The Something Girl

by Jodi Taylor

  ‘Why would she do that? He’s her darling boy.’

  ‘She doesn’t want your death on their conscience.’

  ‘It never bothered her before.’

  ‘Perhaps she’s afraid she and Richard will be implicated in some way. You have to admit, when it comes to self-interest, you’d have to go a long way to beat the Kingdoms.’

  ‘They are implicated, whether they like it or not.’

  ‘Or perhaps she regrets her past actions and has come to make amends.’

  ‘I don’t think it’s any of that, Thomas. I think she wants money. Look at that car. Normally she’d drop down dead rather than drive around in a little tin box like that. I suspect there’s no money left and she’s come for some more. To give to Christopher, probably.’ I stopped, overwhelmed by righteous indignation. ‘I must be the only person on the planet expected to fund her own murder.’

  ‘That’s a little dramatic, Jenny.’

  ‘Well, I’m feeling dramatic.’

  ‘I suspect she wants the money for herself.’

  ‘What makes you say that?’

  ‘Suitcase in the car and no Uncle Richard.’

  ‘You think she’s running away? Why?’

  ‘To avoid being involved in whatever is being planned. But we’re not going to find out anything skulking up here. Let’s go and see, shall we?’

  ‘Well, whatever her reason, she’s doomed to disappointment. I wouldn’t help her even if we had some money to spare which, thanks to her and Uncle Richard, we don’t.’

  ‘And, she’s come to you rather than Francesca. Why do you suppose that is?’

  ‘I’ve no idea,’ I said.

  ‘I suspect Francesca was her first choice and either Francesca’s own self-interest kicked in, or Daniel put his foot down and showed her the door. Could be either. Or even both. Doesn’t really matter.’

  ‘She’s going to be equally unlucky today. Good job Russell’s not here.’

  Thomas said nothing.

  ‘Do you think she deliberately waited until he wasn’t here?

  ‘I can understand her not wanting to encounter Russell, because...’

  ‘Because?’

  ‘Because she thinks you’ll be easier to deal with.’

  Suddenly, I stopped being slightly annoyed and became really annoyed. ‘Oh? Really? Well, she’s got that wrong. Come on.’

  ‘Jenny, I have to say you’re developing a very aggressive streak these days.’

  ‘You ain’t seen nuthin’ yet.’

  ‘Actually, I don’t think that makes sense. I think “You haven’t seen anything yet,” is more grammatically correct.’

  ‘Are you going to stand there all day warbling on about grammar?’

  ‘Well, given the mood you’re in, I’m not sure that wouldn’t be the wisest course of action. Where are you going? Wait for me.’

  I was half way through the door.

  ‘I don’t know,’ he grumbled, catching me up on the landing. ‘I can remember the days when I had to push you to stand up for yourself. Now I’m not sure I shouldn’t be holding you back.’

  I stopped dead and he all but bumped into me.

  ‘You’re right, Thomas. After all, I’m only little Jenny Dove who’s far too stupid to be out by herself.’

  He eyed me doubtfully. Doubting Thomas.

  I shouldn’t have done it. I don’t know why I did. Whether it was because I was fed up with being little Jenny Dove – always the weak link – or the sheer nerve of her turning up here after what she and her family had done in the past ... I don’t know. I do know I should have sat quietly and gathered as much information from her as I could. I should have held my feelings in check and remembered that she really wasn’t a nice person at all. I shouldn’t have been so keen to get rid of her. Above all, I should have seen that she was very frightened and wondered why.

  *

  Mrs Crisp met us on the landing in a bit of a fluster.

  ‘It’s Mrs Kingdom...’

  ‘Yes, I know, I saw. Where have you ... stashed her?’

  ‘She’s still in the yard.’

  ‘Well, with a ... bit of luck, Marilyn has eaten her.’

  ‘Sadly – no.’

  ‘I’ll see her in the ... sitting room. Don’t bother offering her any refreshment. That ... never ends well.’

  I gave her a few minutes to usher her in and then made a grand entrance, sweeping down the stairs.

  She’d made herself comfortable on one of our saggy sofas. I took a moment to regret the cat hadn’t found the time to join us. We’d had some Jehovah’s Witnesses around once, and I think it must have been their shortest ever recorded visit. Russell, bored, had invited them in for a good argument. You couldn’t fault their diligence but I think even they found that while the cat’s unnerving one-eyed glare and unpleasant smell was bad enough, it was the still-twitching remains of the unfortunate rodent laid mischievously at their feet that were the final straw. A grudgingly grateful Russell opened a tin of salmon for him afterwards. Anyway, the cat was out doing whatever it is disreputable old cats with no social conscience do every afternoon and, like all the men in my household, was absolutely no help at all in a crisis.

  Close up, she was much less smartly dressed than I’d thought. She certainly wasn’t dirty or scruffy, but if you’d known Aunt Julia in her heyday, expensively dressed and immaculately turned out, you could see it.

  She surged across the room towards me, affection written all across her face. For one moment, I thought she was going to kiss me. ‘Jenny, my dear. How are you?’

  I said in a faint, wispy voice, ‘I’m ...very ... well ... thank... you.’

  ‘And you have a little baby now. How delightful. You must let me see her before I go.’

  I said nothing, and if she wanted to interpret that as a sign of weakness or fear then I wasn’t going to stand in her way. Although she’d see Joy over her own dead body.

  ‘Jenny,’ said Thomas from the corner. ‘What are you going to do?’

  ‘I’m going to show her I’m not the person I used to be.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘Not sure yet.’

  Aunt Julia seated herself and gripped her handbag. I could see her knuckles were quite white. ‘Jenny, you must wonder why I’ve popped in today.’

  ‘She lives three hundred miles away,’ murmured Thomas. ‘That’s not a pop, that’s an explosion.’

  ‘Well, obviously, dear, we’ve missed you. Your uncle and I often speak of you.’

  ‘I bet they do,’ muttered Thomas

  ‘We wonder how you’re doing. Here. In this ... lovely farmhouse.’

  She glanced around. As did we all. Possibly waiting for the words to choke her.

  Again, sadly – no.

  ‘I have to say, Jenny, it’s lovely to see you doing so well here. In your lovely home. With your lovely little baby.’

  ‘Lovely!’ murmured Thomas.

  I said nothing. What did she want?

  She fidgeted with the catch on her handbag, snapping it open and closed. I don’t think she realised she was doing it.

  ‘Anyway, I was wondering ... Well, I ... I’ve had a bit of bad luck recently and ... and I was wondering whether you could see your way to lending me a small sum of money. Just to tide me over for a while. I find myself having to undertake a small journey and, well, as you know, I just don’t have the funds these days.’

  She paused so I could understand that her current lack of funds was all my fault for having been unreasonable enough to catch them helping themselves to my money.

  ‘Anyway, your uncle’s money is paid quarterly and, as you know, there’s another three weeks at least to quarter day, when I would, of course, not only be delighted to pay you back, but include a small amount of interest as well.’

  I said nothing. The silence took on a sharper quality – as did her voice.

  ‘Jenny?’

  I still said nothing.

  Licking her lips and ass
uming such a forced expression of affection that for a moment I thought the effort might see her off altogether, she said, ‘What do you say, Jenny? Are you able to help out your old aunt?’

  She paused for a moment. The words, ‘Especially after I took you into my family, put a roof over your head, and brought you up,’ were not spoken, but they might as well have been.

  For my part, the words, ‘Shut me away, told people there was something wrong with me, and stole from me,’ were also not spoken.

  I took a deep breath, my usual prelude to painful utterances. Familiar with the signs, she waited. I made her wait a little longer.

  ‘Where’s ... Uncle Richard?’

  If possible, she went even paler. ‘I’m sorry he’s not here today, Jenny. Obviously he was very keen to see you, but he’s not ... He couldn’t...’ She tailed away.

  ‘Jenny, I don’t like this,’ said Thomas, suddenly.

  Neither did I.

  I thought of Joy upstairs. Of Russell, possibly on his way home and finding her here. Of just getting her out of my house as quickly as possible. But I should have taken a moment to think.

  ‘I’m ... sorry... Aunt ... Julia...’ I paused, ostensibly to gather a little strength before plunging valiantly on, ‘I ... can’t.’

  ‘Won’t, you mean,’ she cried angrily. ‘You ungrateful little...’

  I thought I heard a faint sound from the other side of the door and I knew, just knew, that Mrs Crisp was standing, Le Creuset frying pan in hand – a weapon that had already more than proved its worth at Frogmorton – awaiting the bugle call to battle. Hopefully Kevin was there, too.

  She made a huge effort, licking her lips again and pinning on a quite dreadful smile. ‘I don’t think you quite understand,’ she said gently. ‘I’m sure that if you did – if I could just explain – you’d be only too happy to help, wouldn’t you, Jenny?’

  ‘Oh yes,’ I said earnestly. ‘I ... would. I ... would. As ... much ...as y ... y ... you want.’

  ‘Over-egging the pudding,’ said Thomas, warningly.

  Her face collapsed with relief. ‘Really? Well, that’s very generous of you, my dear. I always said you were a good little girl.’

  She smiled kindly at me and I felt sick. Did she really think their last words to me, ‘Who were you compared with us? You’re nothing. That’s how we always think of you. The nothing girl,’ didn’t still reverberate around my head? And always would.

  ‘Thank ... you, Aunt Julia,’ I said. I watched the hope grow in her eyes. ‘How much ... do ... you think ... you will ... need?’

  She snapped her handbag open and shut again. Perhaps she hadn’t thought it would be this easy. I wondered if she was mentally adding noughts to the original sum. I found I rather hoped she was, tried to feel ashamed of leading her on, and failed.

  ‘Well, I was thinking, because nothing is cheap these days, is it, around seven thousand pounds, but it’s probably easier for everyone if we round it up to an easy ten. Let’s call it ten thousand, shall we? Not that it matters. You’ll be getting it all back – plus a little extra, of course – as soon as the next quarter day rolls around.’ She smiled that bright, desperate smile again. That bright, desperate, greedy smile.

  Well, that made everything simple. We didn’t have ten thousand pounds. Nor anything like ten thousand pounds. And if we did have ten thousand pounds then I’d be spending it on the roof and not my really rather unpleasant relatives. If she’d been a little more moderate in her demands then I might have found say, five hundred pounds, but ten thousand was so beyond the realms of possibility that I could turn her down with a clear conscience.

  I nodded and smiled back again.

  ‘Well, Jenny, I have to say you gave me a bit of a scare there, saying you wouldn’t do it, but I knew that once you had thought about it...’

  ‘Oh no,’ I said, ‘I really can’t do it.’

  ‘But you just said you would.’

  ‘No, I didn’t.’

  I watched her ransack her memory and realise that no, I hadn’t.

  ‘Why not?’

  I took another deep breath and lied through my teeth. ‘Well, after ... we ... parted a couple of years ago – you’ll remember that, I’m sure.’ And I too flashed a bright smile as false as her own. ‘Russell ... told me that all this ... silly financial stuff would be ... much too difficult for me to understand, and so I should leave it all to him. And he ... was right ... because I really can’t comprehend this sort of thing at all. I mean, it’s all so ... complicated, isn’t it, and I ... get upset when people try to tell me difficult things, so he said he’d look after all that ... side of things and I ... wasn’t to ... worry about anything.’

  I watched her struggle with the implication that Russell had beaten her at her own game.

  ‘But you ... needn’t worry. I’ll tell Russell you’ve ... been here and when he hears ... what you ... wanted, I’m sure he’ll ... know exactly what to ... do.’

  She stared at me, mouth and eyes wide open. The silence went on and on. I didn’t know what else to do to get rid of her. There was always the possibility she knew that, according to Russell, paying bills was something that only ever happened as a last resort, and that he was more than happy to leave everything to me, but I doubted it. In her household, Uncle Richard handled all that sort of thing. In her world, men paid the bills. That was what they were here for. And we both knew she would never, in a million years, approach Russell. She really had no choice now but to leave.

  I rose to my feet and waited for her to sweep from the room. Something she always did really well, but she didn’t. She just sat, staring, empty-eyed into the distance. The silence lengthened.

  ‘Thomas, something’s not right.’

  ‘No,’ he said. ‘It’s not, is it?’

  I sat next to her and took her ice-cold hand. She was trembling all over.

  I called, ‘Mrs Crisp.’

  The door opened immediately. I knew she’d been waiting for my call.

  ‘Could you bring some tea, please?’

  Without even a pause, she said, ‘Of course, madam,’ and left the room. She only ever called me madam when Aunt Julia was around. As far as I know, she never called Russell madam at all.

  I said softly, ‘Aunt Julia? Please ... tell me what’s wrong.’

  She tried to speak but no sound came out. I began to be afraid she was having some sort of seizure.

  ‘Perhaps it’s better if you don’t try to speak. Just sit back for a moment.’

  I pushed her gently back against the cushions and reached for the old throw to put across her knees.

  Thomas had moved back out of the way as I fussed around, lifting her feet up and tucking the throw around her. She was a dreadful colour and I seriously considered telephoning for an ambulance.

  Kevin opened the door and Mrs Crisp came in with the tea trolley. Closing it behind her, he said, ‘Is everything all right, madam?’

  Bless him. ‘I’m not sure, Kevin. Could you wait around, just in case I need you?’

  ‘Of course.’

  Mrs Crisp busied herself pouring tea. She put a cup and saucer on the coffee table in front of Aunt Julia, who was in such a state that a mug would probably have been safer, although I don’t think Aunt Julia is actually aware of the existence of mugs, far less their function.

  I became aware of the comforting smell of ginger biscuits. Thomas was doing his bit in our current crisis. I don’t know if Aunt Julia was aware of it or not, but her breathing became more regular, some colour returned, she sat a little straighter.

  I handed her the cup and saucer. She sipped slowly, not looking at me.

  I let her finish and then began again.

  ‘Aunt Julia, please. Won’t you tell me what this is all about? What’s happening?’

  She shook her head. I took a chance.

  ‘This is about Christopher, isn’t it?’

  She burst into tears.

  The door opened again and Mrs Crisp
came in again with a box of tissues and we did our best to mop her up. We weren’t particularly successful, and I remember thinking it must have been a measure of her agitation that she wasn’t giving any thought to her personal appearance. I needed to get to the bottom of this.

  ‘Gently,’ advised Thomas, and I nodded.

  I took her hand and tried my best to sound stern and authoritative. ‘Now, Aunt Julia. Tell me. Let me ... see if I can help.’

  She twisted her hand so that now she clutched mine. Her grip was very strong. ‘Just give me the money, Jenny. You must give me the money.’

  ‘I can’t. I don’t have it.’

  ‘You must. You don’t understand. I can’t go away without it.’

  I sat back. Suddenly, some things began to fall into place.

  ‘Did Christopher send you?’

  She jumped, looked terrified and then shook her head. So who was the money for?

  ‘Thomas – the suitcase.’

  ‘I beg your pardon?’

  ‘The suitcase in her car. The money’s not for Christopher. The money is for her and Uncle Richard. They’re running away.’

  ‘And she’s too afraid to go back and tell him she hasn’t been able to persuade you to part with the money.’

  I said slowly, ‘No, wait. There was only one suitcase in the car.’

  And then the truth hit us both simultaneously.

  ‘She’s running away from both of them. Christopher and Uncle Richard. Whatever they’ve got planned, she doesn’t want to be any part of it.’

  ‘Jenny, this is quite serious.’

  ‘I know. But if she genuinely wants to get away ... Look how terrified she is.’

  And indeed she was. The cup and saucer rattled in her hands as she leaned forwards to put it on the table.

  I came to a decision.

  ‘Aunt Julia, do you need the money to get away from Christopher and Uncle Richard?

  She looked over her shoulder as if either of them could hear her. ‘You don’t know what he’s like.’

  ‘Who? Christopher?’

  Her lips never moved. It was as if she was afraid to utter his name. ‘Richard.’

  I patted her hand. ‘If you can wait two or three days, then I could probably let you have two thousand pounds. If you want money now then I can write you a cheque for, say, four hundred.’