A Place to Lie

by Rebecca Griffiths

  ‘You shouldn’t have underestimated yourself, children are most perceptive … your sister certainly was—’ Again, about to say more, Mrs Hooper scrunches her lips.

  ‘Do you remember Ellie’s funeral?’ Joanna looks out at the amorphous grey day going on beyond Pludd Cottage’s windows.

  ‘That was terrible.’ Mrs Hooper grips her knees with a grave intensity. ‘Terrible for you youngsters … especially after you’d found her like that.’

  ‘It was about as bad as it can get,’ Joanna says. ‘I don’t think a day’s gone by when I haven’t thought of Ellie.’ An image of Freddie and Ethan swim out to meet her, their faces distorted as though looking at them from underwater.

  ‘It certainly destroyed the little community that was here, so much suspicion – it’s never really gone away.’

  ‘Really? That’s awful. I remember the way the village rallied round, searching for Ellie into the night.’

  ‘Doubt they’d let you do that now,’ Mrs Hooper says tersely. ‘Probably destroyed any evidence that might have helped the police catch who did it.’

  ‘How did Liz and Ian cope, d’you think?’ Joanna’s mind wanders back to number twelve on that rundown Cinderglade estate.

  ‘Not sure they did,’ Mrs Hooper asserts. ‘Liz was a wreck … No one could reach her, and then, of course, she started hitting the bottle.’

  ‘I think she’s still drinking now.’

  They fall into a brooding silence.

  ‘I saw the vicar when I drove into the village yesterday,’ Joanna announces.

  ‘Have much to say to you, did he?’

  ‘Yes, I was coming to that.’

  ‘Oh .’ Mrs Hooper knits her fingers in her lap.

  ‘He mentioned Kyle Norris.’ Joanna blinks at her. ‘Said something about how upsetting it had been for Kyle. It was like he knew him, or something.’

  ‘And did he say anything else?’

  ‘Only that he thought you’d already told me. So , told me what, exactly?’ She hands the question over.

  ‘I did tell him – in light of what’s happened – that I’d have to tell you.’ Mrs Hooper seems reluctant.

  ‘Tell me what? You’re making me nervous.’

  ‘Okay.’ Mrs Hooper rubs her arms and stares at the peacock-patterned carpet. ‘Kyle is Amy’s son. He’s the reverend’s grandson.’

  ‘Amy’s son?’ Joanna repeats, trying to straighten the revelation out in her mind.

  ‘Yes, Amy’s son. And that’s not all.’

  ‘Go on,’ Joanna pushes.

  Mrs Hooper takes her time, tweaks the arrangement of roses Joanna brought and found a vase for. ‘His father is, um … his father’s Dean Fry,’ she says eventually.

  ‘What! ’ Joanna’s hands fly to her face. ‘I don’t believe this … I can’t take it in. He can’t be. But, yes,’ she gasps. ‘I suppose, seeing his photograph, it’s obvious. He’s the spitting image of him. This is incredible … this is just … s-so … incredible .’ She pauses, darts a look at Mrs Hooper. ‘But Kyle didn’t say anything to me when we spoke on the phone yesterday.’

  ‘You spoke to Kyle?’

  ‘Yes, I found him on Facebook … I felt terrible about what had happened, Carrie could’ve killed him.’ Joanna takes a breath. ‘And he was such a nice person, really understanding.’

  ‘The thing is, Jo, he wouldn’t have said anything. Kyle doesn’t know Dean’s his father – he doesn’t even know who Dean Fry is.’

  ‘What d’you mean, he doesn’t know who he is? How the hell did Amy keep that a secret?’

  ‘You knew about Amy’s mother, Cecilia, passing away a month or so after Ellie died, didn’t you?’

  ‘No, I didn’t. Oh, she died, did she?’ Joanna summons up the beautiful, pale-haired lady who used to look down from her high rectory window. ‘That’s sad.’

  ‘Amy was heartbroken. She was ever so close to her mother. And to top it all, she found herself five months pregnant.’

  ‘Poor Amy.’ Joanna stares at the red-hot logs collapsing in the grate.

  ‘Yes, it was a dreadful time,’ Mrs Hooper continues, ‘and so, with her mother gone, and Dean banished from the village – something she partly blamed her father for – there was nothing for her in Witchwood, so she went to live with her aunt in Cheltenham, Cecilia’s sister. The reverend put it about that Amy had gone away to college there.’

  ‘Did she ever come back?’ Joanna wants to know.

  ‘No, never. With the awful associations she had with the place, you can understand it.’

  ‘What, and nobody questioned her sudden disappearance?’

  ‘It was a plausible enough reason for her going, and by then, not many of the old villagers were left. There was a kind of mass exodus in the wake of Ellie’s murder – I’d have gone too, if I’d been able to afford it.’

  ‘D’you know what happened to Amy?’ Joanna asks.

  ‘Yes, things worked out all right for her in the end. While resigning herself to motherhood in Cheltenham, she happened to bump into her old boyfriend, Philip Norris. D’you remember him?’ Joanna shakes her head. ‘No, probably a bit before your time here. Anyway, he was a junior doctor at the hospital, and when he’d fully qualified, the three of them – he adopted little Kyle after he and Amy got married – moved to Cumbria.’

  ‘How come you know all this?’

  ‘Timothy told me. We’ve been friends for years. I first got to know him in his old diocese, long before I came here.’ Mrs Hooper skims her eyes to Joanna. ‘And, of course, I played the organ at St Oswald’s. We became especially close after Cecilia was first diagnosed, and he was very kind to me when my Derek was ill.’

  Mrs Hooper’s rather lengthy explanation puzzles Joanna, but she doesn’t comment, asking instead, ‘Do you know if Amy and this Philip guy ever told Kyle who his real father was?’

  ‘No, luvvie. They didn’t.’

  ‘So, Kyle thinks Philip Norris is his father, then?’

  ‘Yes.’ Mrs Hooper fidgets with her skirt. ‘Amy was determined to keep it a secret, made Timothy swear never to tell. I’m the only one who knows.’

  ‘Isn’t that a bit unfair on Kyle? Not knowing he’s adopted. Not knowing who his real father is.’

  ‘I’m sure Amy had her reasons. It’s what she wanted,’ Mrs Hooper answers. ‘And I’m sure Philip’s been a wonderful father to him, given him everything he needed.’

  ‘But don’t you think it’s strange that Kyle should be in that mini-mart with Carrie that night? Because in a roundabout way, there’s actually a connection here, isn’t there?’

  ‘It is a strange coincidence, isn’t it?’ Mrs Hooper, thoughtful from beneath her waves of snow-white hair.

  ‘I’ll say. So how long have you known it was Amy’s son who was involved that night?’

  ‘Not long. Timothy took ages to tell me. I’d been home from my sister’s for at least a month.’

  ‘So.’ Joanna stitches together everything she’s been told. ‘Dean’s got a son he knows nothing about, and Ian and Liz have a grandson.’ She rolls her eyes at the injustices.

  ‘No, they know nothing about Kyle, they know nothing of his existence. I’m only telling you because of what happened with Carrie.’ Mrs Hooper indicates to Joanna’s empty glass. ‘Would you like a top-up?’

  ‘No, thanks, I’m fine. You won’t know it,’ Joanna begins, ‘but Carrie shouted out Dean’s name in the shop the night she died.’

  ‘Really? How odd for her to be thinking of him after all this time.’ Mrs Hooper frowns. ‘But I suppose, if you say Kyle looks just like Dean did, that’s probably why. I’ve never seen the boy; Timothy’s only met him a handful of times, and that was when he was a little lad, long before they moved up north. He’s in touch with Amy, of course, but only the occasional phone call; there’s no love lost there, as I’ve said.’

  ‘That’s a shame,’ Joanna says, before bringing the conversation back to her sister. ‘The thing is, from what I’ve bee
n able to piece together so far, Carrie, for some reason, was convinced Dean had come for her – it’s why I wanted to talk to Liz. I need to find him, to ask him if he knows anything.’

  ‘Why would Dean know anything?’

  ‘Because something went on between them that made her think she needed to protect herself from him. And look—’ Joanna dives for her handbag, retrieves the dog-eared postcard. ‘I found this. Carrie meant to send it to me.’

  Mrs Hooper holds it aloft, peers at it through her reading glasses. ‘But you said she was getting her life together, that she was under the care of a mental health nurse at the hospital?’ Another frown. ‘This is so, so … frantic .’

  ‘Yes, her nurse said she’d been doing really well.’ Joanna steers clear of the other things Sue Fisher told her. ‘But then I think Carrie must have seen Dean – or Kyle, and thought it was Dean, because we now know they look so alike. But anyway, it’s what stopped her from going out.’

  ‘And in so doing, she stopped taking her medication?’ Mrs Hooper joins the dots. ‘But why would Carrie think Dean was after her? That’s absurd.’

  ‘That’s what I need to find out – I don’t know. It’s why I’ve got to find him. I’m not blaming him for anything; I just want to hear his side of things so I can understand why Carrie was so preoccupied with him.’

  ‘D’you think, and this is just an idea … ’ Mrs Hooper pauses. ‘That what preoccupied your sister were the tales she told about him?’

  ‘What ?’ Joanna pulls her mouth into a disbelieving O. ‘Tales? Are you saying she made those things up about Dean? That they were lies?’

  ‘If Carrie was convinced he’d come after her, it was probably because she was guilt-ridden – that she thought she deserved to be punished for blackening his name.’

  ‘I’ve not thought of it like that.’

  ‘That’s because you trusted her, like certain villagers and the police trusted her.’

  ‘I did, yes. Same as she did me,’ Joanna mumbles, thinking of the part she played and her own mendacities where Caroline was concerned.

  ‘You what, luvvie?’

  ‘Nothing.’ Joanna, fearful of opening up that can of worms. ‘It’s funny, but Mike always said Carrie had real trouble distinguishing fact from fiction.’

  ‘Did you never question her story?’

  ‘No, I didn’t. But I suppose I was too young to know what was really going on, wasn’t I?’

  ‘You were, and you were such a trusting little girl.’ Mrs Hooper smiles for a moment. ‘You know Dora had her doubts, don’t you?’

  ‘No. Did you?’

  Mrs Hooper pulls a face.

  ‘I feel sorry for Dean.’ Joanna leans down to stroke the prostrate Buttons. ‘He wasn’t that bad, was he?’

  ‘No, I don’t suppose so; just your typical teenager,’ Mrs Hooper says softly. ‘Although, leaving school without proper qualifications didn’t help; drifting from one low-paid job to another, petty crime, drugs … Until Liz and Ian brought him to Witchwood and gave him a say-so in the running of the pub.’

  ‘He got Carrie the job there. I was really envious at the time, but I suppose it was the worst thing for her.’

  ‘How so?’

  ‘She was so needy, craving attention – Dean’s attention. She was a troubled kid, a troubled adult – and Mum doing what she did didn’t help her either.’

  ‘You lived through it too,’ Mrs Hooper reminds her. ‘And you didn’t tell lies.’

  ‘I suppose,’ Joanna says, mindful of the contrary. ‘But it was different for me, though, wasn’t it?’

  ‘Was it? how?’

  ‘I didn’t have a massive crush on Dean Fry, and Mum didn’t blame me for Dad’s accident.’

  Mrs Hooper says nothing.

  ‘The trauma of us finding Ellie like that can’t have done Carrie any favours either. D’you think that’s why she was incapable of forging relationships or holding down a proper job?’

  ‘It could have been.’

  ‘Thank God for Dora. Who knows where Carrie would’ve ended up without the flat and the money she left her.’

  They take a moment to think about where it was that Caroline did end up.

  ‘It was you that Dora was fond of,’ Mrs Hooper says at last. ‘She left everything to Carrie because she was ashamed for doubting her about Dean.’

  ‘Even so, I’m grateful.’

  ‘You’re a good girl, Jo.’ Mrs Hooper returns the postcard she’s been holding. ‘There are those who would’ve resented her for that alone.’

  ‘Oh, hang on, I’ve got something that belongs to you.’ Returning the postcard of Ophelia to her bag, Joanna passes Mrs Hooper the snow globe.

  A gasp. ‘Ursula bought me this,’ she says, cradling it in her hands. ‘The Christmas before she died – I never thought I’d see it again. Wherever did you find it?’

  ‘In Carrie’s flat,’ Joanna explains.

  ‘Poor Dean, he took the blame for so much. I knew it wasn’t him stealing from villagers. I knew it was your sister.’ A faint squeak from the piano stool as Mrs Hooper adjusts herself. ‘Lots of things went missing that summer you girls were here. Small things, things you might just as well have mislaid yourself … I had a brooch disappear from a jacket at church after I’d seen Carrie looking at that book of Victorian photographs. It was my mother’s, a beautiful garnet, and the finest thing I owned. Well, the only thing, really, by that point – we’d had to sell off everything else of value.’

  ‘A garnet, you say?’ Joanna, remembering the brooch she found in London, the one she pinned to her own coat.

  ‘Yes, that’s right.’

  ‘I think I may have found that too. I thought it was Dora’s.’

  ‘Good grief, Carrie pinched that as well?’ Mrs Hooper drops a lozenge of a sigh. ‘She probably took Dora’s dagger, I often thought it … put it in Dean’s motorbike shed for the police to find … ooof.’ She exhales through her teeth.

  ‘Why would she do that?’

  ‘For the same reason she lied about what she saw him doing to Ellie. To cause mischief.’

  ‘It certainly caused that.’ Joanna grimaces.

  ‘The police thought it was the murder weapon, it’s why they held him in custody for so long.’

  ‘Must’ve been frightening for him. Were his fingerprints on it? Because they’d have been better off checking it for Carrie’s.’ Joanna, remembering how she burst in on her sister moments after she’d found the dagger in Dora’s wardrobe.

  ‘I think the police were more interested with the traces of blood it had on it, and anyway, I heard it had been wiped of any fingerprints.’

  ‘No fingerprints – bit suspicious, isn’t it? Someone must have handled it.’ Joanna takes a minute to consider the gravity of their discussion, then asks, ‘How did you know Carrie took your snow globe?’

  ‘I didn’t, not to start with.’ Mrs Hooper holds her precious, newly returned memento up to the light. ‘It dawned on me later, when I realised it disappeared the morning I was giving you a lesson, and Carrie was the only other person here.’

  ‘Why didn’t you tell the police? I mean, if you were so sure Dean wasn’t the one doing the thieving.’

  ‘Because it was convenient for me not to,’ Mrs Hooper admits, her eyes moist with tears. ‘I’m not proud of it, but now you’re a mother too, I’m hoping you’ll understand.’

  ‘Understand?’ Joanna, puzzled. ‘I’m sorry, I don’t think I do.’

  ‘With the police focused on Dean,’ she lowers her voice to a whisper even though they are the only ones here. ‘they weren’t concerned with Gordon, were they?’

  A shake of her head, still no clearer. ‘Gordon? Why would they be concerned with him?’ Joanna gets up to prod the fire with a poker.

  ‘Because of Ellie, and Gordon’s fondness for her. Because of the aspersions Ian Fry was casting.’

  ‘But Gordon and Ellie were sweet. She loved him. It wasn’t anything more than that, sure
ly?’ Joanna throws on a chunk of hazel.

  Mrs Hooper gives her a withering look. ‘That’s not how the village saw it. How Ian Fry saw it. Ellie reminded Gordon so much of Ursula, you see; you too, when you arrived that summer. He was so little when Ursula died, he missed her terribly, he still does; I don’t think he’s ever got over the shock.’ She rubs her nose. ‘There were those who made noises about his affections for you, but then you went back to London and the rumours stopped, so that was okay.’

  Joanna sits down on the couch again, looks out on the frostbitten garden, at the tables and feeders baffled with birds.

  ‘I had no idea about any of that,’ she says finally. ‘But if I’ve learnt anything in life, it’s that people do have a tendency to judge others by their own sordid standards.’

  ‘Don’t they just. And small communities like this are the worst.’

  ‘I’m sorry to bring it up again, but I can’t stop thinking about it.’

  ‘What’s that?’ Mrs Hooper looks at her.

  ‘About Carrie making up those things about Dean – because, if she did, they were pretty terrible lies. To accuse him of ill-treating Ellie like that, then saying he chased off after her … with what ended up happening … ’ Joanna pulls up short. ‘Yes, the police acquitted him of murder, but they couldn’t clear him of being abusive to Ellie, could they? And that’s ultimately why his family kicked him out … why the whole village turned against him. And knowing you’d caused all that by telling lies – it must’ve been a terrible burden for Carrie to live with.’ Joanna looks pensive. ‘No wonder Dean was still on her mind.’

  ‘Carrie certainly didn’t do the boy any favours, but what happened to him wasn’t all her fault. It was the narrow-mindedness of the village and the wretched gossipmongers who did for him. But,’ Mrs Hooper says, ‘he got out of Witchwood, didn’t he? I doubt the boy’s life’s been totally blighted.’

  ‘We can hope that’s been the case, but we don’t know for sure, do we?’ Joanna tucks a stray curl behind an ear. ‘I suppose that’s what that Jeffrey bloke at the rescue centre was on about. He said – and I know he meant Carrie – that people volunteer out of some need to redress the wrongs they’ve done.’ Joanna shares her thoughts although not all of them. Not the part she believes she played in her sister’s cold-hearted defamation of Dean, something that had nothing to do with making mischief as Mrs Hooper supposes, but everything to do with revenge.