“It’s none of your business. My legal dealings with clients have nothing to do with you,” Stoner said.
She saw the colour creep back into his face, painted there by rising fury.
“If you have all this proof, this knowledge, then why haven’t you taken any action?”
Lily shook her head, just once, and she tutted with a click of her tongue. “I told you, I waited until Charlotte was safe. But you need to know that I have taken action. I have left a letter with my solicitor. At the moment, he is simply holding it for me. But should I call him, then he has instructions to take it to the authorities.”
“Why are you here? Why you, why not the police? I’m not sure I believe you, Miss Bowers,” he spat her name at her. He was stronger by the minute. Used to dealing with underlings, with frightened, desperate people, used to being in charge. He was regaining his nerve.
“I am here to give you an opportunity to save yourself from what’s coming. It would be hard for all of us, not only the despicable creatures involved, but the innocents as well. We would all suffer. I want to help Terry. I want to make his life easier, to give him hope of a better future and if to do that I have to show you a way out, then I’m willing to make that sacrifice. He is my son’s brother after all, I have come to regard him affectionately, as my own boy, and you know mothers – mothers make sacrifices for their children.
“Now, either you can carry out Clive Robertson’s instructions, and sit in your fine office while the whole weight of the law and public opinion crush you.” She paused, caught her breath. “Or, you can retire. You can sign over the whole of the Robertson business to Terry, give him what is, after all, his birth right, and I will leave the letter where it is. I will take my knowledge, my evidence. I will take all of it with me to the grave. And for the avoidance of doubt, I do have more than this.” She indicated the baby things. “There is DNA evidence which, as you will know, is irrefutable.” She watched as he sank. She knew now for certain what Clive Robertson had told him during the final phone call, so, inadvertently, the old man had been instrumental in her success.
He pointed at her. “You, you’re the woman who went with Terry to the nursing home. He said that some old crone had been there. This… this is blackmail.”
All she needed to do was to nod.
He spoke again, “How do I know you’ll do what you say? How do I know that you’ll keep your word? How do I know Terry won’t say something? How do I know that I can trust either of you? He bullied his grandfather.” He stopped as Lily raised her eyes. “He was a sick man, very distressed when he called me. How do I know that I can trust anything that either of you say?”
“You don’t. Though he is rather keener than I am to avoid the furore. He finds the whole thing too painful. Why do you imagine he hasn’t spoken out yet, after all? And why would he now when things are beginning to improve for him? If he had a business to run, he would want to direct attention away from the nastier side of his history. Now that Clive is dead, he would prefer to simply get on with his life. Because of that, you won’t tell him I’ve been here. I don’t want to ruin our new and rather fragile relationship with this nastiness. I can help him through it if I need to, but I would prefer to see him happy and successful on his own terms.”
She slid to the front of the chair, bent and picked up her bags. Using the walking stick, which she was glad of now, she stood on her shaking legs, straightened her spine and before she turned to leave she spoke again, firm but quiet. “What you must know is this, if I don’t hear within the next two days that you have done as I ask, then the letter will go to the police, along with this.” She wagged the document carrier at him. “And you will be in… oh, now, what is that wonderful modern expression? Ah yes, you’ll be in a ‘world of hurt’.” She managed a small chuckle as she left him, red-faced and anxious behind the antique desk.
Chapter 52
Lily held herself together long enough to stalk through the front office and out into the road. Once around the corner she stopped and leaned against the pale stone wall. She pulled out her nitroglycerin spray and closed her eyes as she waited for the medication to take effect.
She could hear the buzz of traffic and the clomp of feet around her. The rumble of conversation, punctuated by shouts and squeals, faded into the distance and she felt herself begin to drift away.
“Are you alright, love?” There was the sudden weight of a hand on her arm, bringing her back. She opened her eyes to stare into the sun-wrinkled face peeking out from under a yellow hard hat.
He spoke again, “Are you okay, only you look a bit shook up? I saw you with your little inhaler thing.” He pointed down towards her hand which still gripped the spray bottle.
He cupped her elbow with his big, calloused hand, the rough skin of his fingers clicked on the fine fabric of her suit. He was steady and strong and she leaned on him as he helped her to one of the benches in the middle of the precinct.
“Now, do you want me to get you an ambulance?” He pulled out his mobile phone.
Lily shook her head. “No, there’s no need. I’ll be fine in a minute. Thank you so much.”
He smiled and plonked down on the seat beside her.
“You gave me a bit of a start then. I thought you were going to slide down that wall and land on the flags.” He laughed and she found herself smiling in response.
“Oh, it’s a nuisance, it’s just a silly condition. I’m not supposed to get het up.”
“Right, and have you?”
“Yes, I’m afraid I have. I’ve just been talking to a solicitor and it was quite – upsetting.”
“Ha, them blokes yes, well, I can imagine. But there, your colour’s coming back now. Are you feeling better?”
“I am, thank you, yes. I wonder, would you mind awfully just giving me a hand over to that little café? I think if I have a nice cup of tea, I’m sure I’ll be fine.”
“Come on, my lover.” He held out his thick arm and she leaned against him as they walked across the pavement. He pushed open the door, and ushered her inside.
“Thank you so much, you’ve been very kind.”
He gave her a final smile, a rather cheeky wink and admonished, “You take care now,” and he was gone, out through the door and into the crowd.
* * *
Journeys often seem shorter the more they are taken, but today it seemed that she would never reach home. The confrontation had taken far more out of her than she could ever have imagined it would, and she had no way of knowing what the eventual outcome would be.
She sat in an unhappy huddle on the train and dragged herself miserably through the Southsea streets as dusk fell. The rooms were chilly, she poured a large whisky and crawled up to the bedroom. She stripped off the new clothes which felt grubby and uncomfortable, and wrapped herself in a thick woollen dressing gown.
Replaying the events in her mind, at first she was filled with pride. She had faced the monster and she had seen him crumble. There was still the chance that he would ignore her, take the risk that she was bluffing. It was possible he wouldn’t change his life, give up his career and run away. But she had tried, she had done all that she could and though there was nothing more that she could think of, she had given everything she could to help Terry.
It was hard to rest after the stress of the long day, and the morning found her sick and exhausted.
She spent hours dosing fitfully in the chair in front of the fire. She knew she should call the doctor but couldn’t summon the energy. Eventually, mid-way through the afternoon, she managed to calm the clamour in her brain; she closed her eyes and gave herself up to whatever would come.
* * *
The ringing of her phone from the bottom of her bag roused her with a start.
“Lily. Hello. It’s Terry.”
“Hello.”
“Are you okay?”
She struggled to straighten in the chair and collect her addled wits. “Yes, I’m fine. I was having a nap.”
“No, it’s fine, really. I’m awake now and it’s time I erm…” The sentence fizzled because she couldn’t think of what she really wanted or needed to do.
“Are you sure? Only, to be honest I was pretty excited, and I just wanted to talk to someone. You’re the only one who knows about it all. So, I rang you.” She glanced at the clock, it was after five in the evening, the day had drifted past.
“Yes. I’m wide awake now. What’s happened?”
“Well, I don’t think I really know myself, to be honest. I’m still trying to process it, trying to get my thoughts in order.”
Chapter 53
As Terry gabbled at her in excitement, she was at first disbelieving, and then exultant. When the chatter from the other end quieted for a few seconds, she managed to ask, “So, let me be sure I understand you. Andrew Stoner has retired?”
“That’s what they told me. Through the girl I spoke to, well, woman I suppose – anyway, one of the junior partners.” He was still falling over his words with the thrill of what had happened and Lily grinned as she tried to make sense of it.
“She said that it had been a sudden decision, brought on, she thought, by the death of a close friend. Well we know who that is, don’t we? Anyway, he just said that he didn’t want to die at his desk and he was finishing. She called it unprofessional, and then corrected herself saying that there may be other reasons, such as ill health, that he didn’t want to reveal. She said they were in turmoil and trying to reach his clients and handle the outstanding issues as quickly as possible. Anyway, the upshot of all of it is, there is no-one else to take on the stuff in Clive’s will to do with my company.”
Lily smiled, already it was ‘his’ company.
He was still speaking, “It was so very specific, the will I mean, naming him, and precluding anyone else in the practice. I reckon that was so that if he had died, like you said might happen, nobody else could be running Clive’s business. He wouldn’t have wanted that. He wanted it to be bloody Stoner and if it wasn’t him, then it wouldn’t be the same – it wouldn’t make the point to me that he was trying to get across: that even though he’s dead, he’s in charge. Well he’s not – I’ve won Lily, I’ve bloody won! She was apologetic, can you believe it, she actually said that they were sorry. I don’t know how I managed to keep quiet. It’s brilliant. I wonder what’s wrong with him? I hope it’s something terrible. I know that’s probably not what I’m supposed to say, but the old sod deserves it.” At last he fell silent.
“Well it’s all a bit sudden, isn’t it, and wonderful of course. I am so pleased for you, I really am.”
When he spoke again he was quieter, “There is just one thing though. I know I said I’d come through and deal with those ashes, take you to bury them. Thing is, I think the next couple of weeks are going to be a bit frantic for me. I’ve got the funeral and then there’s a lot of meetings, plus the usual stuff with the business and sorting out Clive’s other stuff. I’m getting rid of everything. I did think of having people in to do it, but, to be honest, I dread to think what they might find. I’m probably being over cautious but, well, I reckon you know what I’m talking about.”
“So, what about all that? Is it over for you now, Terry? Are you letting it all go?”
“To be honest, I don’t know. It’ll never be over, not for me, but I’m coping with it. Never had much choice, did I? It’s a bit cowardly maybe, and a bit self-centred but I don’t think I’m going to do anything, for the time being at least. I’m keeping the company name and I don’t want to draw attention to anything like that. If those days, when I was left in the car, really were about him forcing himself on tenants or even on their kids, or God knows what else, I don’t want to poke the wasps’ nest. I’m still trying to decide. I’m worried that it’s just opening a can of worms and I don’t think I can face it. Things have started to go really well for me at long last, and I don’t want to rock the boat.”
She couldn’t help asking, “Do you think it’s possible that Stoner had anything to do with any of that? I mean, you said you thought Clive might have been forcing other people to have sex with him. Do you really think he was acting alone? I’m thinking about all the cases you hear about, read about, they seem to be groups and gangs, don’t they?”
“I know what you’re getting at, Lily. I have thought about it and what I will say is that, if ever what I know will help anyone else, then I will use it. Do you think that’s enough, or am I only thinking of myself?”
“At the end of the day all you can do is look after yourself, Terry. You just do that for now. I know that if anything else happens you’ll see what the right thing is and you’ll do it.”
“That’s a really nice thing to say. Look, I’m going to have to go, I’m meeting some mates. So, can we just leave it? I’ll give you a call, once things calm down a bit. We’ll arrange about the ashes. Be a couple of weeks I reckon. Is that okay?”
“You will keep in touch won’t you, Terry?”
“Yes, of course. But, well, I’m still in a bit of a tizz.”
Lily turned off the phone and laid it gently on the table. She was heartsore, it had become more and more obvious as the conversation had progressed: apart from the business with Peter’s ashes there was nothing more to keep them together. He would move on and make a success of his business, and the odd lesbian woman who lived in Southsea would never cross his mind. Not until she died – and she smiled to think of his surprise when he found out he had an inheritance from her. It was cold comfort.
She felt the tickle of tears across her face. She wiped them away, it was an ending and she was bereaved. It was a happy ending though, and she must just be glad of that.
So, the end was coming, just one more meeting when they visited his mother’s grave and then it would be done. There was another opportunity to see him now with all the worry gone; in charge of his own destiny. It would be a fine thing and there was nothing to stop her. Clive’s funeral was a public affair, and she had already told him that she was thinking of going. It wouldn’t seem so very strange, would it?
For a moment, she baulked at the idea, in the films and books she had read, the murderer often went to the victim’s funeral; didn’t the police hover at the edges of the group, noting who was there? And then she realised: it didn’t apply. She had, after all, got away with murder.
Chapter 54
The chapel was surprisingly full, Lily had become used to the funerals of her friends, her parents’ friends. Just a few bent old people sitting apart from each other in the front pews, or in wheelchairs in the aisles. Here there was quite a turnout, mostly men. There were few women, and the ones who had come obviously made one part of a couple.
Lily looked around for Terry. She couldn’t find him and wondered if in the end he had made a final rebellion. She stepped forward to find a seat near the back, and that was when she saw him. He had been hidden behind a pillar nearer to the waiting bier. He stepped across the front of the place to join a small group of young men seated in the first row of seats. As he lowered to the chair, the boy next to him reached out and laid a hand on his shoulder. Terry turned and smiled at him. She didn’t know how much his peers were aware of the troubles in his past, these young friends. Probably not at all, he had always insisted she was the only one who knew. So, they quite likely assumed he was mourning his grandfather, after all that was normal, natural. She saw him smile, he leaned a little towards the other young man and spoke quietly in his ear.
She had, for the first time, a genuine glimpse of the life he had made. She hadn’t given it a lot of thought but saw that, though it must be based on half-truths and hidden torment, he had built it himself. He had searched out a normality that his grandfather had been hellbent on denying him. She was happy that he had a chance to make it just what he had always wanted, what he deserved. It pleased her that she had helped towards that end, but at what cost? Her heart thudded painfully as sh
e thought of the events that had brought them to this place.
She would never be able to tell him and one of the reasons was, in the end, he wasn’t hers, he never had been. He had been Carol’s for a while but that poor broken girl hadn’t been able to protect him. What he was now, whole and strong with just the thread of damage running through him, a fault in the rock, he had done for himself. He had fought back and struggled on.
If she tried to become more to him than she was, then she would be a leech. She had lost the baby that hadn’t ever been hers to have anyway, she could not, must not, blight yet another life.
If Andrew Stoner decided to make trouble, or if he had alerted any of the others that she believed were involved in the filth of their past, then it could even now backfire and bring down trouble on them both.
Apart from all of that, and more importantly, there was what she had done at The Grange. It would ruin any relationship they might have. Despite all her efforts to put away the memory, that act was a part of her, followed her constantly, waiting until she let down her guard. She tried not to think of it, but at night, as she drifted into her uneasy sleep, the feel of Clive’s dying body, tense and threshing against her, would ghost into her consciousness to torment her. How could she spend time with Terry when there would be the spectre of his father, forever between them?
She would not be a part of his life. She would keep the things secret that he didn’t need to know. It surely could not harm him if it did not exist for him. The person who had stolen his childhood, and tried to control the best years of his adulthood, was gone. It was done.
She turned and tiptoed quietly towards the door. She was forced to stand aside as the attendants pushed the wheeled trolley bearing the coffin through the big doors. Music began and many of the mourners turned as she left. She was aware that he had seen her; he raised his hand, took a step forward. She shook her head and walked away. By the time she had reached the road, she was breathless and in pain, but she didn’t slow, she didn’t look back.
BONE BABY: chilling emotional suspense with a killer ending Page 18
