by Ali Carter
The yoghurt and cream stiffened and, as I swirled the deep dark red coulis through the white mixture, I couldn’t shift my mind off the thought of blood. If only Hailey’s murder had been messy it would have made it so much easier to trace the truth. I put the fool in the fridge and went upstairs to have a wash.
I lay in the bath with the window open, listening to the birds having an early evening chirrup. Even on the hottest of days I like a bath. And as I let the warm water consume my salty skin I went over my cup of coffee with Archie. It was at the mention of Primrose’s maiden name when the atmosphere had changed and I wish I knew why.
My salty hair was one matted lump and as I covered it in conditioner and pulled my fingers through it several strands came loose in my hands. Strands of blonde hair just like the one they’d found on Hailey’s lampshade. The one with Archie and Primrose’s DNA on it.
The bath took in a great big gulp as I sat up and gripped my fingers round the roll-top edge. Could there be any possibility whatsoever that Primrose and Archie shared the same DNA?
I thought harder, my grip tightened and a huge smile swept across my clean face. Maybe, just maybe, they were half-siblings. And if so ‘their childhood kiss and cuddle’ will have forced Archie’s father to tell his eldest son the truth: the pretty girl he’s kissing is in fact his half-sister.
If this was true it made perfect sense why Archie would have rejected such a beautiful family friend. And if poor Primrose was and is ignorant to the scandal then she’d understandably be jealous of any girl with her claws into Archie.
I was still finding it incomprehensible that Archie would’ve set off the alarm for fear of one of his visitors being held accountable for Hailey’s death. Did he suspect foul play all along? If so, he clearly thought someone under his roof was capable of murder. This combined with the heady thought of illegitimacy was making it very hard for me to keep my rationale. More than ever I wanted Toby to bounce my idea off. But, there’s no use bemoaning him, he’d deserted the cause.
I had the maddening truism, ‘theories are no good without evidence to back them up’ ringing in my ears and if everyone else is convinced Hailey died of ‘a very rare type of kidney stones’, then my only saviour is finding something concrete that proves them all wrong.
I sat wrapped up in a towel, staring into the dressing-table mirror. I’d tempered my bouncy sea hair into a plait and put on my favourite underwear (of that which I brought with me) in the hopes it would do what it could to cheer me up.
If I was at home right now, and a large part of me wished I was, I’d walk straight out the front door and up to the trig point high on the Downs. The view from there stretches for miles over patchwork fields scattered with farm animals, the valleys give way to glimpses of the sea, and chalky headlands are there for me to drop my troubled thoughts over. This expanse nourishes my soul, it reminds me of the simple things in life and never fails to banish the creative turmoil in my head, sending me bouncing back home with a vigour to keep going.
Instead, here I was, staring out of Lucy’s spare-room window, Norfolk’s invisible horizon intensifying the loneliness of my thoughts.
Who would have believed my mother’s social surfing would result in a weekend where someone died? Mum’s bound to hear rumours on the grapevine, not much goes down it and slips her by. But, I don’t want to be the one who tells her first. It’s not that she’s a malicious gossip but Mum doesn’t always think of the consequences before opening her mouth, particularly within her bridge circle and they’re meeting tonight.
‘Nice dress Lucy,’ I said as I stepped outside to find her and Toby giggling on the bench. She smiled modestly and complimented me on mine.
‘I don’t often wear a frock,’ she said in her honest way. ‘But as it’s your last night I thought I’d make an effort.’
‘I think you both look lovely,’ said Toby. ‘Susie, a glass of wine?’
‘Yes please.’
‘We’ve been holding out for you to come downstairs,’ he grinned. ‘Lucy do you want some now?’
‘Nah, I’ll stick to the beer tonight.’
Toby poured the drinks as Lucy set the table and I got dinner on the go.
There was a buzz in the kitchen that cheered up my mood. Toby insisted on helping and I was glad to have him standing so close. He piled the samphire on a platter and as soon as I’d clarified the butter and added lemon he took charge of pouring it on top.
I shredded the slow-cooked beef while the wraps warmed up in the top oven. Toby’s tummy gave a great rumble of anticipation and Lucy laughed as I tapped him on the shoulder to say, ‘That’s a good sign.’
We sat in a trio with Toby at the head, and as soon as Lucy picked up on the process of layering shredded beef and spicy tomato chutney into a tortilla she joined in with great enthusiasm for a dish she couldn’t get her head around how on earth I knew how to make.
‘Shall I put some on your plate?’ I asked holding up a serving spoon full of samphire.
‘Always good to try something new,’ said Lucy with a sceptical look on her face.
‘You’ll love it,’ said Toby shovelling a forkful into his mouth.
‘What do you think?’ I smiled as Lucy put a strand in her mouth.
‘It’s okay,’ she said licking the salt off her lips. ‘But not as good as a tomato, which is the only vegetable I really eat.’
Toby finished the rest of Lucy’s samphire and I got up to clear the table. Half a bottle of white wine and one glass of red down and I had that happy slightly sloshed feeling, glad to be rid of completely coherent thought.
‘Jesus,’ said Lucy rushing to the door. ‘Why does this frigging cat have to bring me his conquests?’ She wrestled the bloody mouse out of Red-Rum’s jaws and stepped outside to chuck it away, him scampering after her wanting to play.
‘That was delicious,’ said Toby as I caught him filling up my glass, his eyes then following me to the fridge. It’s been some time since my last snog and I’d forgotten the warm glow one gets when mixing alcohol and attraction.
I put a fool on the table, which got a ‘I love this stuff,’ exclamation from Lucy as she sat back down with Red-Rum curled in her arms.
‘Did you make these as well Susie?’ she asked as Toby offered her an almond biscuit.
‘Afraid not, they came from a packet.’
‘Oh great, I don’t have to be polite then. Mind if I don’t eat it?’
‘I’ll have it,’ said Toby plucking the biscuit from her hand.
‘Where are you headed tomorrow?’ Lucy asked him as I savoured my mouthful of pudding.
‘I’ll be on my way home to the West Country.’
‘That’s a long way to go in one day.’
‘I’m planning to spend the night in Reading, which will break it up a bit.’
‘With friends?’ asked Lucy lowering Red-Rum off her knee.
‘Visiting my son.’
Good god, I almost choked. The fool was somewhere between my windpipe and nostrils attempting to come out as I struggled to get it down. Toby has a son. I can’t believe it.
‘That’s nice,’ said Lucy innocently. ‘How old is he?’
Toby’s eyes purposely (I’m sure) didn’t engage with mine although mine weren’t exactly attempting to engage with his. I felt completely miserable that he had a past he’d hidden – did he think I was too conventional to understand? I could feel the shock in my face tingling through my body and was for once very glad Lucy was impervious to the atmosphere.
‘He’ll be eleven tomorrow.’
‘Right little grown up,’ said Lucy. ‘What are you giving him?’
‘A remote-control helicopter.’
Typical, I thought, a spoiling present from an absent father. I took a huge gulp of red wine and, clearly grasping for an opportunity to engage, Toby rapidly filled my glass up again.
‘Oooh, isn’t he a lucky little chappy,’ said Lucy.
I could hardly bear to sit through the entir
ety of the conversation and by the time Toby got up to clear the bowls I was well on my way to Drunkdom.
Lucy announced there was ‘… a party at Rob’s place. He’s spent every evening this week preparing. You should come,’ and Toby turned from the sink, looked straight at my delirious eyes and said, ‘I’m going to duck out, don’t want to overdo it.’
‘Susie?’ asked Lucy.
‘That’s so kind but I won’t this time.’
‘Alright then, I’ll see you both in the morning. Well probably the afternoon.’ She gave us a cheeky look.
‘I’ll be leaving early,’ I said getting up to say my goodbyes. ‘Thank you very, very much Lucy, you’ve been such a great help to me and I’ve loved staying with you.’ I steadied myself with the table and then in a state of insobriety, I enveloped her in a hug.
When Toby got up and did the same, I couldn’t care less.
‘You’re both welcome here whenever you want,’ said Lucy and fled, taking a six-pack of lager rather than a coat.
Toby and I didn’t flinch as the ding of her bicycle bell sounded through the open door and jarred against the awkward silence between us.
I started to manically clear the table, unable to contain my upset as I clattered things into the sink. My shoulders were tense and I couldn’t think of a single civil thing I wanted to say. Toby had sat back down and I heard the glug of wine as he refilled his glass.
‘I’ve wanted to tell you about my son Susie. He’s called Tom, his mother named him after her father.’
‘Why didn’t you?’ I snapped while wiping the soap suds off my hands.
‘I don’t know. I didn’t want you to judge me before you knew me.’
‘I thought I did know you but obviously not.’ I tried hard not to sound cross but it was difficult. I was cross – having a son is a major part of knowing someone.
‘You do know me. I love my son, I really do, but he’s tarnished with the whoopsie brush and always will be.’
I was in no mood to be amused. I turned to the table and picked up my glass. There wasn’t nearly enough washing up to keep me busy for long.
‘Are you married?’ I asked sitting back down.
‘Heavens no. Tom’s mother and I never actually went out. We were good friends from university and made the mistake of sleeping together. Only once, but she got pregnant and neither of us agreed with abortion.’
‘Why didn’t you marry her?’
‘We were young, very young. I was a medical student and she was training to be a lawyer. I would have got married for Tom’s sake but Liz and I both wanted to give each other the chance of true love. Liz is a great woman and I knew all along she’d never want me for her husband.’
I wasn’t interested in knowing why not. If there’s more that Toby’s hidden from me I’m in no state to cope with hearing it right now. But, unfortunately, my silence prompted him to continue.
‘Liz is a career girl, a modern woman who wanted a househusband. I wasn’t willing to give up my job for her and neither of us was any good at compromise. It’s worked out for the best, it really has. She’s married a nice guy and Darren makes a great stepdad for Tom.’ Toby’s voice was calm and kind but it made no difference to how hurt I felt.
My head was beginning to throb. I would have understood if he’d told me about Tom earlier but springing it on me, this far into our friendship, shattered all the trust I thought we had. How dare he have concealed the truth at the same time as leading me on.
I ached with disappointment, having fallen for a gilded version of Dr Toby Cropper and allowing my imagination to run forward into a future together.
I looked up, Toby’s face was drooping like an old labrador’s. He was playing the helpless card. That way men have of shifting the blame as if they’ve done nothing wrong. Why is it they find it so difficult to reflect on their mistakes? All I needed was for him to say sorry…
‘You can ask me anything Susie and I’ll tell you. It’s not as complicated as you might think.’
It was his complication I was concerned about but I was exhausted by the thought of bearing a grudge. I’m not one for playing games and would always rather get to the bottom of things than tear through emotions and harm each other along the way.
‘I wish you’d told me earlier,’ I said with a slim hope he’d apologise and I could stop longing to put the words in his mouth.
But Toby said nothing. His eyes were fixated on a splinter in the table that his fingers began picking at.
‘I thought we had something good going on,’ I said.
‘We do.’ He looked up at last. ‘You’ve become a great friend.’
‘Friend?!’ I let slip by mistake.
Toby looked at me intently, ‘You mean to say it meant more?’
‘I thought, I hoped, it did.’ I blushed. Drink had got the better of my tongue and unashamed honesty was taking over. How I wished I could play it cool, not give him the pleasure of knowing how much I liked him. But I’d blown my cover and it was hopeless to attempt to back-track now.
‘You’ve hardly given me any signs in the whole time I’ve been here.’ He was now riled. ‘How was I supposed to know you wanted something to be going on between us?’
I was taken aback by this accusation. Was he completely clueless?
Toby pushed his wine glass to one side and fervently continued, ‘The only thing that has got a grip of your attention is Hailey’s death. Even with the case closed you can’t resist trying to dig it all up again.’
‘That’s unfair.’
‘No, it’s not. Every time I’ve tried to take you away from it or insisted you drop it you bring your little theories back into the centre of everything.’
‘Go on then, give me an example.’ His anger had quashed my heartache and I was all fired up to bat it back.
‘When isn’t there an example? Drawing the horses, it’s the only thing we talked about, going to the races you obsessed over that nice couple, visiting the museum filled you with theories and then today when you came back from coffee with Archie I tried not to bring it up but you just couldn’t resist.’
I stared into my glass. He was right, it was obvious now, but I was not in the mood to back down. The very thing that brought us together in the first place, investigating murder, was now tearing us apart. I’d been under the impression, until today, that we’d been equally invested in solving Hailey’s death, just as we were with Lord Greengrass’s. But, no, Toby had fooled me and he was now using my obsession with it against me.
‘Someone may have been murdered Toby and I was there. I can’t just drop it. To me that would be wrong and anyway it’s ridiculous to suggest it’s been my way of avoiding paying you attention.’
He took a slow sip from his glass, his eyes making no attempt to engage with me as I got up and left the room. I wasn’t going to have a petty argument and particularly not with drink inside me.
Red-Rum was on my pillow again and this time I made no attempt to move him. We curled up together, him purring in my ear, giving me the comfort I so desperately needed. I shut my eyes, too furious to cry and my teeth clenched at the realisation I’d thrown away my self-composure and now lost whatever it was Toby and I had.
My body was awash with alcohol. The room was spinning and my thoughts were in crazy disarray. I could feel my heavy head sinking into the pillow as I tried to overcome the dark cloud seeping through me. It was like a poison in my being.
A large part of me longed for Toby to knock on my door and when Red-Rum decided he wanted out I made sure Toby would hear and therefore know I was awake. But he never came and as I snuggled in between the bed sheets, wrapping myself in a cosy cocoon, my mind wavered and I drifted into thoughts of Hailey’s system collapsing under an excessively abnormal amount of calcium oxalate. This in its own way was a poison of sorts. Resulting in kidney stones, the reason given for her death but maybe, just maybe, it came from something else. This conundrum destroyed the last tiny ounce of energy left in me
and so drowsily I slipped into sleep.
I woke all of a sudden, with a furry mouth and no clue what the time was. I’d been out for the count, as good as dead, and the only sign several hours had passed was the daylight through the window.
I’d forgotten to draw my curtains, something I haven’t often done since giving in to my father’s will. When I was little he’d never let me wake to natural light, sneaking into my room when I’d fallen asleep and shutting out the night, as if he knew better.
I sat up in bed. Oh curses! Toby had an illegitimate son. My chest expanded as I furiously inhaled and with the exhalation of resentful breath my shoulders slumped.
It’s like Antonia Codrington had warned me, ‘If you go for an older man who’s still single, Susie, you have to be aware they might have a past.’
Hearing about Tom, by the sounds of things a happy child whose parents get on, shouldn’t have made me as angry as it did. The fact was it had taken me by surprise and I’d overreacted. I could love someone else’s child, I knew I could. I just wish Toby had been open about it from the beginning.
I gazed out the window and thought about it from little Tom’s point of view. Although it goes against my religion, maybe Toby and Liz had been fairer on him by giving each other the chance of finding true love. I have a friend who got his girlfriend pregnant at university and did what I thought at the time was the right thing to do, he married her. But they’re now unhappy, they’ve fallen out of love and it’s not nice to see.
I stretched for my telephone. My goodness! It’s only five o’clock. I looked down at the duvet knowing there’s no way I could go back to sleep. I may have softened to Toby’s domestic situation but as immature as it seems, even to me, I now more than ever wanted to solve Hailey’s death and prove him wrong.
My eyes were crusty and as I cleared their corners with my fingers a startlingly bright ray of sunshine came sparkling through the window, reflecting off the white sheets, blinding my sight.
