Through the Dark Keyhole

by Rosalyn Richardson

  “The problem is,” Ian continued, his eyes still level with mine. “It’s not all imaginary, Natasha,” he confessed. “I do have feelings for you. Clare had picked up on that before then. I first became aware of how I felt about you, when you used to come and sit with Clare at tea times before I came home from work. While I loved seeing Clare, for once, acting more like the Clare I married and having a light-hearted laugh and a joke, I began to realise it was you who I was looking forward to coming home to see, that infectious giggle and the light in your eyes as you did so; your sense of humour and playfulness …” he petered out then.

  “Obviously it escalated when you came to work at the surgery and I was able to see a lot more of you. I think that Clare, although it was unbeknown to me, had her suspicions about my feelings. I think she reasoned that once the baby was here, everything would change and bring us closer together again.”

  “So,” I retorted angrily, “This has escalated and I have been totally unaware of the cause and become her victim and target, and you knew about it!”

  I didn’t wait for a response. “I can’t live like this anymore, even if you do manage to quickly get Clare into Faversham, I’m done here. I am giving in my months’ notice. I can’t work here anymore and too much water has flowed under the bridge for me to stay anywhere around here. Something needs desperately to be done about Clare for her own safety, and mine before there is any more damage done.”

  I didn’t wait for Ian’s reply. I turned and walked out of his consulting room and I slammed the door, much to the surprise of the receptionists.

  The devastating thing was, that “help” for Clare didn’t happen soon enough, and there was more devastation afoot.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  The anger that had fired up inside me and my outburst. Now that I knew the truth about the situation, made me more determined not to let it affect my professional work, and I successfully completed my appointments for the day.

  I made sure I kept well out of Ian’s way, and decided that if he tried to ring through to my consulting room that I wouldn’t speak to him, but he didn’t even try, much to my delight. I decided to make a few calls before I set-off, back to the apartment.

  I rang Neil first, who I must admit, was extremely sympathetic. He was becoming a lot more tolerant of my calls and, especially now, seemed to be taking my plight a lot more seriously. Neil agreed that this was getting rather serious. He thought that this could be a case of malpractice, but I disagreed.

  “Well, you can’t really say it’s malpractice, and, although it grieves me, I can’t imagine that, he, as a doctor, and someone who makes out that he has feelings for me, would have knowingly let Clare carry on as she has done. At least I now know what the situation is, and I’ve made a positive decision to get out as soon as possible,” I assured Neil.

  I was relieved when Neil said that he would be down this way, the day after next, and would call and take me out for a meal. I felt warmed by his protective persona.

  I then rang Jayne, who was totally aghast at everything, and as always, assured me that I just had to ask if I needed any help and invited me up for the weekend. Jayne was relieved that I had handed in my notice and was going to look at coming back up North.

  As I drove home, with mixed feelings, and not looking forward to being in the same building as Ian and Clare, I had Rosie to look forward to.

  It was horrible that it was also so quiet at Marton Manor. Alison and Chris were on their annual Caribbean cruise, Mary was still at the hospital most of the time and Jo was still at her sister’s house.

  Almost gingerly I made my way through the heavy oak door through the foyer and glanced warily to see if the baby clothes were still on the floor outside my door, where they had landed earlier that morning. I saw that they weren’t and thought that if Ian hadn’t picked them up, one of the carers must have done so.

  Rosie, was pleased to see me and the welcome she gave me each time I came through the door was something to treasure.

  Again, I didn’t sleep well. Although it was unusually quiet upstairs, I felt like I was a human ticking time bomb, with those two upstairs. I had half wished that I had just walked out of work and set off with Rosie, but I was trying to be logical and sort out my next move with a clear head.

  I woke the next morning and put out Rosie’s breakfast and went and had my shower. Rosie strutted back through the cat flap in the meantime. I made my usual fuss of her and she came and sat on my lap as I ate my breakfast, purring loudly. I didn’t have to rush off too early this morning, as I had had a cancellation and my next client wasn’t until midday.

  I took the chance to do my housework, and as I did so, I again couldn’t help but noticed that it was quiet upstairs. I could just about hear one of the carer’s voices, as she busied herself, also trying to chat away to Clare, with little response.

  At eleven thirty a.m., I came out of my door, ready to set off for my first appointment of the afternoon. As I did so, I saw a carer. I thought it must have been the one that had been there from breakfast time. She came rushing down the staircase and as she caught sight of me, hurriedly explained that her cover worker, Tessa was running a bit late. I gathered that the carer was aware of the situation and knew that Clare needed constant supervision.

  “I’ve explained to Clare that I will be about twenty minutes. I desperately need to pop down to the corner shop on Main Street. I’ve locked the door, and I’ve left her sleeping tablets to take as she’s a bit agitated today,” the carer explained.

  I wasn’t too happy about the situation from the point of view that I didn’t think that it would be strictly allowed, as Clare was still left unsupervised. I didn’t think any more of it as at least the door was locked, and Clare should soon be asleep. Those prescribed sleeping tablets were strong.

  As I drove off to the surgery, it was with mixed feelings. Everything had seemed to fit in so perfectly once upon a time. I had a lovely home, and the job I had really wanted and enjoyed and some good friends. As a counsellor, I knew, that to give of your best to clients, it was an absolute necessity to keep your private life from interfering with your professional life. The two mustn’t cross. This was now becoming impossible, and for the sake of myself and my clients, I felt I had made the right decision to call it a day and start afresh.

  I had also made the decision that now I had given my notice in at the surgery, I was going to put my apartment on the market within the next few days. I knew for a fact that I wasn’t going to stay there. I had already told Jayne I was going to move back, and that I had decided to move close to Ryedale again.

  When I arrived in my consulting room and switched on my laptop, I could see that Neil had left me an email to say that he would be at the Hilton later that evening, but could we meet up for dinner the following evening.

  That suited me, as Grace and I were going out later in the evening. I really was looking forward to seeing Neil. In fact, I realised that I was trying to spend most of my evenings out somewhere, to cope with being somewhere I no longer felt or viewed as home. It was just a base for the time being, for Rosie and me to live, until further arrangements could be made.

  I kept hoping that Ian had really taken things seriously, instead of burying his head in his hands, and that he had used his medical influence, as it were, to finally get Clare a placement for all our sakes.

  These days, Rosie was often on my bed when I came in. If she wasn’t on the carpet sunning herself through the window when the weather allowed.

  Today all was quiet as I let myself in. Although it was unusual, occasionally she would still be out on one of her adventure trips or birdwatching from up one of the nearby trees.

  I took my bit of shopping into the kitchen and began putting it away. Often, the opening of the fridge was enough to make her jump to action. Still no reaction. Although I thought it was odd for Rosie, I carried on making my tea. Grace had texted me at the last minute and said she couldn’t finish until later, but tha
t she would pop around later in the evening.

  My tea was soon ready, and I put Rosie some tea out as well. I decided to have my tea after my shower and a change of clothes. It was my usual cold tea; a nice plateful of mixed salad.

  As I put my clean clothes on, I did begin to dwell on the fact that this just wasn’t like Rosie at all, and suddenly became slightly panicky. I worried at first that she might have become caught up somewhere, in a tree or something which I had heard cats can do at times.

  I reached for the remote control for the television and put it on low, not really watching it, but drowning the silence and eating my tea, catching short snippets of news as I did so.

  After washing up, and still with no sign of Rosie, I made my way to the French doors and decided to call for her and maybe she would come running back now that she knew that I was back.

  As I opened the doors, a terrifying sight met me and I almost collapsed with shock. There before my eyes was Rosie, laid out still and hardly breathing. Besides her were bits of chicken, spread here there and everywhere over the patio, which could only have been thrown out any old fashion, and from the way that these lumps had landed, it looked too much of a coincidence. They looked as though they had been thrown from above, from Clare’s window! Beside the half eaten pieces of chicken was a small patch of vomit which must have been from Rosie. I concluded that there must have been something wrong with the chicken or it had been tampered with beforehand.

  Before panic totally took over, I tried to keep my head. I went into my room and picked up her blanket and very gently picked her up and laid her out on the sheepskin rug that she liked to sleep on.

  I immediately rang the emergency vet and asked for a house call. I knew that there was little hope as her breathing was getting erratic and time was probably running out for her.

  I quickly left the latch off the door so the vet had immediate access and went back to be with Rosie, stroking her head gently I kept talking to her, hoping that it would keep her alive and that she could hear my voice.

  From my mobile phone I also rang Neil straight away to see if he had arrived at the Hilton yet and he said he had just checked in, but when I explained why I was calling him, he said that he would check in and come straight away.

  I also rang Ernie, who arrived at the same time as the vet, Marie Tindall. I blurted out my story as briefly as possible and my fears as to how this had come about and who I thought was responsible.

  Marie talked to Rosie as she examined her, as if she was still very much alive, but I already knew that this was futile.

  Marie touched me on the shoulder and said that Rosie would slip away very shortly and that she wasn’t going to give her an injection, due to that fact. Marie asked me if I minded her taking some samples of the chicken pieces and a sample of the vomit to try and establish a definite cause of Rosie’s sudden death. I agreed.

  At that point Neil arrived. On seeing the devastating sight, he demanded that the police be called.

  Marie was a bit wary to get involved and said that it was her job to see that Rosie was taken away and to get the samples looked at in the laboratory before anything or anybody could carry any blame.

  Fortunately, Ernie’s head was in gear. “Eh Lass, don’t forget I’ve had the CCTV set up and that it is working now,” he said helpfully.

  “Right,” said Neil. “I’m ringing the police, regardless.” He did.

  Marie said nothing at all and had carefully wrapped Rosie up in her blanket and put her in her cat basket and was going towards the patio to get the specimens that she needed.

  The police were soon at my door, and Neil took charge and explained everything and briefly managed to update them on the previous events over the past months. Ernie said that he had his computer with him and went out to his van for it. He went on to recover the CCTV coverage. I couldn’t watch it; it was enough to hear Ernie explaining everything on the screen. He confirmed that the meat was being thrown from an upstairs window, down onto my patio, and that the culprit was Clare. I overheard, Ernie then going on to show Rosie coming along and starting to eat some of the pieces that had landed down on that spot. That was enough torment for me and I went into my room for the next few minutes. I didn’t want to be reminded of what must have happened next.

  Neil came and knocked on my bedroom door, as the two policemen needed to know whether I had any idea if Ian was at home or not, or whether Clare was being looked after by one of the carers. I said that I wasn’t sure, and looked through the kitchen window. Ian’s car was there. It looked as though he was still sitting in it and he was speaking on his mobile. So, the policemen said that they would go and have a word with him outside first, and then accompany him up to his apartment to confront him with the evidence.

  They asked me to stay for a short while, in case they needed to ask me any more questions, but they assured me that Clare would be sent to a secure unit the same evening and not to worry, I would now be safe. Neil said that I was too shaken up and would not be staying there, and that I needed to get away from there, and that they had both our numbers if we needed to be contacted.

  I thanked Neil for taking charge of everything and while I was glad that he understood that I wanted to get as far away as possible from there, I didn’t know where to go.

  He smiled down at me and said, “I’ve already thought of that.”

  I might have known. He was always one jump ahead of me. “Why don’t you come back to the hotel with me? I’m sure there will be a spare room with it being mid-week,” he suggested.

  Ernie chipped in saying, “That makes sense. I’ll lock up for you once the police have left.”

  I was in no fit state to drive and Neil wouldn’t have let me anyway. It was such a relief to get out of the building, and I was fortunate that there was a spare room at the hotel.

  Neil asked me to join him in having supper. I just wasn’t hungry. I had a couple of drinks with him and then went to bed. Neil said comfortingly that I could ring him if I needed to. What a difference, I thought, not having to fit around Oksana for a change.

  The next day went by in a haze. Neil carried on with his visit to his client nearby and I caught up with some office work.

  I did get a call from the police, asking me if I wanted to press charges against Dr Ian Crowther, as he had known about his wife’s state of mind and he was aware of my suffering and that Clare wasn’t safe to live at home, and especially he, as a doctor, was more culpable. However, I decided not to, as much as it hurt, I just wanted out.

  Grace popped into the hotel for elevenses, and we chatted away over coffee in the lounge. She asked me what I was going to do. I replied that I thought that I would ask Jayne if I could stay with her for a few days and that I wanted to move back up North again. I knew Jayne would help me, we were always there for each other, come thick or thin. I gave Grace a hug and said that I would keep in touch and let her know where I was, and we could arrange one of our holidays once I was settled.

  Neil turned up at lunch time and said he was going to take me out to eat, and that he had a proposal for me – a business one of course!

  I was extremely intrigued as we sat down in the rather posh restaurant, in Snowbee, the next town on from Easterly.

  Neil put it to me that I could take over from the agency that he had employed to run the business at Ryedale while he was away, which was now most of the time. He said it would be ideal as I already practically knew how to run it with my previous experience. He said that I could live in his cottage in a sort of a “tied house” arrangement. It certainly sounded very tempting, and it didn’t take long for me to make up my mind. I did however say that, because I intended to put the apartment up for sale as soon as possible, I would look for somewhere to buy as soon as possible.

  Neil said that there was no time like the present. I agreed, and asked him if he would take me back to Marton Manor the following morning to pick up my car and I would pack most of my clothes. I wasn’t interested in movi
ng anything else for the time being.

  Ernie was working on the grounds and mowing the lawns when we arrived. Neil went to talk to him while I hurriedly went in to that apartment – not my home anymore. I packed a couple of suitcases with most of my clothes. I felt myself going into a panic attack at just stepping over the doorstep. I couldn’t wait to get out.

  I gave Ernie a hug and thanked him for all he’d done over the past few weeks. I also said that I was going to sell and that I would keep in touch with him. Ernie confirmed that Clare was to have a permanent place in the secure unit of the home that she was in now. He wasn’t sure whether Ian would stay on there or not. I felt mean, but I couldn’t care less what he was going to do.

  Finally, Neil set off back to Ryedale, and I followed but obviously, I soon lost him and his Bentley, but I didn’t mind. I was free and safe after months of torment. I would eventually meet him back at the cottage, but I knew that he would arrive a long time before me, but I didn’t mind, I was driving on to a new life.

  However, life still carried its fair share of surprises around each corner, as I was soon to find out.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  It was a long drive back to Yorkshire, but, I didn’t mind, I was just glad to be so far away from the nightmare of a life that I had been going through.

  Neil, of course, had been back for quite a while by the time I arrived at the cottage. At first, I wasn’t sure how I’d feel stepping over the doorstep again, but it felt good, oh so good.

  Neil had very thoughtfully been shopping and had prepared one of his “taste de la resistance” Italian meals, and for once I was hungry and looking forward to our meal.

  I was cold and very tired, so Neil suggested I take a shower before we eat and in the meantime, he would get the fire going.

  When I came down the stairs, the glow of the log fire, filled the room with a glow and the light from the television that was on quietly in the background, made the room look so cosy.