Kelly shivered. It was freezing in the mortuary, and she pushed her hands deep into her pockets as she watched Ted finish up. She was still standing in the same position as he washed down the slab with a hosepipe.
He looked at her.
‘Don’t you think it’s time to go, Kelly?’
‘I’ll wait for you. I need some hot coffee,’ she said.
‘What about something stronger?’ He always kept a nip in his office, but he was thinking about taking her out.
‘I’m on duty.’
‘Coffee it is, then.’
‘I’ll meet you outside. I can’t wait to hear all about why you’re so interested in my mother.’
Ted’s mouth fell open. Kelly walked out.
Chapter 48
They walked into town and found a quiet bar that served coffee.
‘Don’t you think that, with all the women living in Penrith – or the whole of Cumbria for that matter – you could have avoided my mother?’ Kelly asked.
They walked slowly; it was more of an amble. Kelly had dabbed more perfume on, but still couldn’t get the smell of the mortuary from her nostrils. Her skin felt chilly from the bowels of the hospital, and she knew she’d sleep badly tonight, even in Johnny’s arms.
‘I haven’t seen her in years, Kelly. Like I told you, I met her at Wasdale Hall. She’s very easy to talk to,’ he said. Kelly rolled her eyes.
‘And you met my father too. You already told me that. Why, when I asked you originally if you’d met my mother, did you say you couldn’t remember?’
‘Oh Kelly, I don’t know. Maybe it brought back memories. Does it bother you? It’s only a catch-up, and the odd meal here and there. Has she said anything?’
‘No. She doesn’t even know that I know yet. I saw you knocking on her door, taking her flowers. Seems a little over the top if you barely remembered the woman. And now you’re telling me it’s more than once. Are you seeing her, like properly, then?’
Ted stayed silent under Kelly’s interrogation.
‘Anyway, it really doesn’t matter what I think. My mother isn’t about to take relationship advice from me. God, she’d see more of you on purpose if I told her I didn’t approve. Listen to me! I sound just like my mother!’ she said.
They ordered drinks and took them to a table. Kelly kept her jacket on.
‘How do you work in the mortuary all day? I’m freezing.’
‘Well I don’t. I work in the lab, and I sit at my computer writing reports for more hours than I’d care to admit. It’s the basic science, Kelly. Since da Vinci’s first sketches of cadavers, men can’t help but be fascinated by what’s inside. The human body is extremely hard to kill, you know.’
‘I know.’ Kelly got to the point. ‘If it’s just the odd meal out, why did you avoid telling me about it?’
‘I didn’t avoid it. I don’t see very much of you, that’s all. Besides, I’m old, Kelly, I don’t go around announcing my social plans to just anyone.’
Kelly glared at him. He held her gaze but she knew he was uncomfortable.
‘Do you interview suspects like this? I’m sure it never takes you long to get a confession,’ he joked, but Kelly didn’t laugh.
‘So you find yourself in town, you get her address, when you could have asked me – all the while telling me snippets of a life that existed in a different time at Wasdale Hall, the place you met my mother – and you arrange to pop in for a friendly catch-up chat after, what? Forty years?’ she said.
Ted shifted in his seat. ‘Erm, well, I … yes, you could see it like that, Kelly, but not once did I evade the truth or purposely try to conceal anything.’ He coughed and looked away as he drained his whisky.
Kelly wrapped her cold fingers around her coffee cup.
‘If it really is a problem, then I’ll tell Wendy—’ he said.
‘Stop it,’ she said.
‘What?’ he asked.
‘Why do men do that?’
‘What?’ he repeated.
‘You turn everything round to women. When you feel cornered and on the defensive, you strike back even more venomously and make it sound like we’re the aggressor. I hate it,’ she said. The only man she’d ever met who didn’t do that was Johnny. ‘You’re behaving like a toddler, Ted Wallis. You’ll tell Wendy … Go on then. Tell her. Ask her why she didn’t bother telling me either while you’re at it. What are you two hiding? Did you have a love affair with my mother, Ted?’ There, it was out.
Ted got up from his seat and went to the bar. When he came back with another whisky, Kelly had her arms folded across the table.
‘Do you ever meet yourself coming backwards?’ he asked.
‘What?’ she asked.
‘Nothing gets past you, does it? But I’m afraid it’s not for me to divulge anything about your mother. I don’t know what her relationship was like with your father. I was there as a shoulder to cry on, on occasion, but I am not going to discuss her behind her back. I’ll leave it up to her what she tells you, but don’t push her, Kelly, not now.’
Kelly bit her lip. She could cause a fuss, she could sulk and demand an answer. Or she could be a grown-up, and accept that everybody made mistakes, even John and Wendy Porter. She could choose to leave it in the past. She didn’t divulge the details of every relationship she’d ever had, so why should she assume that her mother had to do so? She couldn’t.
‘I hope it doesn’t change our working relationship, Kelly. I would miss you terribly, and our little clandestine meetings in the public houses of Penrith and Carlisle,’ Ted said, attempting a smile.
‘Ah, Ted. Since I got back, a few things have caught me off guard, and they’re things I never expected. This is one of them. Of course it’s none of my business,’ she said. ‘And of course it won’t affect us. I thought I’d ask, though. I’m inquisitive like that.’
‘Oh, I know you bloody well are.’
Chapter 49
Kelly had spent the rest of their half-hour in the pub telling Ted about the contents of the earl’s safe. It would appear that Ted Wallis, as well as her own mother, knew more about the earl than they’d let on. She was desperate to challenge her mother, but she was also scared to. It was the thought of hearing something that she could never unhear that made her pause. Because the more she thought about it, the more she became convinced that there was a chance Ted Wallis was her biological father.
The photographs, the arguments, the void between her and Nikki and the need to get away because she felt different. It was too much to consider. Never before had she shied away from what was in front of her, yet she toyed with burying the whole thing right now, never to unearth it again.
But she was curious. Johnny had told her to follow her heart and not her head, because hearts told the truth.
As she drove towards the outskirts of Penrith, she called Will and told him that she was on her way back to Eden House but stuck in traffic. He was to meet her there with photographs of all the documents found inside the safe. He was also tasked with finding Dominic Cairns.
Identity. Everybody craved it, from an earl’s son to the daughter of a Penrith housewife.
She parked outside the small terrace where she’d grown up and turned off the engine, steeling herself for an unpleasant exchange. It wasn’t every day that a daughter demanded to know who her mother had slept with; it was usually the other way around. If push came to shove, she was prepared to stand her ground. No, she didn’t fit in, but that no longer need be a thorn in her side. Perhaps it was something that could be explained.
She thought back to the arguments between her parents, keeping both girls up long into the night when they should have been asleep. Kelly had assumed they’d been about John’s hours, or that age-old bugbear between married couples: money. But maybe they were about something else entirely.
She knocked on the door. Unlike Nikki, who still barged in on Mum whenever she liked, Kelly preferred to respect her privacy. She had a key, but she’d only use it in
an emergency. Wendy opened the door.
‘Kelly! How lovely. I was just telling Nikki that she should come and see you to tell you that she’s better.’
‘What?’
‘Nikki’s here. Come in! Why aren’t you at work? Day off?’
‘No, I came to talk to you, but if you’re busy, I’ll come back tonight.’
‘No you will not! Come in and tell me all about Wasdale Hall. Johnny told Nikki that you’ve been spending a lot of time there.’
Kelly rolled her eyes and stepped inside. Nikki sat in an armchair in the front room, smiling threateningly. Kelly stared at her.
‘Miraculous recovery?’
Nikki raised her middle finger.
‘Charming.’
‘You wouldn’t understand recovery from trauma if it hit you in the face, Kelly.’
‘And you wouldn’t recognise integrity if Mum served it on your chips.’ Kelly smiled.
‘What was that?’ Wendy shouted from the kitchen.
‘Hot boyfriend, wasted on you,’ Nikki said.
‘Isn’t he just?’ Kelly said.
Wendy came in. Nikki stood up. ‘Right, Mum, I’m off. I need to get my five miles in.’ She looked at Kelly. ‘Johnny’s idea. He said I’m fit but it will still be good for my energy.’
‘Isn’t that fantastic, Kelly?’ Wendy waited for a reply that never came. Kelly walked to the window and faced outwards, willing her sister to leave. For a moment, she wished so badly that she wasn’t related to her.
Wendy saw Nikki out, then came back, no doubt to admonish her other daughter. But to Kelly’s surprise, her mother’s expression wasn’t at all belligerent.
‘Now, what did you want to talk to me about?’
‘Ted Wallis.’ Kelly blurted it out without thinking, but it was for the best; she had no idea how else to do it.
‘Ah yes, your friend the coroner. He thinks very highly of you. I didn’t know you worked so closely with him.’ Wendy sat down with her cup of tea and closed her eyes. Her skin looked healthy and she appeared to have put some weight back on.
‘You don’t seem concerned about me knowing that you’ve been seeing him.’
‘Why would I be?’
‘Because you’ve kept it a secret.’
‘No I haven’t.’
‘You have! Why didn’t you tell me that he came here?’
‘Do I have to?’
Kelly was stuck. Of course Wendy didn’t have to tell her daughter anything about her private life. She tried a different approach.
‘How long have you known him?’
‘A long time.’
‘Did you have an affair with him?’
‘What?’ Wendy opened her eyes, but instead of the indignation that Kelly expected to see, she saw panic instead.
‘You met at Wasdale Hall. Did you have an affair with him?’
Wendy’s mouth opened and closed and the skin around her throat turned pink. Kelly felt mean-spirited. Her mother had been so happy when she’d turned up, and now she’d made her feel what she could only see as shame.
‘Did he tell you that? My God, you are close,’ Wendy said. Kelly wasn’t sure if she wanted to hear any more. She had enough to fit together a few more pieces of the puzzle.
‘No, he refused to tell me. You just did. Is he my father?’
Wendy put her hand to her chest, but it was a futile gesture: she wasn’t affronted at all, just caught out.
‘He is, isn’t he? Does he know?’
‘Kelly, now that isn’t fair. You have no right to come in here and accuse me of—’
‘Of what? Screwing around because you were unhappy with Dad? I don’t blame you for that! Christ, I’m glad that you had sex with more than one man.’
‘It was four, actually.’
‘What?’
‘Four men. There was one before your father, and one after he died. That makes four.’
‘Congratulations.’ Kelly didn’t know what else to say. She decided to head back to the office. In the doorway, she stopped and turned around.
‘That’s why I don’t fit in,’ she said. Tears welled in her eyes and Wendy softened. She stood up and went to her. ‘Oh, Kelly love. Your dad is your dad, plain and simple.’
‘Which one?’
Wendy put her hands over her eyes and sighed. She sat down and looked at her daughter squarely.
‘Tell me,’ Kelly said.
‘I never knew. I wanted it to be Ted’s. I wanted you to be Ted’s. I hated your father by then, Kelly. I’d had enough. Oh, we got through it all in the end, we stayed together like all good old robots do, and we planned to grow old as corpses, in our rabbit cages, never truly going after what we wanted.’
‘What do you think in your heart, Mum? Look at me. Look at my chin and my hair and my eyes, for God’s sake. What do you see?’
‘I see Ted.’
‘Does he know?’
‘No.’
Chapter 50
Jack Sentry left the Sunnyside Guest House and walked towards the steamer landing. It wasn’t his first outing since being in hiding and wanted by the police. He wore sunglasses, but then so did everyone else. The little room was stifling and the joy of fresh air was worth the risk. It had been the right decision, choosing Cheryl. But she wasn’t the pushover she’d once been. Gone was the timid little dot he’d first employed at the Peak’s Bay, all trembles and tears, willing to do anything for him; in her place was a sulky killjoy who daren’t let him out of her sight. She was jumpy as hell and wouldn’t let him near her. She’d also told the detective everything – well, almost everything.
He needed to get out of her room. He’d ventured out for the first time three days ago, and he was getting braver. His hair had grown quickly, and Cheryl had dyed it for him; it actually made him look younger. Where there’d once been a neat brown crop, dotted with substantial grey, there was now a shaggy blonde mess, and he liked it. Cheryl had also trimmed his beard. He’d been clean-shaven for most of his life, but he liked that too. He handed wads of cash over to her to keep her quiet. Like all women, she loved money; that was her language. It always had been. She went out on shopping trips and came back with trinkets; but most of it she saved, dreaming that one day she’d leave the hotel industry and make something of herself. Sentry had laughed inwardly at the thought. Annoyingly, she refused to have sex with him, and he couldn’t push it because he needed her. For now.
The previous times he’d ventured out, he’d been watching for signs of anyone looking at him a little too long, or acting nervously around him. He also looked for public appeals for his whereabouts. The fuss had died down, and he was in luck: no one paid him any attention at all, apart from a few middle-aged women who were probably just fantasising about a bit of rough. He’d swapped his Jack Wolfskin sweaters, his Crew trousers, and his Ted Baker loafers for casual shorts, flip-flops, and baggy jumpers. He looked like a mountain man rather than the proprietor of hotels and campsites.
He made his way the short distance to the jetty and bought a ticket for the steamer. It wasn’t crowded. He pretended to read a book. No one took any notice of him.
The steamer pulled away from the jetty and eased into the middle of Ullswater for the forty-minute journey to Glenridding, stopping halfway at Howtown. The lake was still – apart from the wake caused by the steamer itself – and the travellers were quiet, each busy in their own narrative, watching the water and the fells. For twenty minutes, Jack felt safe. Until they approached Howtown and he wished he’d hitched along the A592 instead.
Police cars were parked at the campsite, and it was clear that there was some activity there. He’d expected it, of course, but to come face to face with it was another matter. A few passengers got off, and several more got on. Jack buried his face in his book again, sitting with his back to the ramp. Soon they were off again, and he breathed a little easier. He’d left nothing for the police to find.
He was relieved when they finally docked at Glenridding, and h
e made his way quickly out of the car park, turning left onto the main road to Patterdale. He could do this every day of his life, until things died down and he could set up somewhere else. He needed a plan, and that took time. If it meant hiking the fells and lying low all summer, then so be it.
Cheryl had been mad at him last night when he’d come in soaking. She’d made him strip off his dripping gear in the tiny bedroom, and he’d hoped his luck was in, but she’d told him to fuck off, and demanded more cash. He was an easy lodger, and no one was any the wiser as to his presence. Cheryl looked after him, and brought him food and beer whenever he wanted it. But he was bored. Being outside was his only refuge, and so far, it was going well.
He walked past the White Lion, sticking to the line of the wall. There were few hikers about, and by the time he reached the bottom of the climb, he was totally alone. The gradient was steep, and he stopped to drink water and take off his jumper. His tan was coming on nicely and he reckoned that not even the nosy detective would recognise him now. He was getting stronger, too. He must have cleared a thousand feet in under half an hour, and he stopped to rest again. He was nearly there.
He’d taken loads of girls up here, with the promise of booze and drugs and a night of fun. Sometimes they stayed for several nights and still saw nobody. He’d found it by accident: an abandoned stone cottage, vacated long ago, tucked away out of sight just below the crag line. He marvelled at how, centuries ago, men must have hauled the stone up here to build it. It was probably originally intended for shepherds, to break their long shifts guarding their flocks from wild dogs and poachers. He imagined them with crude shotguns, looking for signs of trouble. The amenities were basic: there was a free-standing cooker, which looked as though it had been bought fifty years ago but still worked, and a table and chairs. There was no heating, but the lights still worked, so someone must pay for the electricity.
At the top of Place Fell, he’d still seen no one, and he breathed easily. Each step convinced him of his cleverness at evading the police. But at the back of his mind, he still wondered what he’d return to at the Sunnyside Guest House. He’d found a back route through hedges and gardens that led directly to Cheryl’s window, and she left it open if she was out. The space underneath it was covered in brambles; no one would venture round there unless they were breaking in, and no one would break in to a run-down, half-baked establishment like the Sunnyside. It had seen better days. He missed his time at the Peak’s Bay, with its white tablecloths, and snooty guests, and rich women wanting extra assistance.
Dead End Page 22
