‘You think Steve was murdered, don’t you?’
Kerry dried her hands and swept by, her head deliberately turned from her mother. ‘Right, you kids!’ she called to the bickering pair. ‘In the car with you.’
‘Kerry!’
‘You don’t give up, do you, Mother?’
Julie lowered her voice. ‘You think Steve was murdered. And so do I.’
Kerry stared at her.
‘And we both know who’s capable of murder, don’t we?’
Kerry shook her head. ‘You don’t know what you’re saying.’
‘Think about it. If it was obvious to me that you and Steve were still involved, what makes you think Mike didn’t realise it as well? The way Mike is, there’s no telling what he might have done.’
Kerry was silent. The same thought had crossed her own mind, but she had no intention of admitting it to her mother. She couldn’t believe Mike really was a murderer, and neither did the police, evidently. They had asked a lot of routine questions, but nothing that suggested they suspected foul play. And the coroner had declared Steve’s death accidental. Who was she to question the verdict?
Foot-weary and needing a bath, Rosie stacked the mop and bucket in the cupboard.
‘I’m glad it’s Friday.’ The patient was a homely-looking girl by the name of Mavis. Admitted to the hospital with manic depression, she had been here almost a year. ‘My mum comes to see me on a Friday.’ She smiled her lopsided smile.
Rosie had taken a liking to her. ‘Hello, Mavis,’ she said. ‘What are you doing all this way from the ward?’
In the two weeks she had been here, Rosie had quickly learned the routine. She knew the patients and they knew her, and if they followed her from the ward, it was her responsibility to call someone in authority to deal with them. But she rarely did that. Instead, she would take them back where they came from herself – unless of course they were violent, and then she would press the bell and chat to them until someone arrived to take charge.
Mavis was easy. As Rosie headed towards her ward, Mavis followed.
‘I know where you live,’ she told Rosie. ‘I came to see you yesterday and you weren’t there.’
Not believing her for one minute, Rosie humoured her. ‘How can you know where I live?’
‘I followed the nurses, and I saw you through the window. You live at the back of the house, in that horrible little room.’
Rosie chided her. ‘That’s very bad of you, Mavis. You know you’re not supposed to wander away from the ward.’
‘Sometimes, when the nurses are busy, I go for a long walk. When I come back, they think I’ve been to the toilet.’
Rosie couldn’t help but smile. ‘One of these days they’ll catch you at it and you’ll be in real trouble.’
‘You won’t tell, will you, Rosie?’
Rosie promised. ‘No, Mavis, I won’t tell.’ But she added a warning. ‘I might, though, if I know you’ve been snooping on me or the nurses.’
‘I like you.’
‘Thank you, Mavis.’ It was good to be liked.
‘I like Nurse Jenkins too.’ Her face crumpled with fear. ‘But not Nurse Alice. She hurts me.’
Rosie stopped; Mavis stopped. ‘Do you mean Alice Henshaw? When did she hurt you?’ Rosie knew Henshaw had a violent temper.
‘When I dropped the washbowl. She squeezed my arm and told me I was a lazy, wicked thing.’ Rolling up her sleeve, she showed Rosie a long bruise on her arm.
Rosie was shocked. ‘You’ll have to be more careful, won’t you? Then she won’t have reason to hurt you.’
‘She hurt you too. I saw her.’
‘Did you?’ Rosie didn’t think anyone had seen.
‘She slipped on your wet floor, didn’t she?’
Rosie didn’t like Mavis knowing. ‘It was just an accident, Mavis. I put the notice out but she didn’t see it.’
‘You had the mop in the bucket.’ Mavis screwed up her face in concentration, trying to remember exactly what she had seen. ‘She pushed the mop hard, and it hit you in the face.’
Rosie shrugged it off. ‘We’ll both have to be more careful then, won’t we?’ She would have to be doubly careful now that she knew Mavis had been following her.
‘It’s Friday.’ Both incidents already forgotten, Mavis’s face lifted in a smile. ‘My mum comes to see me on a Friday.’
Rosie pushed open the door to the ward. ‘In you go, Mavis.’
Satisfied the nurse had seen her, Rosie left her there and hurried away to her own tiny quarters. She hoped the bathroom was free so she could enjoy a long, lazy bath; a rare luxury for her.
The nurses’ quarters were situated at the back of the hospital. Made up of four terraced houses, they each had a sitting room, two bedrooms, kitchen and bathroom. Built on the back of the last one, with its own access to the outside, Rosie’s bedsitter had once been an outhouse. It consisted of one long room that doubled as a sitting room and bedroom, and it had a tiny scullery where she prepared her frugal meals. There was also a toilet, but no bathroom, so if she wanted a bath she had to take pot luck behind Nurses Jenkins and Henshaw.
Grabbing towel, soap, and a bottle of shampoo, Rosie wanted to get to the bathroom before they finished their shift. She went through the ground floor of the house and up to the bathroom. Pressing her ear to the closed door, she called out, ‘Is anyone in there?’ Since bursting in on Alice Henshaw, Rosie had been warned to shout before she opened the door; the bolt was broken and, so far, the caretaker had not found time to fix it. She called again, but there was no answer.
Delighted, Rosie went into the bathroom and turned on the taps. While the bath was filling she went to one of the two cupboards mounted on the wall, one marked ‘Jenkins’, the other marked ‘Henshaw’. Opening the door marked ‘Jenkins’, she peered inside; there was a bar of blue soap, a flannel, and two tubes of toothpaste. ‘Hmm. Nothing here worth nicking!’ Then she looked in the one marked ‘Henshaw’. Here she found a pretty bottle containing green bath oil. ‘Go on, Rosie,’ she urged. ‘She’ll not miss a drop or two, and you want to look your best, especially if you’re seeing Mike tonight.’
Unscrewing the bottle, she poured a measure of oil into the water; she watched it froth and dance, before turning her attention to the door. ‘You’d think somebody would fix the bloody bolt,’ she grumbled. ‘Any pervert could look in here.’ She rammed the chair underneath the handle.
Stripping off her overall and undergarments, she stood before the mirror, naked but for the gold pendant round her neck. Heart-shaped, with a tiny centre diamond, it had been a gift from Mike. ‘Look, Mike,’ she murmured. ‘Do you see how close I keep it?’ Caressing the pendant, she spoke to him, holding his image strong in her mind. ‘I remember the day you brought it to me… the day after I told you I was pregnant.’ Sadness clouded her eyes. ‘That night you went away, and I couldn’t find you.’ A tiny smile lifted the corners of her mouth. ‘I’ve found you now though, haven’t I? And I won’t ever let you leave me again.’
She took the pendant off and placed it lovingly on the pile of folded clothes. Glancing up, she caught sight of herself in the mirror again. Taking a moment to regard her nakedness, she recalled how she used to look; young and firm, with all her life ahead of her. Knowing those times could never return, she gave a little shrug. ‘If I wanted to, I could still turn a few heads,’ she said smugly. ‘But I don’t want any other man. Mike is the only one I’ve ever wanted.’ Finding him had been an uphill struggle, and even though she had him in her sights, he was still out of her reach. But not for long, she thought.
Half an hour later, she hurried back to her own quarters. ‘They’re not back yet,’ she congratulated herself. ‘You couldn’t have timed it better.’
Safely back in her room, she reached under the bed and drew out a carrier bag. Opening it on the bed, she took out some clothes and a pair of pretty blue shoes. ‘If that lavatory attendant hadn’t forced me to give her my other clothes,’ sh
e muttered, ‘I wouldn’t have had to spend my last week’s wages on these.’
That little incident had left a bitter taste in her mouth. ‘When this is all over, I’ve a good mind to go back and teach her a lesson!’ But she knew she wouldn’t.
When she was dressed and looking her best, she twirled before the mirror. ‘You look good, Rosie.’ The satisfied smile fell away. ‘Except for your hair. Mike always used to love your long, red hair. Remember how he would stroke it, and wind the curls round his finger?’ She turned from the mirror. ‘When he sees what you’ve done, he’ll be so disappointed.’
A few minutes later, she was ready to leave, her heart pounding at the idea of seeing Mike once more. After checking the address, she tucked the little brown notebook into her bag. ‘This hospital is not very secure,’ she tutted. ‘Not when a common cleaner can get access to patients’ confidential files.’ She chuckled. ‘But then Rosie Sharman is no common cleaner. She’s used to getting what she wants.’ A hard look flitted over her features. ‘And woe betide anyone who gets in her way!’
Discreetly slipping out the back way and down the alley, she made her way to the high street where she hailed a taxi. ‘Harbour Lane, West Bay,’ she told him briskly.
Climbing into the back, she caught him eyeing her long legs. Looking in the mirror, he smiled at her, thinking she might keep a man warm on a lonely night.
The chilling look she gave him soon cooled his ardour.
At the harbour, Rosie took a minute to get her bearings. ‘I hope you’re not playing games with me!’ She glared at the driver through the window. ‘This is the harbour front. I asked for Harbour Lane!’
Unperturbed, he held out his hand. ‘That’ll be two pounds. You’ll find Harbour Lane right in front of you.’ He pointed to the corner. ‘It’s easier for me to turn round here, and anyway it’s right there, just a few steps away.’
Rosie paid the fee and hurried away. ‘Bastard!’ Anger came quickly these days. ‘I’ll walk back,’ she decided. ‘Two pounds for a couple of miles – it’s daylight robbery!’
She thought of Mike and how they would soon be together. And the anger melted away.
Locating Mike’s home, she positioned herself on the wall opposite; tucked into a recess, it was the perfect place from which to see and not be seen. With the lights on, and the curtains open, Rosie had a clear view of the inside. Somehow she had not imagined Mike in a house with traditional furniture and chintz curtains; when she had known him, he was like her – like all the sixties children, wild and wanton. ‘The passing years change everything,’ she thought sadly. But it didn’t change the way she felt about him. Nothing could do that.
With dinner over, the children in bed, and Julie watching TV in the kitchen, Mike and Kerry had escaped to the lounge.
Building up the fire with more logs, Mike glanced at his wife. Hunched on the settee, she looked so small and vulnerable. Going to sit beside her, he asked, ‘Are you all right?’
‘Yes. Why shouldn’t I be?’ She didn’t look at him. There was too much guilt in her eyes. Her mother had strengthened the idea in her mind that Steve’s death was no accident, and that maybe, just maybe, Mike was a murderer after all.
‘Is it something I’ve done?’ He sensed her fear and it puzzled him.
She looked at him, her steely gaze unnerving. ‘I don’t know, Mike. Have you done something?’
‘I’ve spent the whole day chasing my tail,’ he replied lightly, ‘trying to get the business going. I’ve seen the accountant, I’ve chosen the signs, and I’ve placed several adverts for a mechanic. I’ve decided I can manage on my own at the desk, until we get going properly. I’ve got another appointment with the accountant next week, and a few days interviewing candidates for the mechanic’s job. Meanwhile I have to get the licence back before I can start trading. And that’s it. In a couple of weeks, three at the most, I’ll be my own boss again.’
Reaching out, he took hold of her hand and squeezed it. ‘It’s all thanks to you,’ he said gratefully. ‘I don’t know how you did it, but like I said, I’ll pay back every penny.’
‘Mike, can I ask you something?’ Seeing him all excited and keen, she could not believe he was capable of taking a man’s life.
He nodded, his face serious. ‘Ask away. I knew there was something on your mind. You’ve been too quiet all evening.’
‘Do you think Steve was murdered?’
The abruptness of the question took him aback. ‘I hadn’t really thought about it,’ he said cagily. ‘Didn’t the coroner say it was an accident?’
‘I still find it hard to believe he fell down those steps.’
‘What’s triggered all this off?’ He sensed Julie might be behind it. ‘Has someone suggested he was murdered?’
Kerry felt like a traitor. ‘No,’ she answered too quickly. ‘It’s just that he knew those steps so well – I’ve seen him run up and down them in the dark, and never lose his footing. The power went off one night some time ago. Steve was in the office. It was late and everywhere was pitch black, but he ran down the stairs, found his way to the fuse box and had the whole place lit up again in no time. How could he do that but fall down and break his neck on those same stairs?’
‘Did you tell all this to the police?’
‘Yes, but they didn’t take much notice. In fact that miserable inspector said that sometimes it can be easier to find your way in the dark.’
‘He’s right, you know.’ Mike truly agreed with that. ‘In the dark, all your senses come into play. In the light, you tend not to concentrate so much.’ He knew that from his time at the hospital. Sometimes, in the dark, he had felt he had the eyes of a cat and always he could hear his own heart beating. In the daylight, outside influences interfered with his senses.
‘You didn’t like Steve, did you?’
‘I didn’t know him well enough to like or dislike him.’ In fact, knowing what he knew, he resented him immensely. ‘You mustn’t let Steve’s death play on your mind,’ he urged. ‘Torturing yourself won’t bring him back.’
Alerted to the subtle change in his voice, she looked into his eyes. ‘I’m not torturing myself. Why should you think that?’
‘I know you were fond of him.’
She sat up, nervously wringing her hands together. ‘Look, Mike, there’s something you should know.’
Raising his hand, he gestured for her not to say any more. ‘I think I already know,’ he said. ‘But it’s over now, isn’t it? We mustn’t let it come between us.’ He had to choose his words carefully. ‘I had an idea you and Steve were having an affair, but I didn’t want to confront you with it. If you were working up to making a choice, it had to be your choice. I didn’t want to destroy any future we might have together by issuing ultimatums, and anyway, what right did I have to do that?’
Kerry was ashamed. ‘You had every right. You’re my husband.’
‘Not for the past three years.’ How he wished he could turn back the clock. He had to hear it from her own lips. ‘Would you have chosen him, do you think?’
She took a moment to answer. When she spoke, he knew she was telling the truth, and he was filled with regrets. ‘I had already told Steve we were finished. I said I had to make a go of it with you. That the affair we had was because I was lonely; that it didn’t mean anything more than that.’ She paused. ‘I turned him away… told him he would have to find other work.’ Tears filled her eyes. ‘That’s why I’m so obsessed with what happened. Because I feel partly to blame. If he really did fall down those steps, it was because his mind was on me and what I’d done to him.’
‘I don’t deserve you.’ Hooking his hand beneath her chin, Mike raised her face to his. ‘And if you were that lonely, I can’t blame you for turning to someone else for comfort. We have so much going for us, Kerry. Don’t let anything spoil it. Not now.’ When she smiled, his heart soared. She was his at last. ‘Dry your tears,’ he murmured. ‘I’m taking you out.’
She laughed. �
�Where?’
‘I don’t know. Anywhere! We can take a boat out and sail all the way to the horizon or, if you’re not feeling that adventurous, we can stroll down to the Fisherman’s Inn and have a quiet drink by the log fire.’
Greatly relieved that her secret was out in the open, she threw her arms round him. ‘We can do that here,’ she suggested meaningfully.
‘You brazen hussy!’
‘You’re not complaining, are you?’
The look he gave her was charged with emotion. ‘Never!’ Gently pushing her away, he told her, ‘Stay right where you are. I’ll be back in a minute.’
He went out of the room and returned moments later. ‘Close your eyes,’ he said, and when she did as she was bid, he came across the room. She felt his weight push down beside her. She felt his hands on her shoulders, and his breath gentle on her face. ‘I love you so much,’ he murmured; kissing her passionately, he made her shiver with anticipation.
Outside, in the cold night air, Rosie watched them kiss, and her heart was dark with hatred.
She saw him release her, and she waited with morbid fascination while he took the small white box out of his pocket to show her. She saw Kerry’s face open with delight. Mike took the gold pendant out of the box and placed it lovingly round his wife’s neck.
Rosie was devastated. ‘You bastard!’ she hissed. ‘You can’t give her a pendant. You can’t do that to me…’ Her voice trailed away in a sob. ‘Oh, Mike, I thought it was a special thing, between you… and… me…’
Hurt and disillusioned, she reached to her neck, fingers searching for her own gold pendant. It wasn’t there!
Frantic, she tore at her clothes, shaking them loose, thinking the pendant might have got caught up inside. ‘I can’t have lost it!’ On her hands and knees she scoured the ground, breaking fingernails and grazing her knees.
Frustrated, she stood up and ran off down the street. ‘It’s in the bathroom. I must have left it in the bathroom.’ Her only thought was to get it back. The prospect of losing it was too crippling to contemplate. She ran down to the harbour, not sure which way to go. Seeing a cruising taxi, she hurried towards it, not realising it was the same driver who had dropped her off earlier.
Hiding Game, The Page 16
