‘What about you, Jenny, what’s your plan? Will you keep working here?’
‘Bob’s paying us extra to stay. He’s terrified that the stigma of having a murder here will scare off customers. It’s done the opposite. People are coming to see where it happened. I’ll take the money while it’s on offer, then find something else when it all calms down. It always suited me this job, it meant I could get my studying done. It’s not the same now.’
It was nice to see Jenny, she was a good kid, like Jackson. I was pleased to hear that things were working out for her. I paid for the meal and walked with her towards the hotel entrance.
‘Do you mind if we keep in touch?’ she asked. ‘Now it’s all over. Not with Erazerr. Via Facebook. Would that be okay?’
‘Yeah, of course it would, Jenny. Send me a connection request, I’d love to stay in touch. It’s been good meeting you.’
I gave her a hug, she was slight and slender, not the kind of figure I was used to holding. I gave her a smile, and we parted.
I had some catching up to do with Ellie and Alex too.
Ellie and I also met up over lunch, a couple of days after I’d seen Jenny. We’d Skyped in between times, but I was keen to see her in person.
‘Hey, that looks sore,’ she said, examining my eye wound and my nose.
‘It is,’ I replied, unsure if I should greet her with a hug. She put me out of my misery and wrapped her arms around me. We stood like that for longer than a normal greeting. We’d been through a lot that night. We’d started something terrible when we slept together.
‘How’s Dave?’ I asked, deciding to go for a new subject first.
‘Finally got the message,’ she smiled. ‘I should have done it ages ago. I know what happened was really shit, Pete, but some good came out of it. Tony Miller is gone. I’ll never see him again, I only feel relief. I think Dave’s just pleased he didn’t get involved. I told you he’s a squirmy little toad. I should have ditched him ages ago. I’m sorry, Pete, but this worked out okay for me. How are things with Meg?’
I sighed.
‘Not so good, I don’t know what’s happening. I’m dealing with her through Martin at the moment. She must know what we did. We haven’t talked about it, but she has to know. The baby changes everything too. I don’t even know if it’s Jem’s. I don’t know how pregnant she is ...’
Ellie squeezed my hand. I know it had only been a one-night stand, but I didn’t sleep with just any woman, there has to be a connection for me. I’d like to think that’s what separates me from someone like Jem. He didn’t care, for him it was all about the power and the sex, but for me it’s always been more about the person.
‘What will you do now?’ she asked, searching my face to figure out how I was really feeling.
‘Who knows? It depends on Meg. We won’t go back to the house, that’s for sure. Neither of us wants it, she’s moved out and so have I. If we stay together, I guess we’ll rent for a while, sell the house, start afresh.’
‘Will you stay at work?’
‘I don’t know, Ellie. I honestly don’t know. I need to see how it goes with Meg. I just can’t say at the moment.’
She looked at me again, she was deciding whether to say something.
‘Look, Pete, if things don’t work out, maybe you and me can see each other again. You need to make it work with Meg, I know you do. But if it doesn’t work out ... well, I like you – a lot. I enjoyed our time together. You’re a nice guy.’
I squeezed her hand.
‘Thanks, Ellie. I can’t think of a nicer person to be with if my marriage doesn’t work out. I’ve got to tell you though, if Meg and I can’t make it work, I might be up for a job move. There are too many memories in that office. I think it could be time to think about moving on.’
I saw the disappointment in her face, but I owed it to Meg to work on our marriage first. Ellie and I exchanged contact information and parted once again. It had been good to see her, to talk things through.
I spoke to Alex at the earliest opportunity after I’d been discharged from the hospital and given the police a full rundown on what had happened. I had a lot to thank Alex for. She had alerted the two bobbies in the house to what was going on. They’d been shocked to find a TV celebrity on my PC screen when they went upstairs. She’d filled them in on what we knew about the situation, convinced them to tread carefully, persuaded them that I was one of the good guys. She also gave them information about Jason Davies, explained why he was there, who he was.
Of course she felt guilty about Jason. She felt responsible. But what could any of us have done? We did what we could, it was a difficult situation. It was because of Alex that the helicopter had been on standby when Ellie had made her call to the police. They’d also got police marksmen ready – Ellie had just managed to provide the final location.
I confided everything to Alex, why wouldn’t I? She’d once held the same position in my life as Meg, she was important to me. She knew who I was, I didn’t have to explain myself.
We agreed to meet up. I said I’d see her in London once everything had calmed down again. After the funerals. It would be good to see her. If Meg and I got back together, I’d tell her the truth, let her know how Alex and I had almost started a family. It would be difficult, but it might help Meg understand.
It felt as if I’d met up with everybody who was involved in those events except the one person I was desperate to see. I needed to see Meg. I had to know what was happening. I didn’t see her again until the day of the funerals.
It was chucking it down with rain on the day they buried Sally and Jem. They decided to bury them together. Not on top of each other, but next to each other in the graveyard. I didn’t envy their ageing parents that decision. In the end, though, they made the decision for the kids. They were far too young to understand what had happened. It was just their mum and dad. It was the saddest thing about that funeral, seeing the kids.
I wasn’t sure whether to attend or not. There was so much anger over Jem, what he’d done and how he’d behaved. I’d resolved to contact Anna again, I felt so guilty about how she’d been let down.
The ceremony was the usual religious bollocks. The vicar steered clear of anything controversial, focusing on the family that Jem and Sally had made together. It turned out that Sally had a history of mental illness. She’d tried to take her life before, many years ago, before the kids came along. Maybe that’s why Jem felt trapped, who knows?
I was so angry with Jem. I felt completely betrayed. This man who’d been my friend. He’d raped my wife. He’d drugged her and had sex with her when she was incapable of giving her consent.
The police found an entire online history of drug orders. He’d been at it for years. A supplier from the USA. He didn’t use the drugs every time, many times the sex was consensual. But if things weren’t going his way, he’d spike their drinks and have sex with the girls anyway.
My friend was a monster. How did I not notice that? I’d been completely deluded. And Meg had paid the price. I could only feel sorry for Sally, he’d pushed her over the edge and destroyed their beautiful family. Those poor children, what life did they have ahead of them now?
As the relatives and few friends who could force themselves to attend filed out of the cemetery, I stayed behind, thinking, trying to make sense of what had happened. I was drenched, in spite of my umbrella, there’s only so dry you can stay on a wet day like that.
I thought that I was alone. I caught a movement out of the corner of my eye. It was still giving me trouble after the gunshot wound, and I thought I was mistaken at first. It was Meg. She walked over to me, her face partially concealed by her own umbrella.
‘I wanted to make sure the bastard was in the ground,’ she began. She’d been crying, I could see that her eyes were red. I reached out to touch her, but she flinched.
‘I’m sorry, Pete, I can’t. I’m just so ... I just feel so angry. How could you do that?’
I hung
my head. There were no excuses. I had no explanation. I could only hope for her forgiveness now.
‘What do you want to do?’ I asked, not sure if I was ready to hear the answer.
‘I can’t stay here, Pete. There are too many memories. I can’t bear to think about what he did to me. I can’t even remember, that’s the worst thing. I thought it was my fault, I thought I’d done something wrong. I thought I’d encouraged him in some way.’
Again, I went to reach out to her. She brushed my hand away.
‘No, Pete. I’m going away. I’ve requested a transfer at work. It should come through quickly enough, nobody wants to be a probation officer anyway.’
‘What about the baby?’
She looked at me. I’m sure that there was still some love in there – somewhere – but she’d made up her mind. She hadn’t come to the cemetery to discuss things, she was there to tell me what was happening.
‘I can’t face the tests just yet. It’s too much. I can’t end the pregnancy, not after what we’ve been through. I’ll have the baby, then work it out.’
‘And me? What about you and me, Meg?’
‘I’m sorry, Pete. I can’t forgive you for what you did. I heard you in your room. I was sitting there, terrified for my life, and all I could hear was you having sex with that woman. I don’t blame her, I bet you didn’t even tell her about us. But how can we move forward, Pete? You screwed everything up.’
I knew she was right. It was my fault. The blame rested with me. She’d needed my support and my loyalty and I’d been a complete tosser.
I didn’t argue with her, I would have to accept her decision and move on. There was nowhere for me to come back from, any reconciliation had to begin with Meg.
‘Can we stay in touch?’ I asked. ‘Will you let me know that you’re okay?’
‘Maybe soon,’ she replied, ‘but not now. Martin will tell you what’s going on.’
‘Okay,’ I said. ‘I’ll speak to Martin.’
I sensed that there was something else she wanted to say. You don’t spend that many years with somebody without being able to read their body language.
‘What is it, Meg? What do you want to tell me?’
She burst into tears as if she’d been holding something back for a long time.
‘I have to tell someone, Pete. I know you hate me right now, but you’re the only person I can trust ...’
‘What is it, Meg? You can tell me. You know you can trust me.’
‘I didn’t tell the police the truth, Pete. It’s why I had to come here today, to apologise to Sally.’
I looked at her. I couldn’t imagine that there was anything else left to say, things couldn’t possibly get any worse.
‘It was me who killed Tony Miller, Pete. I killed the bastard. He went to the toilet, he hadn’t secured me properly and I stabbed him. I didn’t know what else to do. He’d put his hand down my pants, felt my tits, I didn’t know what he was going to do. I just kept stabbing him. He’d put the knife down while he was peeing.’
Jesus, how much worse could things get?
‘Who killed Jason, was that you too?’
‘That was Sally. It was that bastard Tony Miller that I killed. I hadn’t got a clue who that Jason guy was. He just walked in on us while we were arguing about Jem. She whacked him with that bloody baseball bat of yours then slit his throat.’
‘What did the police say? Do they suspect anything?’
‘They think Sally killed Tony Miller. There’s nobody to say otherwise. Sally arrived after I’d killed Tony, I lied about that, I said she was in the house earlier. When she picked up the knife, I knew I’d be in the clear. It’s our knife anyway, our prints would have been all over it. And she made me help her move the bodies, we were both covered in blood, you saw us.’
‘What about Jem? Whose idea was that?’
‘She was mad, Pete. She went crazy when she saw the bodies in the house. She had that bloody gun too. She was waving it around like a mad woman. She kept accusing me of sleeping with Jem, like we were having an affair. She forced me to tie Jem up like that.’
I had no words. I just looked at her. We’d left that family without a mother. Sally had taken the blame for everything.
‘I don’t know what to say, Meg ...’
‘You don’t need to say anything, Pete. It won’t come back to haunt me, it’s all done and dusted as far as the police are concerned. Nobody can contradict me, they’re all dead. But I’m so sorry about Sally, she didn’t deserve that.’
‘What if Sally had put the gun down? What if she hadn’t jumped?’
‘It was my word against hers. And besides, it would have been self-defence. When he touched me like that … I couldn’t help myself. I’m not proud of what I did, Pete, but I didn’t feel I had a choice. I had to tell someone, though. I had to let you know. You won’t say anything, will you? I know I can trust you.’
I wouldn’t say anything. Who was I to blame her for what she’d done? She hadn’t made Sally jump off the roof of the cathedral. And, if truth be told, Jem got what he deserved. I hadn’t made any effort to help him. I could have done, but I chose to help Meg instead. It was horrible, but then how many lives had he wrecked?
‘I’ll keep quiet, Meg, don’t worry. We’ve all had enough now. This needs to end. I’m sorry I did what I did. I love you, Meg, I have since the minute we met. I’m just sorry. For everything.’
‘I love you too, Pete, but I have to do this. We’ve hurt each other too much. I can’t be with you right now.’
She squeezed my arm and turned to walk away.
‘Bye Pete.’
‘Goodbye Meg.’
As she walked by the open graves, she turned and looked sadly at Sally’s.
‘I’m sorry Sally, I’m so sorry.’
She then turned to the hole in the ground where Jem lay. She spat into his grave. ‘Fuck you, Jem, you ruined everything!’
She didn’t look back. She just kept walking. I watched her walk out of the cemetery, using the exit at the furthest end.
That was the last I heard of her. Until I received a postcard one year later ...
Find out more about Paul J. Teague’s thrillers at http://paulteague.co.uk
The Murder Place
Don’t Tell Meg Trilogy Book 2
Chapter One
There would be more deaths to come because of what happened in that house. Something had been set in motion which hadn’t yet found its end. As the couple walked past the three battered For Sale boards, their interest was not in finding a new place to live but in getting a look inside.
The hedge was overgrown, brambles had begun to work their way through the thickening undergrowth, ready to strangle anything that dared to resist. The gravel driveway was overrun with weeds, the paintwork was starting to flake, and the windows were covered with a film of dirt where they hadn’t been cleaned in months.
To the casual passer-by, this might have been a place where an elderly couple had once lived; it had the feel of a home once dearly loved but now sadly neglected. Perhaps they had died and the house had been put on the market by children who lived miles away and wanted to get it off their hands.
The estate agent’s car was in the drive. At least they wouldn’t have to wait around. It was August, but you wouldn’t have known it other than from the unbridled growth of anything that had roots. It was wet, chilly and grey. They were wearing light jackets and carrying an umbrella. This was British summertime after all.
They could see that the front door was slightly ajar. Six months previously that would have been a clue as to what was happening inside, but now it was nonthreatening, a simple sign that they were expected and that they’d arrived on time.
The couple took a moment to survey the front garden. A normal couple, it would seem. He had dark hair and a well-groomed beard. Although he was dressed for the weather, it was obvious that he was very well built under those layers of clothing. The edges of tattoos could be seen p
eeking from beyond his collar and sleeves, his hands were patterned too. This man was no office worker, he was strong and oozed physicality. She had stunning red hair and a small tattoo on her neck. She was confident and attractive, a good match for her companion. They looked like regular house hunters, a young couple doing the rounds of the homes that were for sale.
They scanned the house from the end of the gravel drive. The grass had been overpowered by weeds, which were now almost waist high. The blooms of roses and shrubs made stifled cries from the sea of greenery, but they’d soon be swallowed up, and what was left of a garden would disappear.
It was as they’d heard it described: abandoned, unloved, rejected. The previous occupants had left the house and their former lives and moved away. He was still local, living on a caravan site, they’d heard. She was gone. She’d not been seen since the funeral. Everybody assumed that it had been too much for the marriage. How could you live through something like that and everything stay the same? People had heard that she was pregnant, but there was no proof of that. Only a rumour.
‘Hello! Mr Elliot?’
The man took the lead, pushing the door open and calling up the hallway. To the side of the door was a pile of post, free newspapers, leaflets and charity bags. The estate agent must have retrieved them from below the letterbox.
Mr & Mrs P Bailey, Mr P Bailey, Ms M Bailey, Mrs Meg Bailey ... there was every combination of name on the envelopes. All untouched, all unopened. For a moment he considered taking one of the envelopes as a souvenir. Was that illegal? It would be easy to take one which was obviously junk mail, nobody would notice that. It would be doing everybody a favour.
He could hear a voice from the kitchen. It wasn’t Glenn Elliot the estate agent. It was a woman, making a viewing arrangement with another person on her mobile phone.
Don't Tell Meg Trilogy Box Set Page 24
