But then he’d chicken out. He was scared of what she would think of him, terrified that she’d leave him and take the boys. That she wouldn’t be able to live with his secret and tell the police. Or that she would tell one of her two sisters. Tanya was extremely close to them. But Lara and Ruth had never warmed to him. ‘You got her pregnant on purpose,’ Lara had accused him. ‘You knew she’s too good for you.’ Their feelings hadn’t changed despite the years and his attempts to mollify them. Lara and Ruth wouldn’t keep his secret. Even if they knew it would hurt Tanya. It wasn’t their fault really, they were just big blabbermouths. Within minutes the whole street would know and then word would spread like wildfire.
He must have dozed off. There was a cold hand on his arm. ‘Ma’am, please don’t touch the prisoner.’ The voice was loud, booming in his ears, hurting his head. With difficulty he opened his eyes and for seconds everything looked fuzzy. Then he managed to focus on her face, her eyes squinted in worry, her brow furrowed, her lips set in a thin line.
‘You’re awake!’ He caught a glimpse of the tears coming out of the corners of her eyes. ‘I thought I’d have to leave before you woke up.’ She smiled weakly and threw herself on top of him, hugging him fiercely.
‘Ma’am, please don’t touch the prisoner or we’ll have to escort you out.’
He felt her grasp loosen and she straightened up. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and gave him a half-smile. ‘How are you feeling?’
Ronnie shrugged. The movement sent shocks of pain throughout his body. ‘OK, I guess. The doctors said I’m doing better than expected.’ With effort he smiled, wanting to reassure her. ‘How are the boys?’
She paused and Ronnie could see that she was struggling to put words together, to decide what to tell him. ‘They’re OK. Scared, confused. They’re with Lara right now.’
‘Do they know what’s happening?’
‘I wanted you to tell them, but couldn’t keep things from them any longer. They kept asking about you, wondering why you hadn’t come back home, why the police had come to get you. I had to tell them. They don’t really want to believe any of this. In their eyes you can do nothing wrong.’
It felt as if someone had reached in and was squeezing Ronnie’s aching heart. He had let down the people he loved most and now they were suffering because of him.
45
The room was cold. She was sitting on a hard chair. There was nobody else there and yet she felt as if she was being watched. She turned her head, trying to take in her surroundings. But it was dark. It reminded her of those long minutes in the van, before she was rescued.
The sound of a latch being lifted startled her. She looked round, but couldn’t place where the noise was coming from, couldn’t see the door. She started getting more and more panicked. She closed her eyes, trying to focus.
When Sandra opened her eyes again, her bed was soaked in sweat. Her whole body was trembling, not because of the temperature. She was terrified. Sheer fear engulfed her. Her head was throbbing from the whirring in her brain and she felt as if she were going in a spiral down a pit from which there was no way out.
The morning had been a blur. Mondays were always busier than usual. She’d gone through the motions, dropping the children off at school, popping into the supermarket, clearing up the mess left over from breakfast, starting to fold the two loads of laundry that she hadn’t got to last night. Her head had been throbbing, the backs of her eyes pulsating painfully. Despite the list of things she’d still had to get to, she’d decided to lie down, close her eyes for a few minutes. It had been a long time since she’d crawled into bed in the middle of the day and as she’d pulled the covers back, Sandra had felt a pang of guilt. But she’d been beyond caring. Anyway, nobody had to know and she’d only lay in bed for a few minutes, until the painkillers she’d taken started working.
But even as she’d closed her eyes, her mind had kept going back to Miriam. Would she talk? Had she already talked? How much danger were they in?
Without even thinking she sat up and picked up her phone and opened the browser, searching for the nursing home number. Her heart beat faster and faster with every moment that passed.
‘Hello,’ the cheerful voice almost startled her and for a second she was about to hang up, say she’d called a wrong number.
But then she squared her shoulders and swallowed the lump in her throat. ‘Good morning, I’m calling to enquire about Miriam Lancing. I came to visit her recently and she was doing quite poorly. I’ve been so worried. Haven’t been able to stop thinking about her.’
She stopped, afraid of rambling on, raising the alarm that all was not as it appeared. The line crackled ominously as Sandra waited.
‘Of course you were,’ the woman said. ‘Let me put you through to her nurses. Goodbye now.’
There was a click and jovial music streamed through the phone. Sandra closed her eyes and tried to enjoy the sound, allow herself to relax, force her heart to stop beating as fast.
‘Hello.’ The voice startled Sandra. ‘Who am I talking to?’
‘Oh, hi. It’s Sandra Sullivan. I came to visit Miriam a week last Friday. I’ve been so worried about her, wanted to check whether she’s doing any better.’
‘Oh, yeah, I remember you. It’s Cheryl, we talked last time. Well, we’re not really supposed to give information about residents, especially over the phone. But Miriam doesn’t have any family and I can imagine it’s difficult for you to drop everything and come visit.’
She paused and Sandra held her breath. ‘We’re so delighted with Miriam’s progress. She’s improving by leaps and bounds. We removed the tube two days ago and she’s talking again. She’s still heavily medicated, sleeps most of the day, but at least we’re seeing improvement.’
Tears started forming in Sandra’s eyes and she shut them tight. She bit into her lip so hard that she tasted blood. ‘Oh, that’s amazing news,’ she finally forced herself to say. ‘Hopefully she will continue doing better and there will be no setbacks.’
‘We certainly hope so. Of course, the moment they heard that the tube was out the police wasted no time to come visit. But thankfully she was asleep so we were able to send them away. I’m sure they’ll be back before long. Hopefully this time they’ll tread carefully.’
*
‘Are you going out? Again?’ Louis sounded irate. He had come home early to find Sandra rushing round the kitchen, chopping vegetables.
Feeling her face turn red, she looked down, staring at the red pepper she was julienning, careful not to nick her fingers with the extra-sharp knife. ‘I told you last night.’ Looking back at her husband, she forced a smile. ‘I’m meeting Bea, Helen and John. We want to talk about the meetings we’ve been having with the police. It’s getting a little out of hand; DCI Hawkins keeps calling us and expecting us to go see him at a moment’s notice.’
Louis grumbled something under his breath. She was about to ask him to repeat what he’d said, but realised she didn’t have the energy to argue. ‘Rachel will be here shortly,’ she said instead. ‘Julia’s already eaten and I’m making beef stew for you and the kids.’
‘Yeah, OK.’ He started walking away. ‘I thought we could have dinner together, that’s why I made an effort to leave early.’
‘I’m sorry,’ she said. Insisting that she’d told him about her plans would serve no purpose. It was better to let him mope for a little bit. He’d get over it. Instead, she turned her attention back to the dish, working fast while keeping an eye on Julia, who was sitting on the sofa watching an episode of Topsy and Tim.
An hour later, she took off her apron and rushed upstairs to touch up her make-up and brush her hair. Any guilt she felt at leaving her family to go out was surpassed by anxiety. John was supposed to get the keys to the house and look for the container. And she had to tell the others what she’d found out. There was no way she’d skip tonight’s meeting. Not even Louis’ disapproving expression would make her change her plans
.
46
The day dragged. Every few minutes Bea would look at the clock on her computer and realise that very little time had passed. She couldn’t concentrate, her thoughts constantly wavering away from the work she was supposed to be doing. She’d been reading the same document for what seemed like hours and still could not really understand what it was saying.
She’d managed to keep busy over the weekend, visiting the Stones, spending time with Sophia. It was a breath of fresh air, allowing her to focus on something else and not constantly worry about the investigation and what Miriam might say.
Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to start reading again, word by word, trying to let it soak in. But it was pointless. Her thoughts were all over the place. She logged out of her computer, pushed her chair back, and headed towards the kitchen. The coffee pot was empty. She sighed. Nobody ever made a new pot, they just waited for her to do it for them. She always did and by the time she came back for a second cup it would be gone. They were like vultures, constantly circling, ready to pounce.
Still, she needed the distraction. She busied herself with the filters and ground beans, putting everything in place and pacing the kitchen as the machine got to work. The aroma of coffee filled the room and allowed her to relax for a moment.
Leaning against the counter, she wondered whether John had got the keys yet. He was planning to head to the house as soon as he could and rummage around in the sandpit, trying to find the container. Despite agreeing that such information should only be imparted in person and there shouldn’t be an electronic trail of what they were doing, waiting until she could meet the others this evening was harder than she had anticipated.
Back at her desk, she sat down and leaned back in her chair, warming her hands around the hot mug, not yet ready to get back to work. Her thoughts drifted to Helen and she wondered whether she had met with Dr Burns. She was worried about her, and how rattled she’d seemed. She’d have thought it would have been Sandra who would lose her nerve and to stumble during the questioning. Helen had seemed so strong, so tenacious, and yet, as soon as things started getting tough, she began to crumble.
She tried not to think about Helen’s revelation. She was angry that her friend would share their secret, put them in danger of being found out. It was irresponsible and Bea was scared that it would be their undoing.
Hours later, Bea packed up her bag. It had been a waste of a day, her thoughts keeping her from being productive. She should have stayed home, slept in, done some work in the flat. It needed a good clean anyway; everything was a mess.
Picking up her phone, she called an Uber, unwilling to face the Tube during rush hour just two weeks before Christmas. It got too crowded and she was not in the mood to be jostled by cheery crowds on their way to a party. She was certainly not in a jolly mood. Tonight they were going to find out whether their future was safe. Whether they even had a future.
*
The Uber let Bea out in front of John’s building and she wrapped her coat around her and rushed up to the door, trying to keep the chill out. Ringing the bell, she shifted her weight from one leg to the other while she waited to be buzzed in. Once upstairs, she noticed that the door was ajar. Pushing it open, she saw the others at the end of the long corridor, standing in the living room, and walked in.
Sandra’s hair flew in a perfect arch round her face as she turned around. ‘She woke up and they removed the tube. Any moment she’ll tell them what we did,’ she said before Bea had even reached the group.
‘What? Who woke up?’ Even as she asked the question, Bea knew exactly what Sandra meant.
‘Miriam. I called the nursing home this morning. I needed to know what was happening.’
Bea turned to look at the others. John’s mouth was firmly shut, his eyes filled with worry. Helen was cowering in the corner, biting at the skin around her nails, looking terrified.
John cleared his throat. ‘Well, I, on the other hand, have good news and bad news. The good news is that I’ve found it.’ He walked towards the kitchen and opened a cupboard from where he took out a thick plastic box, putting it down on the counter and opening the top. They all milled around it and peeked inside at the unmistakable red Tupperware, its colour faded after all these years.
‘So, what’s the bad news?’ Helen asked.
John pursed his lips. ‘It was open. And the plastic bags with the powder had disintegrated, perhaps eaten away by animals. There were a few rat carcasses, so that might have been it.’
He paused and Bea could see his Adam’s apple bob up and down. ‘The point is that the powder is mixed in with the sand. At least that’s what I suspect. I’m not an expert.’
‘What does that mean?’ Sandra’s eyes were wide open, a terrified look on her face. ‘That there’s still evidence?’
‘Yes, I guess so.’ John rubbed a hand over his face. Bea noticed the stubble. He was normally clean-shaven and perfectly groomed. Not today. The stress had got to him as well. ‘I’ll have to dig it out, get rid of the sand, clean it properly. It’s not a small job.’
‘Wasn’t it something that you were going to do anyway?’ Helen asked.
‘Yes, but not this early. It would have been part of the landscaping project. I don’t even know what I’m going to do with the house, let alone how I’m going to landscape the garden.’
‘So, what are you saying?’ Helen’s voice was high-pitched. ‘That you’re leaving it there?’
‘I don’t know yet. I leave on a business trip tomorrow evening and won’t be back until the end of the week. I can’t do anything until then. And then it’s Christmas. There’s no way I’m going to find someone for a last-minute job at this time of year.’
‘Haven’t you heard what I said?’ Sandra’s voice was shrill. ‘She’s awake. Any moment she can start talking. And what with her ex-boyfriend knowing…’ Sandra gesticulated towards Helen ‘… we can’t take that risk.’
‘Please feel free to make a suggestion.’ John’s voice was unusually rough. ‘I’m out of ideas at this point.’
47
The rest of the week seemed interminable. Bea buried herself in work, getting to the office early and leaving late, stopping at the pub for a couple of hours, drinking until the worry started to subside. The weekend was at least a little more cheerful. She went to the Stones and spent time with Sophia, sitting next to her, talking about the baby, planning for the upcoming shower. Gemma had decorated the house for the holidays; every nook and cranny was covered in ribbon and baubles. It looked festive and Bea tried to smile but deep inside she was feeling anything but jolly.
Still, her mood took a further dip when she found a voicemail from DCI Hawkins as she got to work on Monday morning, asking her to ring his office to make an appointment. He needed to see her again.
Not even bothering to remove her coat, she picked up her phone and called him. Her hand was trembling as she wrapped her fingers tightly around the receiver. There was a dull pain in her chest as she waited to be put through to him.
‘Hello, Miss Hinds, how are you?’ His voice sounded jovial, not like that of someone who’d just discovered a big secret. ‘I was hoping to meet up with you today. Do you have any free time?’
She clicked open her calendar and looked at the meetings scheduled. ‘It’s a busy day but I have some time this morning. Are you free right now? I could be there in twenty minutes or so.’
The pause seemed too long but finally DCI Hawkins’ booming voice came back from the other end of the line. ‘Yes, that works well. I’ll see you shortly.’
The moment she hung up she regretted her decision. ‘I could be walking straight into a trap,’ she muttered to herself. For a moment she thought about calling back, telling him that she had forgotten she had an important meeting. She could resist rescheduling.
But there was a part of her that wanted – no, needed – to know what he wanted to say, whether he was in possession of new information. Perhaps she’d find out wh
ether Miriam had mentioned anything else, if the police were investigating her claims, how seriously they were taking them. Living in the dark was untenable. She was stressed beyond belief and unsure how to cope with everyday life. She needed information, even if what she would hear wasn’t good. Picking up her bag, she slung it over her shoulder and left the office, walking out into the frigid street, going as fast as she could towards the junction and hailing a taxi.
Sitting back in the car, she sent a text to the others.
Been called to the police station again. Is this ever going to end?
Her thoughts turned back to Helen and a feeling of irritation started forming in the pit of her stomach. Why couldn’t she hold it together? She’d already failed to keep her end of the bargain and divulged their secret. And now she was on the brink of breaking. ‘God, I need a drink,’ she muttered.
The taxi came to a halt and Bea paid the driver and got out, walking the few steps to the station. She took a deep breath and walked inside, asking for DCI Hawkins at the front desk and sitting down while waiting for him. ‘I’ll wait five minutes and leave,’ she told herself, clenching her fists in her lap in determination.
But barely a minute had passed when a uniformed policeman called her name. ‘DCI Hawkins is ready to see you.’ Bea followed him along the now familiar corridor, every step feeling as if it was taking her closer to her fate. She knew that she needed to remain vigilant. ‘Don’t talk too much,’ she warned herself. ‘Just answer the questions.’
‘Here we are,’ the policeman said, stopping in front of oak double doors and knocking three times. He opened the door and backed away, motioning for her to walk in.
Stepping inside the large conference room, Bea took stock of her surroundings. The dark wood panelling on the walls. The large oval table and several chairs. The detective was sitting at the head of the table, a pile of files towering in front of him, papers scattered in a semicircle. He looked up and nodded at the policeman, who stepped back and closed the door.
We All Fall Down Page 26
