Memory Scents (16 page)

              Chrissie stopped to think again, while Sarah stared at her friend in anticipation, trying to be patient.

              “What I can’t understand is why she never told me about Alice?”

              “Why do you think she didn’t?”

              “I really don’t know. But it feels a bit strange, kind of like she’s holding a lot of things back.”

              “Perhaps she finds it too difficult to talk about. Or, like she said, they aren’t sure if it’s connected. Some people don’t like to talk about personal things.”

 
              “It could be, but I don’t get that feeling. She’s a very warm and open person. Although, she and her husband Tim make a very odd match. I find him really strange and I don’t think she’s particularly happy with him.”

              “Well, a feeling is a feeling and you must take notice of it. Maybe she’ll tell you more when you see her.”

              “Yes, probably. Anyway, I’m doing it again.”

              “What?”

              “Talking about all that stuff.”

              “It doesn’t matter, I find it interesting and two brains mulling it over are far better than one. I think the key is not to let it consume you.”

              “Precisely. So, let’s get home and I’ll prepare dinner while you tell me all about your plans to move here.”

*

              Grace didn’t know why she’d felt the need to pull the car over and tell Chrissie her news. She supposed it was due to shock and an overwhelming feeling to just tell someone what had happened. As if she was going to rescue them all from the awful nightmare they were in, erasing it out for them. Like deleting a screen full of words and changing the whole story. But Grace knew it didn’t work like that because they were the ones floating out on the choppy sea, whilst the world carried on around them, as they slowly became dots on the horizon.

              But there was more to it than just wanting to share her awful news. She’d spotted Chrissie in the street and it wasn’t in Grace’s nature to stop the car and tell someone something, especially when they were with someone she didn’t know. She’d normally wait even under such tragic circumstances. But she’d felt it was important to tell Chrissie, and she did know why deep down. Grace was finding the secret about Tim almost too much to bear. And the news of Alice had only heightened the urge to tell someone. Grace was torn between telling the police and following through with her plans. She carried an awful guilt around, knowing she was privy to information so many people were desperate to know. And would she really go through with her plans? It had been over a year already. She’d often visualised doing it to see if she was really serious about it. Most of the time she was, but then she had moments of feeling really scared and aware of how huge it was to take another person’s life, however evil they were. To take someone else’s fate into your own hands seemed quite an arrogant decision to make.                Perhaps telling Chrissie wouldn’t be as monumentally explosive as she thought. Maybe Chrissie would agree with her plans once she knew the full story?

           
No, no, no! What was she thinking? Grace nearly collided into the back of a stationary car; she was so engrossed in her thoughts. It jolted her back to reality, and after the car had screeched to a halt, she became starkly aware of what she’d just thought, and knew she must keep quiet.

              The key to getting rid of anyone, alongside making it look like suicide, was not to tell another soul. Tim had taught her that. Times changed, people’s views altered and then you had to trust them not to tell anyone. The only person you could really rely on was yourself. Grace stopped herself again; she was beginning to sound like Tim. What on earth was happening to her?

              She banged her hands on the steering wheel as if to jolt herself out of it, and pulled into the familiar drive of her sister’s house.

              All was quiet when she went in. She called to Eve but there was no reply.

              She unloaded the bags onto the kitchen table and made her way through the house looking for her.

              She stopped at the foot of the stairs and listened carefully, thinking that she was probably upstairs having a sleep. Eve hadn’t slept since she’d heard the news about Alice.

              Grace made her way up the stairs, but Eve wasn’t in her room as she’d first thought. A slight spark of panic ignited in her stomach.

              “Eve?”

              She thought perhaps she’d gone out, but then Eve rarely went anywhere.

             
“Eve?” She called a bit louder as she began opening the doors to each room.

              The spark was now turning into a flame and making its way from her stomach to her heart.

              “EVE!!”

              The last and only room she hadn’t looked in loomed at the end of the corridor, like the forbidden door to the Secret Garden. Only, she didn’t feel what lay behind it would be a pleasant surprise.

              She moved slowly down the corridor as the door appeared to magnify in front of her. The carpet and walls became noticeable for the first time in years and Grace realised nothing had been changed since Alice went missing. The house was trapped in a time warp, with Eve in it, while everything moved on in the outside world. Or maybe it was the other way around.

              Tentatively her hand came out to reach for the door handle. Her entire body filled with dread at what might be on the other side.

              She seemed to float through the next few moments, as if a gentle breeze was blowing her into the room to stand next to her sister, who was lying in a ball on her daughter’s bed.

              Grace’s hand went to her throat as she tried to gulp in air.

              “Oh Eve…no Eve.” She whispered like a small child.

              Eve stirred on the bed, and her eyelids slowly pulled apart; sticky from crying herself to sleep.

              “Bloody hell Eve!” Grace launched herself on the bed and picked her tiny sister up in her arms and sobbed.

              “Grace…? What’s happened?”

              Grace couldn’t speak, she was so relieved.

              “Grace you’re frightening me, what’s happened?”

              “I thought you were…I thought you’d…” Grace looked at the bottle of sleeping tablets on the bedside table and Eve followed her gaze.

              “Oh Grace. No….no! I came in here for a sleep. I took a tablet because I knew you’d be a while and I’m having trouble sleeping on my own. I just wanted to feel close to her.”

              Grace and Eve wrapped their arms around each other, and looking like identical twins began to cry for the last ten years that had passed without Alice.

*

              Tim watched the sparks spitting from the bonfire he’d lit in the garden. It was dusk and he’d questioned whether it was normal to have one at this time of day. He didn’t want to draw attention to himself, especially as he didn’t normally burn his rubbish.

              The glow of the fire warmed the front of his body and lit up his face. To anyone who didn’t know, he looked like any normal man enjoying a bonfire after a hard day’s work in the garden. But to know him for what he was, he was more like the devil incarnate floating up from the flames.

              He sniffed the air, trying to detect any trace of a smell from the memory scents that he was burning. There were no scents; they had gone a long time ago, not far behind their owners. But Tim convinced himself there was an aroma in the air. He’d almost forgotten himself when he came out of the shed, and nearly opened the boxes to smell each and every one of them, one last time. But he’d remembered he was out in the open, albeit in his garden, but still visible to the neighbours. It was imperative that it looked like he’d had a clear out and was simply burning his rubbish.

          
He had felt a certain attachment to all the memory scents he had kept over the years. A bit like a child not wanting to get rid of a much loved collection of old toys.

              He watched the flames fold and marry perfectly with the boxes, as one by one he gave each victim their second funeral; apart from Alice of course.

              There had been no funeral for Alice’s parents, or a time to say goodbye to their daughter, because they’d had nothing to say farewell to until now.

              Tim didn’t care about this though; it was of no significance. To him, funerals were just an excuse for people to be dramatic in public, crying because they felt guilty for not appreciating that person while they were alive. He didn’t understand why people were so shocked by death. Everyone had to die, that was a sure fact that everyone grew up knowing. Once you were born you had begun the process of dying.

          
He felt slightly bereft, watching the fire, but not for his victims, but rather for the fact this era of his life was now over.

              A tiny idea was beginning to form in Tim’s head. If he could persuade Grace to move house they could set up somewhere else. No one would suspect a thing. It would take him out of the enquiry and enable him to set up a new life, and to gather new memory scents.

              Come to think of it, if Grace wouldn’t come with him, he’d go it alone. There was nothing between them anymore, even Grace would agree with that.

              Tim sipped the beer that he was holding and stared into the flames that were showing him all sorts of visions of his new life. There was, however, one thing he hadn’t yet thought of. His mother.

*

              Grace tucked the blanket around her sister, who had eventually made her way downstairs and curled up on the sofa. She kissed her forehead.

              “I’ll make you a cup of tea. Do you want me to turn the television on for you?”

              “No, but a cup of tea would be nice thanks.”

              Eve wanted to think about the last few days. Having a cry had helped ease things and she was slightly surprised at the change in her emotions. She didn’t normally cry much, because to her crying had meant an admission and acceptance of Alice not returning. But she had realised it was just a way of releasing strong emotions when things got to be too much to bear.

              “How are you feeling?” Grace handed her a cup of tea.

              “I don’t know really. I thought I would feel a tiny bit relieved and similar to the way I felt all those years ago. But I don’t at all. It’s a different kind of grief and now another nightmare to face.”

              “Is there some way you can try and focus on remembering Alice how she was? How you have been doing these past few years? I know it’s hard Eve, but she died ten years ago; it’s just that you didn’t know about it. Please don’t torture yourself all over again.” Grace knew she sounded callous but she wanted Eve to skip the awful nightmare and move forward, because she was scared of the massive effect it would have on her. She knew there was an element of guilt hidden in her words as they came out of her mouth.

              “What? So, you think I should just forget it and get on with my life?” Eve’s tone was deep and dark.

              “I’m not saying that Eve. I’m not taking away the magnitude of what has happened, but I don’t want it to destroy you anymore than it has done. I really think you ought to go and see a counsellor.” Grace knew she was treading on volcanic ground. But someone had to say something; her sister had allowed this to eat her away for far too long.

              “So, because you come into my house and assume I’ve topped myself and then I cry over my daughter whose remains have just been found, you think I need professional help?”

              “Oh come on Eve. I know I jumped to the wrong conclusion, but you can’t blame me? Look at what you’ve been through?”

              Grace knew she had to turn this around otherwise her sister would snap. She felt like she was trying to control a saucepan of simmering milk from boiling over.

              “There is nothing wrong with going to a counsellor for help with your problems, especially after what you’ve been through.”

              “I don’t want any help from strangers. I will deal with this in my own way, as I have done for the last ten years. No one can fix this, not even a professional.” Eve sipped the sugary, toffee coloured tea.

              “Alright.” Grace cringed at Eve’s clipped tone; her face stung as if she’d been slapped. Eve obviously felt no one had been there for her. She had retreated back into her shell again; protecting herself from everything and everyone.

              “What would really help me right now would be the police ringing to tell me that they’d caught the bastard who did this.”

              Grace fidgeted in her chair, as a wave of guilt passed through her, and the enormity of the secret she was keeping slapped her around the face, and not for the first time that day. It didn’t go unnoticed.