The Moment She Left (33 page)

‘No, they don’t. Maybe you’ll let me know when I can tell them?’

‘Of course.’

‘So where are you now?’ he asked.

‘On my way to see my mother. She finds this sort of news quite difficult to cope with, so I want to break it to her myself.’

‘Do you want to get together later?’ he offered.

Thinking of how much she’d like that, she said, ‘If my mother’s OK, and you’re back from Devon . . .’

‘I’ll call you,’ he promised, and as the line went dead she found herself welling up again. Kindness often did that to her, and he was being so kind not only to her, but to Blake and Rowzee . . . Maybe she shouldn’t take up his time later, Blake’s or Rowzee’s needs would be greater.

She was almost at her mother’s when to her dismay Martin rang. Though tempted to let him go to voicemail, she reminded herself that to him the issue of their break-up was paramount; he had no idea what else was going on in her world, how much greater the loss of Jessica felt right now than the regret for hurting him.

‘Hello,’ she said evenly.

‘Where are you?’ he asked, his tone more clipped than friendly.

‘On my way to Bourne Hollow.’

‘If you’re intending to see your mother I can save you a journey. She’s with mine in Westleigh.’

Where she usually was on Tuesdays, Andee remembered. ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘Are you still at the flat?’

‘We need to talk.’

‘You need to leave.’

‘I’ll see you when you get here,’ and he rang off.

Deciding to put him out of her mind for now, she turned the car around and twenty minutes later she was pulling up outside her mother-in-law’s. Alayna came bounding out to greet her.

‘Hey Mum,’ she chirped happily, and Andee’s heart contracted. Alayna was almost the same age as Jessica had been when she’d fallen for Charles and ended up losing her life.

Quickly sensing her mother’s low spirits, Alayna said, ‘Are you all right? What’s happened?’

Andee’s eyes went briefly to hers, and for one dizzying moment, feeling she was looking at her teenage sister, the deeply suppressed grief almost escaped her.

‘Mum?’ Alayna prompted worriedly.

Putting an arm around her, Andee walked her over to a wooden bench and sat holding her hands as she told her what had happened to Jessica.

‘Oh no, oh no,’ Alayna murmured, her eyes closing over her tears. ‘I’m so sorry. I didn’t want it to end like this. I thought we . . .’ She broke off on a sob. ‘I really thought she might still be alive.’

‘So did I,’ Andee admitted, only realising now how desperately she’d wanted it to be true. Because it would have given her hope for her sister? Or because it would have been what Blake’s family deserved?

Both, of course.

As though reading her mind, Alayna gave her a hug. ‘I know how hard this is for you. I wish there was something I could do.’

Loving her tenderness and understanding, Andee said, ‘It’s harder for Blake and his family.’

‘Maybe, but at least they know where Jessica is now.’

Andee nodded absently.

After a while, Alayna said, ‘I wish I’d known Aunt Penny.’

Andee smiled as she touched Alayna’s cheek. ‘I do too.’

Resting her head on her mother’s shoulder, Alayna said, ‘Do you think we should try again to find her?’

Though a part of Andee wanted to, more than anything, she said, ‘I wouldn’t know where to start now, after all these years.’

‘But you still miss her?’

Andee swallowed. ‘I miss what we should have had,’ she whispered.

Curling her fingers around her mother’s, Alayna said, ‘What would you say if you could speak to her now?’

Andee smiled sadly. ‘What I always say to her in my mind, that I’m sorry for not being a better sister and not realising how much pain she was in. I could have helped her, changed things for her, but I was a selfish teenager back then who couldn’t see any further than herself.’

‘I can’t imagine you being like that.’

‘I was, I’m afraid.’

More minutes ticked quietly by as Andee pictured her sister the way she’d last known her, a
fourteen-year-old girl with worried eyes and curly dark hair. It was as though no time had passed; if she reached out she might touch her, grab her, hold her back from the terrible fate life had planned for her. But there was no way of doing that; time had moved inexorably on, more than thirty years had passed, separating them in ways that had no rhyme or reason, no substance or meaning. What would she be like now, if she was still alive? Would she have grown tall, would she still be worried, afraid, unsure of herself, or loved and happy, a mother like Andee, a wife, a daughter and sister to somebody else?

‘Tell me,’ Alayna said, ‘in your heart, do you really believe she killed herself? I know the letter she sent made it look that way, but do you think there’s a chance she might still be out there somewhere?’

Taking a breath, Andee said, ‘I think it all the time, but I’ve no idea whether that’s due to instinct or hope. If she is alive . . . I don’t understand why she’s never come back.’

‘Maybe she can’t. If someone’s holding her . . . I know it doesn’t seem likely after so many years, but no one’s ever found a body, and like you say, it doesn’t make sense for her not to be in touch.’

‘I know it doesn’t to us, but if she has made another life . . . Maybe she just doesn’t want to come back.’

‘If that’s true it would be so cruel, when she surely has to know how much you’ve all suffered.’

Andee couldn’t deny it. ‘What’s really cruel,’ she murmured, ‘is the not knowing.’

Rowzee was much calmer now. Not that she’d panicked earlier, when she was by the swamp with Bill or lost her head in such a way as to embarrass herself or alarm the police. She’d just got so upset when she’d heard one of the officers take a call and then tell another officer that it seemed they’d found Jessica Leonard that she’d ended up coming over very strange indeed. Fortunately, only Bill had noticed, so he’d sat her down next to a tree and urged her to breathe deeply while he patted her hand and tried to stop Teddy from licking her.

It seemed everything had gone a bit haywire then, because apparently she hadn’t known who Bill was for a while, which had spooked him, he’d claimed, and she hadn’t seemed to know where they were either, or what was happening around her.

‘I need to get her home,’ she’d heard Bill telling a policeman. ‘I’m not sure she can make it on the bike.’

‘I’m fine,’ Rowzee had made herself insist, feeling nauseous as things swam in and out of focus. ‘I just felt a bit faint for a moment.’ She’d tried to get up, but then she’d remembered about Jessica and the reason they were there and suddenly she started to cry, huge racking sobs as she thought of Blake and Jenny, dear Matt, and Edward her own sweet little son whom she still missed every single day.

Eventually, she’d been ferried back through the estate in a police car to a waiting Pamela beside herself with worry and fear, and ready to box her ears – she’d actually said that – for not taking her phone.

Bill had arrived a few minutes later with Teddy, and when he’d told Pamela about Jessica Rowzee had felt herself coming over all peculiar again.

‘Oh my God, look at her,’ Pamela cried in horror. ‘She doesn’t have any colour in her cheeks and she keeps swaying. I’m calling the paramedics.’

‘Don’t,’ Rowzee protested. ‘I’m fine. I just need to lie down.’

Pamela turned to Bill, clearly needing him to decide.

‘She should lie down,’ he declared.

So Pamela had helped Rowzee upstairs to bed where they’d cried together for Jessica and her family and Edward and Victor and their dear, saintly parents, talking at length about the happy family life they’d shared.

‘Does Blake know yet?’ Pamela asked Bill when he brought in some tea.

‘I’m not sure,’ he replied. ‘Rowzee and I have been asked not to say anything, but I rang Graeme just now. I thought he ought to know, because of Rowzee finding her and everything.’

Seeming to approve of that, Pamela turned back to her sister. ‘How are you feeling now?’ she asked, her eyes showing tenderness while her tone was daring Rowzee to admit to anything but perfectly fine.

Not right,
was the answer, but what Rowzee said was, ‘Stop worrying about me. We have to think of Blake and Jenny . . .’

‘We are,’ Pamela insisted, ‘but you’ve had a shock . . . Oh no, you didn’t see Jessica, did you?’ she groaned in horror.

‘Not her face,’ Rowzee replied shakily, ‘but I could see something was in the car and it looked like it might be a person. I never dreamt for a minute . . . I didn’t even know that Jessica had a car. No one’s ever mentioned it, have they?’

Once again Pamela turned to Bill.

‘Not that I’m aware of,’ he replied, checking his phone as it rang. ‘Graeme,’ he told them clicking on. ‘He’s on his way. Are you here?’ he asked Graeme, going to the window.

Rowzee and Pamela waited as Bill listened to their brother, making the occasional sound of agreement, or simply nodding, until finally he said, ‘Why don’t you talk to her?’ and bringing the phone to Rowzee he handed it over.

‘How are you?’ Graeme asked her worriedly, ‘and I want the truth.’

‘I’m fine,’ she assured him, ‘just reacting a bit to the shock, but it’s nothing to get worked up about.’ She suddenly felt like crying again, and wished he was there already because she always felt better when he was around, but she had to get a grip or they’d all start making a fuss and that was the last thing she wanted. ‘Have you spoken to Blake?’ she asked. ‘Does he know yet?’

‘Yes, Andee’s been to see him, and if you’re sure you’re fine I’m going to offer to drive him to Devon.’

‘Oh yes, you must do that,’ she insisted. ‘He shouldn’t be allowed to drive himself, not today. Do you know how he took it?’

‘Andee didn’t go into detail, but I think we can work it out.’

Since she could, she said, ‘You must tell him that we’re here for him, and if there’s anything we can do he has only to ask.’

‘Of course. And please tell Pamela that she’s to call me if she’s worried about you . . . Better still, let me speak to her myself.’

Reluctantly passing the phone over, Rowzee met Pamela’s meaningful glare as Pamela assured their brother that she’d be taking no more nonsense from stubborn old women who shouldn’t have been out walking the dog for so long in the first place; the instant she detected anything close to a funny turn coming over the tiresome baggage again she’d be dialling 999.

Fortunately Pamela hadn’t carried out her threat yet, but there was still time and without Bill to stop her – he’d gone to see if there was anything he could do over at the woods – Rowzee could almost feel her sister’s fingers itching.

Deciding that the only way to get some peace was to feign sleep, Rowzee closed her eyes and attempted a little snore to make it more convincing.

‘You don’t fool me,’ Pamela told her crisply. ‘I know you want me to leave you alone, so I will, but only for a few minutes while I go downstairs to ring Charles.’

‘He’ll probably be at the woods himself by now,’ Rowzee reminded her.

Agreeing that he probably would, Pamela said, ‘Then I’ll fix you something to eat, because I don’t think you’ve had anything yet today.’

Rowzee hadn’t, but she was a very long way from hungry, and even further, she had to concede,
from being ready to tell Graeme and Pamela about her cancer. She’d decided she would though, mainly because of what Mr Mervin had told her, but it couldn’t happen while all this was going on. Blake and his family had to come first; she was determined about that. In a week or two, maybe after the funeral, which they’d all want to go to, she’d sit her brother and sister down and tell them about her situation and what she intended to do. Not the Dignitas thing, she knew she couldn’t tell them about that yet, but she’d had another idea that was starting to grow on her.

‘Mrs C’s cunning plan,’ her students used to cry jubilantly when she’d come up with an often wild solution to getting them what they needed for a play, or a trip, or on one memorable occasion a sleepover in a haunted theatre.

In this instance her idea wasn’t so much wild as drastic, maybe even dangerous, but if she presented it the right way she liked to think that Pamela and Graeme would be up for it too.

It was early the next morning when Andee parked in the leafy quadrant outside Kesterly police station before going inside to meet her old boss, Detective Inspector Gould.

Though she felt tense and unrested following a near sleepless night at her mother’s, her mind was alert as she greeted her ex-colleagues on the way through, many of whom appeared eager to chat, but she didn’t have the time. There was a lot to get through today, and already, before any unforeseen circumstances arose, she couldn’t imagine achieving even half of what she’d like to before the sun went down.

‘First and foremost,’ she’d told Graeme when they’d met at a bar in the old town last night, ‘I need to find out who Jessica’s car hit before it went off the road, because Charles thinks that’s who’s been blackmailing him.’

‘So someone else has known about the accident all this time and not come forward?’

‘It would seem so.’ She had yet to speak to Gina, who might also have known, but she still couldn’t get hold of her.

‘Do the police know about the blackmail?’

‘Charles told them himself. He’s got nothing to hide now it’s all about to come out anyway. Incidentally, I had a call from Leo Johnson. Apparently Charles has been charged with failing to report an accident, and they’ve let him go on police bail.’

‘Will it get any more serious than that?’

‘I’m not sure that it can. In a legal sense it’s the only offence he’s committed. From a moral standpoint . . . Well, that’s a whole other story.’

‘So is he still at the Hall?’

‘As far as I know. I tried calling a while ago, but he’s not picking up.’

Seeming as unsurprised by that as she was, Graeme said, ‘The sky was alive with helicopters when I was at the Coach House earlier. I guess it was mainly press, trying to get shots of the swamp. I believe the police are having trouble lifting the car out.’