Wrong Place

by Michelle Davies

  ‘What information?’

  ‘I’m afraid I can’t tell you at the moment. Our priority is finding out who else might have had reason to target your nan.’

  ‘I’ve been thinking about that too, and I keep coming back to Helen. She’s the only person I can think of who might have had a grudge against Nan, because of what happened before I was born.’

  Falteringly, Della told Maggie how her mother hadn’t wanted to continue with her pregnancy but Sadie had pressured her.

  ‘You think Helen might’ve resented your nan all this time?’

  ‘Perhaps. Maybe. I mean, Helen’s life would’ve turned out differently if I hadn’t come along, wouldn’t it? She might blame Nan even after all this time. There must be some way of finding out where she is. Bank records or something.’

  ‘We’ve tried the usual channels but nothing has come up.’

  ‘She could’ve changed her name.’

  ‘If she did, she hasn’t done it officially. There is no record of a Helen Cardle changing her name either by marriage or through the deed poll registry.’

  ‘But she must’ve been in touch with someone after she went,’ said Della with evident frustration. ‘She can’t have just vanished.’

  ‘Some people don’t want to be found,’ said Maggie as gently as possible.

  ‘Well, I’m seeing Gillian Smith tomorrow. Maybe she knows more than she let on back then.’

  ‘You tracked her down?’

  ‘Yes, Nan had her number in an old address book. I’m going to show Gillian that photograph from the Echo to see if she knows the people who were with Helen on the day she went.’

  Maggie felt uneasy. Della was becoming obsessed with finding her mother and confirming she was behind the assault on Sadie.

  ‘Gillian’s statement to the police said she had no idea who Helen might’ve met at the Mansell Show that day,’ she pointed out.

  ‘That doesn’t mean she wouldn’t recognize them still if they were locals.’

  ‘I guess that makes sense.’

  ‘Can you come with me to meet her?’

  Maggie faltered. ‘If I can make time, I’ll try. But with the investigation ongoing . . .’

  ‘It’s okay, I understand. But if the others turn out to still be living locally, you could talk to them, couldn’t you?’

  Maggie knew she had to proceed carefully. While telling Della about the accident wouldn’t impede the investigation, it might make her even more distressed than she already was and her job was to help Della, not make her feel worse.

  ‘I’m afraid that’s not going to be possible. They were all from Mansell but the evening after the show, the group was involved in a road traffic accident. I’m sorry to have to tell you that some of them suffered fatal injuries in the crash. One did survive, but I haven’t tracked him down yet.’

  Della’s face drained of colour. ‘They’re dead?’

  ‘All apart from one of the men, Niall Hargreaves.’

  ‘But Helen wasn’t with them?’

  ‘No. The newspaper report I found only mentioned four of them being in the vehicle. I’m sorry. I can imagine how upsetting it must be to hear this.’

  Della looked devastated.

  ‘I can’t believe they were in an accident the exact same day. I really thought that if I could find them and speak to them I’d find out where Helen went. For years I haven’t cared but now, with Nan, it feels really important that I find her.’

  Maggie faltered. ‘I can see that, Della, but please understand we only have so many resources available to us.’

  ‘You think finding her is a waste of time,’ said Della, her face hardening.

  ‘I never said that. I just don’t want you to be disappointed if the search comes to nothing.’

  ‘It won’t. We’ll find her.’ Della looked embarrassed for a moment. ‘I know this is going to sound crazy, but the more I think about her, the more I feel like she’s here, in Mansell.’

  To Maggie’s immense relief, Alex chose that moment to return, laden with shopping bags that he plonked down noisily onto the kitchen counter.

  ‘Everything all right here?’

  Maggie glanced across at Della, who was hugging her arms to her scrawny frame. Her eyes were glazed over, like she was in a trance.

  No, everything was definitely not all right.

  56

  The end of the school day followed the same pattern it always did: hundreds of pupils streaming through the gates with their heads bent low as they frantically checked the phones they hadn’t had access to all day. The head teacher at Bea’s school had issued a decree a couple of terms earlier that all phones must be turned off and shut away in lockers during the day; the constant interruption they’d caused in the classroom had driven her and other teachers to distraction.

  Bea was one of only a few girls looking up and ahead as the throng surged forward. She stood on tiptoe to scan the sea of blonde, red, brunette and black hair as she looked for Esme. They’d arranged to meet just inside the school gate but Bea was terrified her sister might have forgotten, this new routine of walking to and from school together not one she was used to yet. Or, worse still, she might have decided she would rather journey home alone. The thought of Esme bumping into Sean without her being there to protect her turned Bea’s insides to liquid.

  Then Bea saw her, standing to the right of the gate, looking up hopefully at the girls who passed her, and when she clapped eyes on her sister, Esme beamed. Bea was bowled over with affection for her little sister and barrelled through the crowd to reach her, hugging her fiercely.

  ‘Ow, you’re squeezing too tight!’

  ‘Sorry,’ said Bea, letting her go with a grin. ‘What’d you get up to today?’

  ‘Not much. Stacie Clarkson got sent to the head again for swearing at Miss Berwick. She used the c-word,’ said Esme with a giggle.

  ‘Hmm,’ said Bea, only half listening as she steered her sister out of the gate. Her heart pounded as she looked back and forth across the road for a sighting of Sean but mercifully he wasn’t anywhere to be seen. She caught Esme also scanning the street and for a fleeting moment her sister looked disappointed.

  ‘Expecting someone?’ said Bea, unable to help herself. Esme went bright red.

  ‘No,’ she squeaked. ‘I was only looking.’

  Bea hooked an arm round her shoulders. ‘Come on, let’s go. Mum should be back early today.’

  ‘Hang on, my phone’s buzzing.’

  Bea waited patiently while Esme burrowed in her backpack for her mobile. She giggled as she read the message she’d been sent.

  ‘Who’s it from?’ said Bea sharply. She didn’t doubt that Sean or any of his shady mates would know of a way to get hold of Esme’s number.

  ‘Amelia. She’s wondering where I am.’

  ‘Didn’t you tell her you were walking home with me?’

  ‘Well, yeah, but she said you’d probably change your mind. She was all, like, who wants to walk home with their kid sister? But I’m glad you were waiting.’

  Bea smiled. ‘Me too.’

  ‘Oh, Mum’s texted as well.’ Esme frowned as she read the next message. ‘She’s going to be late home because she’s going to see Sheila from the shop. That old lady Sheila knows died yesterday. Aww, that’s sad.’

  Bea let out a low moan as everything in the street began to spin. The pavement, lampposts, houses, the cars jostling for space outside them, even Esme. Bea tried to clutch on to something to steady herself but her hands just grasped at air.

  ‘Hey, are you okay?’ said Esme.

  ‘No, no, no,’ Bea moaned. ‘Make it stop.’ She put her hands over her face but the spinning became faster and she couldn’t breathe.

  Poor Sadie was dead.

  Dead.

  Dead.

  DEAD.

  Bea screamed and collapsed to the floor.

  57

  Easing her Toyota into the station car park, Maggie was overcome by tiredness. Turni
ng off the engine, she rested her head against the steering wheel for a moment and closed her eyes. The last time she remembered feeling this exhausted was the night Jude had been born, when she’d paced the corridor outside the birthing suite at Mansell General while Lou screamed the place down, their mum, Jeanette, at her side alternately urging her to push and breathe. Every time Lou had called out for Jerome, cursing him for dying and leaving her to give birth to their child alone, Maggie’s heart had broken a little bit more.

  A sharp rap on the window made her sit up.

  ‘You okay?’ said Renshaw, after Maggie had lowered it.

  ‘Yeah, I’m a bit tired.’

  ‘I’m not surprised. Why didn’t you tell us about the fire at your sister’s last night?’

  Maggie was taken aback. ‘How do you know about that?’

  ‘The fire service passed it on to us this morning. Downstairs are dealing,’ said Renshaw, referring to their uniform division, ‘but they let the boss know because of you and he told me just now.’

  ‘Why are we involved?’ said Maggie, trying to stay calm as she got out of her car and locked it. ‘It was an accident caused by something catching fire in the microwave. The sub-officer at the scene confirmed it.’

  ‘Apparently there’s been a tip-off that the circumstances of it starting might be suspicious. You know how it is – some busybody rings in and we have to look into it. I’m sure it’ll come to nothing.’

  ‘Suspicious? In what way?’

  ‘I don’t know the details and I think it’s best you don’t either. Stay out of it.’

  ‘I can’t. This is my family you’re talking about.’

  ‘I mean it,’ said Renshaw sternly. ‘You can’t get involved. Don’t make it any worse.’

  Maggie slumped against her car as she fought back tears, hating herself for it. She didn’t want Renshaw to see her upset. What would happen to the children if the investigation revealed Lou had left them at home alone when the fire started?

  ‘Hey, it’s okay,’ said Renshaw, patting her awkwardly on the arm. ‘It’ll blow over.’

  ‘I don’t understand why someone would want to stir up trouble,’ said Maggie. She rubbed her eyes. ‘I’m not upset. I’m just really tired because I was up all night.’

  ‘That’s why you should’ve told me this morning. We could’ve shared your caseload out and I could’ve gone to see Della earlier.’

  ‘I didn’t want to let anyone down. DI Green was waiting for me to speak to Eleanor Bramwell and I’m Della’s FLO too.’

  ‘Well, I’m sending you home now. Get a good night’s sleep tonight, then you can hit the ground running tomorrow.’

  ‘No, I can’t. I’ve got to make some calls on the Cardle case.’

  ‘What calls? Can’t Nathan or I do that? Look, let’s grab a coffee and you can fill me in and then you can go home.’

  ‘Why are you being so nice to me?’ Maggie blurted out more forcibly than she intended to.

  Renshaw shot her a look. ‘If you don’t want me to, we can go back to biting each other’s heads off.’

  ‘But why the sudden change?’

  ‘I told you,’ said Renshaw, blushing to her roots, ‘I was given some good career advice from someone and it included not wasting energy on petty office politics.’ She laughed. ‘They told me this saying: “A wise man gets more use from his enemies than a fool from his friends.” Turns out they were right.’

  Maggie froze. She was familiar with the saying herself, and had heard it more than once. The first time, ironically, to illustrate to her that it wasn’t worth getting caught up in arguments with Renshaw.

  ‘Who told you that?’ she croaked.

  ‘Just someone I’m seeing,’ Renshaw replied airily.

  As Maggie stared at her colleague with mounting horror, Renshaw’s eyes widened and she swiftly averted her gaze, as if she knew she’d said something she shouldn’t.

  Maggie clutched the roof of her car for support. There was only one person she’d ever heard use that saying. But it couldn’t be . . .

  ‘Who is he, Anna?’ she said, almost choking on the sentence.

  Renshaw’s cheeks burned even darker. ‘I don’t talk about my private life at work,’ she replied brusquely. ‘Come on, let’s go in. We’ve a lot to get through.’

  Maggie took her response as all the confirmation she needed.

  It was Umpire who’d told Maggie the saying.

  He was Renshaw’s ‘hotshot’.

  58

  The noise filtering down the stairwell as Maggie climbed the three flights to her flat half an hour later made her want to turn back. She could hear the boys laughing – high-pitched and unselfconscious shrieks of unadulterated joy that only children make – but she wasn’t sure she could cope being around them.

  It had taken every ounce of professionalism she possessed to sit down with Renshaw in the face of what she’d just learned about her and Umpire and brief her on Della’s response to Sadie not going to bingo on Monday evening. Ordeal over, now she just wanted to curl up and cry. But first she had to break the bad news to Lou about the police looking into the fire.

  Mae squealed with delight and toddled down the hallway to greet her as she let herself into the flat. Maggie scooped her niece up and squeezed her tightly, making the little girl giggle even more. That lasted a couple of seconds until Mae demanded to be put down, but Maggie couldn’t let her go. She wanted to hang on to her for as long as she could.

  ‘What’s wrong?’

  Lou had appeared in front of them. From the frown on her face, she’d guessed something was amiss; Maggie’s own expression must’ve betrayed her. She put Mae down and watched as her niece gambolled back down the hallway towards the voices of her two brothers, who were laughing again. Maggie could hear the TV was on.

  ‘Sis, what’s happened?’ asked Lou worriedly.

  ‘The fire investigators were at your house this morning. It was meant to be routine, them just checking that the fire had started in the microwave like you said. But someone tipped them off that there might be more to it than they’ve been told. I don’t know exactly what’s been said but the fire is being treated as suspicious and the police have been informed. All I can think is that someone found out you weren’t there when it started.’

  Lou clamped her hand over her mouth as tears sprang to her eyes.

  ‘The police will want to talk to you,’ Maggie went on, fighting back tears of her own, ‘but you stick to your story and we’ll get the boys to stick to theirs and hopefully it’ll be okay.’

  Her sister’s shoulders shook as her tears turned to sobs. Maggie stepped forward and embraced her.

  ‘It’s going to be okay,’ she said, feeling far less positive than she sounded.

  ‘I’ve been such a fucking idiot,’ Lou cried. ‘I should never have left them to go out drinking.’

  Maggie didn’t contradict her, but she wasn’t about to pile on more guilt either.

  ‘Look, it’s done now. What’s important is that you’re all okay. We’ll sort this out, get the house fixed and get back to normal.’

  ‘The insurance won’t pay out,’ said Lou, pulling away from her.

  ‘Because of the police being involved? I told you, we’ll get that sorted.’

  ‘No, it’s not that. I haven’t been able to afford the monthly premiums for my contents insurance. I let the payments lapse so I’m not covered.’

  The last vestige of Maggie’s energy drained away.

  ‘Oh, Lou.’

  ‘I know. I should’ve said something rather than stop paying. Don’t hate me.’

  ‘Hate you? That’s a crazy thing to say.’ Maggie mentally scrolled through her finances. ‘I have some money in an ISA I can take out. I can pay for whatever needs to be replaced.’

  Lou shook her head vehemently. ‘No way, you already do too much for me. I’ll ask Mum and Dad.’

  ‘We can all help.’

  ‘But what about the tip-off? What if t
he police find out I wasn’t there?’

  ‘Keep your voice down,’ Maggie cautioned. ‘You don’t want the boys to hear what’s going on. I said we’ll deal with it.’

  ‘How? Can you speak to whichever of your lot is dealing with it?’

  ‘I can’t get involved to that extent; it wouldn’t look good if I interfered. But I can speak to someone I know at the fire service and find out from them what’s been said.’

  ‘You mean Craig? I thought I saw him there last night.’

  ‘Yes, I mean Craig. I’ll ask him to do some digging for me.’

  ‘Really? Do you think he’ll help?’

  Maggie had a feeling from the way he’d asked her out for a drink that he would be receptive. ‘I think so. I’ll call him this evening.’

  ‘You are amazing. I don’t know what I’d do without you.’

  Maggie managed a half-smile as she eased off her coat and hung it on the rack of pegs near the front door. ‘Is there anything to eat? I’m starving.’

  ‘Dad went grocery shopping and Mum’s made a lasagne that could feed fifty.’

  ‘How’s Dad getting on with the boys?’ Maggie asked, aware of Graeme’s strained relationship with her nephews.

  ‘Actually,’ said Lou, brightening, ‘he’s been great with them. He’s been playing with them and even did some spellings with Scotty. Proof that miracles do happen.’

  ‘I’m glad he’s making an effort,’ said Maggie as she trailed her sister along the short hallway into the living room. ‘Did Dad get any wine with the shopping?’

  ‘Did I get any what?’ asked Graeme Neville, who was on the sofa watching The Incredibles with Scotty glued to his left side and Jude to his right. The sight of them cuddled together made Maggie’s heart lift then plummet. If her colleagues did discover Lou had left the kids alone when the fire started, she could be prosecuted and social services would get involved, a scenario too awful to contemplate.

  ‘Wine. I need wine. Lots of it,’ she said, leaning over the back of the sofa and kissing her dad and the boys on the tops of their heads.

  ‘Bad day, love?’