My Mother, the Liar
Page 20
‘Now what are you doing?’ Amy asked temperamentally.
‘Taking a leaf out of your book – finding out where Diana Lovell lives.’
‘Do you think she’s there?’
‘Eighty per cent sure.’
Inside they found a free computer and logged on. It was shockingly easy to find people. Diana Lovell was, and they had her address in minutes. The next task was a map search for Diana’s street in relation to their location.
‘It’s miles away, Dad!’ Amy protested, but Charlie insisted he wasn’t going to get in another cab again that day. Besides, he was starving and wasn’t going anywhere else with an empty stomach.
The offerings in the internet café were none too appealing, so Amy went to pay for their session while Charlie went outside to suss out a decent place to eat. While she was waiting for the man behind the counter to work out what they owed, she glanced up at the TV he had been watching. Twenty-four-hour Sky News. There was no sound, just a reporter standing in front of a burned-out house, firemen still wandering around in the background. People in white paper suits and blue plastic shoe covers could be seen in the distance. But it was the moving headline that caught her attention: ‘Further tragedy at The Limes’.
She handed over the money to the man, telling him to keep the change.
Outside Charlie had beaten her to it. He was standing outside the newsagent’s next door, staring at the latest news that was scrawled in black marker pen behind the mesh of the A board outside. This one was more graphic: ‘Another gruesome death in House of Horror’. He held a newspaper in his hand, a late edition hot off the press. Now they knew why the police wanted to speak to Rachel so urgently.
Amy scanned the article over his shoulder. It told them nothing except that the house had burned down, a body had been found and that Frances had been arrested in a ‘shocking twist’.
‘Who do you think it was in the fire?’
‘Stella,’ Charlie said unequivocally. A shiver had run down his spine when he had spotted the headline. It had triggered a memory, long buried. A passing comment, made years ago, after a particularly vitriolic exchange between Valerie and Roy. They had been arguing about the house as usual. Roy had wanted her to mortgage it and release the equity. She had refused. Stella had been caught between them as usual.
Charlie had been hovering in the kitchen, keeping out of the way, when Stella had come in. She had walked over to the sink and gripped its porcelain edge, her knuckles white from the effort. He had asked her if she was all right. ‘One day I’m going to take a torch to this place, with me in it, then neither of them will have it,’ she had said. He’d laughed at the time and told her he wouldn’t blame her.
***
Diana let herself into the house quietly, closing the front door with the merest hint of a click. She hoped that Rachel would be sleeping, or at least getting some badly needed rest.
In the hallway, she hung up her coat and debated how she would approach the subject of her visitors that day. It would expose Rachel, peel away her defences, and Diana didn’t know where that would leave them, didn’t know if their relationship could stand that level of knowledge. She was half-tempted to say nothing, but an economy of truth was equal to a lie. Diana never lied. A single episode of a soap opera told you all you needed to know about the injurious nature of lies.
‘I didn’t hear you come in. Want a cup of tea?’
Rachel’s voice startled her. ‘Oh, I thought you might be asleep. In fact, why are you in the kitchen when you should be resting?’ she said, her maternal switch instantly flicking into the ‘on’ position.
‘Because I’m feeling a lot better. Go and sit down; I’ll make the tea.’
‘And how are you going to carry it hop-a-long?’
Rachel looked down at her duff leg and smiled. ‘Fair point. I’ll make it, you carry it.’
Diana followed her into the kitchen, and watched pensively as Rachel limped about.
‘How was the centre – manic as usual?’ Rachel asked as she set out two mugs.
Might as well get straight to the point. ‘Not too bad actually. I had a couple of unusual visitors.’
‘Yeah?’
She waited until Rachel had put the kettle down. She didn’t want a scald added to her list of injuries. ‘Charlie and Amy Jones – they were looking for you.’
Rachel paused, a spoonful of sugar suspended in mid-air. ‘Did you tell them I was here?’
‘Of course not. But they were worried about you.’
‘So you know who they are then?’ Rachel said, depositing the sugar in the mug with more precision than Diana had expected.
‘Charlie explained the situation.’
‘He would. Can you bring these? I think we should sit down.’
Diana picked up the mugs and carried them through to the lounge. She waited until Rachel was settled on the sofa, and passed her the tea.
‘How did they trace me to you?’
‘From a letter – he said it was pinned up in a café. One of our fundraiser thank you notes. Your name is on the bottom.’
Rachel nodded slowly. ‘What else did they say?’
‘That they were worried about you, that you had discharged yourself from hospital.’ Diana noted the flush of shame that swept Rachel’s cheeks. ‘And that there was something important you needed to know.’
‘What?’
She hadn’t looked at Diana directly since Charlie and Amy had been mentioned. Her tone was defensive and Diana could see the walls going up with every second that passed.
‘I don’t know what it means but he said to tell you “it’s not true”. He insisted it was important,’ Diana said, wondering what Rachel’s response would be.
Rachel just shrugged. ‘No idea what it means either. So how do you feel now, knowing that I kept the truth from you, that I abandoned my husband and my child?’
Diana looked at her friend and felt a rush of sorrow for her. ‘Rachel, this is me you’re talking to. I don’t judge – you know that. I spend my life with women who make difficult decisions because of difficult circumstances every day. Of all people, I know that everyone has their reasons for what they do. I respect your privacy just as much as I ever did. Yes, I have questions, but I’m not going to ask them. Yes, I’m concerned for you, but I’m not going to force the issue. The thing I’m most upset about is knowing that you jeopardised your safety by leaving hospital too soon. It hurts me that you care so little about yourself.’
Rachel stared into her tea. ‘I know and I’m sorry. I had my reasons. For all of it.’
They sat in silence for a while. Diana knew that Rachel had no intention of elaborating on Charlie’s story, knew that there was good chance she would be out of the door as soon as her back was turned. Desperate women did such predictably self-destructive things.
‘Have you eaten anything since I left?’ Diana finally asked. She knew when to leave things alone.
‘I’m not hungry,’ Rachel said.
Diana resolved to feed her anyway. Food was the only thing she could impose on her.
Just as she got into the hallway, the doorbell rang. ‘I’ll get it,’ she called. Her face dropped as soon as she opened the door. ‘This really is a step too far!’ she said sharply, instantly shutting the door and finding it blocked by Charlie’s outstretched hand.
‘Wait, please. It’s not what you think,’ he called.
‘What I think seems to have no impression on you at all, Mr Jones. Now, please take your hand away from the door. This is harassment.’ It wasn’t the first time she’d had to deal with an upset male in pursuit of a missing spouse, though it wasn’t often that they cornered her on her own territory. But just in case, she kept two items behind the front door: a baseball bat and a panic button. She braced her foot against the door and reached for the bat. She was just about to press the button, which would summon the police, when he called out again.
‘Something’s happened – the police are trying to
contact Rachel. They phoned me, and the only thing I could think of was to find you. It’s urgent, please …’
Something in his voice made her relax her grip on the bat and pull her finger away from the button. She glanced back towards the lounge. Rachel was standing in the doorway. Diana raised her eyebrows and nodded towards the front door. Rachel frowned then nodded back. ‘Let them in,’ she said quietly.
Diana took her foot away from the door and opened it.
‘Thank you,’ Charlie said. He looked stressed. Amy stood behind him, chewing on a fingernail. Diana realised how much she looked like Rachel now that her young face bore the marks of anxiety.
‘I really am sorry to bother you at your home, but I didn’t know what else to do. I didn’t explain properly before but the police need to speak to Rachel urgently about the murder case. There have been some events that she really needs to know about. Do you know where she is?’
Diana held the door wide. ‘You’d better come in.’
‘No, it’s fine. If you know where she is, I’ll just give you the number of the officer in charge and you can pass it on. I don’t want to bother you any more than I have done already.’ He was reaching inside his jacket to get the number.
‘There’s no need, Rachel’s here.’ She stood back to let them in, watching as Amy surged forward, the anxiety in her face quickly replaced with eagerness as she realised that her mother was inside.
Charlie let her pass, and gave Diana a weary smile. ‘Thank you,’ he said as she closed the door behind him.
Amy was already in the lounge; she ran up to Rachel and flung her arms around her neck, nearly knocking her off her already unsteady feet. ‘Oh God, I’m so glad we found you. I’ve been so worried! I’m so sorry for the things I said to you. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean it,’ she babbled, clinging onto her mother like a large, hysterical monkey.
Chapter 27
Rachel felt tears that were not her own on her face. This sudden onslaught of human contact caught her completely off guard and she froze for a moment, unable to respond. Unable even to breathe. A cacophony of emotions jostled for space in her mind and her body was suffused with a rising panic. She felt sure that the pounding in her chest would deafen the girl. Then some instinct took over, some bizarre primal response that took her by surprise.
She found herself putting her arms around this other human being, and holding her in return. Some untapped part of herself was intuitively murmuring words of comfort into her daughter’s hair. Her good hand began to rub the girl’s back, and her body started to rock gently. Both she and Amy clung on until the taut emotions started to ebb and Rachel could command herself again.
Charlie must have noticed the shock and confusion on her face. This was all too much for her. He reached out and gently pulled his sobbing daughter into his own arms. ‘Come on, love, let’s sit down. Your mum’s not too steady yet, remember?’ he said, as Amy buried her face in his jacket and sobbed uncontrollably.
Rachel stood trembling, her mouth silently forming the word “Mum” as if it were utterly foreign and she was searching for its meaning. She started to sway. Diana shot forward, catching her by the arm and guiding her to the sofa. ‘Let’s get you sat down before you fall down.’
Amy pulled herself away from Charlie, wiped her face on her sleeve, and glanced sheepishly at Rachel. ‘Sorry.’
‘Amy, why don’t you come with me? I’ll find you some tissues and we’ll get you and your dad a cup of tea?’ Diana said, before the emotions in the room reached critical mass again.
Charlie gave Diana a grateful smile and gently pushed Amy towards her. When they had gone, he took the chair opposite Rachel. ‘You OK?’ She could see that he was searching her face for signs of the fugue state that always presaged a fit. She felt dazed, but she didn’t have the kind of vacancy in her senses that he had been searching for in her features.
‘Rachel?’
She shook her head, as if fending off a cloud of annoying insects. ‘I’m OK, I just wasn’t expecting that,’ she said.
‘I’m not sure Amy was either. She’ll be mortified that she showed herself up,’ he quipped.
‘She called me Mum,’ Rachel said absently.
‘Well, that’s what you are.’
She shot him an unexpectedly cold look, and then turned her head away from him. ‘You told Diana the police needed to talk to me. What do they want?’
‘DS Watson phoned me earlier. There have been some developments. Have you seen the news?’
Rachel shook her head. She didn’t own a TV, didn’t read papers. Life was oppressive enough without the media piling on the misery. ‘No, why?’
He took a breath. ‘They’ve arrested Frances. I don’t know the details but it seems there is some new evidence that links her to what happened to Roy.’ He paused, waiting for her reaction.
Rachel raised her eyebrows in surprise. ‘Frances?’
‘Yeah. Like I said, I don’t know the details. And there’s something else.’ He took another breath and told her about The Limes, and Stella. ‘No one has confirmed it’s her,’ he added, but they both knew it couldn’t be anyone else.
Rachel pushed her fist into her mouth to stop herself from crying out. Stella was the only one she had ever cared about, the only one she had ever felt guilty about leaving in that bloody house. ‘Oh God! Stella!’ She groaned, her gut wrenching with grief and regret.
Charlie put his hand out to touch her arm, offer his support, but she recoiled from him as if he had given her an electric shock. ‘Don’t! I’m OK,’ she said sharply, instantly back in control.
Charlie sat back in his chair. She was holding her arm where his fingers had brushed her skin, and there was a battle going on in her head.
***
He had to tell her. He couldn’t stand to watch her like this any more. Diana couldn’t have passed on the message, or she would already know. ‘There’s one more thing,’ he said, praying that Diana would have the prescience to keep Amy in the kitchen. ‘There’s something I need to tell you. I know why you left, and it’s not true.’
She was still holding herself, and staring at him with abject confusion on her face.
‘It’s not true, Rachel. It was a lie. Valerie lied.’
She pulled her head back, her brow creasing with uncertainty. ‘What are you saying? I don’t know what you’re trying to tell me,’ she said, sounding irritated.
‘I’m not your father, Rachel. They lied: Frances, Valerie. They lied. It’s not true.’
Her face contorted as his words sank in. He could see the pain it was causing her, and it squeezed his heart. His own reaction had been gross, but this? What the knowledge was doing to Rachel was torturous. The colour had drained out of her face and she looked as though she was about to vomit. He shot forward, just in time to stop her falling as the inevitable happened and she descended into another fit.
***
When she came to, it was to find Diana at her side, ready with the water. Rachel tried to speak, but Diana hushed her. ‘It’s all right. Drink this and give yourself a minute, then I need you to take your meds.’
Rachel did as she was told, swallowing the water, then the drugs, and settling back onto the cushions of the sofa with a deep sigh.
‘I know what happened – Amy told me. I think she needed to tell someone, so don’t get angry,’ Diana said, as Rachel turned her face away from her. ‘You have an awful lot to come to terms with now, but it can wait. No one is expecting anything of you right now. Except the police, I’m afraid. They’re insisting that you go back.’
Rachel knew that she had to. But she could handle that. ‘It’s fine. I’ll get a train,’ she mumbled, trying to sit up, aware that she was utterly drained of energy. She didn’t think she could make it to the front door, let alone to the station.
‘Don’t be absurd! You have just had a massive fit, and I have just spent God knows how long arguing with some uppity little madam in the police station, trying to convinc
e her that you are in no fit state to go anywhere. But since when have the police been reasonable? Anyway, the upshot is that Charlie is going to drive you there, and Amy and I are going to get a train. They’ve gone to get his van now.’
She put her hand up to silence the protest that Rachel was about to make. ‘No arguments, it’s all arranged! The safest way to get you there is with Charlie. He knows exactly what to do if you have another seizure. Amy and I are going by train, and we will meet you at Charlie’s house when you get there. We are both going to stay there until the police are done with you. One of us will be with you whatever happens. You can protest all you like but this is how it’s going to be. So like it or lump it,’ Diana stated. She was being deliberately obtuse, but for all the right reasons.
Rachel flopped back on the cushions again, too weak and too tired to argue. She didn’t care what any of them did. She just needed to close her eyes. The nightmares of sleep were preferable to the ones she had to face if she stayed awake.
***
Rachel was bundled uncomfortably into Charlie’s van, wrapped in a blanket, and nursing a hot water bottle and a thermos full of soup. (Diana was a great believer in soup as a salve for the savage soul.)
She was tired and confused, her mind flicking between shock over Frances’s arrest, grief for Stella, and the unutterable truth of her existence for the past twenty years. She didn’t want to think about any of it; she just wanted to shut her mind down completely and zone out from reality.
Now that she had been told she had to stay with Charlie and Amy while the police completed their inquiries, there was no escape from any of it. She would have cried, but all capacity to weep had escaped her a long time ago. The reactions she should have been having had gathered themselves into a big knot of misery, which choked out everything else, except one question. Why?
Her childhood had been full of acrimony and dysfunction, a poverty of spirit that had sapped everything. But to tell a lie of such vitriolic magnitude, to have so much hatred of something, to find the will to invent such a monstrous perjury was inconceivable to her. Whatever possessed her family, whichever demon, it was hell-bent on destruction and had achieved its aims. Frances had killed a man, Stella had committed suicide in the worst possible way, and they had all ruined Rachel’s life irretrievably.