by Agatha Frost
By her own admission, the police had interviewed Debra repeatedly when Terry first vanished, and her home searched multiple times. They never found anything, and with no clear evidence to suggest Terry wasn’t alive somewhere, they dropped the lead. Debra hadn’t offered much in the way of useful information when Barker first took on the case and pulled on that same lead. Like Stacey, she’d only said he was there one day, and gone the next.
“Why didn’t you mention anything about the divorce earlier?” he asked.
“Because it didn’t seem important?” Stacey said almost defensively. “It was just talk. Even then, I didn’t think he’d go through with it. He was the sort of man who would just go along to get along.” She pulled another note off the wall. “Although you’ve got one thing right. She did ask me to keep her affair secret when I was a kid. I think my dad knew, but I didn’t want to be the one to hurt him like that, so I kept my promise. That’s not the reason we aren’t close, though. We’ve never really been close.”
“Why not?” Barker pushed.
“She’s always been . . . too much.” She sighed as though conflicted about even admitting it. “Suffocating. Dad always said we were like chalk and cheese. I couldn’t wait to move out, but even when I did, she still wouldn’t give me space to be myself. She wanted to be involved in every decision, to control everything. I consciously put distance between us. I needed it. I wasn’t close to my dad because I wasn’t close to her. I actually like” – she paused and corrected – “liked him.”
The mention of her father brought a fresh stream of tears. She wiped them away and sat at the table. She dragged her fingers through her dark hair as she gnawed at her bottom lip.
Julia took the box of tissues off the sideboard and placed them on the table as she lowered herself into the chair next to Stacey’s. Stacey pulled one out with a grateful smile and dabbed at her face.
“Before I joined the book club,” Stacey continued once she’d steadied her breath, “she always mocked it. Reading was too personal a thing to discuss with strangers, she’d say. She only joined because I joined, and . . . well, it was a good excuse to see her regularly without having to spend too much time alone with her. I know how cruel that sounds. Some people would do anything to have their mothers in their lives. But whenever I let her in, she tries to take over. She did the same with my dad, making every decision for him like he was a child. He hated it, but he’d had a lot longer to get used to it.”
Barker sat across from Stacey, debating whether he wanted to speak the words on the tip of his tongue.
“If you’re sure your mother lied to us,” Julia asked, taking the words from his mouth, “why do you think she would do it?”
“Attention?” Stacey shrugged. “Sympathy? All the usual reasons she lies about things.”
“I think I have a different theory.” Gulping, he looked at a note he’d made under Kerry’s section. “Debra was the first to tell the police, and then us, about Lynn’s blackmail. What if her confession about the blackmail was true, but the reason wasn’t?”
“Why would she admit to being blackmailed if she was going to lie about why?” Stacey asked. “That makes no sense.”
“Exactly,” he said in a low voice as he leaned across the table. “If she confesses to being blackmailed by someone who has just been murdered, it makes her a prime suspect. But the reason behind the blackmail? It’s pretty timid compared to the others, no offence.”
“None taken,” she said. “But I don’t think I’m following.”
“Maybe Debra knew she wasn’t the only one in the club suffering at Lynn’s hand?” Julia suggested. “The blackmail would be uncovered eventually, and it would only shine a light on everyone else.”
“Precisely my point,” Barker said. “What if the real reason your mother was being blackmailed was so terrible she thought she had to get ahead of the story? She bit the bullet and blew open the idea that Lynn was blackmailing people, while also offering a fictional reason for that blackmail to throw the police off her scent. It’s not like Lynn could come back and tell the truth for her.”
Stacey stared silently through the window at the dark blanket of rain, expression frozen.
“You think she killed my dad?” Stacey asked, blinking herself back to the present. “There are plenty of other things she could have been trying to keep secret.”
“A valid point,” he agreed with a slow nod, “but by your own admission, your father never confronted your mother about divorce. You also said she was clinging to him. And yet, she told us they were separated, and she’d already moved on. Those two versions of events are very much at odds.”
“Was Lynn really your mother’s cleaner?” Julia asked.
“Dad hired her,” she said in a voice barely above a whisper. “He and Mum worked every hour at the shop together, and he couldn’t keep on top of things at home. Mum would never do anything. I recommended Lynn because I knew her through the club. That was back when I thought she was . . . normal.”
“The best lies come from truth,” Barker said, staring Stacey firmly in the eyes. “What if Lynn did find something at your mother’s house? What if . . . what if your father did confront your mother about divorce, and the reason you never found out was because it was the last thing he ever got to do?”
Stacey’s mouth opened and closed as unintelligible murmurs escaped her lips.
“And you think she killed Lynn,” she finally croaked, “to keep that murder a secret?”
Barker nodded solemnly, unable to take any pleasure in finding a possible resolution to both cases. During his police training, he’d always thought solving a case would be the most satisfying feeling in the world. Sometimes, it was. Most of the time, facing the people left behind was an all too sobering experience, a reminder of the lives left behind after death. He hadn’t missed this part.
“What now?” Stacey asked, breaking a stuffy silence.
“It’s still only a theory,” Julia reminded them. “We shouldn’t get ahead of ourselves. We could have the wrong end of the stick.”
“Then we need proof,” Barker said. “Proof that will bring about a conviction no matter what she says.” He paused, remembering what they’d found in the basement at Kerry’s. “Have you talked to DI Christie in the past twelve hours?”
“He called this morning. He said he had something to tell me, but that it could wait when I asked if it was urgent. I wanted to do my rounds first.” She turned to Julia and smiled. “Didn’t want to let people down, and I wasn’t in the mood for more bad news.”
“Then this next question might not make any sense,” he said, already regretting what he was about to say. “Do you know if your mother had a freezer? A big one? Big enough to keep a body?”
13
Julia
When the rain eased off, Barker and Stacey left in search of hard evidence to back up the theory they’d so quickly cobbled together.
Julia was more than happy to stay at home. She let Barker give his long speech about not putting herself in unnecessary danger – not that it was needed, but she suspected it made him feel better. After yesterday, she was more exhausted than she could ever remember.
The first few months of pregnancy had been the roughest, what with morning sickness and mood swings. In comparison, the middle had been somewhat of a breeze. Those who knew better had warned her of ‘third-trimester tiredness’, and they hadn’t been lying. As exciting as the whole pregnancy process had been, she could hardly remember how it felt to not be carrying around an organ-mushing weight. Somehow, the baby felt heavier since the false labour scare.
Despite the itch to chase the lead, Julia made herself a cup of peppermint tea, put her feet up on the pouffe and let the crackling fire warm through her fluffy bed socks. She flicked on the television as Mowgli settled in her lap after a few circles and was glad to see the smiling faces of Holly and Phil.
While scribbling the cooking segment’s recipe for a marmalade bread and butt
er pudding on the back of an envelope, she heard a key slotting into the door. Mowgli sprang up and scuttled under the bed to hide.
“That was quick,” she called, barely taking her eyes off the screen. “Didn’t find anything?”
“Find what?” Dot asked as she hurried into the sitting room wrapped in a floor-length, cream wool coat. A plastic bag hung from the crook of her arm. “Oh, Julia, you’re not watching these two, are you? They send me around the bend. Can barely get through a segment without laughing like school children over some silly innuendo. You’d never have got away with that in my day. Mary Whitehouse would have had it whipped off the air at the drop of a hat!”
“They’re my telly friends,” Julia said, pulling herself from her slouch. “And before you say it, yes, I know that sounds slightly pathetic.”
“Well, I’m glad you said it.”
“Without the café’s routine, seeing the same faces every weekday has given me some continuity.”
“I suppose it’s nice that you’re relaxing,” she said, pursing her lips at the telly as the presenters laughed at something Julia had missed. “I had visions of you clinging to that café counter until the second you went into labour. Just don’t get too used to it. You’re in for a decade of children’s television, and that will drive you mad. Your father was obsessed with The Flintstones.” She shuddered. “Oh, I honestly could have strangled him every time he said ‘yabba dabba doo’.”
“I think strangling your kids is frowned upon these days,” she said. “Shall I put the kettle on?”
“Can’t stay long. I had to visit the charity shop since Percy split his pants picking up the post this morning. Found you some more baby bits.” She rooted around in the bag. “Not newborn stuff, either. That’ll stop fitting in the blink of an eye. Waste of money if you ask me. Should be a rule that you keep them in baby grows until they finish growing.”
“So, about fourteen years old, then?”
“Very funny,” Dot said with a squint. “I’ll put these with the rest.”
Dot marched into the nursery, and Julia levered herself upright using the arms of the soft chair. Leaping out of chairs was something else she missed, come to think of it.
“Oh, you finally finished it,” Dot exclaimed. “I was starting to think you expected the baby to sleep on the picture of the cot on the outside of the box, though you’ll be better off putting it in your room for the first few months.”
“Already planning on it,” Julia said, hands on her hips as she took in the room. “It all came together in the end.”
They’d given the room a total makeover, leaving it unrecognisable as once Jessie’s bedroom and the guest bedroom before that. The dated wallpaper that had been up since before Julia bought the cottage had finally gone. Pale creamy yellow covered the bottom half of the walls, separated by a crisp line from the white on the upper half. They’d planned to re-carpet, but Sue and Katie had suggested laminate for easy cleaning, so they’d opted for a neutral greyed wood shade. To save Julia’s feet on cold mornings, a large fluffy rug filled most of the space.
The cot, wardrobe, and changing table were all gleaming white, and an already full toy chest had been painted in every shade of the rainbow. Compared to the rest of the cottage, the nursery looked somewhat modern.
“The walls are surprisingly smooth,” Dot said, running her hand over one.
“You can thank Alfie for that,” she said. “Asked him about the easiest way to strip wallpaper, and he was here with his tools within the hour. He insisted on re-plastering the whole room and wouldn’t take a penny for it.”
“He’s a good lad,” she said, dropping the bag on the heap of baby shower gifts that had yet to be sorted and put away. “Turned up at the cottage as I was leaving. He seemed a little off. Said he needed to talk to Percy about the flat. I hope he’s not asking for cheaper rent. He’s getting a bargain there.”
“He’s decided to go travelling again,” she revealed.
“Oh, fantastic,” Dot said with a tut. “There goes our cruise fund. We’ve been putting that money aside every month.” She looked down, sucking in her cheeks. “And I’ll miss him, of course. I grew quite fond of him when he lodged with me. How has Jessie taken it?”
“She was going to go with him, but she’s decided to stay behind.”
“You don’t seem happy about that?”
“I-I’m not sure I am.” She looked around the room, easily recalling Jessie’s presence from her time there. “The thought of Jessie not being around terrifies me. I wanted nothing more than for her to come home when she spent that month in Australia last year, but . . . but . . .”
“You also know it helped her grow.”
Julia nodded as Dot took the words right from her mouth.
“I went through the same thing when you left Peridale to live in London with your awful first husband,” Dot said, making a face. “As badly as that turned out, you experienced life. Take it from someone who has spent her whole life in this village – it did you a world of good. You knew what you wanted from life, and you went for it. And now look at you. I couldn’t be prouder, dear.”
“Thanks, Gran,” Julia said, smiling as thoughts of the years since flashed through her mind. “When Alfie asked her to go with him, she didn’t hesitate to say yes.”
“And then she talked herself out of it?”
“That’s what it sounds like,” she said as they left the nursery. “She’s come up with a list of reasons to stay as long as her arm, but they felt more like excuses for not admitting she wanted to go.”
“She’s nineteen,” Dot said with a soft smile. “Still in the in-between bit. Thinks she’s all grown up but not quite mature enough to know she isn’t there yet. She hasn’t experienced enough of life to know what she wants, not really. She had a tough start, but she’s settled now. A family, a job, a place to call her own.”
“That’s what she said.”
“I bet she never thought she’d have even those basic things. It’s nice to be comfortable, but if life has taught me anything, it’s that it’s hard to grow when you’re not experiencing anything new. Sometimes you need that kick up the behind. A good shakeup. Look at Percy. Who thought I’d get married again at my age?” She looked at her ring and smiled. “So, Alfie’s only going away for a year, you say?”
Julia nodded.
“There’s some hope for the cruise fund, then,” she said. “I take it you trust Alfie to look out for her?”
“More than anyone.”
Dot stepped onto the doorstep and stared off into the dreary distance, and Julia didn’t interrupt; she valued her gran’s knowledge too much.
“I was married and already had your father at her age,” she said, breaking the silence. “Mind you, I don’t regret those facts, and it’s not like I can change any of it. But . . . if by some miracle I woke up tomorrow at Jessie’s age knowing what I know today, I’d snatch a chance like this with both hands. No hesitation.”
Julia considered this for a moment. She’d taken a different opportunity at a similar age and naïvely followed a man to a big city. As tough as those years had been, that’s when she’d found herself.
“You know what you need to do, dear.” Dot stepped off the doorstep and onto the garden path. “Of course she wants to go. That girl has too much fire inside her to stay in a small village like this forever. That she agreed to go so readily shows she was willing to walk up to the edge. She was simply scared of what she saw when she peered over. Did you tell her it was okay to take the leap?”
“She didn’t ask if she could go,” Julia replied. “She decided without us. We didn’t know any of this until after the fact.”
“Of course she didn’t ask.” Dot smiled a knowing smile. “She doesn’t want to put you in that position. Have you discussed this with her since?”
“No,” she said, embarrassed by how much she’d internalised her worries. “It’s all so recent, but . . . I’m scared of pushing her away. I don�
��t want her to think I don’t want her around. It feels like Jessie has always been in my life, but how long has it really been? Not even three years. It feels like we’re making up for lost time.”
“That time was never yours,” Dot said. “I was sceptical when Jessie first joined our family, but I love her now like she’s my own flesh and blood. We had a similar conversation when you were unsure about Jessie’s decision to move out of here and into her flat.”
“I remember.”
“You said that your time living together didn’t feel like long enough, and do you remember what I told you then?”
“That it never feels like enough.”
“A fact that is still true,” she said, staring out into the countryside. “When someone you truly love comes into your life, you never want to let them go.” She turned to Julia. “You know you have to let go.”
“I know.”
“It’ll only be for a year,” Dot reminded her. “She’ll be home before you know it. And even if she isn’t, she’ll never truly be too far away. She idolises you. That much is obvious. Don’t let her love for you hold her back. A little nudge from you might be the one thing she needs without even realising it’s what she wants. And you never know, she might absolutely hate it and be on the first plane home!”
Julia laughed, wiping away a tear.
“But if she stays, if she doesn’t take that leap,” Dot said, her tone darkening, “you know she’ll regret it. Maybe not now, or tomorrow, or next year, but it’ll come out eventually. Hark at me! I sound like my therapist. I daresay she’s right about some—”
Dot stopped as a siren pierced through the countryside calm. Stepping out onto the cold doorstep, Julia pulled her dressing gown tight against the bitter wind. A fire engine careened from the direction of Peridale Farm and past the cottage in a blur of red and yellow. Across the lane, Leah’s curtains twitched.
