‘In plain sight,’ the senior detective said, before he left. Jason knew that, eventually, it would all be unravelled – the forensic teams picking apart what had happened up at the old cottage, how their father had kept his youngest daughter alive, barely, in the most horrific conditions. Breaking it to Claire that Lenni had been so close, right under their noses all this time was not going to be easy. He crushed the half-smoked cigarette under his foot and drove slowly back to Trevellin.
* * *
Three days later, after Lenni had gradually given more and more detailed descriptions to the police with the help of psychologists, the area around the derelict cottage was still sealed off. Forensic investigators swarmed up and down the hill to do their work, picking apart the remnants of several decades, photographing, bagging, labelling, removing, in order to piece everything back together in a way that might, by some miracle, make sense. The hopelessness was palpable, could be tasted on the sea breeze. It went unspoken that finding sense, of any kind, was unlikely.
Police worked tirelessly in the cottage and around the woodland, white-suited, delving in and out like maggots gorging on rot. The lead investigator informed them it could take weeks to analyse everything, to build a picture.
Bit by bit, the cellar beneath the old cottage on Trevellin Farm’s land – the cellar that Patrick had secretly soundproofed, shored up and converted over the years – was taken apart. Once or twice Claire went to watch from behind the twisted, flapping crime scene tape, but it was too much to bear, and she retreated to the farmhouse. From the window, as the forensic teams tramped through the courtyard carrying their findings, she tracked their comings and goings as they stowed the items in an ever-changing convoy of police vehicles. Then curiosity would draw her out. Staring into the back of the van, she saw a museum of individually bagged books, items of clothing, cutlery, DVDs, scraps of paper, rotten food, hair, teeth, excrement, shreds of unidentifiable substances and thousands of other miniscule samples of a secret existence. They’d taken out Patrick’s body in a bag at the end of the first day.
She couldn’t make any of what she saw fit with the man she knew as her father. If she thought too deeply about it, she threw up.
‘I could only manage a quick glance at him,’ Jason told Claire, when he’d returned from taking Shona to stay with Angus and Jenny. Their mother had needed to get away, but would return, she promised, when she felt stronger, when Lenni was allowed home. A half-empty bottle of wine sat on the kitchen table between them. ‘They’d cleaned him up a bit, but to see him lying there in the morgue, knowing what he’d fucking done…’
Claire held up her hands to signal him to stop. ‘I don’t want to know,’ she said, turning away. He’d already told her the hammer wounds on his head were horrific, the top of his skull caved in.
‘It must have been instant,’ he added. Silence hung between them, though they were thinking the same thing: how did a frail girl like Lenni wield a hammer against Patrick?
Earlier, Jason had ventured as close to the cottage as he could get. He wanted to see his father’s perspective on the many trips he must have made up there, going undetected, delivering supplies, deceiving Claire, Shona, conning the whole family – everyone – over the decades. Guilt cut through him that he hadn’t been around for most of that time. Would he have picked up on the signs, noticed any strange behaviour to unmask his father? Perhaps that was why he’d preferred to keep Jason at arm’s length, refusing to build bridges between them. He didn’t want him – a young, fit man with an interest in the cottage – working on the farm for a reason.
Standing as close to the building as he was allowed, breathing in the clean air of the coast mixed with the stench of what had happened, Jason tried to see it through different eyes. Had his father’s love for Lenni, his over-protectiveness of her, driven him to extremes? Or was he simply a sick fuck who had abused his youngest child over two decades? Try as he might, he couldn’t see it as anything other than the vile act it was. Nothing, but nothing, could justify what he’d done. He hoped Patrick rotted in hell. He was glad they’d never made up.
Apart from the bright, flickering police tape and the comings and goings of officers, the place looked pretty much as it had done since they were kids. Ivy had almost completely obscured two sides of the wrecked cottage, and a multitude of creatures and birds had made it their home – including, he reflected, his little sister. Above ground, there was no sign of the twenty-one-year secret it contained; not a hint of what the police had described as a feat of engineering for one man. What was left of the collapsing roof had sunk lower on bowing timbers, pressing down on the cracking stone walls, while the windows were being twisted from their frames. But below, the cellar was protected and intact.
Jason glanced down. Something caught his eye. Something glinting in the grass. He looked around before bending down to pick it up. It was a silver pendant, just a simple one – a sort of cross with a rounded head on a chain. He vaguely recognised it.
Had the police missed it, he wondered? Was it evidence? He knew he should hand it in, but the thought that it might belong to Lenni made him slip it in his pocket. He didn’t notice the tiny smear of fresh blood left behind on his fingers.
As Jason turned to go, an officer in a forensic suit emerged from the enclosure carrying equipment. He nodded briefly at Jason. The family had been told they could go inside the cellar when the investigating team had finished, but they’d already agreed they wouldn’t. The cottage would be demolished, flattened as if it never existed, and the basement filled in with the rubble. Shona wanted trees, she’d said. Something beautiful for the future owners. She was planning on instructing Jeff to get the ‘for sale’ board up, to get the entire property advertised at a knock-down price as soon as she was back from Angus and Jenny’s and felt able to take on a move.
Jason turned his back and walked away, his fingers clenched around the pendant.
Chapter Seventy-Six
Maggie planned on staying in Cornwall for a while longer, to support and be with Claire. There was practical work to be done too, helping prepare for Lenni’s return home and all the many other arrangements that had washed up like wreckage after a storm.
Since Rain had come back, she’d tried to keep her close, not wanting to let her out of her sight. Generally, she just lay on her bed or sat at the kitchen table staring at her phone, flicking through Facebook and Instagram, but one morning, when Maggie couldn’t find her in the usual places, her heart raced. She ran around the farmhouse, calling out her name, getting more and more frantic as the panic swelled.
‘Oh… there you are,’ she said breathlessly from the doorway, trying to sound casual. The last thing she wanted was for Rain to feel smothered. ‘What are you doing in here?’ Lenni’s room was the last place she thought she’d find her. ‘Are you OK, love?’
Rain was staring out of the window, her back to Maggie, gazing across the fields up towards the woods and the old cottage. She shrugged.
‘What are you thinking about?’ Maggie went up to her and put an arm around her shoulder.
‘Just stuff,’ she said, picking up a china elephant from the windowsill. ‘Is this hers? Lenni’s?’
Maggie nodded. ‘Shona kept everything in here just as it always was.’
Rain nodded, a tear rolling down her cheek. ‘It’s so sad,’ she said, sniffing, wrapping her fingers around the little ornament.
‘I know…’ Maggie said. ‘None of us can even begin to imagine what she went through, being trapped all those years.’
Rain slowly turned to face her mother. Her eyes narrowed, flickering in thought. ‘I can,’ she said. ‘You don’t have to be locked in a room to feel trapped.’ She let out a sigh.
Maggie gave a little nod, trying to understand. She wanted nothing more than to fold her daughter in her arms, beg her forgiveness. But she knew it wasn’t that simple. Instead, she gently pulled her closer.
‘It’s funny, you can feel trapped even though yo
u’re not really,’ Rain continued. ‘Like it’s become a habit, as if you can only see that one path, treading it over and over again.’ She paused a moment. ‘Sometimes, though, all it takes is a shove from someone else to help you find a way out.’ She leant forward on the windowsill to get a better view up the hill. ‘Or see a way out. Locked doors aren’t always real ones.’
‘OK,’ Maggie said slowly. ‘Go on…’
‘Mum, I’ve been throwing up,’ she said, keeping her eyes fixed out of the window. ‘For years. Nothing much stays in me. I’ve hated myself for so long. It was meant to be an escape, but it’s not. After what happened to me with…’ She broke off, choking back the sobs as she remembered what he did to her. ‘Well, it just keeps me even more imprisoned, even more out of control.’ Then the tears began to flow.
‘Oh, darling, I get that. I really do. You’re so brave.’
‘You know,’ she went on, ‘it took something like this,’ and she lifted up the little elephant, running her finger over its broken trunk, ‘to make me realise that with a little bit of courage, with a little bit of help from someone in the right place at the right time, we can all escape.’ She reached into her pocket and pulled out a tissue, blowing her nose, hoping her mum would make the connection. But she didn’t. ‘It’s like I’ve stepped outside of myself. Like Lenni, I feel set free. It’s scary but good.’
‘I think you’re an amazing and strong young woman and we’re going to get through this. Together.’ Maggie wrapped her up in her arms, holding her tightly. ‘I’ve been offered a job,’ she said after a few moments, feeling the time was right to tell Rain. ‘It’s at Aunty Rose’s hotel in the Cotswolds. Mum’s younger sister. It’s a beautiful place. If you like it there, we can live in. You’ll have your own room. There’s a good college nearby too.’
Rain watched her mother for a second, seeing the hope spread across her face. How could she destroy that? Some things were best left unsaid, connections left unmade, she decided. After all, in her own way, her mum had been trapped all this time too. She just hadn’t realised it.
‘I think I’d like that. A new start,’ Rain replied, gently placing the elephant back on the sill. ‘They never forget, do they, elephants?’
‘Apparently not.’
‘I’ll never forget either.’ She followed Maggie out, taking one last look back at Lenni’s room. ‘Never, ever,’ she said, about to close the door behind her. Instead, she decided to leave it wide open.
* * *
‘Cup of tea, love?’ Maggie said, when they were in the kitchen.
Rain managed a small smile. ‘Sure, thanks.’
It was a tiny start, Maggie thought, putting the kettle on. A gesture, a tiny piece of the bridge she knew needed building. Rain was beginning to open up, though she knew there was a long way to go. PC Wyndham’s words were still in her head, about something else having happened while Rain was missing. But surely, nothing short of murder could be worse than what she’d already been through?
‘Here you go, love,’ she said, handing her a mug. Russ came in, wagging his tail and sniffing around Rain. She gave him some fuss.
‘Thanks, Mum,’ she said, as Russ lay down at her feet. ‘I’m sorry I scared you. I know I shouldn’t have run away.’ Rain bowed her head. ‘It was my way of dealing with what happened that Saturday night…’ She stroked Russ again. ‘Wherever you go, your problems come too. I was running away from myself, not you.’
‘I hear you,’ Maggie said, thinking how she too had done similar things, running from one man to another, using relationships to plug the massive hole inside her. She felt like the worst mother in the world. It was time for things to change. ‘I can’t imagine the terror of what you went through with…’ She couldn’t bring herself to say the bastard’s name. She knew if she ever saw him again, she’d kill him. ‘But I’m here for you now, my darling. We’ll work through it together.’
Rain drank some tea. ‘I have a confession,’ she said. ‘I took that pendant you really love.’ She hung her head. ‘I saw it lying on your dressing table upstairs here, when I was getting ready to go out the other night. After Marcus told me about Lenni’s case, I googled it. Turns out she had a necklace that looked identical to yours. You know I love all that mystery stuff.’ Rain paused, waiting for a reaction. ‘It’s the necklace that inspired my tattoo. You wore it all the time last year. So weird, right?’ She hesitated. ‘Anyway, I was going to put it back, I swear, but then… Anyway, I must have lost it when I was sleeping rough. I’m so sorry, Mum. You know I don’t steal, least of all from you.’ Rain cupped the mug in her hands.
‘Oh, Rain, that pendant is the least of everything.’ Maggie came up to her, crouching down. ‘You’ve been through so much these last few days.’
She looked at Maggie, her unmade-up eyes young and fresh, yet tinged with a deep sadness. ‘Yeah,’ she whispered. ‘You have no idea.’
* * *
‘I can’t fucking stand it, Claire,’ Maggie said, while Rain was resting. ‘I can’t stand what he did to her being inside my head, let alone my daughter going through it. And she told me she’s always hated herself.’ Maggie made a noise halfway between a growl and a scream, blowing smoke out of the back door. The women shared a knowing look, each feeling the same raging hatred towards Callum. ‘Things like that don’t happen to people like us, Claire. Not fucking rape. Not my daughter!’ She knocked back the shot of whisky Claire had poured each of them. ‘I’ve been such a crap mother.’
‘Me too,’ Claire said. ‘When you think about it, I allowed my kids to live with a monster.’ She prised Maggie’s cigarette off her, taking a couple of drags. ‘Been a long time since I did that,’ she said. ‘But fuck it. Everything’s different now.’
‘Rain was screaming out for help in all kinds of ways, but I didn’t see the signs.’ Maggie took back her cigarette. ‘She got pretty obsessed with Lenni’s story; said something about drawing in the dirt on the back of your car. She apologised profusely. And she left her shorts to be found too, again to make everyone worry. As if we weren’t worried enough.’ Maggie pushed the cigarette butt into a nearby plant pot.
‘Ah,’ Claire said. ‘That explains a lot.’
‘I have an apology of my own to make, actually,’ Maggie said, as they came back inside. ‘When we were kids, I stole your necklace, the one you and Lenni were both given. I was so bloody jealous of you, and that necklace represented everything I didn’t have – a loving family and parents that cared, a sister.’ It felt good to be honest after all this time, Maggie thought. ‘I brought it down with me to return. I was going to leave it in your room, but it disappeared before I had a chance. Turns out Rain took it.’
‘Oh, Mags,’ Claire said, hugging her. ‘It’s OK. I don’t care about the stupid necklace. He gave them to us.’ A look swept over her face. She couldn’t call him Dad any more. ‘He said they were lucky, would keep us safe. Lenni broke hers, so she just kept the charm in her pocket. They found it along with her shorts.’
‘For what it’s worth, I’m truly sorry.’
‘No need. Our friendship has always been stronger than that.’ And way stronger than the lies Callum told about Maggie too. ‘I’ll miss you both when you’ve gone, you know. Despite being the worst reunion in history, it’s been good to see you, Mags.’
‘The Cotswolds isn’t far. We’ll visit often, and you must bring Marcus and Amy to stay.’
‘We will. Just the three of us,’ she added, locking up the back door.
Chapter Seventy-Seven
‘So, there was no cash buyer?’ Nick asked Claire. While Maggie was sticking close to Rain – they’d moved into the Old Stables and were upstairs playing with Amy – he was also staying on to support Claire.
‘Jeff was vague. Embarrassed at not checking him out properly, I think,’ she replied.
‘Have you heard how Shona’s doing today?’ Nick slid a plate of toast in front of her, aware she’d hardly eaten the last few days.
‘Angus said she’s still in a bad way, barely functioning. She’s going to stay on with them for a bit, until Lenni comes home. The doctor gave her some tablets, so she’s getting a bit of sleep now at least.’ She took a tiny bite of toast, feeling sick. ‘Mum’s always been a fighter, just got on with things. But this… it’s destroyed her. I can’t stand it, Nick.’
‘Nothing will ever be the same again, you know that. But don’t rush yourself.’
Claire nodded, thinking. ‘All I know is that we have to get rid of this place as soon as Mum’s up to it. The whole lot, including the Old Stables. I can’t live here knowing what my sick fuck of a husband did. And knowing how close Lenni was all this time, I just can’t take it in. It’s almost like I need more proof, something to convince me I’m not going mad. How can the two men I loved most in the world be so evil?’ She pushed away the toast, feeling the anger rising again. ‘There’s something I need to do, Nick, but I can’t do it alone. Will you come with me?’
He nodded, following her as she grabbed the keys and marched up the drive. He didn’t want to leave her side for a moment. Claire unlocked the house and went straight to her father’s study, tensing up as they went in, pausing as if she’d caught a whiff of him, perhaps seeking some kind of explanation. It was all about getting answers now, something to ease the turmoil in her mind, to bridge the gap between what she’d believed about her father and the grim reality.
‘Jeff told me he’d seen the damage at Galen Cottage and reported it to the police. The damage I’d done.’ She paused, running over that morning in her mind. ‘I need my job more than ever now, so I didn’t tell him it was me. The police went up there to check it out and found a pair of glasses in a case.’ Claire sighed, hesitating before dropping down onto the old sofa. It still smelt of him.
‘How’s that significant?’
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