An hour later I was walking past the church, up to the dark cottage in the valley, with an insulated carton of cooked runner beans and scrambled eggs under my arm. How different to my previous attempt to help the Walkers, this felt. A mother’s wisdom - just turn up with something useful, versus the folly of youth - stand at the gate and have a shall I/shan’t I moment.
The place looked almost inhabited. The curtains were open and the weeds in the front garden mown. I knocked and Sid’s dad opened. He was sober. I peered through the door. The lights didn’t need to be on as someone had cut the trees around the windows back.
'Hallo, Millie. Fancy you dropping by. We were expecting Charley any minute, or Sid, to pick the children up. Sid has long shifts on Saturday, and now that we ...' He hesitated. Maybe he thought I didn’t know about the alcohol problem in the Walker household. I helped him out.
'Now that you aren’t drinking anym
Day 14.Sunday.I woke at six thirty. I hadn’t heard Charley rise. I assume he was already next door, sorting the children out, so that Sid could have a lie in. What drives that man? Is he going for beatification? Silly. He’d have to be martyred first.I dressed, walked home, and found the early morning air unseasonably cold. No wonder. I was still in my shag-me shorts and shirt from the previous evening. My bed looked even colder and more uninviting than the walk home, so I shoved Sonya to one side, crawled in beside her, and snuggled up. I remember a physics lesson on radioactive decay. At the time I decided Sonya - then only about seven - must have a plutonium core, gently decaying to heat the universe - perfect to cuddle up to on a cold morning. That girl will never want for the love of a good man in her life.Sonya turned out at eight and turned me out with her.'It
‘Why I left with tears in my eyes? I don’t think I was crying,’ she lied. She paused to consider, then said, 'Your dad can guess. Ask him.' 'I have, and he said, ‘another time.’' 'Another time it is then. Next question.' I looked intently down the newly raked sand path, between the roses, toward a beautifully overgrown wall at the perimeter of the rose garden. Should I argue? No point. If she and my dad don’t want to talk about it now, then I should leave it. Next question it is. 'You didn’t ride out on Friday with the hunt, presumably because you had sold your field hunter. Why would you do that?' 'It was a very valuable horse - I needed to raise some quick capital and I knew the company bank wouldn’t help.' 'Come on, Vera. That’s only confounded the riddle. The most that nag could have fetched is a couple of grand and you have that as pin money.' She peered at me over her reading glasses, which she always wore when eating. I
'So, no one else cottoned on?' 'People may have thought us totally bereft of any common sense, but once the gossip mill was grinding, they lost all sense of reality. Perhaps they liked the idea that her ladyship had a couple of bastards by another man and gave them to a childless farmer in Scotland with a big financial reward. I think every other interpretation of my disappearance was too bizarre to be believed.' I pondered her tale. Once it had sunk in, I was aghast. 'So, let me get this straight, Vera. Not only did you have the trauma of miscarrying twins, you had to live a lie, deny any local support systems for a grieving mother and go live on your own in some Scottish castle. And you had a husband, who would rather be married to an adulteress than a faithful wife who had the misfortune to miscarry. When was your breakdown? 'Very perceptive. It hasn’t happened yet, although for a while I fought with it every day. 'Past tense?' 'Yes
Back to the tour with a jolt. We stopped at two massive oils of sea battles - by the appearance of the ships, probably Trafalgar or the Battle of the Nile. Someone dared ask a question. 'What was the family connection with the Royal Navy?' 'We don’t know. The artist was a family friend and he liked doing ships. That’s about it really.' They simply liked pictures of sea battles, which is a bit like me covering my bedroom wall with pictures of Flanders ca. 1916. I had made a decision as I started the tour, come what may, my lips had to stay zipped. These tour guides don’t understand critical questions. This whole exercise was very dangerous ground for me. The guides saw it as their chance to convince the tourists that the British Aristocracy were beyond reproach. I don’t blame them for that. They have children to feed and bills to pay and there isn’t much around Lower Butts not controlled from this house. And then we came to the picture of some
Day 17.Wednesday. Our market garden is crowned by a single storey thirties bungalow, with the loft built out to accommodate the bedroom Sonya and I share. The estate agent euphemism is ‘dormer window,’ which is daft, because like all other bedrooms you sleep in, it is a ‘dormer’, and if you don’t sleep in it, regardless of shape or position, it isn’t a dormer. One imagines a description like ‘Church Cottages,’ means a terrace of houses. Not so! The first two numbers are at least half a mile away, while our house sits at the front of a vast rambling piece of land, which ends where the fen begins. I always thought the house was a prefab, because of its appearance. I was ignorant. It would have been many prefabs joined together for it is a rambling monster. The windows are quaint. This was August. In winter on such a morning, with a stiff breeze off the sea, my mother and I would go round with huge reels of Se
'I don’t believe you!' That was determination. No, it was worse. That was vehemence from a tour guide. Wonders never cease. How would Charley play this one? How dare that woman call Charley a liar, even though he had twice lied? 'Listen, lady. Don’t make me do a thrice denial. Peter was the last to do that. It probably contributed to the spread of Christianity, and look at the mess that has left us in.' I thought I was going to pee myself. Charley boy, it’s official. I love you. I love you to bits. How can I get rid of Vera and her serf and have a quick leg-trembler behind that grizzly bear? There was silence from downstairs. I believe the technical term in warfare is a ‘standoff’. I heard the steps creaking as Charley began to descend the ladder and pressed my forehead against the spindles. Charley was a tall man. He was holding the trophies above his head, where the tour-guide couldn’t reach. 'Give them here,' she ordered. 'You’ll ne
We walked across the tea-parlour lawn towards her car but didn’t get there. A bench by the duck pond seduced us. Once sat down, I reminded her of Charley’s salvo with which he sunk the tour guide and saved my embarrassment - dative case, thrice denial and all that. 'How could he do that? Even if he’d been practising put-downs, it was an amazing achievement for a kid with Charley’s educational background.' 'He does a lot for Sidonie, doesn’t he?' 'You’ve lost me.' 'I think he is totally smitten with you,' she explained, 'and knows the only way to keep you is to close the educational gap. I think your friend Sidonie is match-making by giving him tips in return for him helping her so much with the children. I bet you she is in on this one.' I felt myself go as red as a beetroot. Vera noticed. 'Why does my suggestion embarrass you?' 'I’m shocked that anyone would go to that much trouble to get me - half the parish has dawke
I was on fire. Wind farms were no longer on the agenda. I know that when my adrenaline is pumping, I can make mincemeat of anyone. (OK Vera. I get it now.) I put a business plan in his hand, gave one to Vera, told her to sit down and then sat down some distance from her. That prevented him giving Vera too many withering looks. I would wait for him to ignore me and glare at Vera, and then interrupt him dominating her, by using a bit more lip to make him look my way again. Divide and rule, that was my plan. When I looked up again, I saw how angry he was. I think I could have fried bacon on that forehead. 'Now to the business plan, Mr Ferguson?' He ignored me and addressed Vera. 'Why do we need a business plan? The electricity company has already shown me how it will work. I sent you all the details. All I need is the land-owner signature. I probably don’t need that but my solicitor advised it out of courtesy.' Vera looked helplessly at me.
Day 331. Friday.Nearly a year has gone by and much has happened.My Diary. I shall never show Vera this diary and she will never ask to see it. It’s better that way. It’s behind us.Vera’s pregnancy. Nothing to report. She either got carried away with her diagnosis, she was lying for reasons only known to her, or she lost the baby. Whatever, if she wants to talk about it, she will. She doesn’t seem fussed, now she has Sid in bed and Tom and Sandra to mother.But why would she lie about that? I have my theory (as always).Charley saw himself as the surrogate father and would never have let the children down. Only by bringing Charley into the house, could she hope to get Sid and the children for herself. Trying to exclude Charley was too risky. He would certainly have been hurt after all he had done for them and may have l
'A lot has happened since then. I expected more recent thoughts.''It all has to start at that point. If we extrapolate back from all points around today’s Lower Butts, we end up at that fateful morning. That’s where big bang happened. Let’s start at that moment. We can consider distance travelled since then.''That’s fine by me,' she affirmed.'I’m going to assume that you knew Sid had lesbian leanings. I wasn’t sure. You were!'I waited for confirmation. She remained quiet so I took that as a ‘yes,’ and proceeded.'You wanted her and you wanted the children she looked after, so you hired me so that you could have contact without your scheme becoming obvious to the outside world.'Vera stiffened, sitting upright like a governess wanting to make a good impression. She still said nothing.'Then you moved the Walker children into the stable apartments - with good reason I hasten to add. Ch
'I need to explain that I’ve taken steps to legally adopt Sid, Tom and Sandra. That will give them financial security as they will qualify for a small allowance under the Ashington estate rules. The adoption was what caused me to go to the Walkers that fateful morning. I also had to broach the problem of them quitting the house. The rest you know.'No mention of blackmail this time. She’s a lousy crook. She continued, 'It’s quite likely that my visit sent Cedric over the top, but it was unintentional. Not that intent will help if I’m prosecuted.''Is that really likely?' I asked.'Probably not, but it’s in the hands of the coroner’s court.'Sid went as white as a sheet. She couldn’t cope with the idea that she could lose her protector and patron. The thought of being solely responsible for Tom and Sandra again took her back to the edge every time.I had two more questions.'Why did you exclude me fro
'Every time I deliver Lady Ashington’s evening paper, Charley is just knocking off work and on his way up to the House. It seems he doesn’t go home for a wash these days. I usually bump into him when I’m doing the morning milk and paper deliveries, coming out the house, on his way to work. But then his hair is wet so he must shower somewhere in the House. Has he shacked up with Sid?'Miss Marple, eat your heart out! That girl misses nothing and draws nearly the right conclusions.'So how long ago has this been going on?''Quite a while.''What time did he go up tonight?'She stopped and pondered a sickle moon, silhouetted against the early evening sky.'I stopped for a fag, then did the stables. About half an hour I’d say.'I’m still surprised I didn’t burst into tears, but instead I became as hard as blue steel.'That’s long enough for Charley. Georgie, if I gave you the gossip of a li
It’s a Friday. I don’t know what day anymore. Weeks have passed.I’d taken the mail to the letter box. As I walked by the bus lay-by on my way home, a car pulled up beside me. The window wound down. There was Detective Sergeant Smythe.'Just hop in please, Ms Backhouse. I need to talk to you.''Do I have to? I’m really not in the mood.''We can do this without you being in the mood,' he snapped.He released the door catch and it swung open. He wasn’t taking ‘no’ for an answer. I climbed in beside him and shut the door. The window whirred upwards.'How can I help you, sergeant?'There was a long pause, while he took his notebook and pencil out. His whole demeanour was that of a fifties cop like you see in TV dramas. I put my hand on the door release and moved to get out again. That concentrated his mind.'You will be aware that you owe me.'
Day 64.Friday. I’ve slept on it and decided I’ll have to ask Vera for her version of events, woman to woman, two friends together. It’s the only way to lay the ghost of Sonya’s ramblings. Should I tell her the full Sonya version? We could have a laugh about it. I didn’t. You can’t laugh about the death of two destitute alcoholics, who had once been the kindest, softest villagers - according to village lore that is. I’d never known them and only spoken to them the few times this summer. The walk up to the House after work that day was the loneliest I’d known. I didn’t notice the late summer colours forming, the swifts collecting on the electricity cables, chattering and practising their departure, the squirrels hunting nuts, and the chill in the air as the autumn mists collected over the sea. It must have all been there. It’s there every October. This was the first October that I had carried such a
Day 64.Friday. Five to seven my phone went. It was Sid. 'Vera is in a state. I’ve tried, but she screamed at me. She is so scared of what may happen. Her husband has refused to go with her, which would have silenced a lot of tongues. Take a hairbrush, make-up and a can of hairspray. Maybe she’ll let you work on her.' Seven on the dot, Vera was outside our house. It felt like the old days. I realised how much I missed her company and doing things with her, although, when I view my diary, we did precious little. The day was blustery and I had run down our long path to the front gate, with my hand on my head, holding my beret down. Once in the car, I could see how dishevelled she was. This woman wasn’t coping at any level. I took a chance with my conversation opener. 'Morning sickness?' 'Not really. I suppose Sid told you.' She pulled away towards the A12. 'It
Her message sounded very matter of fact. She was hard to understand, due to background noise and that confused me. It was five thirty in the morning on a lonely country lane in Suffolk. Where did the noise come from? My finger hovered over the delete button, but providentially Sonya came through the office door.'What’s it like to kiss a boy, Millie?'I was incandescent and finished her off as only siblings can.'Jesus Christ, Sonya. Right now, must it be?'Yes - this lad last term - before the holidays. He wanted to kiss me and now he’s going to ask...'I freaked. I shrieked.'Just go and kiss the stupid prat and find out for yourself, and shut the effing door after you!''Sorry,' she flounced, 'I was only asking.'She spun on her heel and headed back out the door.'Well it’s not exactly rhubarb-patch stuff, is it?' I shouted after her.She shut the door with a very loud and ostentatious bang th
'Sorry about the state of the transport Vera. Not exactly your BMW, is it?'Who cares? I’m so pleased to see you. I thought I would have to pay for a taxi home. How much do you know?''Almost everything, except why are they doing this to you?''Larissa! She said she saw me. No problem. She may well have done. She described what I was wearing, which was nothing like what I was wearing and when I handed my clothes over for analysis, the police thought I had destroyed what I was wearing and substituted something else - obviously because I’m trying to hide the blood.''What were you doing at the cottage at five thirty?''What do you think?''How would I know? You had a motive for wanting him out the way. He was the one person in the village who knew about your miscarriage and subsequent charade, wasn’t he?''I thought only your father knew. I regretted having told you that, the moment I‘d said it. Now you have a ho