Wrong Place

by Michelle Davies

  Della nervously wound a strand of hair round her finger as she walked down the corridor and out of HDU, a habit begun in childhood that she’d never been able to break. Should she mention to the police about her birthday and the money, in case it was relevant? She wished she could ask Sadie if there was a possibility Helen knew about it.

  Too tired to think straight, Della trudged to the bus station to catch the 141 home. Halfway through her journey a sudden realization pierced through her jumbled thoughts. If Helen had come back to get her hands on the pay-out she would need all the paperwork relating to it – and the uniformed officers who arrived first at the house that morning had told Della that Sadie’s personal documents, kept locked in a bureau in the dining room, were not disturbed during the break-in.

  She slumped back in her seat and stared dejectedly out of the window as the bus continued to wind through the streets of Mansell, past rows of parked cars and houses with Christmas decorations hung prematurely in their windows.

  It was silly of her to think Helen had returned after all this time – yet it surprised her how much she wished it was true.

  15

  Maggie watched Della leave HDU from her vantage point outside Eleanor Bramwell’s room, but did not call out to her. The young woman looked exhausted and troubled and as Maggie had no other questions for her at that time, it seemed kinder to leave her to go home and get some rest.

  ‘It’s gone nine,’ Maggie said to Belmar, who was fidgeting on the hard plastic seat next to her. ‘How much longer do we give it? Eleanor has made it clear she’s not going to talk to us this evening.’

  Three times they’d gone in to ask if she was ready to make a statement; three times Eleanor had screamed at them to get out. After the third time, DI Green ruefully said that she was going to head back to Trenton. ‘I can make myself more useful up there than I can sitting here.’

  Belmar got to his feet and stretched.

  ‘I’ll call Ballboy to see what he says but I think we should call it a night,’ he said. ‘As long as uniform stay here on the door, I don’t see why we need to as well.’

  Maggie nodded. It felt strange to be taking direction from Belmar when it had been the other way round on the Rosie Kinnock case, with her the more experienced FLO in their partnership. Belmar’s position as one of the investigating officers with HMET meant he could call the shots over her now, even though they shared the same detective rank.

  ‘I’ll go outside,’ he added. ‘I don’t want a nurse telling me off for using my phone in a restricted area.’

  Maggie had no desire to check her own phone for messages, not after that last text from Umpire. Who knew one tiny word could cause so much hurt? It was worse than if he’d fired off a huge, expletive-filled rant. Now, she wasn’t expecting to hear from him again unless it was work related.

  Keen to distract herself from how upset he’d made her, Maggie mulled over the subject of whether Lou had forgiven her yet for forgetting to babysit. How long would her sister sulk for this time? The record was three weeks, back in their early twenties when Maggie had had to duck out of a week’s holiday with Lou and the boys at a caravan park in Great Yarmouth because of work. The silence had dragged on far too long for Maggie’s liking and only ended when she booked and paid for another trip to make up for the one she’d missed.

  Maggie’s friends often remarked that she was too deferential towards Lou and that it was wrong she always apologized for the slightest upset, especially when an apology wasn’t warranted. Only Maggie knew that her saying sorry had less to do with her actions in the present and more to do with the past – specifically the death of Lou’s fiancé, Jerome.

  Maggie had had a secret affair with Jerome when she was eighteen, and she blamed herself for his death. Walking home from an afternoon’s drinking in a pub while her pregnant sister was at work, Maggie had tried to kiss Jerome but he’d ducked out of her grasp, fearful someone might see them and tell Lou. He’d run backwards onto a zebra crossing without checking the oncoming traffic first and died almost instantly after being struck by a car.

  More than once Maggie had come close to blurting out the truth to Lou, worn down by the guilt that festered inside her like a rotten appendix. If she hadn’t tried to grab Jerome, if he hadn’t run out, if he’d seen the car approaching, if she’d turned down his advances in the first place . . . So many ‘what ifs’, and she was haunted by them all. But she always stopped short of confessing because Lou didn’t deserve her heart to be broken any more than it already had been: discovering the man she’d planned to marry had been having sex with her little sister would devastate her as much as his death had. So Maggie had learned to live with her secret and tried to make amends by devoting as much time and as many resources to Lou as she could spare, including paying a generous stipend into her bank account every month to help cover her bills.

  Belmar returned smiling. ‘Umpire says we can call it a night. He wants you back here first thing to try again with Mrs Bramwell.’

  ‘What time? Shall I meet you in reception before heading up?’ Maggie got to her feet and pulled her coat on.

  ‘It won’t be me coming, it’ll be Ballboy. He said be here at eight.’

  Maggie managed to keep a straight face as her insides somersaulted.

  ‘He’s coming himself? Why’s that, if there’s nothing to suggest a link to Bramwell’s firm?’

  ‘He didn’t say. Fancy a drink before we head home?’

  ‘Not tonight. I’ve got to pop round to Lou’s. Tell you what, we’ll go out and celebrate your new job properly when this case is done.’

  ‘Allie will be pleased. She said it felt like we were lying to you when we saw you the other week and didn’t say anything.’

  Keeping the truth from someone was not the same as lying – as Maggie well knew. ‘Tell her it’s fine.’

  ‘Good, I will.’ He reached for his own overcoat, which was draped neatly on the back of his chair. ‘We could both do with a night out to let off some steam.’

  Maggie shot him a look. ‘Is everything okay with you two?’

  ‘Yeah, we’ve just got a lot going on at the moment.’

  Maggie decided not to push him again – if he wanted to confide in her, he’d do it in his own time.

  Downstairs in the hospital’s main reception, she was relieved to see the newsagent’s concession was still open.

  ‘I need to pick up something for Lou,’ she told Belmar. ‘I’ll speak to you in the morning. Tell Allie I said hi.’

  He gave her a quick hug and left.

  There were slim pickings inside the shop as most of the shelves needed replenishing after a busy day. Maggie grabbed a carton of Roses chocolates and a copy of Heat magazine with Taylor Swift on the cover. As a peace offering it would have to do.

  16

  The drive from the hospital to the street where Lou lived took less than five minutes. It was close to the railway line that carved through Mansell and a train heading in the direction of London thundered past as Maggie got out of her car. With a start it reminded her again of Umpire and the time they hopped aboard a train to dine out in Soho, their excitement building as the rolling Chiltern fields that encircled Mansell gave way to the densely packed streets of west London as they drew closer to Marylebone, their final stop. Smarting with regret, she watched the train disappear from view down the tracks.

  Lou’s house was in the middle of the terrace and Maggie was surprised to see that the upstairs lights were still on as she approached. Reaching the front door, she could hear children’s voices shrieking inside and was even more taken aback. Lou never let the boys stay up so late on a school night.

  She rapped on the front door with the knocker but the noise inside was too loud for it to be heard. So she thumped on the door with her fist and suddenly everything went quiet. As the seconds ticked by, she thumped again and called out, ‘Hey, Lou, it’s me!’

  She could hear scuffling inside until at last the door opened and M
aggie found herself staring down at her eldest nephew, Jude.

  ‘What are you doing still up?’ she asked with a bemused smile.

  ‘Nothing,’ he said sheepishly.

  Maggie frowned. He was a terrible liar.

  ‘Jude, what’s going on?

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘Where’s your mum?’

  Jude wouldn’t meet her gaze. Maggie pushed past him into the house, stepping straight from the front doorstep into the lounge, where she found Scotty bouncing on the sofa as a Ben 10 cartoon blared out from the TV in the corner. Like Jude, he was in his pyjamas. On the coffee table there was an empty family-sized packet of cheese-flavoured Doritos, a discarded chocolate bar wrapper and two Robinson Fruit Shoots. No wonder Scotty was so hyper. Maggie marched over and turned the TV off, ignoring the howls of protest from him.

  ‘Lou?’ she called out. ‘Are you upstairs?’

  ‘She’s not here,’ giggled Scotty as he resumed his bouncing.

  Maggie was horrified. ‘She’s gone out and left you on your own?’

  ‘No, I’m babysitting,’ said Jude defiantly and for a second Maggie was reminded of his dad. Jude took after Lou in appearance, with the same hazel eyes, aquiline nose and open features, but the older he got the more his temperament mirrored Jerome’s. The easy-going little boy Maggie adored was becoming cocky and strong-willed as he hurtled towards adolescence.

  ‘You’re only eleven, Jude. You’re far too young to babysit Scotty, let alone Mae.’

  ‘That’s not what Mum said,’ he huffed.

  ‘Is Mae with her?’

  ‘No, she’s upstairs asleep in her cot.’

  Maggie was overcome by anger. What the hell was Lou thinking, leaving the children alone? What if one of them had hurt themselves? Didn’t she realize she could be accused of abandonment or even neglect? Lou had pulled some stunts in her time but this one went beyond the pale.

  ‘Right, you two, upstairs to bed,’ she ordered. ‘I’ll wait down here until your mum gets home.’

  She must’ve looked angry because neither boy argued as she ushered them upstairs. To her relief Mae was sleeping soundly in her cot in Lou’s bedroom. Maggie tiptoed out and went into the room the boys shared.

  ‘Has Mae been okay?’ she asked Jude as he slid beneath his duvet on the top bunk bed. Despite his junk food excesses, Scotty was already drifting off in the bunk below.

  ‘Yes,’ he said sullenly, clearly unhappy that Maggie had taken charge. ‘Mum left a bottle of milk in the fridge for me to heat up if she woke up. I know what I’m doing.’

  ‘I know you do, Jude, you’re terrific at helping with Mae. But that doesn’t alter the fact you are way too young to be looking after her and Scotty on your own. Do you know where your mum’s gone tonight?’

  ‘She didn’t say. She just said to call her if there was a problem.’

  Maggie thought for a moment. Given her current mood, Lou would probably ignore her if she rang.

  ‘Where’s your phone, Jude?’

  ‘There,’ he said, pointing to the desk in the corner of the room. Lou had picked the desk up second-hand in a junk shop but it was Maggie who’d spent a weekend sanding it down and repainting it bright blue, the boys’ favourite colour.

  ‘I need to borrow it. I’ll take it downstairs so I don’t wake Mae. Go to sleep, sweetheart.’

  Back in the lounge Maggie flicked through the contacts on Jude’s phone to find Lou’s number. She was gratified when her sister picked up after only two rings.

  ‘Jude, what is it?’ There was music playing loudly wherever Lou was and she had to shout to make herself heard. A man was laughing raucously very close by.

  ‘It’s not Jude, it’s me.’

  ‘Maggie? Why have you got Jude’s phone?’ Lou demanded to know, her panic evident. ‘Has something happened?’

  ‘No, thank God. But I came round to see you and found the kids on their own. I can’t believe you went out and left them.’

  ‘I’m only up the road at the Hand & Racquet,’ Lou protested. ‘I left Jude to babysit.’

  ‘He’s eleven,’ Maggie hurled back. ‘How could you be so irresponsible? You do know you could be done for leaving the kids at home alone?’

  ‘Get off your high horse,’ Lou snapped. ‘If you hadn’t let me down, I wouldn’t have had to leave them.’

  ‘I should’ve known you’d blame me. But you know what, Lou – for once I am not going to let you. Get back here now.’

  ‘Oh, but I’m having such a good time,’ her sister whined. ‘I’m really sorry I left them and I promise never to do it again, but please, Maggie, can’t you stay with them now you’re there?’

  Against her better judgement, Maggie could feel herself wavering.

  ‘Please, Maggie,’ Lou implored. ‘I just want a night out. You know how hard it is for me.’

  Maggie bit her lip.

  ‘Come on, sis,’ Lou tried again, her voice hardening. ‘You owe me. Don’t pretend you don’t. I know what you’ve been keeping from me.’

  Maggie went very still. ‘What?’

  There was a long pause that was filled by Liam Gallagher wailing the words to ‘Wonderwall’ in the background.

  ‘It doesn’t matter,’ said Lou eventually. ‘Will you stay or not?’

  ‘I’ll stay,’ said Maggie quickly.

  Lou hung up and Maggie slumped back on the sofa. For a horrible moment she’d thought her sister was going to say she knew about her and Jerome. But there was no way Lou wouldn’t have come out with it straight away if she had found out. She’d go ballistic and would make sure everyone else knew about Maggie’s betrayal too. And how would she ever find out anyway? The only other person who knew about the affair was Jerome and he was dead. He’d taken their sordid, shameful secret to the grave and it would remain there with him, buried forever.

  17

  Bea poked the porridge in front of her with her spoon. She wasn’t hungry and had only managed a mouthful so far. Esme, who was sitting next to her at the table, had already finished hers and was now jabbering on about what she wanted for Christmas.

  Bea’s phone lay silent on the table beside her bowl. It felt odd not to have received any texts from Sean since leaving his flat yesterday. Normally there would be a steady stream of messages from him throughout the evening, which Bea would explain away to her parents as being a friend from school texting her. She’d saved his number under ‘Nicole’, just in case.

  ‘Eat up, Bea,’ her mum chided from across the kitchen, where she was unloading the dishwasher. ‘You can’t go to school on an empty stomach.’

  Bea tried another mouthful and almost gagged. The porridge was cold now and it cemented to the roof of her mouth.

  Her dad bundled into the kitchen in a rush, his overcoat half on as he fastened his watch.

  ‘Anyone seen my keys?’

  ‘Hanging up,’ Bea, her mum and Esme all intoned simultaneously, before the latter two dissolved into giggles. Every day it was the same skit: Dad would rush in pretending he couldn’t find his keys but they were where they always were, hanging on a hook in the hallway. It was a family in-joke but today Bea couldn’t see the humour in it.

  She caught her dad staring at her with concern and quickly ate another spoonful of porridge as he came over and stroked the back of her head.

  ‘You okay, sweetheart?’ he asked.

  She nodded and pointed at her full mouth to show she couldn’t answer him.

  ‘Mum told me you want to go back to your natural hair colour. I can’t say I’m not pleased,’ he said with a smile.

  ‘Oh, thank God for that,’ squeaked Esme. ‘That colour is so rank.’

  ‘Enough, Esme,’ said her mum sharply. ‘Leave your sister alone.’

  Esme rolled her eyes and returned to writing her Christmas wish list, top of which was an iPhone 6, followed by getting her ears pierced and a trip to London to see Wicked. Bea felt a pang of guilt – Esme was always being told to stop bothering
her, like she was a porcelain ornament that mustn’t be handled in case she shattered.

  ‘She’s right though,’ said Bea. ‘It is rank.’

  She pulled a funny face at Esme, who grinned back. Their dad smiled at them both.

  ‘Will you be back late again tonight?’ Caroline asked him.

  ‘I hope not. It depends if my meeting at four overruns. What have you got planned today?’

  ‘I’ve been asked if I can go into the shop.’

  Bea began to tune out of the conversation. The charity shop in town where her mum volunteered and was in charge of marketing their fundraising events held little interest for her.

  ‘You don’t normally do Wednesdays.’

  ‘No, but Sheila isn’t coming in today and they need someone to fill in.’

  ‘What’s her excuse this time?’

  ‘Actually, I don’t think she’s pulling a fast one for once. Her sister, Audrey, lives next door to a woman who was robbed in her home yesterday, Sadie something.’

  Bea suddenly sat up, all ears.

  ‘It sounds nasty – the woman was beaten and now she’s in a critical condition at Mansell General. Sheila’s sister is very upset, so Sheila wants to stay at home with her today.’

  ‘Hmm,’ said Chris distractedly.

  Bea fumbled her spoon and it clattered onto the table. Her parents didn’t notice.

  ‘It’s awful that these elderly women are being attacked in their own homes,’ said Caroline. ‘Did you see what they wrote in the Echo?’

  Her husband didn’t answer as he leaned across Bea to grab a banana from the fruit bowl on the table and put it in the brown leather Mulberry messenger bag he used for work.

  ‘I can’t blame Sheila for wanting to be with her sister,’ her mum went on. ‘It must’ve come as a terrible shock, happening right next door.’

  Bea found her voice again but it shook as she spoke.

  ‘Won’t the old lady get better?’ she asked.

  Caroline came over and kissed the top of her head.