BONE BABY: chilling emotional suspense with a killer ending

by Diane M Dickson

  When the answer came to her, Lily was surprised that it had taken so long. School had been the only place they had talked of often. The people, the occurrences, the daily trials and triumphs. That was where their happiness had been most untrammelled. Their closeness and their obvious kicking over the traces, their unhidden relationship, had made them special, infamous in a rather delicious way that they had never experienced again. Charlotte Mary had revelled in it. Yes, when the time came she would take what was left of her and leave her in the quad. There was a small area of shrubbery, a tiny fountain. That was where she would go.

  But then, Terry had wanted something of Peter to bury with his mother, something to take to a grave. The thought lurked on the sidelines, but she pushed it aside, struggled with it, knew that it would be her final undoing. But it would not be denied. She would need to be brave and accept that he would turn against her, so it would be a final act. Then she would be able to die, calm and at peace. Maybe, if she achieved something even better than she had first planned, more than just giving Peter back to his mother and to his brother, maybe that would be enough.

  She would wait until the proper time and then would make it all right. Better than right, she would do a good thing and it felt like the first really good thing that she had done for many years.

  On Wednesday, Terry called. “I was going to try and come and see you, Lily, but I won’t be able to make it this week after all. I just wanted to let you know, I have the kit now and tomorrow I am going to see Clive. I’m going to get the sample from him and then I will send it all away.”

  It was a disappointment, she wanted to see him again, but also, she had hoped that they would be further along with it than they were. When she had considered it, she had imagined the laboratory working on the samples, doing whatever it was they did to access the magic of DNA.

  “Oh, that’s fine. Terry, do you have any idea when you might come?” She didn’t want to drive him away with her neediness, but hadn’t been able to hold her tongue. “Just so that I can be sure to be here,” she said.

  “Yes, Monday. I’ll come on Monday. Maybe we could go out to lunch. Would you be able to do that, do you think? Have you time?”

  “That would be lovely.” She smiled, a true and genuine smile that reached her eyes.

  Chapter 29

  It had been a long time since Lily had gone out to eat. Charlotte Mary refused to be seen in public after she lost her hair.

  She would book a table, but nowhere too busy. Eventually she decided on a small place, a Victorian villa, converted and recently refurbished. She looked at the reviews online and it seemed to promise good food, good service, and would not be buzzing with children and thumping music. She booked a table and sorted a clean skirt and sweater from the dowdy depths of her wardrobe.

  Terry was late. There wasn’t time for conversation, and they scuttled from the house minutes after he arrived. He wondered if they should drive. Lily told him that, no, she would be fine provided they didn’t walk too quickly.

  The restaurant was clean and warm, the food was good, and they shared a half-bottle of wine. Lily enjoyed herself more than she had for an age. They discussed the weather, the traffic, politics, in a superficial way, and she relaxed and enjoyed his company. It was like coming back to life.

  Once they were back at her home she made coffee, not the instant sort that they had drunk before, but freshly ground beans she had bought in preparation.

  She fussed with the pot and cups, gave him a chance to broach the subject that filled the air between them. In the end, it fell to Lily to make the first move. “How is it going Terry, with the tests?”

  He nodded, relieved. “Okay, I went to the nursing home. Clive was having a good day as it happened. I had some business things to discuss. I had to wait until he was asleep. The lab sent me a thing like a cotton bud, and it had to go into his mouth, rubbed on his cheek. I had no way to ask him to do that. I just couldn’t come up with any sort of reason. Anyway, when he was asleep, snoring his head off actually, I was able to do it fairly easily. He has drugs of course and once he’s out of it, well, he is completely out of it. I reckon you could do just about anything with him then. I cut a couple of his fingernails as well. They gave me options so I thought I’d do both. I sent it all away and now I’m just waiting. I’ve asked for paternal and maternal testing. I sent them the hair, Peter’s hair. It was still in the bag that you put it in. I thought that was best. I suppose it was because it was so old, but it didn’t really look like the pictures on the instruction leaflets. The ends were odd, clumpy somehow.”

  Lily delivered the answer that she had prepared on the day that she gave him the sample. “I didn’t do it. It was Charlotte, after he died. She just wanted to keep it. I hope it will be alright.”

  He shrugged. “If it’s not I suppose they’ll come back to me and then, well, we’ve always got the ashes. Did you have much of a funeral for him? I don’t suppose you could, under the circumstances. Poor little thing, not even that.”

  She shook her head and looked away. She didn’t want to lie to him anymore.

  After a minute, he continued, “I sent them Mum’s old toothbrush, and her hairbrush. I told them she was dead. I’ve spoken to them, told them the baby and the mother are both dead. To be honest they didn’t ask that many questions. They charge a small fortune, and you have to pay up front, so I think mainly they just want your money. Anyway, that’s what I’ve done.” He stopped and laughed quietly. “A bit disgusting that Mum’s stuff was still in the cupboard, but she had her own bathroom and I’ve sort of left it alone. Her rooms are closed up. I don’t go in there much at all. It’s all a bit pathetic really – miserable. He could have done much better for her, but she never asked him for much.”

  “Was he violent with her?”

  “Huh, what you mean apart from the fact that he made her have sex with him? Sorry, sorry that was uncalled for. If you mean did he hit her? Well, not as far as I know. Not that I ever saw. But she feared him, she tried to keep out of his way. I would get mad with her, when I was younger. I didn’t understand. He shouted a lot and I wanted her to stand up for us, she never did. I needed her to do it because of what he was doing to me. But I couldn’t tell her and yet, I wanted her to protect me. Well, she couldn’t, could she? My gran used to ignore him, they hardly spoke. I thought everyone’s family was like that, until later, when I was more independent and had friends that I visited. Once I was older, bigger than him, I used to ask him for money, clothes, stuff like that. He didn’t argue with me anymore then. He started to treat me better. It was too late though, far too late. No matter what he did, he couldn’t make up for the past.”

  “Terry, did you never think about reporting him, or at least facing him with it? What he’d done to you?”

  “No. Once it was over, when I was about thirteen, he backed off. I was relieved. Every week when he didn’t…” He shrugged, unable to say out loud what had been done. He tried again, “Every week that went by, when I’d been left alone, was a bonus. But it was a long time before I could believe that it was over. I thought that if I faced him with it, it might all start again. Like poking at a wasp’s nest. Then, when I was big enough to be sure that I could stop him, I didn’t need to mention it, not outright. Once I wasn’t a kid anymore he tried to win me over, gave me things, brought me into the business but, no, we didn’t talk about it. Of course, I didn’t know the whole story about Mum. I just thought he was mean to her, a bully. If I’d known, If I’d had any idea about how bad it all was, things would have been very different. Anyway, she was ill when she told me. She knew she was dying. He’d had the stroke, I suppose she waited until she felt safe.”

  He squeezed at his eyes with his fingertips, coughed. “Poor Mum, she never grew too big for him, did she? Anyway, she told me about the abuse. But then, much later when she told me she’d had a baby that had been adopted, I never put two and two together. I was still pretty young and you don’t want to hear thi
ngs like that, about your mum I mean. She didn’t tell me that much, I suppose it was just too painful for her to go into all the details. That would have been the time for me to confess, to tell her about me. But I couldn’t give her even more pain, and it wouldn’t have changed things.

  “He went straight to the nursing home from the hospital. Then, not long afterwards, Mum died. He and I just slipped into the sort of relationship that we have now. I see him about once a month, he signs papers, leases and suchlike and that’s it.”

  “So, it’s still his business?”

  Terry nodded. “I did try at one stage to take control, have him sign over a power of attorney, but it went nowhere. He’s got a solicitor who’s worked for him as long as I can remember and he was obstructive. Accused me of money-grabbing and what have you. It just didn’t seem worth struggling with to be honest. I was enjoying my life, so it all just drifted along. On my own, no more worries.”

  “No girlfriend then? Or boyfriend?”

  “No, I’ve had a couple of relationships, girls.” He grinned at her, a fleeting brightness. “But they never went anywhere.”

  For a minute, there was silence, not comfortable but stuffy with things not said, questions unasked. Lily was afraid of driving him away, of being too inquisitive. She spoke first though, “What’s the next step then? I mean once you have the results and if they are what we think. If he is Peter’s father, exactly what will you do?”

  “I’ll go and face him with it. I’ll tell him what I know, show him the receipt, the results from the lab, and let him know that I’m going to the police. I’ll tell him that I’m reporting what he did to me for years, me and Mum. If I have the proof, even if he denies it, it doesn’t alter the fact that he forced me to do the things he did, and that he had sex with his own daughter. I just want to see his face. I want to see his fear.” He was wringing his hands now.

  Lily leaned and stilled them by briefly laying her own on top of them. “Does it scare you, Terry?”

  “Yes, a bit. After all this time. But it’s so that I can live with myself. I’ll do it. It’s scares me, yes, but I’ll do it.”

  “Is there anything I can do? Anything at all that I can do to help?”

  He didn’t answer for a long time and Lily thought she had overstepped the mark, pushed too much. But eventually, he rubbed his hands together and spoke quietly, “Well, maybe there is something. Would you come with me?”

  She whispered, “To the nursing home?”

  “Yes. You know about it already, you’re the only person who does. Would you come with me if the results are what we expect?”

  She didn’t hesitate. It was exactly what she had wanted. “Yes. I will. I will come with you.”

  Chapter 30

  Two weeks passed. Lily called the solicitor and made an appointment to update her will. It had to be done now that she owned everything. She had intended to leave it all to Charlotte Mary’s cousin, but now, with this new young man in her life, she was rethinking – was there something for Terry? Something to ensure that in the years to come he wouldn’t forget her. But then she realised that there was no need. He wouldn’t forget her. When he knew the whole truth, she didn’t think he would ever forget her and it didn’t appear that he needed her money.

  The night before the appointment with Mr Barnstable, she sat at the desk and spent a long time with the letter. It had to be clear, the why of it all. No excuses, just reasons, simple and concise. Eventually she was happy with it. She sealed the envelope and wrote Terry’s name on the front. With a bit of luck there would be time to speak to him in person but, just in case, she now had a safety net.

  Another task accomplished. Still the days dragged on. With failing strength and the narrowing of her world, it was difficult to fill them. She visited the neighbours, more to make the time pass more quickly than from any real sense of friendship. All the while that Sandra chattered on, about the garden, the church, the weather, Lily’s thoughts were in Bath, or in the basement, or in contemplation of the darkness to come.

  Eventually the call came. “Lily, it’s me, Terry. I’ve got the results. Shall I come to your home or do you want me to tell you now?”

  She bit back her impatience. He had obviously realised that she might want to savour this. It was too big to pass in a moment on the phone, so he had offered the choice. “Please, will you come, Terry?”

  “This afternoon?”

  “Yes. Please.”

  When the phone call was finished, she went into the cellar. “It’s time, Peter. It’s time. This is the last stretch.” She felt too excited to sit still.

  She had a shower, changed her clothes, and tidied the rooms. The morning crawled by. Her heart pounded and she took some of the calming tablets, but only half the dose. It would be no good if she was drowsy and befuddled.

  At last there was the rattle of the gate. Terry passed in front of the bay without glancing up, and then was lost from sight as he entered the porch. She was stepping over a threshold, she must hold her nerve now. The next few minutes would decide how her end would come, maybe even where she would be. The thought both terrified and thrilled her.

  * * *

  There was no pretence that this was a pleasant social visit. It was business and hard business at that. Terry carried a brown envelope. Lily ushered him into the dining room where there was room for them to sit together at the large table. Space for the sheets of paper.

  He slapped the documents onto the shining wood and slid them towards her. His face gave nothing away. ‘Stony’, that was the way she would have described it.

  “You’ve read it?”

  “I have. There’s quite a lot of technical stuff. I hadn’t really expected that. When you see it on the television they show you one piece of paper. I think it’s mostly to make you feel that you got value for money. As it turns out there is one that has the conclusion on. I put it on the top, but if you want to read the other stuff, it’s fine.”

  Lily shook her head, she didn’t expect to understand, and it wouldn’t change anything. She tipped the envelope, slid her hand inside to pull out the sheaf of printed sheets. She closed her eyes for a moment. Terry was quiet beside her. How had it been for him? Had he torn it open with desperate fingers or made the moment last as she was doing? Later they could talk about all of that.

  The text was clear. It was easy to understand. Her hands began to shake as she read the conclusion over twice, and then looked at him. His face was still a blank.

  Lily murmured into the quiet room, “So...”

  “Yes. I know they always have to put it in those terms, they can never say absolutely, covering their backsides, but there we have it. Clive, my grandfather, is Peter’s father, and my mum was his mum, Peter’s mum.”

  His voice deserted him, neither of them knew what to say. How very odd it was. They had known this, both of them. They had never really had any doubt, and now on this quiet afternoon they were overwhelmed with emotion because they had been right.

  Terry coughed. “There’s more, Lily. There’s something else I have to tell you.” He was ashen, all the colour had drained from his face. The pink in his cheeks, the result of his walk from the seafront, was obliterated.

  “More?”

  “The lab has done another test.”

  Lily’s heart thundered. He had realised that the sample she had given him was newly harvested, from a long-dead child. He had mentioned the strange appearance of it. Maybe the lab had been in contact about it. She flopped onto the dining chair.

  “I hadn’t ever thought of this, Lily. I was probably being stupid. But with everything, well, I should have seen.” He closed his eyes, drew in a breath.

  Chapter 31

  Lily couldn’t look at him, she couldn’t bear to see the disgust in his face, the flicker of hate maybe, in his eyes. Already her mind was forming excuses, reasons, more lies. She forced herself to concentrate, to listen to his words.

  He was speaking quietly, his eyes fixed
on their hands clasped together on the table top. “I imagine that you might have already thought of this, Lily, and I wonder why you never suggested it, but then, you’re kind, so…”

  His words were not making sense, ‘kind’ was not how she saw herself. How could he think her anything but evil? She’d had his brother buried without marker or recognition in the dark sadness of her basement. She had let him die to protect herself, that was how she had cared for a helpless child, and he thought her kind!

  “Anyway, I sent them my finger nails.” He couldn’t go on. When Lily looked up she saw despair in his face, the sadness of betrayal.

  “I always believed her. Why wouldn’t I? She was my mum. I never imagined anything other than I was told. When you came to me with this stuff, at first it didn’t even occur to me, then as time went on I didn’t have a lot of choice. I wasn’t sure right up to when I sent the stuff off.” He struggled for control. “In the end, though, I knew I had no other option.” He pushed his hand into the pocket of his leather jacket. He placed another piece of paper on the table. It was face down, and as Lily turned it over and began to read, Terry stood abruptly and stormed across the room to stare out of the window into the back garden.

  “Oh, Terry.” Lily laid the paper aside and went to stand beside him. She took his hand and turned him towards her. “Terry, I hadn’t thought of this. You told me your history and I never questioned it. Terry, this, this…” She pointed towards the table. “This doesn’t matter, it doesn’t make you anything other than you have always been.”

  “Doesn’t make any difference! Lily, I don’t even know if there’s a name for what I am. A bastard, yes, but I was always that, that didn’t matter, it’s true. But my grandfather’s bastard, with my mum, his own daughter. What the hell does that make me? I don’t even know if there is a name for what we are to each other.” He snatched his hand away and fled from the room. She saw him moments later, out in her garden, pacing back and forth, kicking at the lawn edging.