices in public.' Charlie gave a deep sigh. 'But every single gay person I know has been on the receiving end of a vile and hurtful reaction at least once in their life. I suspect it's similar for black people, except they don't have a choice about confronting it. So yes, I'm in your corner. I know how hard this is. Especially since you've been rendered so very publicly straight by the terrible thing that happened to Philip.'
'I just want them to be pleased that I'm happy,' Magda said plaintively. 'I've had such a shit time since Philip died, you'd think they could maybe manage that.'
'It doesn't work like that. It actually makes them more protective. Corinna's desperate for you not to be any more hurt than you are already. She thinks that what you're doing is a recipe for getting hurt.'
'Why would Jay hurt me? She loves me.'
Where to begin, thought Charlie. Like so many doctors she'd encountered, Magda seemed to be an uneasy mixture of maturity and naivete. Charlie put it down to an unnaturally prolonged time as a student combined with exposure to emotionally shattering moments. 'Our parents always want us to have the easiest, happiest life. Looking at it from the outside, being a lesbian doesn't promise that. Add to that the fact that, for whatever reason, Corinna and Jay fell out a long time ago. She's scared for you. That's what's at the bottom of this.'
'There's nothing to be scared of. I'm happier than I've ever been. I thought I loved Philip, but this is like watching a colour film after you've only ever seen black and white.' They turned a corner into another street which looked just like the one they'd left except that its different orientation meant the tree buds were further advanced.
Charlie grinned. 'Believe me, I know that feeling.'
'How long have you and Maria been together?'
It was, Charlie thought, the invariable question from the newly minted. 'Seven years. We did the civil partnership three years ago.'
'What does she do?'
'She's a dentist. She specialises in implants. Frankly, it would drive me completely nuts in about three hours, but she's fascinated by it.'
'How did you meet?'
The other inevitable question. 'At a wedding. One of her colleagues was marrying one of mine. We were both invited to the reception. Her gaydar twitched first and she chatted me up over the dessert buffet. I thought she was very cute. Tell you the truth, I thought she might be a bit of a bimbo.' Charlie laughed, still rueful at her mistake. 'I could not have been more wrong. What about you and Jay? How did you meet?' She glanced quickly at Magda, who had her chin tucked down and her eyes on the pavement.
'Well, obviously, we met when Jay was still considered a fit and proper person to take care of us kids.'
'Of course. But I don't imagine you kept in touch all these years. How did you run into each other again?'
'There's a short cut here,' Magda said, indicating an alley fenced with high wooden palings that ran between the houses. 'It brings you out by the meadow
gate.'
'I remember.' Charlie followed her, forced from her side by the narrowness of the path. 'So where did you guys meet up?'
Magda sighed. 'I know you're a friend of my mum's but, if I tell you, will you promise not to tell her?'
Charlie forced a chuckle. This was getting interesting and she didn't want to lose Magda now. 'Don't tell me it was somewhere disreputable.'
'No, nothing like that. But I just don't want her to get the wrong idea. Promise?'
'OK, I promise.' Charlie sidestepped a puddle, felt wet grass switch against her trouser leg.
'It's the most unromantic thing,' Magda said. 'We bumped into each other in the ladies' loo in Magnusson Hall. At my wedding. I came out of one of the cubicles and she was washing her hands at the basin. Our eyes met in the mirror, and we recognised each other straight away. It was amazing. Electric. But of course, nothing came of it. I mean, how could it? I'd just got married, it didn't make any sense to me.'
Liar, Charlie thought. Magda's insistence felt fake. Like a politician who finds five different ways to not tell the truth, she was responding to what had not been asked. 'But it was a connection.'
'Yes. A connection. Then, when Philip died, she got in touch. Asked if there was anything she could do. To be honest, the thought of spending some time with someone who hadn't known Philip was a relief. Can you understand that?'
The path broadened out and Charlie moved back to Magda's side. 'Completely. The death of someone close can assume an overwhelming presence in our lives. There's no hiding place from the dead. So yes, I totally get why that would appeal.'
Magda nodded. 'That's right.' She smiled and her whole face lit up for the first time. 'So I said yes, she could take me out for a pizza.'
It was a very different story from the version Corinna believed. And it would only serve to fuel Corinna's bizarre conviction that Jay was a multiple murderer whose latest victim had been her son-in-law. The trouble was, it unsettled Charlie. It made her instincts twitch. The encounter felt predatory and calculated and that made her wonder whether Corinna was quite as deluded as she'd thought. 'Nice story,' she said, giving no hint of her disquiet.
'Charlie?'
'Yes?'
'Do you know why Jay and my mum fell out? Was it really not just bigotry and prejudice?'
Charlie considered her options and decided she didn't actually have any. 'I don't know. All I can say is, your mum might not approve of homosexuality, but she's not a bigot. As far as I am aware, she's always been able to separate the general from the particular. I was in my second year when I started coming out to people and she was one of the first I told. And it changed nothing between us as far as I could tell. She certainly didn't stop using me as a babysitter. So whatever the reason for Jay being banished, I don't think it was because Corinna thought she'd be a bad influence.' Charlie gave Magda a gentle punch on the arm. 'Though, as things have turned out, it seems I might have been.'
Magda's smile was vague. 'That's a weird thought. But it doesn't make any sense. Jay says she can't think of any other reason why Corinna acted like she did.'
'It's a long time ago. Maybe they've both forgotten what was behind it. People do sometimes, you know.'
They reached a T-junction in the path and Magda pointed to the left. 'The gate's down there, just round the bend. It brings you into Schollie's meadow. I'm going back to the house.' She turned to face Charlie. 'I came to tell both of my parents about me and Jay. I'm not looking forward to telling my dad. He'll totally lose his mind. But I'm not leaving it up to Mum to break it to him.'
'You will be OK,' Charlie said. 'It's all survivable. You've got your woman to go home to. They can't take that from you.'
Magda suddenly threw her arms round Charlie. 'Thank you. It's been really helpful, talking to you.'
Startled, Charlie returned the hug. 'Any time.' She stepped back, fishing a card out of her backpack. 'Here. Any time you want to get in touch. It would be good to hear from you.'
Charlie wasn't sure if the flush on Magda's cheeks was from the fresh air or the impulsive embrace. Either way, it emphasised her youth, reminding Charlie of the child she'd first known all those years ago. Magda took the card and tucked it into her pocket. 'It's weird. My minders coming back to take care of me.'
'I guess Corinna had good taste in babysitters.'
Magda groaned as she backed away. 'That's so not funny. Listen, I hope you catch up with Dr Winter.'
Charlie watched her swing round and run back up the alley to the street. It had been an interesting encounter. She turned round and started walking towards the meadow gate, hoping she could persuade Helena Winter into similar indiscretion, but doubting it.
As she opened the wrought-iron gate, her phone rang. Expecting it to be Maria, she was in no hurry to answer. But when she glanced at the screen, her heart leapt. She fumbled with the controls, almost cutting the caller off in her eagerness. 'Lisa,' she said, trying to sound relaxed.
'Hi, Charlie. How's your day so far?'
Charlie couldn't resist a dry little laugh. 'Interesting,' she said. 'In the Chinese sense.'
'Good. We all need the stimulus of interesting days. You can tell me all about it.' Lisa's tone was intimate, her voice seductive as ever. 'I am so sorry I missed you last night. I hated having to let you down.' She sighed, as if she'd been genuinely distressed. 'You know how it is. It's hard to say no when you think you might be able to help. It feels really selfish to walk away for the sake of my own pleasure. I'd rather have been with you, believe me.'
Charlie truly didn't care if Lisa was spinning her a line. It sounded convincing to her and as long as there was still a possibility that things could work out the way she dreamed of, she would go along with whatever Lisa said. 'I understand,' she said. 'Your time's not your own.'
'Exactly,' Lisa said. 'But I have managed to find some space today, if you're still around. I've cleared an hour, and if you could come over to my place, I wouldn't have to waste time going off to meet you then getting back here. Then we could make the most of what little time we've got. How would that be?'
Fabulous? A dream come true? Charlie cleared her throat. 'Which hour did you have in mind?' She shifted the phone to her other hand so she could look at her watch. It was just after one. Why was she even bothering? It didn't matter what time it was, she knew she was at Lisa's beck and call.
'Can you be here for half past three?'
Play it cool, Charlie, play it cool. 'That shouldn't be a problem. I'm on my way to see someone at St Scholastika's right now, but I'll make sure I'm free in plenty of time.'
'That's wonderful,' Lisa said. 'I can't wait to see you. I'm really looking forward to hearing all about your mysterious adventures.'
And that was that. Dead air. No endearments, no small talk. Just Lisa making her arrangements then moving on to the next thing. Charlie didn't care. She punched the air like an adolescent, grinning and doing a surprisingly graceful little pirouette on the tips of her boots. In the space of a couple of minutes, the world had shifted on its axis. Things were going her way. It didn't matter that she'd spent her entire undergraduate career in fear and awe of Dr Helena Winter. Today the tables would be turned.
Today, she would slay the dragon.
6
Walking into Helena Winter's den was like stepping through a wormhole in time. Nothing had apparently changed in the nineteen years since Charlie had sat down on the dark red sofa for her first tutorial on Aristotle. The walls were lined from floor to ceiling with books - and a quick glance suggested to Charlie that most of them were the same books, in the same slots - apart from the chimney breast, which was occupied by a large Victorian watercolour of Zeno holding forth to a rapt audience in a painted portico. The furnishings were Spartan: a sofa and an armchair, a plain pine table and chair by the window. The gas fire hissed and popped as it had all those years before, and Helena Winter herself seemed unaltered by the passage of time.
She had opened the door in res
ponse to Charlie's knock, looking as slim and straight-backed as ever. Dr Helena Winter, the Prescott Fellow in Philosophy, immaculate in tailored skirt and cashmere twin-set, a single strand of pearls at her neck, her white hair in the same perfect chignon. A bluestocking version of Audrey Hepburn, Charlie thought. There had been a fleeting moment of uncertainty in her dark blue eyes, then relief as she recognised her visitor. 'Miss Flint,' she said. 'Or is it still doctor?'
Straight for the jugular, as ever. 'It's still doctor. But I prefer Charlie.'
Helena inclined her head. 'Come in, Charlie. This is a surprise. ' She held the door wide for Charlie to enter. 'Have a seat.'
For a moment, Charlie diced with the wicked thought of taking the armchair, but either her courage failed or her good manners prevailed and she made for the sofa.
'We don't see you in college very often,' Helena said, settling into her armchair and helping herself to one of the strong untipped cigarettes she used to smoke in tutorials, but only after six in the evening. She caught Charlie's raised eyebrows and said, 'I'm not permitted any longer to smoke in the company of undergraduates. So I take my pleasures when I may. Tell me, to what do I owe this visit, Charlie? Have you decided that a purely academic career is, after all, what you crave?'
She's playing with me. She knows about the Hopton case and she's enjoying herself. Charlie smiled. 'Too late for that, I think.'
'Such a pity. If only you'd believed in your abilities and stuck to philosophy, you could have taken a First, and all of this could have been yours.' Helena gestured magnanimously with both hands, indicating that the room, the college, Oxford itself had all been within her gift and Charlie's grasp.
'I wasn't that good a philosopher.'
'On the contrary, my dear. You had a very fine grasp of the complexities of moral philosophy. You could have made a lasting contribution. It was always my regret that you chose so ephemeral a field in which to work.'
