Mindsight (33 page)

I took the article to the sofa and leaned back to read it slowly. Penrose claimed at least one of the many trials they’d done with Briomab had thrown up some worrying results. And his original report had concluded that this trial should be repeated, but he said his comments had been deleted, along with the details of that particular trial. He didn’t know who was responsible, but said Dad must have authorised it. Apparently Dad wanted to get Briomab on the market right away to beat a similar drug being developed by Global.

Penrose told the reporter that other people knew about the deletion and some had initially supported him, but had been got at.
‘I didn’t blame them,’ he said. ‘They were mostly young men who couldn’t risk their careers. Those few that remained loyal to me were only saved from personal disaster by Mr Frome’s death.’

In fact, he went on to say that Dad had been obsessed with keeping control of the firm and threatened to destroy it rather than let Global take over.
He was willing to let all those shareholders lose their money. That’s what it was all about really, his ego, and keeping control of his firm.

I sat for a while with the article on my lap wondering why I’d never looked at the details closely before. If I had, I might have given more credence to Tom’s theory about someone wanting to hurt Dad. Lorna had shares in the business. If she’d known the way Dad was thinking, it would certainly have added to her anxiety at the time.

My mind was whirling with thoughts and with that feeling of being very close to the memories. When the phone rang, I jumped.

It was Emily. We talked about Lorna for a bit, but Alice had told her pretty much everything. I read the note out to her.

‘That’s a funny kind of suicide note, but I suppose she didn’t want the police to understand what she was saying,’ she said.

‘Of course, I hadn’t thought of that.’

We were quiet for a bit, then she said. ‘Matt told you about his meeting with Jacob Downes and that Downes let slip the other driver was a woman?’

‘Which more or less proves it was Lorna,’ I said. ‘But I’ve asked Mr Hillier to try and get a description. I need to be absolutely sure before I talk to Tom.’

‘I’m sorry if Matt was a bit heavy-handed with Downes. Hope it doesn’t frighten him off.’

‘If it does I shall just have to try even harder to remember. I’m close, Em, very close. Had a moment today when I was almost there.’

‘That’s good, but don’t rush it, you need to take care of yourself. Your health and sanity are more important for Tom than finding out the truth.’

I picked up the article about Mr Penrose. ‘Before you go, is Matt back yet? I’d like to ask him something else.’

‘No, can you believe it; he called in at the office on the way home and got caught up in a meeting. I’d be furious with him if I had the energy.’

‘And all because he came here. I’m so sorry. But can I ask you this instead, just to clear my mind? Did Matt argue with Dad at the reception?’

I heard her sigh. ‘I suppose it doesn’t matter now because you probably don’t have many illusions left about your father, but honestly, Clare, his behaviour towards everyone was really awful around that time. I suppose he was desperately afraid he’d lose the company, but … Anyway the short answer is, yes. They had a blazing row outside. Not the first, but a rip-roarer and Matt was so upset we left our own reception early.’

That explained the DVD. ‘Do you know what was said?’

‘Basically, your Dad told Matt he had destroyed Dr Penrose and would do the same to Matt: family or not. Kill his prospects of any kind of career if he didn’t stop supporting Penrose. He said he was prepared to sabotage the firm rather than let Global get their hands on it. Accused Matt of spying for Global and warned him he’d be responsible for Parnell’s shares crashing. That would have affected all of us: you and Alice, and my Dad too, of course.’

‘So what did Matt decide to do?’

‘What could he do? He had to agree to abandon Dr Penrose and keep his mouth shut.’

I couldn’t think of anything to say, but Emily went on. ‘Do you know, afterwards, when we heard about the crash, Matt and I thought at first your dad might have caused it deliberately. You hear about people killing themselves and taking their whole family with them, don’t you?’

I managed, ‘Yes.’

‘Look, Clare, promise me you’ll take it easy. You’ve had a series of horrible shocks. So let yourself get back to normal before you go on with this, please.’

I promised I would, but I doubted she believed me.

Next morning my mobile bleeped from the bedside table: a text from Kieran.

Are you OK? Give me a ring when you get this. Been up all night. XXX.

He answered right away sounding beaten. ‘I’ve only just left the hospital. They’ve stabilised her as they’re calling it and I don’t think there’s much more they can do, but they’re talking about sending her home soon. She says she wants to die in her own bed. But she’s a tough old bird, so it’s likely to be a while.’

‘I’m so sorry.’

‘I’m driving back after I’ve had some sleep. Just need to check the flat and collect some work, so that I can stay with her for as long as it takes. Will you be there?’

‘Yes.’

‘Are you all right?’ he asked. ‘You sound strange.’

‘I’m fine.’

‘No, you’re not. Please, Clare, tell me or you’ll have me worrying even more.’

I told him I’d found Lorna dead.

A moment’s pause, then, ‘Oh, Clare, I’m sorry. Look, I’m going to have a sleep then stop off at the hospital and if there’s no change with Mum, I’ll start back home. See you then.’

At the shop, Stella said how sorry she was about Lorna. Then she looked hard at me. ‘Are you sure you’re all right to work today?’ I forced a smile, saying I was, and she nodded and said no more. She was busy with orders and spent most of the morning in the back room or driving the van back and forth.

There was a white sea mist over the whole town and few customers, and I was writing out some cards for telephone orders, when the door clanged open and I looked up to see Alice.

She closed the door quickly with her foot, but still brought a swirl of fog in with her. ‘I was over this way so I thought we might have lunch.’ She was smiling, but was very pale, obviously worried about me.

We went to a little wine bar just down the street. It was busy, but we managed to find a table, the rickety chairs creaking as we shifted, both of us very aware of the couple on the next table.

‘Alice, I’m OK,’ I said. ‘Don’t worry about me.’

She sipped her lemon and lime and placed it carefully back on the waterproof tablecloth, the pale yellow of the drink clashing with the red and purple paisley design. I looked out onto the misty street and shivered. I’d made a mistake coming out without a sweater.

‘I get it, you’re strong now,’ she said. ‘But sometimes it’s better to give in when awful things happen.’ I went to speak, but she carried on. ‘And what about me? I loved Lorna too, you know, and maybe I need you.’ Her voice trembled and she looked into the glass she was sliding back and forth on the table.

I touched her hand to still it. ‘I’m sorry. I’m being very selfish, I know, but I need some time alone. I’m so, so, close to remembering everything and I need to focus on that for a little while.’

‘Just have a few hours off tonight, please. I can hang around here and take you back with me. Might even persuade Stella to let you go early. It’ll help clear your mind and we can talk. Tom’s anxious about you too.’

‘I’ll come tomorrow, but I can’t tonight, I’m sorry.’

‘What shall I tell Tom then? I said you’d be there.’ Her voice rose and the couple at the next table glanced over at us.

‘I’ll ring him and explain. He’ll understand.’

‘Are you sure?’

I bit the inside of my cheek to stop myself from telling her to shut up and leave me alone. It wasn’t just me who’d had to face a lot of shocks recently and she looked close to breaking point. ‘What I do know is that he wants me to remember and I can’t let this moment go.’ I looked at my watch. ‘I’ve got to get back.’

She didn’t move, just gave a little nod and I left her sitting there, pretending an interest in the congealing food on her plate, as the girl on the next table looked over and nudged her boyfriend.

Standing behind the counter that afternoon watching rain spatter at the windows, and listening to the heavier drip, drip, of a blocked gutter, I tried to catch hold of more fragments of memory. There was a puddle near the shop door and I took the mop and bucket from the back room, swishing it to and fro, hoping the mindless rhythm would bring some clarity. I had so many parts of the puzzle but there was something else, something I knew I wasn’t getting.

When I got home, Nic’s flat was dark and her car wasn’t in the parking bay; she must have gone shopping. Kieran’s car wasn’t back either and, although I’d been missing him, I was relieved: couldn’t face seeing anyone, even him, just now. I pulled on a mac and a pair of trainers to go for a walk. As I closed the main door, the back of my neck tingled and I shivered again.

Back on the rainy streets, I walked like a zombie. Lorna’s note was in my pocket and I held it tight: as if her hidden thoughts might seep through the paper into my mind. But nothing came and a fierce surge of anger struck me. It made me gasp and stand frozen under an old- fashioned street lamp, hypnotised, as thin feathers of rain floated in the beam.
You said you loved me, Lorna, so how could you leave me like this: with no answers?

I walked home, huddled in my mac, anxious to call Tom before he went to bed. When I came close to the flat, a car swished by splashing me with cold rainwater and I had to stop and hold onto the gate because I remembered the car that nearly hit me the night I came back from Cumbria. And all the other things too. They were real, I knew that. Lorna warned me that trying to get my memory back could be painful. But, could she also have sent someone to scare me? It was a terrible thought, but I was beginning to wonder if I’d ever really known her.

I let myself into the flat, shrugging off my mac and throwing it on the sofa. Lorna’s note was still in my hand and I scrunched it into the pocket of my jeans. I needed to keep it near me.

I walked over to the big sitting room windows. It was past midsummer, the darkness falling a little earlier each day. And this evening the rain made it gloomy, shrouding everything in a grey veil. I felt almost as I’d done on the first day here, wanting to cry, but knowing there was no point.

I wondered how long it would be before Kieran got back and all at once I didn’t want to be alone. I’d noticed Nic’s lights were on again as I came in, so maybe after I’d called Tom, I’d go over and see her.

The phone rang.

It was Alice and I started to say I was sorry for how I’d been in the wine bar, but she cut me off. ‘Clare, something’s happened.’

The quiver in her voice turned me cold. I sat down. ‘What?’

‘You’ve got to get over here.’ She spoke as if reading a script. ‘Come now and don’t call the police, don’t tell anyone.’

The room took on an unreal shimmer. ‘What’s happened?’

Her voice wobbled. ‘Just hurry, please. Or he says he’ll hurt Tom.’ The room wavered again as the line clicked dead.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Seconds later I was beating and calling at Nic’s door. ‘Please, there’s an emergency. I need to borrow your car.’

She tried to usher me into her hall. ‘Of course, babe, but come in and sit down for a minute.’

I pulled away. ‘No I can’t stop. It’s my son. I’ve got to get to him.

She didn’t answer, didn’t ask any questions, just reached out to the little table next to her and took a key from the bunch. I tried to thank her, but couldn’t speak, and she waved me away. ‘Get going. Good luck, whatever it is.’

The rain was pouring down and by the time I reached Nic’s car, and struggled to open it, I was soaked. It wasn’t until I climbed into the driver’s seat that I realised what I was doing and had to sit for a moment to catch the breath that had suddenly gone. It was so long since I’d driven I wasn’t even sure I could anymore.

I turned on the engine and adjusted my seat. One part of my brain was shouting,
hurry up, hurry up
, while another part was telling me to take care.
Find the windscreen wiper switch. Don’t forget the lights.
Finally, I managed to crank the gearstick into reverse and to turn the car round. It bounced on the kerb. But then I was away.

Although I was hardly breathing, crouched forward, my eyes straining into the empty darkness ahead, I was managing all right. The car slowed at the top of the hill and threatened to stall, but after another brief struggle, and a clash of gears, I was onto the main road.

The rain was beating down and the road was busy, but I thought of Tom.
Just keep going.
Heading into the country, I tried to lean back; to loosen my hands on the wheel; to unclench my jaw.

The windscreen had turned white with mist and I couldn’t locate the switch to clear it. I rubbed a patch clean with one hand then rolled down my window. Cold air and spits of rain struck me, but it didn’t matter. I was sweating anyway and at least I could see. The lights of the cars coming towards me were very bright.
Keep going, keep going
.

When I turned, at last, onto a quieter road, I put my foot down.
Not long now. I’ll be there soon, Tom.

My headlights reflected off the trees at the roadside – moving fast. There was nothing between Tom and me, but this long stretch of shining road with dark clouds rushing above it. A dull rumble: thunder in the distance. A flash of lightening so brilliant I flinched and my eyes closed for an instant.

And it happened just like that.

As I opened my eyes, a car swept by, its headlights dazzling. And, in that split second of brilliant blindness, I was her again – the Clare of the moment when my life changed.

The memory was there, then gone again, and as I reached out to grasp it, the clouds shifted above, the road spooled away, and I clung on with desperate fingertips.