Dad rubbed his eyes. “I was treating a young girl, eight years old, whose behaviour was out of control. She was excluded from school and her father simply couldn’t cope. I spent some time with her and discovered her behaviour stemmed from something horrific she had witnessed. Something she couldn’t make sense of but which at the same time troubled her.”
“Did you help her make sense of what she saw?” said Annie.
Dad hung his head. “No,” he muttered. “The gravity of the situation demanded I report it to someone senior. It just so happens that, at the same time, the allegation was made about me and I had to go.”
“Who did you leave to sort things out?” asked Annie.
“Why Frank, of course.”
“Ah!” said Annie, her eyes narrowing. “So, you left Frank to sort out the allegation and deal with the traumatised patient.” She paused. “And did he?”
“Did he what?”
“Sort out your patient.”
“I wouldn’t know. It wasn’t my business. I handed over all the notes, but I believe it became a matter for the police.”
“Only it never did become a matter for the police because Frank kept it within the family,” said Annie.
Dad frowned. Annie jerked her head at me, and I took out the photo of the girls from my folder and pushed it towards Dad.
“What am I looking at?” he asked.
I tapped the corner of the picture. “Do you recognise the girl?”
“Yes. It’s the girl I treated. It’s Mary.”
“Look closer Dad,” I said pushing the photo right under his nose. The blob of Blu Tac fell off the back and onto the table.
“It’s not Mary, Dad,” I said. “It’s Lily and that’s her sister, Grace.”
Dad’s jaw fell open.
“You treated Lily, Dad, and after she told you what she saw, her father killed himself. Grace thinks you are responsible for her Dad’s death. Nine years later Lily and Grace came into your – our – lives. It’s not a coincidence.”
“You…you can’t possibly think they had something to do with Amelie’s death?” said Dad, his voice cracking.
“What did Lily see?” asked Annie.
Dad paused. “She saw a body in a lake. She thought it was a dead mermaid. She called the creature Myrtle.”
“Shit,” I said. “Shit, shit, shit.”
“It sounds like Frank wanted you out of the way to avoid a family scandal,” said Annie. “Perhaps he confronted James who then killed himself, either way, it would appear that Grace and, by default, Lily, hold you responsible for his death and all this time Grace has been out for revenge.”
“But…but why kill Amelie?” Dad couldn’t stop shaking his head. “Why not me or why not have a go at Flo? It’s so…calculated. Grace just isn’t like that.”
“I think Grace’s behaviour is all an act,” said Annie. “I’ve had my suspicions about her for a while. There were a couple of things she did which don’t match her public persona although they aren’t enough to prove anything. Think. Did you have any misgivings about her?”
Dad put his hands together like he was praying. “We had sex the night before all the fish died. She started off very keen,” he wriggled in his seat and cleared his throat a couple of times, “but quite soon, it got a bit weird.”
“What do you mean weird?” asked Annie.
I stared at the floor.
“She wanted me to, er…be forceful. Smack her, that kind of thing.” He paused and took a sip of coffee. “And after it was over, she lay there crying and calling out for someone named Gil. I was angry and a bit disgusted. A bit jealous too – I suppose. I wanted to know who this Gil person was.” He drained the rest of his coffee. “We had a massive row and I asked her to sleep in the spare room. I couldn’t figure out what had just happened. It was weird. The next day I was going to talk to her about it, but then everything started crashing down around me and the chance never arose. In the end she finished with me.”
“She killed the fish, I know it,” I said. “She was breathless when she came running into the bedroom and her clothes were already wet. And, now I come to think of it, there was pondweed on the floor. Lily wanted to tell me. I know she did.” I couldn’t stop the tears rolling down my face. “But I didn’t listen and now it’s too late. Grace drugs her to the point where she sometimes doesn’t know if it’s day or night.”
Dad sighed. “Lily didn’t need medication. She needed therapy. My treatment of her involved a type of hypnotism which allowed her to bury her bad memories until she was ready to confront them. I passed on all my notes to Frank, but I guess he never acted on them.” He shuddered. “I dread to think what impact these supressed thoughts have done to Mary’s, I mean, Lily’s mind.”
“Is there anything we can do to help her?” I asked.
Dad shook his head. “I set a physical trigger and there’s no way you can get to her hidden memories without it.”
“What do you mean? What trigger?” asked Annie.
“We hid her bad thoughts in a lockable casket, and I was in charge of the key which I handed over to Frank along with her notes. It was an ornate, old-fashioned key – its head shaped like a spider’s web. God knows what he’s done with it.”
I picked up the ball of Blu Tac on the table and rolled it between my fingers. Something sharp jabbed into my skin. I pulled at the stretchy material – there was something inside.
It was a gold, tear-shaped earring with the letter A in its centre.
Chapter Thirty
Grace
My mind was churning as I pedalled along the dirt track. Nina’s Mulberry bag dangled from the handlebars of my bike, scratching my left knee as it swung back and forth. I would dispose of it when I got to town; throw it into one of those huge steel dustbins which sat in the back alley behind the fish and chip shop. I decided to spend every last penny from Nina’s purse – the revolting woman’s untimely arrival had forced a change of plan and we would need provisions if we were going to survive the next few weeks.
A soft breeze whistled past my ears as though trying to sweep the thoughts from my mind, but now that I had found him, the events of my youth shone clearer with each passing second. They sat side by side with the here and now, so I was no longer sure what was real and what was wishful thinking.
***
We never spoke about what happened on the jetty almost a decade ago.
I remembered hearing Cassie screaming and screaming. We dashed out towards the lake and saw the little girl lying on the decking, peering down at Gil’s bloated face which stared up at her from beneath the surface of the water. Uncle Frank, who happened to be staying for supper, told me to take my sister back into the house, lock her in her bedroom then hurry back with an axe from the shed. When I returned, Daddy and Frank were standing next to an empty tea chest. Daddy was trembling.
I remembered the thud as the axe fell and how the moonlight danced on top of the puddles of black blood. After the first blow Daddy crumpled into a heap on the floor and Frank snorted at him, rolled up his sleeves, wrestled the axe out of Daddy’s grip and finished the job.
It took all three of us to lift the trunk and drop it into the lake.
The next morning when I looked in the mirror, my hair had turned white.
Cassie became my responsibility and I encouraged her to return to her feral ways; and soon she was spending every waking moment in the woods with nothing but her imaginary friends for company. As for what she had seen down by the lake – we told her it was just a bad dream.
Daddy took refuge in drink and drugs, but no one really noticed a change. Cookie, having grown up serving the aristocracy, took his behaviour as quite the norm. Somehow, he managed to muddle through his day job thanks to Frank and a great team of admin staff who worked better when he wasn’t at Whitehall.
Before long Frank had taken complete charge of the estate and moved into Aldeburgh House and we were coping but then social services came calling about Cassie’s exclusion fr
om school, and Frank had to act. Desperate to avoid a public scandal, Frank assessed Cassie himself and decided to hand her over to one of his junior doctors who was working at his new psychiatric clinic. Courtesy of pharmaceutical giant Zolis, they were trialling a new brand of sedative which he figured would be just the thing to numb Cassie’s wilful spirit.
One early autumn evening, I tiptoed down the back staircase. I was on my way to the pantry to steal a slice of Cookie’s Bakewell Tart, my favourite, and take it back to eat in my bedroom. I had to cross the hall and as I crept past the study, breathing in the vanilla scented smoke of Frank’s cigar, I heard raised voices coming from within. Something in the frantic tone of Daddy’s speech made me stop.
“You’re trying to tell me that Cassie actually told someone she saw a dead body in the lake?” Daddy’s voice had an almost operatic edge to it.
“James, James. Just calm down,” replied Frank. There was a squeak as chair legs scraped across the parquet floor accompanied by the gentle hiss and crackle of new wood burning on the open fire.
I moved closer to the door and peered in through a slender gap. Daddy had his arms around an empty wing-backed chair whilst Frank sat on the opposite side of the hearth rug, legs outstretched, sipping dark liquid from a small crystal glass. “Cassie told the doctor that she saw a dead mermaid floating in your lake.” Frank smacked his lips together then laughed.
“Fuck!” said Daddy, leaning his brow onto the edge of the chair. He looked up at Frank, his cheeks flushed. “What am I going to do?”
Frank took a long drag of his cigar and tapped the side of his glass with his long fingernail. “I will take care of the doctor. Tom Marchant is a newbie; a bright young thing. In fact, he was one of the few students who took it upon himself to try a different mode of treatment not sponsored by Zolis. Ha! Ha!” Frank’s laugh rattled around the back of his throat and morphed into a cough. “Who would have thought my safe-housing theory actually worked.” His laughter continued and he stared at the fireplace; irises gleaming white as he watched the flames dance. “What is it with these doctors who want to look outside the candy store when there is so much already available to them? With the dose they’ve put her on Cassie will quieten down and most likely forget about the mermaid altogether. Or else it will be confined to her lost thoughts, only available in her darkest moments.” He grunted. “Either way, she will become pliable. It’s a shame about Tom really. He showed promise, but it’s clear he can’t follow instructions. I’ll see to it that a complaint comes his way and warn him that he needs to disappear for the time being.”
Daddy sniffed and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. “Won’t…won’t he say something to the police?”
“No. I’ll tell him I’ve got things in hand. In the meantime, he doesn’t know anything about Cassie – her real name or that she’s related to you.” He paused then lowered his voice. “I’ll make it go away, James. I always do.”
Daddy got to his feet and perched on the edge of the armchair, spreading his hands across his knees. “Will Cassie have to stay on this medication for the rest of her life?”
Frank drained his glass. “For the foreseeable future, I suppose. Otherwise the image might resurface. Tom said he only partially recovered the memory, so goodness knows what else she’s got hidden in there.” He tapped the side of his temple.
Daddy opened his mouth then closed it again. The grandfather clock in the corner of the room chimed ten times, filling the room with loud clanging. For a few seconds afterwards the residual note lingered in the air. “It’s no good Frank. I can’t go on like this. I’ve got to get out of the mess I’m in. I think I should resign.”
“What?” said Frank, his voice sharp.
Daddy gulped. “I think, considering what you’ve just told me, I should quit. I should take Cassie away from here and move on, go abroad, try to make a fresh start.”
“Now, just one minute,” snapped Frank. “It’s no good having a parenting crisis now. Moving to the South of France won’t miraculously make you a better father. You’ve damaged those kids for good. You have to stay and face the consequences of your actions.” Daddy hung his head, his floppy fringe falling into his eyes. Frank stood up and pointed his index finger. His body quivered. “I’ve worked very hard on forging a relationship with your government and Zolis. They have provided very nicely for us and I don’t intend to let you walk out on this until the final deal is struck and all because you couldn’t control your sexual urges.”
Daddy sank onto his knees and buried his head in his hands. “I’m sorry, Frank, I know you are only trying to help, it’s just…”
Frank’s silver eyes narrowed as he looked down on James’ crumpled body; a sneer at the corner of his mouth. “There, there, dear boy. Maybe there is something more I can do to shoulder the burden for you. For instance, if you were to temporarily sign over the estate–”
I stumbled forwards and the door made a loud creak.
“Come in, dearest one,” said Frank without turning his head. Daddy’s body went rigid and he stared down at the rug, refusing to catch my eye. I walked into the centre of the room and bowed my head. “Daddy’s just off to bed, aren’t you?” continued Frank in a sing-song voice. “There’s a good fellow. I tell you what, I’ll get Emily to bring you up a nice cup of sweet tea in a minute. How about that?”
Daddy didn’t answer and crept out of the room.
Frank pointed at the doll’s house which had been placed next to the bookcase. I sank into a cross-legged position and began my usual job of rearranging the little figures within.
He took a drag of his cigar and exhaled slowly. “That’s my girl. You sit down and have a little game. What are you playing this time?”
“Hospitals.”
After a few minutes Frank knocked a block of ash into a heavy glass bowl which was already overflowing with Daddy’s half smoked cigarettes. “Were you standing at the door for long?” he asked, giving me a sidelong glance.
I didn’t reply.
Frank’s tongue darted out and swept over his front teeth. “It’s alright dear, you’re not in trouble, but you know you must always tell me the truth. You know how much I love you.” He flexed his fingers and flattened his palm – a gentle reminder of his method of administering justice.
I gulped and gave a quick nod.
“So, you heard that your father wants to run away with Cassie?”
“Yes.”
“That is a terrible blow, isn’t it? That he wants to leave us, well specifically you, behind and make a fresh start.”
The room went fuzzy.
“No need for tears, dearest. Uncle Frank won’t let it happen. It’s just that your father…” He gave out a great sigh. “It’s just that he blames you for what happened.” Frank rose to his feet and reached for the decanter sitting on the sideboard. “I don’t. If anything, he is the one to blame, carrying on in that disgusting manner.” He sloshed the port into his glass and raised it to eye level, swirling the liquid around the glass. “But technically you were the one who killed his lover… so you can understand why he might not want to be around you anymore. You see, you have become a daily reminder of what happened that terrible day. You are a sort of human punishment for him.” Frank took a sip of port and smacked his lips together.
The tears were rolling down my cheeks and they splashed onto the polished floorboards.
“Now, don’t you fret, my dearest, because clever Uncle Frank has a plan to win him around. We – specifically you, are going to make it so he never wants to leave.” Frank rubbed his hands together and chuckled. “Now off you go into the kitchen and take him up a nice cup of tea and make sure you put plenty of sugar in it. It’s good for the nerves. But first a special hug.”
As I left the room, Frank took a peek inside the doll’s house.
“Heavens child,” he gasped. “What in God’s name has happened to all the dolls?”
***
My phone pinged, snapping me o
ut of my daydream; a burst of texts and emails. I scrolled through them, deleting as I went. None of them were important but then I noticed a couple of messages from that bitch Annie Harper telling me there was something wrong with my statement. Either she could come to me or I could meet her at a convenient location. Fuck – I couldn’t ignore this.
Chapter Thirty-One
Lily
I stared at my fingers, now tacky and crimson. Tiggy had her tail between her legs and was whimpering, her ribcage quivering like crested waves on a patch of open sea. My head was spinning – I didn’t know what to do – my flight instincts had been turned upside down. A few minutes ago, I had resolved to sprint to the nearest police station and turn myself in. Get the hell away from this horrible place, but now my feet stayed planted in the garden of Toad Cottage. Tiggy’s appearance brought with it the suggestion that something terrible was waiting for me in the shadows and I had no alternative but to face it, or as Flo would put it – ‘grow a pair.’
But Grace could return at any moment and each rustle, snap or chirp of a bird burned onto the tops of my ears. My body was screaming out for sleep, but the blood couldn’t be ignored. Could it? The little creature was daubed with the stuff and a swift fingertip investigation had proved it wasn’t hers. I tried to convince myself Tiggy had come across some sort of wild animal and fought with it, but it was too much of a stretch even for my imagination – there wasn’t a scratch on her. If she had been devouring a dead pheasant or a rabbit carcass, she wouldn’t be shaken. I scratched the underside of her toffee coloured ear and whispered, it’s okay.
In the end, Tiggy took the matter out of my hands and forced the decision. She shook her head and trotted back to the undergrowth then she stopped, one of her front paws suspended mid-air, and turned her head towards me. She barked and the sound, like a volley of machine gun fire, was sucked into the gaps between the swaying ash trees.
My flight instincts were now piqued by a morbid curiosity which wouldn’t disappear until I had seen the source of the blood. The wood itself ran parallel to the track which I figured must lead onto a road. Although drugged at the time, I had been driven here by car and the mystery female visitor had also arrived by a vehicle of some sort. So, I consoled myself with the knowledge that if I were running away, this would be the direction I needed to take.
The Cry of the Lake Page 20
