The Blue Pool

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The Blue Pool Page 30

by Siobhan MacDonald


  “Yes, I noticed that,” said Kathy. “Although, to be fair to Richard, he can be a bit dim. Maybe he never realised that Sarah had a crush on him. Anyway, I guess the last person he was going to discuss that with was Charlotte.”

  * * *

  The two women spent another hour mulling over the confessions they’d just heard. They aired suspicions and bounced questions off one another as they sipped their double gin and tonics. When the time came to part, Kathy agreed to stay in closer contact with Ruth. It had been the strangest day either of them had ever had.

  Despite being exhausted when she arrived back in Ascot, Ruth recounted everything that had happened to Colin. He brought her a tray of sandwiches and tea as she poured out the whole sorry tragedy to him. It took a while.

  Earlier, as the plane landed at Heathrow, it occurred to her that England was no longer a place of forced exile but somewhere she really enjoyed living. She had so much to be proud of – her career, her husband, the kids, the home she had made, and the friendships she hoped to develop.

  She no longer needed to feel ashamed. Whether or not she became captain at the golf club melted into insignificance. It really didn’t matter anymore. So many of the projects that she’d thrown her energy into over the years had been distractions to help her blur the past.

  Kathy had promised her that she would get in contact with Ava and Penny Nugent. She’d promised that she’d keep her up to date with any new developments. And for once Ruth felt confident that Kathy would do just that.

  Kathy was the only one who could really understand. For over a quarter of a century, the two women had shared a dark and hidden history.

  Charlotte

  Present Day

  There was nothing the police could charge her with. Sitting in the back of the squad car, Charlotte ran through a gamut of possible charges they might try to throw at her. They wouldn’t be able to make any of them stick.

  Concealment of a body?

  They couldn’t charge her with that. That was the work of that fool, Nathan Queally. They could save that charge for him.

  Not reporting a death?

  Was that even a crime? And even if it was – how would they be able to prove that she’d never intended to report it? Charlotte would say that she’d panicked and intended to report it later. But just as she’d been about to report the death, it transpired that there wasn’t a corpse to speak of. How could she report a death if there wasn’t even a body? Charlotte had been just as bewildered as everyone else.

  She would stay calm.

  No need to worry, Charlotte told herself. Richard would sort it all out. He’d been so very quiet, sitting next to her in the back of the squad car as they speeded through the county to the police station in the city. Stephen Shaw was driving. He hadn’t said a word. The silence in the car gave her time to think.

  Charlotte wasn’t unduly concerned about her own situation but she was on edge about her brother. It was so unfortunate the way things had unraveled. There had been little time for her to prepare. And if Charlotte was to look at the situation with the detached eye of an outsider, she’d have to conclude that some might think Richard somewhat compromised. She’d find a way to make things right. She always did.

  On the other hand, it was a small price to pay in the overall scheme of things. Hadn’t Charlotte saved Richard from so much worse? So now he knew the trouble she’d gone to protect him from Sarah Nugent. She would have preferred it if he hadn’t needed to find out ever – especially like this. Poor Richard – he’d only fret.

  There’d been the other difficulties along the way that he’d never known about. Other situations she’d had to handle. She would save him those. He didn’t need to know. He was such a kind-hearted lump of a man and she loved him dearly, but he’d kept her on her toes over the years. All those unsuitable encounters she’d had to manage in the background. It still astounded her just how many unsuitable women Richard had managed to attract.

  Charlotte made her statement at the Henry Street police station in Limerick. She thought she performed rather well given the pressure she was under. The two policemen who took her statement didn’t look much older than her teenage son, Tom. They were polite, fresh-faced young men, no more than boys really. Charlotte imagined she must look quite maternal to them.

  They’d sat opposite her at a pen-gouged table in a room just behind the main desk. One of them brought her a cup of hot sweet tea at her request and when she managed to knock it over, she’d made sure she had a Kleenex at the ready, to dab the young man’s cuff. “Soak it in Daz,” she’d said, dispensing motherly advice. “Always good for tea-stains.” He smiled. It worked. In his eyes she saw reflected an ordinary working mum, more concerned with dispensing laundry advice than disposing of bodies.

  The duty solicitor was older. And a woman. Women had always been harder to manipulate. But the woman put her mind at rest, much as Charlotte had anticipated. Charlotte had had enough time to think in the squad car on the way here. All she had to do was hold her nerve. Things would all work out just fine.

  In fact, it occurred to her that she might even stay over one more night with Richard in Adare. Just the two of them, like the old days. Poor Richard. He still looked uncomfortable and more than a little shocked. That was understandable. She might buy some craft beer and cook some rib-eye steak – rare, just how he liked it.

  Richard hadn’t demanded much from life. He didn’t have expensive or outlandish tastes and always seemed happy to embrace whatever came his way. How much more unfair it then seemed that not a single straightforward decent honest-to-goodness woman had ever come his way.

  Charlotte then turned her thoughts to that that bumbling klutz, Nathan Queally. What the hell had the old fool thought he was playing at? No wonder the army didn’t fucking want him. No wonder he lost his court-martial. He understood nothing. He’d got what he deserved – poking his fat snout about where it wasn’t wanted, like an interfering meddler.

  As she mulled it over, it was likely that Nathan Queally was the one who would get done for concealment of the body. Serve him right, the torture he’d put her through for all these years, wondering what the fuck had ever happened to Sarah. Wondering if Charlotte had imagined the whole sorry episode. Feeling she was losing her mind. It was small comfort now but at least Charlotte had closure in that regard. Her intellect was as sharp and unimpaired as ever.

  But she had to make things right with Richard. He was definitely cool with her. He’d hardly made eye contact since she’d been forced to disclose what she’d done for him. He was shocked of course, but surely when he gave it more thought, which she was sure he would, he would realise how much she’d done for him, how Charlotte had only had his interests at heart?

  * * *

  “I could stay another night,” Charlotte said tentatively.

  Richard was driving. They were in an unmarked police car and he was driving Charlotte from the police station back to Adare, where her car was parked in the hotel car-park.

  No response.

  “It’d be nice to stay over in your new house. Like old times,” she said.

  “I don’t think so, Charlotte.”

  “It was just a suggestion.” She was taken aback at just how cold he sounded.

  “I liked that girl, you know,” Richard said, his knuckles white on the steering wheel.

  This would require careful handling. “It was an accident, Richard.”

  “Like Lavinia Horgan?”

  Oh fuck.

  She hadn’t expected that.

  “Lavinia?” She paused. “That girl you went out with years ago?”

  “You know exactly what I’m talking about, Charlotte.”

  He sounded angry. A shiver of unease ran through her.

  “Why are you bringing her up now?” Charlotte said, innocently. “What on earth has Lavinia Horgan got to do with anything?”

  She’d stay calm.

  With a screech of brakes, Richard came to a stop in t
he road, and indicating right, he pulled in to the hotel car-park. He slid into a space right next to her shiny new car. Unclasping his seat-belt, he turned to stare her. He stared hard. Charlotte’s heart was beating hard against her rib-cage. She felt alarmed. This was not the Richard she knew.

  “I’m going to ask you this, Charlotte… I’m going to ask you once and I want you to tell me the truth. The truth.” His voice was full of menace.

  “Of course, Richard. Ask away.” Her heart was beating wildly. She hadn’t expected this.

  “Did you have any hand, act, or part, in what happened to Lavinia Horgan?”

  She was amazed that he would even ask her that. Her eyes grew wide.

  “Richard, I can’t believe that you would even think that I –”

  “Fine,” he snapped. “Have it your way, Charlotte. So here’s the thing – I don’t believe you…” He shook his head slowly. “I don’t bloody believe you. I’ve always had my suspicions. I always wondered. I’d say to myself, don’t be so bloody daft, Richard. It’s far too crazy. Get a grip, man. But now…” he paused again, “now after hearing that cock and bull story back there, I have my answer.”

  “But, Richard –” Charlotte said, reaching out to touch his arm.

  “Enough, Charlotte! Why do you think I never told you about any other girls I dated after Lavinia? Why do you think I never told you about the police women I walked the beat with? I know you were concerned about me at that time and that was fine. But I was stupid and immature back then. I know I was a mess for a while. But after what happened to Lavinia I didn’t dare tell you I was interested in anyone else. I couldn’t risk it.”

  “But –”

  “Get out of the car, Charlotte. You have no idea what you’ve done. None. And you know what, Charlotte? That’s what scares me.” His face was stone.

  Stunned, Charlotte got out of the car. There was little else that she could do. She stood in the car-park, staring as her brother made a three-point turn and screeched off without looking back. Without even waving.

  She was shaking. She’d expected a few things. There was always the unforeseen – the unintended consequence. But she hadn’t expected a reaction like this. She’d miscalculated. Charlotte never usually miscalculated – not on a scale like this. She’d never seen Richard like that before. Cold and brittle with anger. He’d looked at her with such disgust and something else. There’d been something else as well. Something even stranger. It took her a while but then it came to her. It was fear. Fear? But Charlotte was his sister. He had a right to be a somewhat angry, she guessed. He was still confused. But surely Richard knew that Charlotte only wanted what was best for him? She could see what was best for him, even if he could not.

  She knew him so well. Much better than he knew her. Did he really think she’d never found out about those others after Lavinia? That she’d never known?

  Of course she had.

  * * *

  Back home in Galway, Mark was trying to be as supportive as he could. In his well-intentioned but cack-handed way. He was her husband, he loved her, and he would accept her story. He’d accept Charlotte’s account of what she’d done. He’d understand. He knew she was a good mother to his children. He would never to anything to harm that.

  Husbands stuck by their wives. Wives stuck by their husbands, and siblings looked out for one another. Through thick and thin, families stuck together. It was the way things should be, in Charlotte’s view. It was the natural order of things.

  Over the next fortnight, Charlotte listened to the radio, scanned the TV news channels, kept an eye on social media, and waited anxiously for news. The story hadn’t made the headlines.

  She wondered if they’d done an autopsy on Sarah’s body. Even if they had, there would be nothing there to incriminate her. Still, Charlotte was apprehensive. The prospect of any attention was unappealing. Over those two weeks she tried to distract herself with work and the kids.

  But Charlotte was finding things difficult. Neither Ruth nor Kathy were returning her calls. She’d lost count of how many voicemails she’d left them. They weren’t returning her texts either. She found little solace at work. It was routine as usual, as unchallenging as usual, and in no way provided a diversion or distraction. Things had started to go wrong at home as well. It was probably just in her head, but Charlotte began to feel that she was under siege.

  Tom had come to the conclusion that Charlotte was interfering between him and his air-head girlfriend. The increased family discord was untimely. Charlotte had enough to manage at the moment. Tom’s girlfriend had apparently alleged that Charlotte was not passing on any of her messages to Tom and also accused Charlotte of ignoring her as she drove by in her new car. What did the dizzy girl want her to do? Stop and offer her a ride? She was causing trouble just as Charlotte had predicted she would.

  There had been a particularly unpleasant night earlier that week at home in the kitchen. Rachel and Susie had overheard it all from the upstairs landing. Charlotte had heard them up there, whispering furtively. She’d been deeply shaken when all six-foot-three of her teenage son stood in front of her angrily and challenged her. He’d shouted at her. More upsettingly, Mark hadn’t intervened. Tom had said that if she was going to force him to choose between his girlfriend and her, he would choose his girlfriend over his mother. The girl was proving herself to be far more meddlesome than Charlotte had anticipated. Something would have to be done.

  However, what upset Charlotte most over the last two weeks, what was really burning her up, was that her brother Richard was still refusing to speak to her. He, too, was refusing to return any of her phone calls. Even when she’d phoned him at the police station.

  Eventually, she’d resorted to asking Mark to intervene on her behalf. Richard would talk to Mark. They’d always got along together. Richard would talk to Mark, man to man, and Mark would explain things to him. Mark would make it right between them.

  Charlotte had watched nervously from the sitting room window as Mark sat in the driveway in his car. He was talking to Richard on his mobile. That was always where Mark went to make his private calls. Charlotte didn’t want the kids to know that she’d had a difference of opinion with their Uncle Richard. She didn’t want her children taking sides. They loved their uncle and Charlotte didn’t want to do anything that might stain their loving family.

  Charlotte stood there, looking out through the vertical blinds. From a distance, she tried to gauge the mood and flow of conversation. Mark had shaken his head a few times, he’d run his hand through his hair, and then he’d leaned back, stretching, and raised an arm behind his head.

  Charlotte guessed that it must be Richard doing most of the talking. Mark was biting a thumbnail now. He looked serious. After what seemed like an age, Mark dropped his hand from his ear. The call was over. It was sorted. Mark had sorted things.

  But Mark just sat there. He sat in the car, doing nothing. Why was he not coming in? Her husband wore an expression she hadn’t seen before. What on earth was he doing just sitting there in the driveway? What was bothering him? He’d be in in a moment, she told herself. Not to worry, she’d soon find out.

  But Mark didn’t come in. He stayed in the driveway. She must have stayed there watching him for a full five minutes or more. Charlotte watched him as he placed two hands on the steering wheel and kept staring straight ahead at the garage door. He just stayed there, staring, for what seemed like a very long time.

  Charlotte broke out in goosebumps. Triggers of alarm started to go off in her head. And Charlotte suddenly felt afraid. Eventually, Mark opened the car door. She caught her breath and hurried back to the kitchen lest he figure out she’d been watching him.

  “Well?” she said carefully as he walked in to the kitchen.

  Mark shook his head. “I don’t know, Charlotte,” he said. He looked very troubled.

  This was serious. What had Richard said to Mark? Surely Richard had thawed out a little by now? He couldn’t remain angry
at Charlotte forever.

  “What did Richard say?” she asked.

  “He told me that there’s a memorial service for Sarah next week.” Mark avoided looking at her.

  “Really? I didn’t hear a thing.”

  Charlotte was surprised she hadn’t had a call from Ava or Penny Nugent. Perhaps there was something in the post-box. She hadn’t checked it yet.

  “And you won’t be hearing anything either, Charlotte,” said Mark, strangely. He sat down heavily.

  “Penny and Ava Nugent have made it very plain…” he paused, “… in fact, it is their express wish that you go nowhere near proceedings. They don’t want you anywhere near them, Charlotte. You’re not welcome.”

  Charlotte held on to the back of a kitchen chair. She took a very deep breath. She hadn’t expected that. That was a blow.

  “Do you know if Kathy and Ruth are going?” she asked, after a few moments.

  Mark nodded. “Richard has been on to them. They’ve both confirmed they’ll be there.”

  “I see.”

  “I tried, Charlotte.” Mark was shaking his head. “I tried to put your case. But I’m sorry. I’m sorry but Richard doesn’t want to talk to you. He’s really very angry. His promotion has fallen through and he feels that there’s a cloud of suspicion over him.” Mark stopped, hesitating. “I hate to say this to you… but he’s just said to me that as far as he’s concerned, he doesn’t have a sister.”

  Charlotte felt as if a cold blade of steel had pierced her flesh. She turned her back on Mark and steadied herself on the stainless steel of the kitchen sink.

  Neither of them said anything.

  Then after what seemed like an age, she heaved a deep sigh and croaked, “Call the kids down for their dinner, will you?”

  Mark got up from his chair, went out into the hallway and called up the stairs to the kids. This was too much for Charlotte to process all at once. She would get through dinner and think about it later. She’d come up with a plan to make things better. She always did.

 

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