‘Daniel’s death was an accident. Martha is angry and rightly so, but it wasn’t your fault, it was one of those terrible things that happen. I’m sorry she dragged me into this. I shouldn’t have done it.’
I looked across the table at Cressida. Where was the woman I thought I’d known, a woman I’d laughed with, eaten with, talked to, a woman whose daughter I’d grown to love? A woman whose unknown act I’d uncovered. I felt nothing.
She wants absolution,I thought, sadly, she wants forgiveness and I can’t give it, because that would mean the words don’t count. The four little words on Martha’s cards. They did count, terribly.
The words she sent which ripped out my heart.
For once, Ginny had sat there silent, the intrepid reporter without any words. I’d traced my finger around each card, seeing the letters, spelling the words and taking them in. Knowing I’d never feel the same. Remembering thinking, ages ago, that nothing was worse than killing a child, that whatever they said, it couldn’t be worse. I had been wrong. Four little words that meant everything.
HE WAS YOUR SON
Chapter 97
Then – Miranda
She’d given the suggestion considerable thought and time had passed, but not too much, so when she woke up, she’d skipped her job along with her breakfast and hurried down Blackberry Close to see Ben. But his door was shut and the place had a silent, empty air which wasn’t typical. Hell, thought Miranda, perhaps I’m too late. She felt gutted.
‘Ben,’ she hollered, banging on the door. ‘Are you in there?’
Cath walked past on her way to the pub and nodded to Miranda. ‘You’ll have to shout a bit louder, love. He’s as deaf as a post when’s he’s making those things, I sometimes think he climbs inside them and has a quick kip.’ She winked at Miranda who smiled back, feebly, feeling guilty. Reg and Cath were related to Ben but she doubted he’d told them about his plans. She was just deciding whether to leave, when the door opened, slightly and Ben peered out.
‘Quick! Inside, and don’t argue.’
Miranda, puzzled, did as he said and was soon standing inside the workshop. The room was pitch black, there were no windows. Her eyes adjusted, very slowly.
‘I’m going to put the lamp on now, but you mustn’t scream, promise you won’t.’
‘Alright,’ said Miranda. ‘But why should I scream?’
The lamp flickered on, and with it came light, shapes emerged, familiar sights, the stacks of wood and the coffin lids, the long worn workbench and the door to the room which led to the tunnel. Ben reached out and gripped her arm. What was the matter?
‘Now through here.’ He led her slowly through the door, to the room beyond, gripping the lamp with his other hand. ‘Look at the floor.’
She did as he said, and would have screamed but he’d covered her mouth, almost stopped her breathing properly. Ben let go. ‘Oh my God.’
‘It’s Tanya Curtis.’
‘I can see that, Ben. Is she dead?’
‘Yes,’ said Ben, ‘and from what I’ve been able to see of her head, she’s had some kind of fracture, probably from a fall, or perhaps from being hit on the head very hard.’ He looked at Miranda.
‘It wasn’t you?’ said Miranda, faintly. The room retreated out of focus.
‘Of course it wasn’t, you stupid girl. I arrived this morning, a short while ago, and found her here, dead on my floor. God knows how he got her in here.’
‘He?’ said Miranda. ‘Who’s this he?’
‘The man who killed her or moved her body, I doubt a woman could have done it alone. Are you sure you’re feeling alright, Miranda?’
‘It’s just the shock of seeing her there. And she’s wearing my best red dress. My mother told me she’d given it to the jumble.’
‘I thought it looked a little familiar. Curtis worked for the church as a cleaner. She probably nicked the dress from the box, along with my silver, the thieving cow.’ Miranda said nothing. ‘You do believe I didn’t do it?’
‘Of course I do.’ Her voice was strong and as clear as a bell. But was she telling the truth? she wondered. He had a good motive, right enough. ‘How did the killer get in here?’
‘I’ve no idea. But whoever did it had a key, or knew a bit about picking locks. Of course, the spares are hanging up there. Whoever broke in before might have had them. I never heard a single thing. I was sleeping upstairs the whole damn night.’
‘Good God,’ said Miranda, feeling quite ill. Ben just sighed.
‘I need your help to move the body.’
‘Aren’t we going to tell the police?’
‘I’d have to explain I moved her in here. I found her in the main workroom. Then after that, the questions would start, it would all come out, the thefts, the shoes, your mother and Carol. Do you want that?’
‘No, of course I don’t. But that’s the price of doing bad things, you sometimes get caught. And now it’s gone and led to this.’
‘We don’t know that, we don’t why she ended up here. I know that selling that stuff wasn’t right, but it’s over now, for good, I promise. I’ve talked to Wetherby, he’s agreed, we’re all leaving, him and me and Mary-Ann, and you as well, if you want to come with us. You will, won’t you?’
‘Mary-Ann too?’ said Miranda, speechless. ‘The vicar’s daughter is running away?’
‘She’s going to marry Wetherby, Miranda. It’s what she wants, not a snow-white life as the vicar’s daughter, sorting the jumble and giving out soup in the school basement.’
‘It’s a kitchen,’ Miranda said, rather primly.
‘It’s a basement,’ said Ben, ‘or rather, a cellar, and Mary-Ann wants something better than that. A life that’s a little bit more exciting. She’ll certainly get that with Wetherby Eisen. So what’s it to be?’
Moving the body took quite some time. Ben had acquired an old hand cart which Eisen had used for shifting wood. He’d already carried it into the tunnel. Getting Tanya herself down the steps to the tunnel proved a little bit harder.
‘I think I can carry her down myself, if you can help me balance her first. Manoeuvre her onto my right shoulder.’
‘If I must,’ said Miranda, gritting her teeth, her hands were shaking, she was sick with nerves. ‘But I can’t be sure I won’t throw up.’
‘You’ll be fine,’ said Ben and he smiled with approval.
‘If you’d like to take her head for now. Yeah, great, that’s good, now just let go.’ Miranda did.
Miranda stared in horror at her hands. ‘Oh, God,’ she said, ‘I’m covered in blood.’
‘That’s down to me, I’m afraid,’ said Ben. ‘The wound had dried, but dragging her along the floor must have opened it.’ He put Tanya’s body on the ground again, ripping a piece off the hem of the dress. Miranda’s old dress. It tore easily.
‘Here, wipe your hands on this for now.’ He tore off some more and wiped the back of Tanya’s skull. ‘There, that should do it.’ Then he took the bloodied cloth off Miranda and dropped both pieces on the floor, kicking them over to the corner of the room. ‘I’ll make it up to you, later, Miranda. We weren’t the ones who did this, remember.’
But it all began because of the thefts. And can I be sure you’re telling the truth? She followed him carefully down the steps, once he was carrying Tanya again. For such a young woman, and as thin as she was, she seemed very heavy.
Miranda was trying not to burst into tears. They pushed the cart along the tunnel, Ben at the front, and Miranda behind, making their way towards the church. She thought about when they’d done this before, the time with Tom and the trunks of shoes, and it seemed so innocent, how had they got to where they were now?
Ben stopped when they finally reached the church.
‘We’re going to leave her in the passage, the one between the school and this tunnel. And before you ask, I’ve moved the shoes. I had to dump the rest, I’m afraid. The trunks are in the basement now, no-one will care, they’re completely empty. And I’ll fix the door
from each of the exits so no-one will know that Tanya’s in there.’
‘But the door from the basement leads straight to the passage.’
‘Not by the end of this evening it won’t. Wetherby’s going to put a false wall in, even some shelves to make it authentic. No-one will know there’s anything there. Or at least, not until we’re all long gone.’
‘You’ve told Eisen about the body!’
‘I had to, Miranda, I had to be sure nobody would find her. That way we know we’ll be safe for a while.’
‘How do you know he didn’t kill her?’
‘I don’t Miranda, I took it on trust. That’s what you do for friends, I reckon.’ Miranda said nothing.
The next few minutes were spent in silence, easing the body into the passage. The narrowness made it even more difficult and the lamp kept flickering and almost went out. Miranda swallowed and bit her lip. She thought how much lighter the shoes had been.
‘I think that’s as good as it gets, right now.’ Ben got to his feet, as much as he could in the very low tunnel. ‘This throw I’ve brought will do to cover her.’ Miranda said nothing and Ben frowned.
‘Don’t start losing your nerve, now, Miranda. You know I’d bring her back if I could.’
But would you, I wonder? Miranda considered. She unfastened the necklace from around her neck.
‘What are you doing?’ said Ben, curious.
‘I’m giving her a gift, it just feels right.’ She slipped the beads around Tanya’s neck. ‘We might not be able to bury her properly but at least we’ve shown her some respect. Louise won’t miss it.’
‘Who’s Louise?’ asked Ben, puzzled, but Miranda shook her head and sighed.
‘Never mind, that, I’ll tell you sometime. Now, can we go?’
They walked back up the tunnel slowly, each of them thinking separate thoughts. Then Ben spoke.
‘We’re meeting on Blackberry Close tonight, at the church near mine, around about midnight. You can come over after your shift, if you’re coming. But if you are, don’t bring much with you.’
‘Won’t you collect me?’ Miranda faltered.
‘I can’t, it’s too risky.’ He pulled her towards him. ‘I hope you’ll come with us, I want you beside me. Especially now you’ve proved your worth.’ He grinned at Miranda in the flickering light. ‘But a choice like this, it has to be yours, you’re giving up all the things you know, your home, your life, for a different future. But, in exchange,’ he paused and grinned, ‘you’d be getting an adventure.’
And I’d get you, Miranda thought. But what about her mother and Thomas? ‘What about Thomas?’ she said to Ben.
‘You know we can’t take him,’ Ben insisted, ‘much as I like him. He’s only a lad, and taking a boy would be too much trouble. We need to be free to do as we please, not always looking over our shoulder.’
‘We might be doing that anyway,’ Miranda told him, thinking of Tanya.
‘We’re not taking Tom,’ Ben repeated.
‘Where are we going?’ Miranda asked, not understanding she’d made up her mind.
‘I’m not that sure that it matters, to be honest, so long as we’re well away from here. Wetherby might have thought of somewhere.’
I know somewhere, Miranda thought, smiling inside as she thought it through. I know a place where we’ll never be found.
Chapter 98
Now – Aleph
‘I want Martha’s address,’ I said. ‘I need to talk this over with her.’
‘Martha and Len are leaving Leverhulme. Len’s the man she married, afterwards. I doubt they’d be there, even if I was to give you the address. It’s only rented, a temporary place.’
‘I suppose you won’t tell me where they’re going?’ I couldn’t help the bitter tone.
‘I asked Martha not to tell me. Just in case you asked me that.’ Cressida sounded rather regretful.
‘I still need her previous address.’
‘I thought you’d already written to her once.’
‘I did, just after Daniel died. But that was to a c/o address and according to you they’ve moved since then. And, I didn’t recognise the name.’
‘No, you wouldn’t have, Martha was married to Len by then.’
‘I’ll give you the address,’ said Ginny, suddenly. I watched her writing it down carefully.
‘Did you know who he was?’ I said. ‘Did you know that Daniel was mine?’
‘No,’ said Ginny. ‘I swear I didn’t.’ She looked unhappy. Cressida sat there, stony-faced.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I really am.’
‘Sure,’ I said. ‘Now that you know what it’s like to feel guilty.’ The time for saying sorry had passed. I grabbed my jacket and made for the hall.
‘Where are you going?’ said Cressida, sharply.
‘I’m going to find my son’s mother. Remember to close the door when you leave.’
She was right of course, the house was empty, almost abandoned. I walked right up to it, knocked on the door, but no-one was there, the house didn’t speak. Martha and I barely knew each other, we’d had a brief fling, years ago, before I met Gerry. A one night stand that had turned into a week’s celebration and then, after that, there was nothing but death. A lifetime’s tragedy for all concerned. I kicked at a stone.
I’d liked Martha, she was warm, effervescent, the life and soul, wherever she went, but I always felt she was holding back, and now I knew that was just how she was. After our week of love and fun, she announced one night she’d met someone else, someone more suitable, more appropriate. I guess that was Len. She never wrote later and said she was pregnant, how did I even know he was mine? But somehow, I did.
What a terrible thing.
The bungalow was modern and smart, it was just like all the others in the street and exactly the right kind of house for Martha, superficial and easy to care for. I wondered, briefly, if Len was like that. The neighbours next door couldn’t say where she’d gone, or even if she’d gone for good. I made my way down the path to the back and saw a low gate, it was through such a gate that the boy had escaped, my son, Daniel. It was still so hard to believe it was true.
If only Cressida hadn’t left the latch off. But I was the one who had driven the car.
By the time I got home, it was early evening and the house was empty, the guests had all gone. I sat alone at the kitchen table and stared at the shoe on the mantelpiece. A mystery solved and one more to go. Who was Mary-Ann Park’s killer? I couldn’t have cared less.
Then I heard the doorbell ring. I’d finally managed to fix the chime, and Alice, it seemed, intended to use it. My heart sank as I ushered her in, gesturing towards the living room, just for a change. Alice went in and straight to the window, peering out into the street beyond.
‘I’m not stopping,’ Alice told me. ‘I’ve come to tell you goodbye, actually.’ Her voice wobbled.
‘Goodbye?’ I questioned, disbelieving. I’d only just got to know Alice, got to like her, thought of her as a kind of daughter. A replacement for my missing boy. And now Cressida was taking her away. Well that was only to be expected.
‘Mum insisted I wasn’t to visit you, but that’s not the reason I’m saying goodbye.’ She left the window and came to sit down. I sat down too, in a chair facing her.
‘It’s because of what I did, you see. I never realised Danny was yours.’
‘Neither did I,’ I said, sadly.
‘Danny and I used to play together, I liked him a lot, even though he was so much younger. I thought of him as a younger brother, that’s why, when it happened, I just couldn’t speak.’
I nodded, slowly, trying to smile. She didn’t smile back.
‘On that Sunday, when I skipped Annerley’s, I wasn’t that far from Martha’s house when I spotted Danny across the road.’ She faltered, stopped and I nodded, encouraging. ‘Before I saw you.
‘I waved to Danny, surprised he was out and gestured to him to cross the street. I thought
we could walk back to Martha’s together. Danny always did what I told him to do, I wish now he hadn’t. I wish I had crossed the road to him.
‘Then, you know what happened. He stepped off the pavement and into the road, between the parked cars where you couldn’t see him. And then he started running towards me. There was nothing I could do, it was over before I’d realised what happened. I don’t suppose you remember I screamed?’
‘No,’ I said. I didn’t even remember the accident.
‘I saw that man, the elderly one, but I’m almost certain he didn’t see me. Then there was you, and him and the rest and the sirens started, they sounded like screaming, the screams in my head that just wouldn’t stop, so I turned around and ran away from it all, leaving Danny alone in the road. I was a coward.’ She looked at me.
‘So I won’t be coming to see you again.’ Her voice trembled.
Then Alice jumped up and ran for the door, brushing the tears from her face as she ran.
‘Alice, please wait, it wasn’t your fault, we need to sit down and talk this over. I was the one who was driving the car. Wait, Alice, please.’
I don’t know if she didn’t hear, or simply chose to ignore my words, but whichever it was she didn’t stop. I chased her down the steps to the street and round the corner to Scriveners Road. The street was crowded with eager tourists, blocking my way at every turn. I knew I’d never find her now.
Chapter 99
Then – Miranda
It was cold by the church, but Miranda was more than frozen inside, and that was what counted, the chill in her heart. She buried her face in Ben’s jacket. That way she wouldn’t have to look at his workshop. Miranda shivered.
‘The others should be here about now, I reckon.’
‘I couldn’t care less,’ Miranda told him. ‘I don’t think I care about anything now.’
‘You will,’ said Ben, ‘in time, you’ll forget. It’ll dull, you’ll see.’ She shrugged, indifferent.
The church in Curdizan Low was bleak, it was hardly used, and so unlike the vibrant abbey or even solid Curdizan Church. Miranda wondered if they were coming.
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