The Murder Game, page 9
‘If you’re coming, you’d better bring wine.’
The light in Gus’s eyes told her everything she wanted to know.
23
Nina paced the bedroom, trying to dislodge the huge ball of anguish in her chest that was threatening to choke her.
What had happened? Why was Alex dead?
She lifted both hands and pushed them hard against the sides of her head as she marched back and forth, as if to stop her thoughts from colliding, crashing into each other.
She had tried her hardest with Alex, she really had. But the girl had barriers that she’d been unable to break down. She had wanted to get close to her, but when Lucas was away on one of his many trips for the foundation, Alex had rarely shown her face at the house.
‘Give her time,’ Lucas had said. ‘She’s a private person – she’s scared of trusting people. But she likes you, Nina. She thinks you’re perfect for me.’
Lucas had smiled as he said it, but Nina had never been able to rid herself of the belief that Alex thought she was in the way and wanted her brother all to herself.
She had never been told the full story of what had happened when Alex was fourteen. All she knew was that she had been abducted. Nina couldn’t imagine how traumatic that must have been. But since that day Lucas had considered Alex his responsibility.
And now this. Alex was dead. Today, of all days.
Nina let out a deep growl of pain. She shouldn’t even be thinking about the fact that this was her wedding day. Lucas was distraught, but why wouldn’t he let her help him, comfort him?
Nina felt tears trickling down her cheeks, dripping off her chin, and with an angry motion she brushed them away with the back of her hand.
Obviously the wedding had to be cancelled. There was no other choice, but she had so looked forward to seeing the love and pride in her husband’s eyes at all she had achieved, and a sob caught in her throat. It had been a monumental task to organise something so perfect, so exquisite, and she had done it for him. For them both.
She could only imagine how Lucas must be feeling, especially after his argument with Alex the night before. In Nina’s head she could still hear her voice, her hysteria, her fear. And all she could see was Lucas shaking his sister, marching her off down the path, telling her to be quiet. She had never heard him raise his voice to her before.
Nina had intended to ask Lucas what the argument had been about, but he would be so distressed by the fact that she had died right after they had quarrelled. So she vowed then that he must never know what she had seen and heard. If he wanted to tell her, she would help him to see that one argument didn’t negate all the years of love that he had given his sister.
Finally she heard footsteps trudging slowly up the stairs. She turned towards the door, watching, waiting.
Lucas’s face was white, his eyes red-rimmed. She wanted to go to him, but he was holding himself rigid and she sensed he didn’t want to be touched.
She said nothing, waiting for him.
‘I’ve done something, Nina. Something unforgivable.’
Lucas dropped to his knees, lifted his hands to cover his face and wept.
PART TWO
24
One Year Later
My heart is thudding as I drive along the lanes from the village towards Lucas’s house praying I don’t meet anything coming the other way. A vision of the same journey exactly one year ago springs unwanted into my mind. We were so excited, and I had been looking forward to meeting Matt’s friends, although I was slightly daunted by Lucas’s wealth. The one thing I was certain of, though, was our love for each other. And that made us invincible.
Now Matt and I are back, but this time everything is so different. The couple who used to laugh together, to share each other’s hopes and dreams, are a distant memory. I’m driving because Matt only just missed a cyclist he seemed not to have noticed, and now he is engrossed in something apparently fascinating on his phone. He clearly took last year’s jibes about his lack of technical expertise to heart and now has a top-of-the-range iPhone that’s rarely out of his hand. I’m sure he’s not paying attention to what’s on the screen, though. It’s a ruse to stop me from talking to him, and it’s worked. We haven’t spoken more than two words since leaving home.
I feel compelled to break the silence.
‘Matt, do you think just for a moment you could put your phone down and talk to me? You know I’m uncomfortable about coming back here after what happened last time. And why do you think Lucas has chosen this week – this date specifically – for a reunion? It’s an odd thing to do.’
‘He said he wants to celebrate his wedding anniversary. What’s weird about that?’ Matt says, still fiddling with his phone as he talks. The only thing I can imagine he’s doing is adding up how many charging hours he’s losing by being here instead of working. He never used to do that. It’s something else that’s changed – this obsession with money and working every hour that God sends. But I can feel the tension in his body, and I know he’s not happy to be here either.
‘What’s weird is that there never was a wedding. So if they’re married now the anniversary would be on a different date altogether. Look, can I just pull over like we did last time, so we can talk?’
Matt glances at me with a look that suggests it’s a ridiculous idea. ‘We’ll be late.’
I sigh with frustration. Matt was never a great talker, but now he has withdrawn almost completely into himself and his barriers seem impenetrable.
For a while I thought the change was due to grief at Alex’s death. I hadn’t realised how fond he had been of her until Andrew told me last year. The two of us were sitting at the gates of Polskirrin, tasked with turning away the army of guests due to arrive for what should have been the wedding of the year.
‘Matt was always kind to Alex,’ he said. ‘Much kinder than either me or Nick, and I think she had a bit of a crush on him when she was in her early teens.’
I’ve tried to understand, to give him time, but instead of gradually returning to the old Matt, each day he grows quieter, more remote. Now the silences are charged with an emotion I don’t understand. Sometimes I find him looking at me, his eyes sad. But when my eyes meet his he looks away and takes another sip of the whisky he has taken to drinking.
I have always felt that Polskirrin was in some way the catalyst for all that is now wrong with my marriage, although I’m not ready to admit defeat, not quite yet. Surely there is something to resurrect? Until today I almost believed that to be true, but now as we approach Polskirrin the stark contrast between then and now hits me full on. I have to accept that Matt has fallen out of love with me, and I don’t know if it’s possible to rekindle a fire that has died.
My eyes burn at the thought, and I blink away hot tears, forcing my mind away from my husband and whatever ails him – or maybe us.
I want to say something about Alex, about how desperately sad it is that she killed herself on the eve of her brother’s wedding – something I’m still struggling to understand. From what little I’ve read about the mind of suicide victims, I imagine that to Alex it seemed like the only way to eliminate the pain and torment that life appeared to offer her.
It will be strange to be at Polskirrin without her, even though we only saw her at dinner and caught brief glimpses of her during the day. The spectre of her was always with us though, as if everyone was thinking about her but no one wanted to mention her name. In a strange way she was more present than if she had been sitting in the sunshine with us, chatting, an active part of the group. I am ashamed to say I have felt angry with her sometimes, because it feels that as she swam out to sea she took my marriage with her.
There is little chance to say anything more as Polskirrin comes into view. This time we don’t stop to stare. We drive in silence towards the gates, and when I risk a sideways glance Matt’s eyes are narrowed as if he is steeling himself for what’s ahead. When he sees me looking at him, his gaze falls back to his phone.
It’s not until we reach the entrance that I recall the full scale of Lucas’s home. Not just the house, but the outbuildings, the gardens. I pull the car up at the double gates that had opened as if by magic when we arrived last time, welcoming us. Today they are closed, as if forbidding us to enter. I feel an almost irresistible urge to turn round and go home, certain that once we drive through and the gates close behind us, we will be trapped. My eyes go to the wrought-iron fence that surrounds the grounds. Six feet high and decorative, it feels like a prison perimeter, its sharp finials waiting to rip the flesh of anyone who tries to climb over.
I lower my window to press the buzzer. I’ve stopped too far away though, so I have to open the door and get out. The heat is oppressive, as hot as it was last year, but this time it seems heavier.
There is no welcome greeting over the intercom – just a click and a buzz as the gates slowly glide open. Such is my state of mind that even this seems sinister – two inanimate objects moving without apparent human intervention.
‘Get a grip,’ I mumble under my breath as I get back in the car.
‘What?’ Matt says rudely.
‘Nothing.’ We approach the house. ‘Look, there’s Lucas.’
The tall figure of Lucas Jarrett steps out of the front door. I park, and he walks towards the car. Finally Matt pushes his telephone back into the pocket of his chinos.
As I open the car door the heat hits me again.
‘It’s roasting out there,’ I say to Matt.
‘You’ll just have to go for a swim to cool off.’
I swivel round to stare at him, but he is climbing out of the car, raising an arm to Lucas. I was about to say that among all of my concerns about coming back here, I had never given a thought to the idea of swimming in the sea in the exact spot where Alex died. I’m not sure I’ll be able to do that. But he’s gone.
As Matt strides across the gravel to shake Lucas’s hand and clasp him on the shoulder, I step out of the car. Hiding behind a large pair of sunglasses, I stand for a moment in the shade of a tree, giving my husband and his friend a moment before I finally make my way to where Lucas is waiting.
‘Jemma.’ He leans towards me for the obligatory kiss on each cheek. ‘You’re looking well.’
It’s good of Lucas to say so, but I know it isn’t true. I’ve gained weight, had my hair cut into a style that doesn’t suit me, and I have dark circles under my eyes, currently hidden by the sunglasses.
It’s only three months since I saw him. I’d been asked to attend Alex’s inquest because, other than Lucas and the housekeeper, I was the only one to see her body before the police arrived. Despite the fact that it wasn’t obligatory for anyone else to go, I was surprised Nina wasn’t there. Lucas told me he’d asked her not to come because it was too devastating; neither Nina nor anyone else should have to sit through it if they didn’t need to.
Matt had taken Lucas at his word, and even though I would have appreciated his company and was sure Lucas would have too, he refused to come, citing pressure of work.
Fortunately not everyone had felt the same, and I was pleased when Andrew slipped into the seat beside me.
‘I thought I’d lend a bit of moral support,’ he’d whispered, leaning across me to give Lucas’s arm a squeeze. But Lucas had no more than glanced his way, and who could blame him? What a dreadful day it must have been for him. He’d appeared tightly wound, his movements jerky, those pale amber eyes burning fiercely, his hands clamped into fists.
The coroner had outlined the facts, including Alex’s history of depression and the content of the video, and I could only imagine Lucas’s pain as the verdict of suicide was given.
Today he seems different again, and nothing like the affable Lucas I met a year ago. There is a hard glitter to his eyes, and as he smiles his jaw is set. There’s an intensity to him that I am certain wasn’t there before, but it’s hardly surprising.
‘How have you been, Lucas?’ I ask with genuine concern.
‘I’m fine. I don’t think I ever thanked you properly for coming to the inquest, Jemma. It was a long way for you to travel, and I barely spoke to you. I’m sorry about that. Now, come on in out of the sun. Nina’s looking forward to seeing you both. Let me take one of your cases.’
The men walk ahead each carrying a bag, Matt’s free hand reaching up to rest on Lucas’s shoulder. Their voices become a low hum as they make their way up the three steps to the open front door.
I stop and look around. Now that the men are inside it is quiet, with only the sounds of the countryside breaking through the silence – birdsong, a distant tractor and the murmur of the sea. It is a slice of heaven, and I wish with all my heart that it hadn’t also been the scene of such a tragedy.
25
Nina sat on the bed, her head bowed. She hadn’t wanted Lucas to invite everyone here again, but he’d brushed her objections aside. ‘It’s something I have to do, Nina. And I need you to help me.’
She had done as he’d asked. She rarely refused him anything if it was within her power to give. She wanted so much for him to be happy, for the tension in his body to ease, but as the weeks passed the strain around his eyes intensified and there was a tautness to him that scared her. It felt as if at the least thing he might snap in two, and she did what she could to soothe him.
If the days were bad, the nights were worse. Lucas tossed and turned, sometimes moaning in his sleep, and while she understood his sorrow this felt like so much more. Nina hated herself for it, but she couldn’t help wondering if what he was feeling was guilt.
She often thought back to that morning when Alex’s body had been found. She remembered the look of dismay on her husband’s face when he told her he had done something unforgivable, and although she’d asked him what he meant, he had brushed the question aside, saying he was simply out of his mind with grief.
She had struggled to believe him, but there was nothing she could do except watch as he drove himself with work, travelling far more often than before. And when he was at home he took himself off, day after day, walking the coastal path or sitting down on the beach, alone.
She was certain that Lucas blamed himself, and had resolved that he must never know she’d seen him arguing with Alex just before she killed herself. If that meant she had to lie to him, so be it.
‘That night, Nina, the night Alex died. Where were you?’ Lucas had asked on the day their guests left and they were finally alone.
‘You know where I was. I told you I wanted an early night ready for the next day, so after I’d finished clearing up, I went to bed.’
Lucas had stared at her for longer than she was comfortable with, then turned and walked out of the room. He had never mentioned it since.
Maybe that had been her chance. If she’d told him what she had seen she could have comforted him, helped him to understand that he mustn’t blame himself. But she had missed her opportunity.
Nina sighed and stood up. Everyone would be arriving, settling into their rooms. She wondered what they were thinking, what they might be expecting the next few days to bring.
Whatever their expectations, she knew they would be wrong.
26
There is no boy to carry our bags upstairs this time, and Lucas hefts the larger of the two through the house and up the outside staircase – the easiest route, apparently. He leaves us at the French windows and says he’ll see us downstairs on the terrace when we’re ready.
‘Cocktails at six,’ he says.
I remember being thrilled with this room last year, the beautiful antique furniture, the doors leading on to our very own balcony and the sweet smell of apricots. They are there again – the apricots – in exactly the same spot, with an identical fragrance. I feel I have been transported back in time.
I wish we hadn’t been given the same room. The sense of familiarity only serves to highlight the difference between then and now. Matt sits on the bed and pulls off his shoes, suddenly talkative.
‘I’m glad they’ve given us this room again. It’s the best one in the house, apart from Lucas and Nina’s, you know. Anyway, Lucas says we’re the first to arrive, so I’m going for a swim before the others get here. Andrew and Chandra should be arriving in about an hour. I wonder if she’s still as batty?’
I like Chandra. She means no one any harm, as far as I can tell. Then I remember Andrew, how comfortable I had felt with him and how I had enjoyed the time I spent with him the evening after the inquest. I had booked into a hotel and we had eaten dinner together. I had only just prevented myself from sharing my worries about Matt and my marriage with him. But it was as if he sensed my unhappiness because afterwards, as I walked with him from the hotel to his car, he gave me a hug.
‘Take care of yourself, Jemma. You were brilliant today, and I know how difficult it must have been.’
I clung on to him for a moment or two longer than I should have, feeling the warmth from his broad chest and allowing the tension to seep from my body.
I push the memory from my mind. ‘In what way is Chandra batty?’ I ask Matt, thinking he was never this uncharitable in the past.
‘Come on, Jemma. She’s a bit intense, isn’t she? I don’t know what Andrew’s doing. Well, that’s not quite true – I know exactly what he’s doing. But she’s not his type at all.’
Matt looks at me with a frown. He’s expecting me to say something in Andrew or Chandra’s defence, but I can’t see the point. Matt seems at odds with the world right now. After a moment he stands up to unfasten his trousers.
‘Whatever. Do you know where my shorts are? I’ll unpack properly later.’
I open the suitcase and rummage around until I find Matt’s swimming shorts, wondering if I am the only one who has an issue with going in the sea at the cove.
Matt is now standing naked in the middle of the room, and I feel a pang for all that is lost. I wonder what would happen if I were to reach out to him, but I’m too scared to try. We rarely make love now, and when we do there’s a new intensity to it, but none of the intimacy. It leaves me aching with sadness and regret.
