Stolen

by Roberta Kray

  ‘Mrs Gough reminds me of that monster thing in Greek mythology. You know, the three-headed hound who guards the gates to Hades. What’s his name?’

  ‘Cerberus,’ Lolly said. Amongst the books in the library were several on Greek mythology, all full of gruesome tales she had devoured as a young teenager.

  ‘Yes, that’s it. Wasn’t it his duty to stop the dead from escaping?’

  Lolly gave her a sidelong glance, wondering if this was just a straightforward question or if she was implying something darker. ‘I think so.’

  ‘Yes,’ Heather said, leaning back her head to catch the sun’s rays on her face. ‘That must be a full-time job.’

  Lolly thought of Kay and a shudder passed through her body. Quickly she changed the subject. ‘So how’s the book going?’

  ‘Slowly but I’m getting there. It’s like putting together a jigsaw when half the pieces are missing.’

  ‘I thought you’d be out looking for Hazel Finch.’

  ‘Oh, I’ve got someone else on that. At the moment I need to grab as much time as I can with Esther. She’s always got meetings or script readings or something that means she’s too busy to talk. That’s why I’m staying; it’s the only way I can get to see her. I’m lucky if I manage to snatch the odd half hour.’

  ‘I’m surprised she agreed to it – the book, I mean.’

  ‘Well, I’d like to say it was because she was so impressed with my investigative prowess, but I suspect it was mainly to spite Mal. She knew he’d hate the idea.’

  ‘Hasn’t she hurt him enough already?’

  Heather gave a low laugh. ‘Women like Esther don’t know the meaning of enough.’

  ‘You don’t like her.’

  ‘I don’t like or dislike her. That’s simply the way she’s made. And I’m not here to pass judgement; I just want to get to the truth.’

  Lolly thought the reply disingenuous. Everyone had an opinion, positive or negative, when it came to Esther, and she didn’t imagine Heather was any different. ‘And what about Mal? What do you think of him?’

  ‘The same. I’ve only met him once. I feel sorry for him, for them both, but they haven’t exactly helped themselves. If Mal had come clean, if he hadn’t covered up his part in Teddy Heath’s death, Hazel might have been found years ago.’

  ‘You don’t always make smart decisions when you’ve just killed someone, even if it is an accident.’ Lolly stretched out her legs and crossed them at the ankles. ‘Do you really think Vicky Finch is Kay?’

  ‘It’s possible.’

  ‘Possible rather than probable?’

  ‘I’m just trying to be cautious. I don’t want to get anyone’s hopes up too much.’

  A bit late for that, Lolly thought. ‘But Mal believes she is?’

  ‘I don’t know what he believes. Like I said, I’ve only met him the once. I told him what I know, the facts, nothing else. I didn’t embellish them. I’m not the sort of writer who makes things up to get a reaction.’ Heather shifted on the bench, glancing at Lolly. ‘I’m not convinced that what he’s done is any kind of response to what I said on the visit. He was perfectly calm, not fired up at all. I got the impression he thought it would be another dead end.’

  Lolly wasn’t sure if she was telling the truth or just covering her own arse. ‘But he still walked.’

  ‘It could have been over something completely unrelated. Perhaps there were things going on in jail, a situation he had to get away from.’

  ‘He was fine when I visited.’

  ‘Would he have told you if anything was wrong?’

  ‘He was fine,’ Lolly repeated firmly.

  Heather nodded. ‘Well, if it was something I said, he must have taken it out of context.’

  ‘Did you talk to him about Esther?’

  ‘In what respect?’

  ‘What she thinks, whether she believes this Vicky could be Kay.’

  Heather assumed a look of concentration, frowning slightly as if trying to recall the details of the conversation. ‘No, I didn’t go into that.’

  ‘And he didn’t ask?’

  ‘I don’t believe he’s particularly interested in what Esther thinks.’

  Lolly thought this might be true in a general sense but not when it came to their daughter. Esther had always been the sceptic, the disbeliever, the one who was convinced Kay had died on the day she was taken. If she was starting to change her mind then that would have a profound effect on Mal’s point of view.

  ‘I wonder where he is,’ Heather mused.

  Lolly gazed along the path as if Mal might suddenly stride into view. ‘A long way away, hopefully.’

  ‘You don’t think he’ll come here?’

  ‘And get himself arrested? Why would he do that?’

  A hint of cunning entered Heather’s eyes. ‘You can’t be that sure or you wouldn’t be here yourself.’

  ‘Esther wanted to see me.’

  ‘And now she has, but you’re not exactly rushing home.’ Heather grinned. ‘Come on, you think he might show up, don’t you?’

  ‘No,’ Lolly insisted. ‘I think he’d be mad to come within twenty miles of the place.’

  ‘Well, we all get a little mad sometimes, especially when the stakes are high.’

  Lolly didn’t reply.

  There was a short silence before Heather asked, ‘So what’s your take on Jude Rule?’

  Lolly bristled. ‘What’s Jude got to do with anything?’

  ‘You’ve known him a long time, haven’t you? Since you were kids.’ Heather must have clocked the look on Lolly’s face because she quickly added, ‘It’s completely off the record. I swear. Nothing to do with the book. I’m just curious. I mean, you came to live here, then you left, then he came here. How did that come about?’

  ‘I don’t know. I haven’t seen him in ages.’

  ‘Why’s that, then?’

  Lolly tried not to show her irritation. She didn’t want to talk about Jude, didn’t even want to think about him. ‘We just lost touch.’

  But Heather wasn’t giving up. ‘And what’s the deal with him and Esther? I can’t work out whether they’re an item or not. One minute he seems to hate her guts, the next he’s following her around like an adoring puppy.’

  ‘You’re asking the wrong person. I don’t know anything about their relationship.’

  ‘He’s good-looking, I suppose, but kind of intense. I get the feeling there’s all sorts bubbling under the surface. What was he like when he was younger?’

  ‘The same as he is now.’

  ‘The jealous sort, huh?’

  ‘I didn’t say that,’ Lolly snapped. Even though it was true, she didn’t want words being put into her mouth.

  ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean anything by it. Only I was talking to Brenda Cecil and she had some pretty nasty things to say about him and Amy Wiltshire.’

  ‘What? Why on earth were you talking to her? You can’t believe a word that woman says.’

  ‘She says much the same about you.’ Heather laughed. ‘But don’t worry, I’ve met her type before. A real piece of work, right? No, I was just trying to get a bit of background information on Stanley Parrish, what he was like, and one thing led to another and . . . well, she obviously bears a grudge against you and Jude. Women like her don’t forget in a hurry.’

  Lolly, whose intention had been to interrogate Heather, felt like the tables had been turned. She felt uneasy, slightly panicked, as though the past was coming back to haunt her. Brenda wouldn’t just have spoken about the murder but also about the alibi Lolly had given and how she had got Jude Rule off the hook. In order to defend herself, she had to defend Jude too. ‘None of it’s true. It was her own son who was in the frame. He was the one who was going out with Amy. She’s just looking for someone else to blame.’

  ‘I’m sure you’re right and I don’t envy you having to live with her even if was only for a few months. That can’t have been easy.’

  ‘It was years ago. I don�
�t ever think about it now. I don’t want to think about it.’

  Heather took the hint and moved on. ‘Is Nick still in bed?’

  ‘No, he’s already left. He’s got work. He had to get back to London.’

  Heather looked relieved, as if she was glad to have him out of the way. ‘Oh well, I’d better go and see if Esther’s up yet. What are you going to do with yourself?’

  ‘I’m not sure. I might take a walk, stretch my legs.’

  ‘I’ll leave you to it, then.’

  Lolly stayed a while longer, mulling over the encounter. It had been less a casual conversation and more a battle of wits. Unfortunately, she wasn’t convinced that she’d come out on top. Heather had her own agenda and God alone knew what it was. She looked over at the house and then along the path that led away from it. What she should probably do, she thought, is go back inside and loiter at some doors. If she was going to find out what was going on, she wouldn’t do it sitting on her backside.

  But the lure of fresh air and solitude was too much. The espionage could wait until later.

  Lolly stood up and set off towards the lake.

  21

  Tuesday 20 September. West Henby

  It was getting warmer now, the sun rising higher in the sky, and Lolly took off her sweater and draped it round her shoulders. She followed the curve of the lake, taking care to keep an eye on the ground where there were stones and knotty roots waiting to trip the unwary. The water was calm, a wide sheet in muted shades of blue and grey, ruffled only by a light breeze. As she walked she had to push aside the slender graceful fronds of the weeping willows, dodging the showers of raindrops that fell from the higher branches. It had poured during the night and the air smelled of wet earth.

  As a thirteen-year-old, she’d been both frightened and fascinated by this place, repelled and attracted. Ghosts lurked in every corner: in the trees, amongst the reeds and bulrushes, but most of all in the lake itself where the nanny, Cathy Kershaw, had met her brutal death and Kay Fury had been snatched from her pram before it could sink beneath the surface for ever. Had the baby still been alive at that point? It was impossible to know. Lolly thought of the cries she’d heard when she and Vinnie had parked up by the gates last week. She was still no closer to finding out who or where they’d come from.

  Lolly tramped on. Eventually the summerhouse came into view, its paint old and peeling, the wooden window frames starting to rot. No one bothered to repair it because no one came here any more. She approached and would have walked on past if she hadn’t noticed something odd: the door was slightly ajar. When she’d lived here, the place had always been locked. As a kid, she’d often pressed her nose against the smeary windows, peering in at the abandoned room with its table and chairs and dusty cushions.

  Lolly stopped and frowned. She stood for a moment, listening for any sound but there was nothing but the birds in the trees. She looked to either side and over her shoulder. Eventually she took a step forward, tentatively pushing open the door with her fingertips. There was a mustiness about the room, a dank cellar sort of smell. The floor was littered with nature’s debris, leaves and mouse droppings and dead flies. Cobwebs had gathered in every corner.

  Suddenly she began to notice all sorts of things that didn’t belong here: a bright red rucksack parked under the table, a raincoat flung over the back of one of the chairs, an empty bottle of juice. Her mind was still absorbing all this when she heard a noise behind her. Lolly swung round, her heart in her mouth, and almost screamed.

  The man loomed over her, tall and threatening. His face was thin, unshaven and his eyes were hollow. His wet hair, slicked down, gave his head an almost skull-like appearance. She instinctively recoiled, her pulse starting to race. Her first thought was a tramp, someone seeking shelter, but then something clicked in her brain and she realised who it was.

  ‘Jesus Christ!’ she exclaimed, lifting a hand to her chest. ‘You almost gave me a heart attack. What the hell are you doing here?’

  Mal gave a wry smile. ‘Where else would I go?’

  ‘Anywhere but here. It’s not safe. The police are looking for you.’

  ‘I should think they’ve already searched the grounds, haven’t they?’

  ‘That doesn’t mean they won’t come back.’

  ‘I’ll take my chances.’

  Now that the initial shock had subsided, Lolly gazed up at him, her eyes full of concern. ‘Are you all right? How long have you been here? God, you look worn out.’ Actually, he looked worse than that: exhausted, grey and haggard. ‘You can’t stay, Mal. What if somebody finds you?’

  ‘Somebody already has.’

  ‘Yeah, well, you’re lucky it was me. Anyone else would have called the law.’

  ‘I need to know what’s going on.’

  ‘What do you think I’m doing? You didn’t have to . . . Jesus, they were going to let you out in a few months. Couldn’t you have waited until then?’

  ‘And let Esther disappear with my daughter? Or whatever else she’s got up her sleeve. You know what she’s like. Is she there? Is Vicky in the house?’

  Lolly shook her head. ‘No, only Esther and Heather Grant and Jude. Oh, and Mrs Gough of course. And there’s no evidence that Vicky is your daughter. You do realise that, don’t you? I’ve no idea what Heather told you but you shouldn’t pin your hopes on it.’

  Mal had a towel in his hand, an old one that must have been lying around the summerhouse for years. He ran it over his head and then held it to his nose. ‘This towel smells worse than I do.’

  ‘Are you listening to me?’

  ‘I have to talk to Esther.’

  ‘You can’t. She’s just waiting for you to turn up so she can have you arrested again. Is that what you want?’

  ‘Then I’ll wait. I’ll watch the house. Vicky’s going to come here eventually.’

  Lolly sighed. She could see there was no point in arguing with him. All she could do was try and contain the situation until she figured out a better plan. ‘When was the last time you had something to eat?’

  ‘I don’t know. Yesterday? The day before?’

  ‘Look, I’ll go and get you some food. But be careful, yeah? Stay in the summerhouse until I get back.’

  Mal nodded.

  ‘Promise me? Promise you won’t go near the house?’

  ‘For now,’ he said.

  Lolly, seeing this was the best she was going to get, nodded too. ‘Okay, I shouldn’t be too long but it depends on who’s around . . . and what’s left in the fridge. I might have to walk into the village.’

  ‘Mrs Docherty always keeps the place well stocked.’

  ‘Mrs Docherty isn’t here any more. Esther got rid of her.’

  ‘What?’

  As soon as she’d spoken, Lolly wished she hadn’t. She didn’t want to add more fuel to whatever conspiracy theories were already flying around in his head. ‘Or perhaps she retired. I’m not sure. Anyway, Esther’s not employed a replacement yet so I guess Mrs Gough is dealing with it all. Don’t worry, I’ll find you something.’

  ‘I could do with some clean clothes too.’

  Lolly stared at what he was wearing. His shirt and trousers were covered in grass stains and dirt, like he’d been sleeping rough for a few nights. ‘I may have to sort that out later. And I’ll bring a blanket too.’

  ‘Thanks, Lita. I’m sorry to drag you into this.’

  ‘Just don’t do anything . . . I don’t know, anything stupid. Keep your head down, yeah?’

  ‘I’ll stay out of sight.’

  ‘Good. I’ll see you soon.’

  Lolly glanced over her shoulder as she walked off down the path. She was relieved that Mal was safe, not dead in a ditch at least, but how was she going to keep him that way? It was a question that troubled her as she hurried back towards the house.

  Lolly heard the one thing she wanted to hear as she crept down the stairs that led to the basement: silence. ‘Thank you, God,’ she murmured. She looked in
through the kitchen door and then back up the stairs making sure the coast was clear. When she was certain no one was in the vicinity she rushed inside and made a beeline for the fridge.

  The contents were disappointing. In Mrs Docherty’s day, it would have been crammed full of goodies but clearly Mrs Gough was more frugal. There were pork chops – today’s lunch perhaps – but not much else apart from milk, butter, eggs and the remains of last night’s dinner. She removed a few slices of cold chicken and ham and wrapped them in foil.

  In the pantry she had more luck, finding bread and cheese, tomatoes and apples. She took as much as she dared. There were guests in the house, people who were going to get hungry, so hopefully Mrs Gough wouldn’t question a bit of food going missing. The last thing she wanted was to raise suspicion.

  After rummaging through the cutlery drawer she chose an old knife and put it to one side. She had a moment’s hesitation – was it wise to furnish Mal with something that could be used as a weapon? – but then dismissed the thought. For one, the knife was too blunt to inflict any serious damage, and for two she couldn’t imagine him deliberately hurting anyone. It made her feel guilty to have even considered it.

  Lolly’s next stop was the utility room where she dug out a large carrier bag and unlocked the door that led outside. It would be safer to leave this way than to go through the house again. She noticed a crate of empty bottles, alcohol and juice, and picked out the cleanest. Returning to the kitchen, she rinsed the bottle, filled it with water and then stuffed it in the bag with all the food. She looked down at the contents: not exactly a feast but it would do for now.

  Lolly was about to leave when she heard footsteps on the stairs. And then a voice – Jude’s voice.

  ‘Esther? Are you there?’

  It was too late to make a run for it. Instead Lolly shoved the bag under the table, switched on the kettle and tried not to look too guilty.

  ‘Oh, it’s you,’ he said, coming in. ‘Have you seen Esther?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘I don’t suppose there’s any coffee on the go?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Be a pal and make me one, would you? Seeing as the kettle’s on and all.’ He sat down at the table, groaned and raked his fingers through his hair. ‘I need caffeine urgently. I’ve got a stinking headache.’