by Roberta Kray
‘Something could be going on that Esther doesn’t want other people to know about.’
Lolly wondered if that something could be as simple as Esther’s relationship with Jude. Even in these so-called liberated times, the age gap would still be frowned upon by many. He was, after all, almost young enough to be her son. But on reflection she didn’t think this was the reason. ‘If that’s the case, why let me stay? She could have made an excuse, said it wasn’t convenient.’
‘The million dollar question.’
They sat down on the wooden bench near the lake’s edge and gazed out across the water. It was quiet here and peaceful, but the tranquillity belied its history. Lolly still found it hard to believe that such dreadful things had happened in this place, murder and abduction, horrors that had ripped lives apart.
‘Perhaps you shouldn’t stay,’ Nick said. ‘It might not be such a good idea.’
But Lolly wasn’t backing out now. She hadn’t come all this way to turn tail and run at the first sign of trouble.
17
Monday 19 September. West Henby
Heather Grant had taken a risk, a big one, but she had no regrets. Sometimes you only got once chance and you had to grab it with both hands. She was not concerned with consequences and there was no punishment that could have deterred her. Once she had started off down the road, there had been no question of turning back.
Pushing Mal Fury to the point where he would jump had been the easy part. The evidence she’d gathered on Hazel Finch and her daughter had been compelling. She had sent some of it by post, enough to convince him that a face-to-face meeting would be worthwhile, and then presented the rest in a small visiting room with high windows and an oppressive atmosphere.
Seeing Mal for the first time had shaken her. It was not the same as looking at a photograph. This man was so much a part of her life and yet he had no idea. It had made her tremble just to think of it. She had furtively searched his face, his eyes, trying to read him, trying to understand who he really was. He had been charming, patient and polite, and she had been careful to never let her mask slip.
Slowly she had built up a picture for him – Hazel’s anxiety, her reluctance to discuss her daughter, her abrupt disappearance – before throwing in the news about Esther’s imminent departure.
‘It seems odd, don’t you think? I mean, why now? Why so suddenly? She never mentioned going away before. I could be wrong but I think she could have tracked down Hazel herself.’
‘If she had, why wouldn’t she tell you?’
‘Exactly. It doesn’t make sense. Not unless . . . It’s as though she wants to cut me out of the picture, cut both of us out. She knows I’m in contact with you. I’ve told her that. What if she has found Hazel, maybe even had Vicky tested. If the girl’s definitely not Kay, if she has the wrong blood group, then why not share the information, draw a line under the whole business?’
‘There’s no accounting for what Esther does or doesn’t do.’
‘Okay, but I don’t believe she’d keep quiet about this. What would be the point? I’d find out eventually. There’s something else going on. I’m sure there is. I mean, why doesn’t she want me at the house now? I’ve been coming and going for weeks and suddenly I’m persona non grata.’
Mal had frowned at this piece of information. ‘She won’t see you?’
‘I turned up a few days ago and she said she’d changed her mind, that she didn’t want to be involved with the book any more, that she was off to the States and that was that. It’s crazy. There hasn’t been a problem up until now. I asked if we could talk about it, but she wouldn’t even let me over the threshold. There were people inside. I could hear voices.’
‘It could have been anyone.’
‘That’s why I hung about for a while. I drove out and parked up in the lane. I waited for over an hour and eventually a car came out, Esther’s car. She was driving but she wasn’t alone.’ Here, Heather had paused for dramatic effect, lowering her voice so no one else could catch what she was saying. Then she had dropped the bombshell. ‘Look, I can’t put my hand on my heart and swear to it, not a hundred per cent, but I’m pretty sure she was with Vicky Finch.’
Once the seed had been planted all Heather had had to do was sit back and wait. It had come as no surprise to her that Mal had gone AWOL a week after her visit. What did surprise her, however, was that there was still no sign of him. How long did it take to get from Surrey to Kent? There were trains and buses but he’d need money for those. Still, he struck her as a resourceful sort of man. There were ways of getting hold of cash even inside prison.
She stood up, went over to the window and looked out across the vast garden. She’d lied to him, of course, about . . . well, quite a lot when she thought about it. But what the hell. It had been the only way to get him here, to make sure he was present for the big revelation. Everything was about to change and she was the one who would make it happen.
Her eyes grazed the lush green lawn, the rose bushes and the paths winding off in every direction. From between the trees she could even catch a glimpse of the lake. An ache ran through her. Esther hadn’t turned her away and never would so long as the possibility existed of her daughter being found. For a long time, Esther Fury had refused to hope but now her heart was slowly opening again.
Heather pondered on how different her childhood could have been. The people she’d believed to be her parents had been dour, strict and unyielding. God’s law was the only law and it was of the Old Testament variety. Disobedience was not to be tolerated and wrath was quick to follow. She had learned to keep her head down, to keep her thoughts and opinions to herself. She had learned patience and built resilience.
Henry and Edith Grant had not been mixers, keeping themselves to themselves, shunning society and all its evils. She had been raised in a home that might as well have been a prison, the list of things she wasn’t allowed to do far outweighing those that she was. Apart from the hours spent at school, she’d had no respite from the claustrophobic and suffocating atmosphere.
As she’d grown older, they’d continued to control every aspect of her life and it was only when she was seventeen, when Henry had died, that she’d finally begun to free herself from the shackles. She had, despite Edith’s objections, left Devon, done a short journalism course and managed to get herself a job as a trainee reporter on a North London paper. Liberated, she’d blossomed and developed, discovering the joys of friendships, of good food, fashionable clothes, music, alcohol and sex. For the first time in her life, she’d been happy.
All that had changed six months ago when Edith had succumbed to a fatal stroke.
Returning home, Heather had set about the business of clearing the house. This hadn’t been an arduous task: the house was small and the contents few. The Grants had not believed in accumulating material possessions. It was only when she’d come across the envelope lying at the back of a drawer – her stomach churned as she thought about it – that the truth had been revealed.
The facts, like a mighty earthquake, had shaken the very foundations of her life. Although they went some way towards explaining why she’d been treated as she had, the level of deceit both stunned and shocked her. It was the very worst kind of betrayal, flesh and blood turned to dust. She had gone through the contents of the envelope and wept.
Even now, the breath caught in the back of her throat when she recalled it. So many lies, so much treachery. She had not known what to do next. Her instinct had been to run straight away to Mal and Esther Fury, but something held her back. Perhaps it was only fear. She’d needed time to absorb everything, to readjust, to think of the best approach. It was then the idea of the book had come to her, a means to an end, a way of infiltrating their lives without revealing who she really was.
Heather could feel her heart thumping in her chest. She pressed her face against the coolness of the glass. ‘Where are you, Mal?’ she whispered. ‘Where are you?’
18
&
nbsp; Monday 19 September. West Henby
It was a surprise to Lolly to find not just Esther in the dining room when she and Nick entered at seven o’clock, but also Jude Rule and a very attractive girl she had never seen before. As Esther made the introductions, Lolly was startled to learn that the stranger was Heather Grant. Nods and smiles were exchanged, some of them more strained than others.
Jude was seated to Esther’s left, Heather to her right. When Nick took the seat beside Heather, Lolly had no choice but to sit beside Jude.
‘I thought you weren’t coming,’ he said in an almost sulky tone.
‘I changed my mind.’
‘And why was that?’
‘Why not?’ she replied with a shrug.
Esther glanced up. ‘There’s no need to interrogate the poor girl, Jude. She’s here, isn’t she? That’s all that matters.’
Lolly was tempted to ask why it mattered – it never had in the past – but decided now wasn’t the time for confrontation. Listen and learn, she advised herself. Let Esther think she was in control. All she had to do was play along and perhaps, eventually, everything would become clear.
Esther, Nick and Heather made small talk while they ate. There was cold chicken and ham, potatoes and salad. The crisp white wine flowed freely. Lolly studied Heather Grant whilst pretending not to, trying to gauge the girl’s character and form an opinion. She seemed pleasant enough, smart and amusing, at ease in her surroundings. But that didn’t mean much; charming people weren’t always what they appeared to be.
Jude, on the other hand, was definitely on edge. She wasn’t sure if this was down to her and Nick turning up out of the blue or if he had something else on his mind. His face had healed a little since their last encounter but his left eye was still circled by dark purplish bruises. He played with his food, shifting it around the plate, and refilled his glass before she had even taken a sip from hers.
While the others were discussing a recent film that had come out, Lolly leaned towards him and asked, ‘So when are you off to the bright lights?’
Jude’s gaze was on Esther and it was a few seconds before he transferred it back to Lolly. ‘Huh?’
‘I was asking when you were going to the States.’
‘It hasn’t been decided yet.’
‘But soon?’ she suggested.
‘That depends.’
‘On what?’
Jude stared at her. ‘What do you think? Everything’s up in the air at the moment.’
‘You mean, Mal? Or the Hazel Finch business?’
Jude didn’t answer. His gaze slid back to Esther, as though she might disappear, evaporate into the evening air, if he didn’t keep his eyes on her. Even while he was talking to Lolly his attention was elsewhere.
She tried a different question. ‘Are you living here now?’
‘It isn’t safe for Esther to be on her own, not at the moment, not with him out there. She needs protecting. He isn’t sane. You do understand that, don’t you? You think you know him but you don’t, not the real Mal Fury.’
Lolly thought that was rich coming from someone who barely knew him at all. Jude had probably spent less than a few hours in Mal’s company, and all his opinions had been coloured by the lies that came straight out of Esther’s spiteful and vindictive mouth. She was about to respond when she became aware of a sudden change in atmosphere at the table. The small talk had been dropped and the conversation had moved on to more controversial matters.
If Esther had been unaware of Nick’s connection to Stanley Parrish when he’d first arrived this afternoon, she’d certainly got up to speed since – courtesy of Heather, no doubt – and was currently holding forth on his uncle’s inadequacies. ‘I can’t lie,’ she said. ‘I never liked the man. I found him to be both incompetent and exploitative.’
Nick kept his composure, smiling thinly. ‘Well, I suspect he could have done a better job if he’d been apprised of the facts. Had he known about Teddy Heath’s confession, he could have tracked down Hazel Finch years ago. As it was, he was left in the dark.’
‘He was always in the dark, sweetheart,’ Esther said. ‘That was the problem.’
‘And whose fault was that?’
Esther gave him a long hard look before her eyes softened and she flapped a hand. ‘Oh well, let’s not fall out over it. It’s understandable you’d want to defend him. I am curious, though. Are you here in a professional capacity, trying to finish off your uncle’s work, or just as Lita’s boyfriend?’
Lolly started, not expecting her personal life to be drawn into this. She opened her mouth to refute the assumption, but then smartly closed it again. There was nothing going on between her and Nick, nothing more than a friendship, but to clarify this too quickly might feel like an insult to him. As though she was saying . . . saying what? That he was not the kind of man she would ever go out with. And what business was it of Esther’s anyway? By the time she had sloshed all this around in her head, Nick was already answering.
‘Just moral support,’ he said, giving away nothing more than he had to.
Esther looked from one to the other. ‘Oh, moral support, is that what they’re calling it these days?’
Lolly wondered if Esther had been drinking before she even came to the table. There was colour in her cheeks and her voice was an octave higher than usual. Heather Grant had a grin on her face; she was listening intently, hanging on to every word, probably trying to memorise it all for her book.
Nick ignored the comment and turned to Heather. ‘No news on Hazel Finch, I presume?’
‘Nothing. Not yet. I could kick myself, I really could. I should have played it differently, or at least kept a watch on her. I must have scared her off. She could be anywhere; it could take months to track her down again.’
‘I wouldn’t bother trying,’ Esther said. ‘It’s a waste of time. She might have been Teddy’s girlfriend at some point but . . . Oh, let’s not talk about it any more. Lita, darling, we didn’t get the chance to have a proper chat this afternoon. What have you been up to since you decided to move back to London?’
Lolly felt a flush of indignation warm her face. Esther said it as if the move had been voluntary, conveniently ignoring the fact she’d been kicked out of the house with no warning and nowhere to go. The minute Mal had been locked up, she’d been out on her ear. But there was a time and a place for recriminations and this wasn’t it – not with Heather Grant mentally taking notes. ‘This and that. I’ve got a market stall where I sell watches, jewellery and the like.’
‘Ah, a market stall. How novel!’
‘It keeps me busy.’
‘Well, it’s good to know that expensive education didn’t go to waste.’
Lolly glared across the table, trying not to lose her temper. Angry words leapt into her mouth but she swallowed them back down. Esther was goading her and she wasn’t going to rise to the bait. Instead she smiled and said calmly, ‘Education never goes to waste, or at least that’s what the headmistress used to say.’
‘I’m sure she did, my dear. Especially with the fees she was charging.’
Before things could escalate, Heather said, ‘I’ve always thought running a stall would be rather fun. Better than working in an office. All the different people you meet and—’
‘You wouldn’t want to meet the people in Kellston,’ Jude interrupted. ‘They’re lowlifes, the whole bloody lot of them. It’s a shame Hitler didn’t finish the job and raze the place to the ground.’ He picked up his glass and drank some more wine. ‘Scum, that’s what they are.’
‘No offence taken,’ Lolly said sarcastically.
‘I didn’t mean you – just the rest of them.’
‘I’m honoured.’
Heather stopped eating, her fork poised halfway to her mouth. ‘You never did say what happened to you, Jude. Were you mugged or what?’
Jude, having been reminded of his bruising, tentatively touched the swelling under his eye. ‘On that shithole of an estate. Y
ou can’t go out after dark on the Mansfield without some toe-rag trying to rob you.’ He gave Lolly a quick sideways glance as if she might be about to contradict his version of events. ‘Or daylight, come to that. It’s a jungle.’
Lolly said nothing. This wasn’t out of any loyalty to Jude – she had none – but because she didn’t want the whole Amy Wiltshire story coming out. She wasn’t proud of having given a false alibi and certainly didn’t wish to broadcast it.
‘Isn’t that where you grew up, Lita?’ Heather asked.
‘Yes,’ Lolly said, but didn’t elaborate. Heather must have been reading Stanley’s file as she doubted whether Esther or Jude would have furnished her with the information. She was wary of saying too much, not wanting to feed the girl’s curiosity.
‘Is it as bad as Jude says?’
‘There are worse places.’
Esther leaned forward and touched Jude lightly on the arm. ‘You’re not cut out for the mean streets are you, sweetheart?’
Jude pulled his arm away. ‘And what’s that supposed to mean?’
‘Just that you prefer the nicer things in life. There’s nothing wrong with that. Fighting off muggers isn’t really your forte.’
Jude stared at her while his less than sober mind tried to work out exactly what she was saying. Then his face twisted. He pushed back his chair and stood up, swaying a little. ‘You really can be a bitch sometimes.’ Then he lurched out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
Everyone fell silent.
Lolly suppressed a smile. Trouble in paradise? She couldn’t say she was sorry.
‘Oh dear, I seem to have touched a nerve.’ Esther laughed, more amused than upset by the exchange. ‘It’s the creative temperament, I suppose.’
‘I suspect he thought you were insulting his manhood,’ Nick said.
Esther raised her eyebrows. ‘People can be too sensitive, don’t you think?’
‘Difficult times. I guess you’re all on edge.’
