The Silent Friend, page 7
‘We have go. You have to go. Now!’ she shouted at him.
He looked at her, and for the first time, it was clear that she was in control. This whole racket had been Carl’s thing, he was the one in control, but he’d lost it the moment he’d become an attacker instead of a thief. Getting his hands bloodied was not his role and it had clearly shaken him. He seemed unable to think.
Louise stepped up. She pulled herself to her full height, tried to feel strong, tried to feel calm and convince herself that this was all just part of a day’s work.
‘What did you touch? Wipe it down. Then, go out the back, remember, the latch is loose? Cover your hand with something, wiggle the handle until it gives and slowly, quietly, walk out.’ She looked out towards the back door in the lean-to off the kitchen. ‘There’s some gardening tools. Take some. If anyone sees you, make yourself look like the gardener. When you’re away, get rid of them.’
Carl nodded mutely. He looked around him, wiped down a few surfaces with the cloth he took out of his coat pocket, looked back at the man, and then he left.
Louise heard the back latch go and Carl run. She caught the outline of him as he ran past the window on the side of the house, to the front. He should have taken the quiet route out of the back garden. She assumed he would have.
Shit.
She crouched down to check on the man, trying not to touch him or to get his blood on her hands. She’d have his blood on her hands as it was, it didn’t need to be literal. He was in a bad way. She had to help him. Running from the room, she noticed a delivery van in the street. The driver was at a house opposite. He seemed to have several parcels and packets but she knew from their scoping out that he’d likely be calling here next. She didn’t have much time.
Louise covered her shaking hands with her sweatshirt sleeve and picked up the phone. It was one of those really old-fashioned ones with the circular dial in the centre and the time it took between each number was painful.
Finally…
‘Emergency services, which service do you require please?’
A gruff, deep voice came out of her. She sounded ridiculous but she didn’t sound like herself at least.
‘Ambulance…’ She hesitated. ‘And police. Think there’s been a break-in.’ The second the words were out she was cursing herself. Why? Why did she bring attention to the fact that they’d need to see if anything was taken? Had Carl taken anything?
She spoke out the address and then left the phone still connected, If they needed anything more they could trace it or whatever they did. She had things she needed to do.
First, keeping her hands covered, she turned the latch on the front door so if anyone pushed it, it would open without issue.
Next, she grabbed a cushion from the sofa and took it to the man. She had thoughts of placing his head on it to make him more comfortable but looking at him she thought better of it. A head injury, a neck injury perhaps. She didn’t want to risk making it worse when trying to make it better. She’d fucked up enough, she didn’t need to add to it, so she put it back.
And finally, she grabbed the entire tea tray, feeling guilty at what she was about to do, knowing the story of how it was a wedding gift, nearly sixty-five years previously. But now it was evidence, covered in her fingerprints. It was what could catch her and, as bad as she felt about it, she was not going to let that happen. She took it to the back door and noting a shed at the side of the garden, let herself out and dipped inside it. She found a dark corner and let the tray drop. Tea, biscuits and all. It smashed with a horrifying noise into many shattered fragments. Grabbing the broom, she swept the pieces into a corner, covering them with sacking that she found on a shelf. This place was covered in cobwebs. No one would be looking in here for a tea set they didn’t know was missing. It would lie here unnoticed and forgotten by everyone.
Apart from her perhaps. This moment would define the rest of her life. It would be the day she rejected what she had become and walked away. Which is exactly what she did. Taking pause to check that she was unnoticed, that no one had heard the sound of breaking crockery and come to see, she let herself out of the shed. Slowly walking to the end of the garden, which was still beautifully kept with neatly shaped rose bushes and plants she didn’t recognise, she climbed over the garden fence at the very back of the property. It led onto a tree-lined pathway running along the back of the whole road of houses, funnelling out onto the busy main road. She walked away; the sounds of sirens and birdsong ringing in her ears.
Louise hoped it was not too late. For him. For her. For everyone.
It had not to be too late.
9
PRESENT DAY
‘Let me get that, you keep your feet up. Bump needs rest,’ Louise said as she stood to go and answer the door.
‘Bump needs another set of legs so I can swap mine out when I’m tired!’ Isabelle laughed as she settled back down onto the sofa. She took a deep breath and rubbed the stretching curve of her stomach. ‘Ooof!’ she said, as another cramp came. The doctor had told her cramps at this stage were completely normal as the abdomen stretched and moved to make space, but Louise could see the flash of fear on Isabelle’s face each time they came, still not convinced that the scare had been nothing more than that. Louise smiled reassuringly as she walked past into the hall.
When she came back she was followed by an elderly lady, slowly shuffling into the living room, one hand on a walking stick, one on the door frame to steady her. Louise walked ahead of her in order to help her to the high-backed chair opposite Isabelle. The lady was polite but resisted this help, glancing sideways at Louise with an expression that she could not read.
‘Glynis! How lovely! Have a seat,’ Isabelle said, her whole being brightening as she welcomed her guest. There had been precisely no visitors as far as Louise knew in the weeks since Carl had been arrested and taken into custody. Isabelle’s stomach had grown, as had her understanding that this pregnancy was going to be something she undertook alone, and the parenting side of it likely to be similar once the baby was born. Isabelle had never done anything by herself and she had been understandably completely overwhelmed. Louise had done her best to assure her that she would be here, that she would help as much as Isabelle would let her. She had tried to reassure her that Carl might not be found guilty and could be home soon, but apparently his lawyers were not as optimistic and Carl had prepared Isabelle for the worst.
‘Who’s your friend?’ Glynis asked, rather more sharply than Louise thought necessary. She didn’t know her from Adam after all.
‘I’m Louise, nice to meet you!’ Louise said. She had won over more old women than she’d had hot dinners. The men were usually easier, a pretty young face helping to squash any questions that might have niggled at them. Women were harder, they wanted more information from you before letting their guard down. Women in general were a better judge of character, Louise believed. They had honed the skill by battling years of bullshit but they had also had years of knocks to their self-confidence. Years of being told they are less than. And this was the weakness that Louise was usually able to hook into and use. She didn’t want this woman to give Isabelle any doubts about her. Isabelle was the only thing keeping Louise going. Louise’s sole point of focus.
‘This is Glynis – an old friend of my gran’s,’ Isabelle explained.
‘Not so old, eh, thank you!’ Glynis said a touch harshly.
‘You take the weight off and sit down and I’ll bring everyone some refreshments. You look worn out!’ Louise smiled as she glided into the kitchen, keeping one ear on the chit-chat that was happening without her. She flung a few carefully chosen items on a tray. She’d make tea in a pot if she could find one. People of a certain generation didn’t hold sway with tea bags in mugs, she knew that one. A lovely elderly lady, once won over, had taught Louise how to make what she had called ‘proper tea’.
‘Warm the pot first, else you’ll shock the tea leaves. Always leaves, none of this dust you get in tea bags these days. A cup of tea is a thing worth doing properly in my opinion.’ She’d gone on to explain the minutiae of the perfect brewing process before handing Louise a cup. She’d not been able to tell the difference to be honest but knew that sometimes the ritual was enough to make it feel special. Louise had felt particularly bad about doing her over, she’d been such a nice lady. But collateral damage came with the territory and you had to just block that out.
Louise rummaged in the cupboards until she found a teapot, dusty and clearly unused. Not a mark on it anywhere. She took it out, rinsed the dust off and boiled the kettle. She found a packet of biscuits in the cupboard, also untouched and laid them out on a plate. In a different sort of house she’d have looked for a doily to place underneath them but she knew that Isabelle wouldn’t have any.
Walking back into the room, trying to feel a nonchalance that she didn’t possess, Louise put the tea tray down on the coffee table. Why was it a coffee table and not tea? she thought as she put it down.
‘Why are they called coffee tables and not tea?’ Isabelle mused out loud. Louise chuckled. They really were meant to be friends; she just knew it.
‘I was just thinking that!’ she said and they both laughed.
‘It’s cos coffee got more popular and it stuck.’ Glynis said, a little less stiffly as she surveyed the tray that Louise had prepared. She nodded at it. ‘Glad to see that you know how to make a proper cuppa.’
‘Whereas I didn’t even know we had a teapot!’ Isabelle laughed, trying to smooth out the tension that had somehow developed in the room.
‘Somethings are worth doing properly aren’t they, Glynis?’ Louise said as she smiled the largest smile she could manage, despite something niggling at the pit of her stomach. The hairs on the back of her neck had risen, her body was trying to warn her of something but her brain could not settle on what that was. She shook her head. Glynis’ lack of warmth was putting her off and she was out of practice.
Louise poured drinks for them all, handed them out and sat down on a chair to the edge of the room. Present but not inserting herself into a conversation that it seemed Glynis did not entirely want her in. She’d bide her time; she’d win her round. Softly, softly and all that.
‘So really no one’s been in? Bunch of judgemental sods the lot of ’em. It’s not like you did anything, even if he is guilty!’
Louise flinched.
‘Exactly, Glyn! But he isn’t, he really isn’t. He’s told me all about it and even his solicitor said that he’s been set up or something. He just wouldn’t do something like that. It’s horrible. The man is going to be OK, thank God, but he doesn’t remember enough one way or the other.’
‘How come, love?’
‘Post-trauma dementia they say, but he wasn’t all there before. So. He’s just old.’ Isabelle paused and then added, ‘Sorry.’
‘No offence taken, love. I know my memory isn’t what it was. I know as much to know that I’ve forgotten and that’s hard enough.’
Louise’s heart rocketed into her throat as realisation dawned. She suddenly knew why Glynis’ presence was putting her off, making her tense. She worked to keep her face neutral as terror unfolded inside her.
She knew her. She was one of them. One of the people she’d worked on with Carl. The close call that they should have paid attention to but hadn’t. They hadn’t learned from it, or at least it seemed that Carl hadn’t. He’d got too greedy, not paid enough attention to how the rest of it was unfolding.
It had been clear to Louise at the time that it wasn’t going to work. Glynis was too sharp, if not 100 per cent, she had people looking out for her, and as Louise now knew, she was too close to home. A friend of Isabelle’s. Their usual clients, as Carl called them, were confused and lonely. Easy to suggest things to, easy to make them believe what you’d just told them. Glynis answered back. She was not the placid old thing Carl had scouted her out to be. They’d abandoned things midway, Louise using the code they’d agreed beforehand. She asked to go to the toilet and had accidentally slammed the door shut and then shouted, ‘Sorry, the draught caught the door!’ out to the mark. It was Carl’s sign to leave and leave immediately. Only he hadn’t. He’d taken the chance to pocket the money that he’d found in an old biscuit tin. Louise had been furious with him. She recalled the argument.
‘I said no. I used the code! She was far too curious and now she knows my face. Mine not yours. You should have left it!’
‘It’s fine, she won’t notice. And even if she did, she won’t think it was you. You’d not have had time to go from the bathroom to the kitchen and back. It’s fine. Chillax!’
‘What’s the point of a code if you ignore it?!’
‘Fuck’s sake, Lou. Nothing went wrong. Leave it.’
‘That’s not the poi—’
‘I said leave it!’ he’d growled and she had known that she had to be quiet. She never knew exactly what Carl would do if she didn’t drop things, but she knew very well that it was something that she didn’t want to find out. There was a very cold, very angry thread running through him, wrapped around the charm that had drawn Louise into all this in the first place.
Back in the room with Glynis and Isabelle, Louise could feel her face getting hot. Glynis hadn’t said anything yet but was still looking at her intently, questioningly.
Louise clenched her jaw tightly. She couldn’t be recognised, not now. She was only just getting to know Isabelle, to get to know her situation, Carl’s situation. She needed to know if she was off the hook, or what Carl might be saying inside. She needed far more information to decide what best to do. And besides, if she had to leave now, then Isabelle really would be alone and Louise didn’t want that. If Louise could stay under the radar, well, that worked for everyone, didn’t it? But if Glynis was about to drop her in it… Louise’s mind was racing – how fast could she get gone if she needed to?
‘Are you OK, Louise? You’ve gone all pale,’ Isabelle said.
Louise swallowed hard and tried to speak. Glynis wasn’t saying anything. Why?
‘Fine. Just tired.’
‘You’ve been looking after me and bump so well, we’ve neglected you. I’m sorry,’ Isabelle said.
‘It’s fine, honestly. I’m fine.’
‘So how’s the baby doing anyway, love?’ Glynis asked.
Isabelle’s face switched immediately from concerned to glowing.
‘Really well, thanks to Louise and her TLC. She’s growing perfectly and all is fine. I’m fine too, feeling stronger every day, after all that early sickness. I’m nearly at the third trimester now.’
‘The what, love?’
‘The last three months. I’m nearly six months gone. It’s going so fast! I’ll need to get ready soon. I had hoped that Carl would be out by now. His trial hasn’t been announced yet but his solicitor is doubtful it will be done and over by my due date.’ She went quiet. ‘He should be here. He’s missing so much.’ You could see the hurt and fear behind Isabelle’s eyes and her not-quite fast enough masking of it. ‘Luckily, I have Louise here to help me.’ She then flashed such a warm and grateful smile at Louise that Louise felt her heart melt. They were actual, genuine friends. She’d not had that before. She would do anything to keep it. She’d never had anyone to fight for before, nor had someone in her corner, not for a long time. It was a good feeling. She liked it.
‘That’s nice, love. So…’ Glynis said, turning back to look at Louise. ‘How do you know each other? Have I seen you round here before? You look… familiar.’ A look crossed her face, an inkling of recognition that made Louise feel immediately nauseous. ‘Have we met?’
Louise’s throat dried up. Her palms, still gripped into fists, were immediately clammy. She opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out but a whisper. She cleared her throat.
Get it under control, Louise. Calm. Confidence. Bluster it out. You can do this.
She cleared her throat again.
‘Sorry, bit of dust or something caught the back of my throat. Ahem! Sorry!’
Suddenly a light bulb went off in Glynis.
‘Ah, I’ve got it! You were that church girl, weren’t you? Came round to chat to this old dear. Company for the elderly of the parish. That was it, wasn’t it? You didn’t stay long though! Rushed off after using the loo!’ She cackled. ‘I knew I recognised you. Been bugging me since I got here!’
Louise felt her heart stop as she watched her for signs of anything else, any anger, any fear. Anything that indicated that Glynis was aware of that her missing tea caddy money had anything to do with Louise’s visit.
‘You hear such horror stories, don’t ya?’ Glynis continued. ‘Old folks being distracted by some nice young person coming to listen to the same old stories, come to give them the time of day that they don’t normally get. And all the while some other sod is rifling through their things, taking what they can find. ’Ere… is that what they think Carl did?’ She glanced at Louise before turning the question on Isabelle.
Louise’s pulse was racing so hard she felt dizzy. She needed to think. Think. Was Glynis playing with her? Did she… did she know? Had she actually connected the dots and was biding her time before exposing her to Isabelle? Like a cat with a mouse, letting her run from paw to paw, batting her gently before pouncing in for the kill.
‘I… no… I… I don’t think so,’ Isabelle stuttered, caught off guard. ‘He didn’t do it though, anyway. It wasn’t him.’ She asserted. ‘But no, no one has mentioned anyone else.’
Glynis smiled.
Why was she here now? Louise wondered. What did she want? If it was to support Isabelle then this line of conversation wasn’t working. Had she heard about Louise from someone? Though who? And what would they say? Or was she just an old gossip?
Louise was so tired of these complex levels of truth. There was always a hidden element, something said or unsaid that changed the meaning. It was exhausting. She’d had enough. She just wanted there to be one truth that everyone knew. What happened wasn’t her fault. It wasn’t the plan. It was never the plan. And even the plan wasn’t her plan.
