by Emma Curtis
I EXPECT ANNA TO GO ON THE OFFENSIVE, BUT INSTEAD she crumples. Toffee watches us, perfectly still, his ears pricked, as if he senses an impending catastrophe.
‘It wasn’t my fault,’ Anna says, her eyes filling with tears.
‘What wasn’t your fault?’
She sways, and I’m so worried that she’s about to either faint or have a panic attack that I pull her down on to the sofa. She doesn’t seem dangerous. The opposite, in fact. She seems fragile; as if she’ll break into a thousand pieces if I don’t hold her together.
‘Nick came round. Douglas let him in, and they got into a fight.’
As she tells me the story, I grow cold. I listen, my hand over my mouth, tears filling my eyes. I can’t believe what I’m hearing. Any last vestige of hope I might have had is gone. Anna is sobbing wildly. I suppose she wants my pity, but this is a mess of her own making, because of her vanity, her grudge-bearing, her own guilt.
‘Did he suffer?’ It sounds such a pointless thing to ask, because what’s she going to say? Yes, it hurt like hell, of course he bloody suffered, you idiot.
‘I don’t know,’ she sobs. ‘He just slumped. I think it was instant.’
I bite my bottom lip to keep from crying. ‘So it was Douglas who got rid of his body?’ My ribcage feels so tight I can barely breathe.
Anna tugs her cuff over the ball of her palm then uses it to dry her tears and wipe her nose. ‘Yes. I drew him a map of the grounds and woods. I thought I knew that place like the back of my hand. I must have made a mistake because the bag wasn’t where I expected it to be.’ She frowns, as if she still can’t believe this to be true. ‘I was agitated and panicking, and it’d been so long since I’d been there.’
I let her cry while I fetch a box of tissues. ‘We’re going to the police station.’
She blows her nose. ‘But what about Lottie?’
That pulls me up short. After what I’ve just heard, I’m not sure I want Douglas in sole charge. ‘No, you’re right. You’ll have to go on your own. Promise me you will.’
She nods, but she looks bereft, like I’ve abandoned her. She needs ordering around like a child, guiding to where she’s left her bag hanging over the back of a kitchen chair. She’s fighting with the zipper of her coat and I’m about to lose patience and help her, when the doorbell rings again.
‘Jesus,’ I say, grabbing Toffee and lifting him into my arms. ‘This place is like Clapham Junction.’
Anna’s eyes are huge. ‘Don’t answer it.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous.’ I leave her in the kitchen and go to the door, hoping it’s Marsh saving us a trip, but it turns out to be Douglas.
‘I thought we were meeting at the school,’ I say. Fear tightens my ribcage. I’m sure my voice will give me away. This is the man who colluded with Anna in the killing and disposal of my boyfriend.
Toffee whines and scrabbles at me so I let him go and he scampers back into the kitchen.
Douglas walks past me, without waiting for an invitation, saying over his shoulder, ‘I was early. We can walk there together.’
Anna is standing in front of the wall of windows, the sun creating a halo around her. Her face is a picture of guilt.
He raises his eyebrows. ‘Sorry. If I’d known you had company …’
‘You could have rung, Douglas,’ I point out. ‘Anna dropped in to say goodbye. We’ve been catching up.’
‘How cosy.’
‘We haven’t spoken for ages, have we, Anna? So it was a lovely surprise.’
‘What have you been talking about?’ Douglas addresses both of us, his smile fixed.
‘Oh, you know,’ I say. ‘The usual. Kids, schools and house prices.’
I turn my gaze to Anna, silently pleading with her to back me up. She swallows and forces a smile. ‘I’ve let my house,’ she says. ‘It’s time for a change.’
There’s a long silence. Douglas’s jaw works. ‘You always were a bad liar, Grace. And what about you, Anna?’ He walks over to her and cups her face in his hands. ‘What’s going on?’
I remember he used to do that to me if I was being stubborn. I can still feel the warmth of his palms, the pressure of his fingertips against my cheekbones, his thumbs firm against the corners of my mouth. I would try not to blink first but I always did, just as I know Anna will blink first now. I can feel the horror starting in my gut and spreading.
‘You don’t have to tell him anything.’
‘Mind your own business, Grace,’ Douglas says.
‘I …’ Anna falters.
‘Go on.’
‘I promise I didn’t tell her. She guessed. She knows we’re together.’
‘What exactly have you said?’
Anna dissolves and he lets her go with a sigh of scorn. She can’t speak and tears are rolling down her cheeks.
‘For God’s sake,’ I say. ‘It’s over, Douglas. I know what part you played in Nick’s death. I will never, ever forgive you for what you’ve done, and I’ll make sure you never see Lottie again.’
Before I can take evasive action, Douglas pushes me against the countertop and clamps his hand over my mouth. Anna edges slowly towards the table where I’ve left the phone, stretching out her hand until her fingers touch it. Toffee snarls.
‘Anna,’ Douglas says. His voice is steady. ‘If you call the police then it’s over. Do you understand? You have to make a choice now, and it’s important you make the right one. If you follow my instructions, then we can be together. Remember; this is your mess. I’ve only tried to help you.’
‘I don’t know,’ Anna says. ‘I’m not sure I can do this any more.’
‘Do you love me?’
My eyes widen as she nods, tears falling down her cheeks.
‘Then work with me. There’s no alternative, OK? She knows too much.’
My screams are muffled by his hand as he drags me across the kitchen, Toffee leaping and barking beside him. Douglas gives him a kick that sends him squealing back to his bed. I grab the door frame, my fingernails breaking against the wood.
‘Anna,’ he says sharply.
After hesitating she comes running, forces my fingers free, then grips my wrists as he pulls me backwards and up the stairs. Toffee comes back, yapping at Douglas, trembling like he did the day Lottie and I adopted him. Anna won’t look me in the eye, she just keeps moving, restraining me, until we’re in my bathroom. Shut out of the room, Toffee barks and barks.
Douglas tells Anna to run a bath, while he holds me pinned against him. His heart is racing as fast as mine. I struggle, but the arm he has round me is like iron and the hand across my mouth and nose makes it hard to breathe. The taps run, steam rising, and I panic like a bird caught in the jaws of a cat.
At a command from Douglas, Anna leaves the room and comes back with a sharp knife. She presses herself against the door, watching the water gush. She’s pale, wraithlike as her figure melts into the steam.
‘Don’t just stand there, get her boots off.’ Douglas’s voice cuts through the warm mist.
She drops to her knees and takes hold of my foot. I kick her in the shoulder; she springs back and tries again, tugging at my heel while I contort my body. Once both boots are off, thrown into a corner of the room, the two of them hold me down, my back pressed into the tiled floor, Douglas at my head, Anna at my feet, until he motions her to turn off the taps. Between the two of them, they get me into the bath and duck me underwater. I close my eyes, screaming and choking each time I manage to surface.
‘Jesus,’ Douglas snaps. ‘Keep her still.’
It turns out it’s not that easy to kill someone, especially if you want to make it look self-inflicted. It means he has to be careful not to slash me anywhere but on my wrists. I keep moving, fighting them for every scratch, every cut, making myself picture Nick and Lottie. I imagine their arms around me, their lips pressed against my cheeks. I remind myself of the wonder I felt when Lottie was born, of the long lashes draped against the translucent skin benea
th her eyes, her little mouth pursing, tiny fingers gripped around mine. I raise my chest, rocking from side to side, until Douglas finally loses patience and plunges my head under the water.
His hand is splayed across my face and my lungs are bursting. Through the noise of my breath bubbling to the surface, I hear a dulled, drawn-out ring. Douglas’s grip loosens, and I rise up with a yell. He shoves a wet flannel in my mouth to gag me. Water dribbles down the back of my throat, making me choke. Downstairs, Toffee is going crazy.
The bell rings again and again and, after it stops, all I can hear is the sound of my heart pounding. Toffee goes silent and despair sweeps through me, leaving me as weak as a baby. There’s a few seconds of blessed stillness, before Douglas jams the point of the knife clumsily against my wrist. For him, and for Anna, there is no going back. I briefly register the door opening before the sharp pain at my wrist takes over everything, making my vision blur.
ANNA
Friday, 15 June 2018
A BEARDED MAN WAS FRAMED IN THE DOORWAY, backlit by the light streaming through Grace’s bedroom windows. He lingered in that brief moment, as if someone had pressed the pause button. But maybe there was no moment. Maybe it was just in her mind that time stood still, because there was noise all around her: swirling, splashing, barking. And then everything started to move again – arms and legs flailing, water dyed pink with blood sloshing up the sides of the bath.
The stranger, who Anna had concluded was a plain-clothes police officer, grabbed Douglas by the collar and wrenched him away from Grace. Douglas lurched up, holding the knife in front of him, tripped over Toffee, who yelped, and landed on his knees beside the basin, his elegant limbs as graceless and awkward as those of a newborn calf.
Grace pulled the flannel out of her mouth and yelled, scrambling out of the bath and throwing herself at the stranger, her fists connecting with his shoulders as he reached for her. It was the mix of fury and relief that finally made the correct connection in Anna’s mind. This was no stranger, this was Nick. She ought to have recognized him.
‘You died,’ she whispered. ‘I saw you dead.’
She caught his expression when he glanced at her. Disbelief. Dislike. But all she felt was a relief so huge she almost burst out laughing. It was over and whatever happened to her now, whatever people were going to say about her, they wouldn’t be able to call her a killer. It wasn’t too late.
Douglas pulled himself up, roughly elbowing her out of the way to get to Nick. Anna dropped to a crouch, instinctively shrinking down into the gap between the loo and the bath, covering her head with her arms. In the confined space, hampered by tiles that were wet and slick, her lover and her childhood friend wrestled. She couldn’t bear to look, so she didn’t see when one of them hit the floor, but she felt a hand land against her foot. She opened her eyes a crack. The fingers were broad, not long and fine; Nick’s. Douglas was kneeling on Nick’s chest, his hands in his hair, pulling his head up, then whacking it down on the tiles. Grace hooked her arms around Douglas’s neck, but he rammed his elbow into her chest, sending her flying against the radiator. She slid down and started to crawl towards the door.
‘For fuck’s sake, Anna,’ Douglas yelled. ‘Don’t let her get away.’
Anna didn’t move, she couldn’t. She just wanted it all to stop. There was blood everywhere, great gobs of it, droplets and smears, some bright red, some diluted; the walls, the floor, the side of the bath, the basin pedestal; nothing had escaped. She closed her eyes, ducked her head and covered her ears with her hands, but she still heard what Douglas said. What he called her.
‘Move, you stupid cunt!’
She flinched. Pressed against the door, Grace looked ready to collapse, her face drained of colour, her hair bedraggled, dripping wet, blood all over her. Why hadn’t she left when she had the chance? The entreaty in her eyes was impossible to misinterpret.
Change sides.
Anna stood up and edged unsteadily past the two men. Nick made a grab for her ankle, but she kicked his hand away. His eyes rolled up as he lost consciousness. Douglas dropped him and tried to get up, but Grace draped herself over his back and clung on.
Reaching across the bath Anna picked up a bottle of shampoo and squirted some of its contents into her palms, then edged to the side and got down on her knees. She leaned in front of Grace, clamped her hands across Douglas’s eyes and rubbed cruelly, getting her soapy fingers right into the corners. He bellowed, and Grace twisted the knife out of his hand. The two women grasped his arms and hauled him out of the bathroom. Grace slammed the door, threw herself against it and shut the bolt.
‘Jesus!’
‘What do we do now?’ Anna said, panting. ‘We’re trapped.’
‘Oh fuck, I don’t know,’ Grace gasped, dropping to her knees beside Nick.
He was covered in blood, but it wasn’t his; it belonged to Grace. Anna glanced down at the smears on her own clothes. She could smell the iron tang of it. Beside her, Grace was beginning a slow slump to the right. Anna reached for the hand towel that hung beside the basin and wound it round Grace’s wrist, then leaned her against the side of the bath. The blood soon spread like a rose through the fabric.
‘Anna.’ Douglas banged his fist against the wooden panels. The door shuddered but held strong. ‘If you stay with them you’ll be sent to prison for attempted murder. You’ll lose Kai. You’ll lose everything.’
Anna snivelled, wiping her eyes on the back of her sleeve. ‘Go away.’
‘For Christ’s sake.’ He smashed at the door and one of the panels started to give, splintering. ‘Fuck you,’ he said. ‘You’ve screwed me over. You’re going to regret it. If I go down, so do you. And as for you, Grace; you always were a grasping little bitch; always on the lookout for a man to take care of you. The moment you saw Nick’s wallet, you were in there. Poor fucker.’ He shouted louder. ‘You didn’t stand a chance, mate.’
‘Stop it,’ Grace cried. ‘Shut up, Douglas. Leave us alone.’
‘Ignore him,’ Nick muttered, struggling on to his knees. He swayed, and Grace reached him, but he was too heavy for her and she collapsed under his weight.
Anna surveyed the scene: the floor flooded with blood and water; the petrified dog; the blood-soaked towel and the two people she had all but destroyed, lying entwined in the mess. She stood in front of the door with her feet apart, her arms heavy at her sides, took a deep breath and spoke.
‘It was me who persuaded Izzy to go into the river.’
Grace pushed herself up on her elbow. The banging on the door stopped, as if Douglas had heard.
‘I wanted Mum to be pleased with me for once. It was always Izzy and my brothers, never me. I wanted her to see me. Izzy was going to pretend to get into trouble in the water and I was supposed to save her. I told her not to get out of her depth, but she must have, or she lost her footing and got caught in the current. And I wasn’t there in time … I didn’t …’ Tears spilled from her eyes. ‘Your father was there, Nick. He kissed me. I was so staggered, I …’ She swallowed to get rid of the hard lump in her throat. ‘I thought I was in love with him.’
‘You let me believe it was my fault,’ Nick said.
‘You still frightened her.’ Her voice rose. ‘That was true. I just let you believe that was the only reason. You must have known deep down that you hadn’t done anything bad. But you still could have stopped her, you could have explained it was a nightmare, calmed her down.’
‘You could have taken responsibility.’
Grace lifted her head. ‘Stop it. Izzy is dead and nothing either of you say is going to bring her back.’
‘Anna.’ It was Douglas, calmer now, his tone placating.
At the sound of her name, Anna turned and put her cheek to the door.
‘Anna, I’m sorry. Let me in, and we’ll talk about this.’
‘Leave me alone.’
‘Baby.’ His voice was low, almost a caress. ‘Don’t you trust me?’
‘I can’t
.’
‘Yes, you can. Unlock the door. I won’t hurt any of you. I just want to talk. Please, Anna. Before it’s too late.’
‘Go away, Douglas,’ Grace shouted. ‘We don’t want you here.’
His fist crashed against the wood and Anna leapt backwards, frightened out of her skin. And then it wasn’t his fist. The edge of a cricket bat broke through the panel, splintering it. Douglas’s hand reached through as he felt for the bolt. Nick pulled himself up off the floor, grasped it and bent it back and Douglas screamed in pain. Nick signalled both women to be quiet. Anna held her breath and Grace did the same. They stared at each other, neither of them moving a muscle.
There. Anna heard it again. A siren.
‘It’s the police,’ Nick grunted, his shoulders relaxing. ‘I asked Mrs Jeffers to call them when I went for the spare key.’
The last thing Anna saw before she was led out of the room was Grace folding Nick into her arms, squeezing him hard, her face pressed into the crook of his neck. He wove his fingers into her hair and held her like his life depended on it. Anna dropped her gaze and turned away.
She and Douglas were put in separate cars. He refused to look at her and she assumed he thought she had done this on purpose, sabotaged his life, but she hadn’t. There was no real reason for any of it: that was the tragedy.
She glanced through the window as the car carrying Douglas pulled out first, overtaking hers. He was staring straight ahead. She tried not to look at him; he had used her, betrayed her and broken her heart, but she couldn’t help herself. She drank in his profile, memorizing it, imprinting it on her brain.
Where would she be if she had never met him? Would she and Nick have had a long conversation that night, putting both their worlds to rights? She imagined she was running downstairs to open the door to him, not Douglas. She would have offered him a glass of wine. He might have agreed to help, to undo the damage his father had done. Somewhere out there, there was a teenaged girl who connected them by blood. With Tim and Nick’s help they might have found her. She might look like Izzy.
