In Another Life, page 4
‘It’s a long time since warm milk in the infants,’ Loretta said.
‘Isn’t it? Did I tell you I’ve got a new job? At Radio Rentals, so if you need a new telly I’m your woman.’
‘Congratulations! That’s great.’
Liz pulled a face. ‘Not as great as your swanky new job but the pay’s not bad for a girl with only four O levels.’
They chattered on, sharing gossip about the people they knew until close to midnight when Liz left to go home.
‘See you soon. Don’t forget us,’ she said, wrapping Loretta in her arms and pulling her in for a tight squeeze.
‘As if! Liz and Loretta forever!’ she replied, and meant it, but actually this whole evening had an end-of-era feeling to it. Loretta was moving on and whilst she didn’t want to accept it there were bound to be some changes, some things that got left behind. And some people.
It was almost two o’clock when Loretta heard shouting from inside the house where, inevitably, some of the partygoers had drifted. A few people had left, but the party was still going strong, as if the remainder were pushing on through to morning.
‘She’s outside,’ someone said. And then, ‘Where’s Nat?’
Loretta looked over but didn’t get up. If someone wanted her, she wasn’t hard to find. There seemed to be a little gaggle of people tipping out through the kitchen door and into the yard.
‘That’s Etta, in the red top,’ someone said, pointing at her, and then she saw that there were two uniformed police officers at the centre of the group. One of the neighbours must have complained about the noise.
Loretta stood up, raising her palms in supplication as if they were coming to arrest her.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said before the police had a chance to ask her. ‘Is it too loud? We’ll turn it down. Nat! Can you turn the music down.’
The policemen kept approaching, nothing about their demeanour changed by her clear capitulation, and Loretta wondered what else might have brought them to the house. She was pretty certain there was no pot but she had a surreptitious sniff just to check.
‘Loretta Halliday?’ they asked.
Loretta nodded.
‘What’s this about?’ she asked. ‘Is there a problem?’
The older of the two officers was closest to her but he ignored her questions. ‘Is your sister, Natalie Halliday, here?’ he asked.
Loretta’s mind was racing. She was certain she hadn’t done anything to merit a visit from the police but she couldn’t guarantee that Natalie hadn’t. She decided to play things very politely until she knew what was going on.
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘She’s over there. Nat! Can you come here a minute?’
Natalie, who had been sprawling against the wall, stood up and began to walk towards them, clearly concentrating hard so she didn’t appear as drunk as she presumably was.
‘What’s up?’ she asked when she got close enough. She was slurring a little and her eyes were glazed and slightly unfocused.
‘Is there somewhere private where we can talk?’ asked the policeman. His tone didn’t suggest that they were in trouble, but Loretta had read enough about police brutality to know that you couldn’t drop your guard.
‘Whatever it is, you can say it here,’ said Natalie. Her tone was more aggressive than Loretta thought wise and she tried to signal as such, but Natalie’s attention was on the policeman.
‘I think it would be better if we went inside,’ said the policeman.
He had kind eyes, Loretta thought, and there was a kind of meekness to his partner too, a woman, that she hadn’t seen when they were further away. Something wasn’t right.
‘Okay,’ she said.
The policeman gestured towards the back door.
‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘I’m afraid we have some bad news.’
8
Loretta’s heart was thumping in her chest as she led the officers into the house. The group of friends who had gathered to see what was going on parted to let them pass and she could hear their whispered questions. Natalie had questions too.
‘What’s going on?’ she kept asking, each time louder than before, but Loretta had no answer for her.
‘Let’s just see what they have to say,’ she said quietly, trying to appease Natalie, but really she was just as desperate to know.
There were party guests everywhere, many not having noticed the presence of the police, and Loretta stood in the kitchen, not really sure what to do next. The policeman pushed through the crowd and headed back into the hallway.
‘Is this the lounge?’ he asked, putting his hand on the door handle. He was missing the top joint of his middle finger, Loretta noticed, and she started to wonder how that might have happened. She forced her mind back to the present situation.
She nodded and he opened the door. There were people in there too – so much for keeping the party outside. She was about to suggest they try the dining room when the policeman spoke.
‘Can you all please leave this room,’ he said in a tone that suggested an order rather than a request, and the guests moved without question. Someone mouthed ‘Okay?’ at Loretta as they passed and someone else touched her arm and squeezed it gently.
‘What do you want with them?’ snarled one of Natalie’s mates. ‘You can’t just come barging into people’s houses when they ain’t done nothing.’
Loretta put up a hand to show that it was all okay and they didn’t need defending, but she knew the people round there were naturally suspicious of the police and would always assume some kind of fit-up, and she was grateful for the support, however misguided.
The female officer closed the door behind them and the world fell quiet, the music and chatter muted.
‘Shall we sit down?’ asked the older one.
Loretta had questions, but all her newly learned journalistic techniques deserted her and she was left unable to articulate them. Natalie was still wittering about unwelcome interruptions and getting back to the party but her objections were losing steam.
They all sat, she and Natalie on the sofa and a police officer perched on each armchair, a pair of unlikely bookends. Loretta’s curiosity was starting to swamp her anxiety. What on earth could be justifying all this fuss?
The officers exchanged glances and then the older one spoke.
‘You are Loretta and Natalie Halliday?’ he began, which irritated Loretta as that much was obvious. She nodded quickly, urging him to move on.
‘We received a telephone call from the British Consulate in France . . .’
Loretta didn’t know anyone in France.
‘They were calling to say that two bodies have been found in a guesthouse in the Saint-Malo area. We believe the bodies to be Robert and Patricia Halliday.’
He paused as Loretta took in what he was saying.
‘That’s our parents,’ she said. ‘They’re on holiday in France. For their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary.’
So this couldn’t be them, she wanted to add, but it was dawning on her exactly what she was being told.
‘They were found by the guesthouse staff. Their absence was noticed when they failed to attend their meals and someone went to check. The scene suggested that they had died in their sleep the day before yesterday. The French police believe that it may have been carbon monoxide poisoning.’
Loretta stared at him. Blinking seemed to be the only movement she was capable of. Beside her, Natalie was also unnaturally motionless, as if the entire scene were a still from a film.
‘It can’t be them,’ she said. ‘Can’t be.’ And then, ‘Are you sure?’
It seemed to be a struggle for the policeman to maintain eye contact but he didn’t let his gaze drop. He swallowed.
‘Their passports were amongst their possessions. They were identified from the passport photographs. There is no doubt. I’m so very sorry.’
Nobody spoke. Loretta could hear the dull beat of the party music and outside a girl screeched playfully, others laughing in response.
‘Is there someone we can ring for you?’ the female officer asked. ‘A relative?’
Loretta shook her head. Their parents were both only children, one of the things that had brought them together in the first place. There were just the four of them. Team Halliday. They didn’t need anyone else.
‘You shouldn’t be alone at a time like this,’ said the woman.
Loretta gestured towards the door.
‘We’re hardly alone,’ she said.
‘Yes, but an adult . . .’
‘We’re both adults,’ Loretta snapped at her.
The woman backed down, mumbling an apology.
Natalie spoke then, her voice calm with no hint of a slur.
‘What happens now?’ she asked.
‘This is the number of the Foreign and Commonwealth Office. They will be able to give you more details. The line is open twenty-four hours a day, but perhaps it might be better to wait until morning . . .’
He held out a printed card. Loretta stared at his hand with its missing joint for a moment, fascinated by it, and then, realising that she was supposed to take the card, she leaned across to reach it.
Suddenly, she wanted them to leave. They had done what they came for. They were no longer required. She stood up.
‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘You can go now. We will ring the . . .’
‘Foreign and Commonwealth Office,’ the policewoman offered.
‘Yes, them. In the morning.’
Natalie stood too but the officers seemed reluctant to move.
‘We’ll be fine,’ said Loretta.
‘Shall we ask your guests to leave?’
Loretta had no idea. She didn’t know what to do or say.
‘No, thank you,’ said Natalie quickly. ‘We can do it. We can do everything.’
The police muttered their condolences again and allowed themselves to be steered towards the front door.
‘We will be in touch tomorrow,’ said the woman. ‘And once again, we’re so very sorry.’
Loretta could sense that the woman was looking at her, wanting to make eye contact, but she didn’t raise her head, not wanting to see the pity in her expression.
‘Thank you,’ she said and closed the door behind them.
Word that there were police in the house seemed to have spread, so when Loretta turned away from the front door a small crowd of people had gathered in the hall behind her, looking expectant. Natalie’s friend Chrissie was the first to come rushing over to ask what was going on. But she took one look at their faces and pulled them both into a hug without asking any questions. Loretta felt Natalie release into her friend’s embrace, convulsing in sobs almost at once. Loretta stood very still, aware of the warmth from Chrissie’s body seeping into her own.
‘Mum and Dad are dead,’ Natalie managed to say between gulps.
‘What?’ replied Chrissie, pushing Natalie to arm’s length and staring at her, confused by the news.
‘They’re dead,’ Natalie said again. ‘In France.’
‘No.’ Chrissie took a moment to let this sink in. ‘What happened? I mean, how?’
‘They think it was carbon monoxide poisoning,’ replied Loretta numbly.
‘Oh my God.’ Chrissie’s mouth fell open. ‘Shit.’
Loretta was aware of muttering growing louder around them as the story was repeated for those who hadn’t caught it first time or couldn’t believe what they’d heard. Chrissie spoke over them.
‘Right. You two go in the lounge. I’m going to make some tea. Everyone else, the party’s over. Let’s clear everything up so Etta and Nat don’t have to deal with all this mess in the morning.’
Loretta started to object, but then she saw the sense of this and let Chrissie take control. Blindly, she allowed herself to be guided back into the lounge. She felt Natalie grasping for her hand and she clutched at it as if they were little girls once more. Natalie was squeezing so tightly that she could feel the bones in her fingers crunch together but she didn’t pull her hand free.
They dropped on to the sofa, almost sitting on top of one another.
‘They can’t be dead,’ whispered Natalie. ‘Not dead.’ And then, ‘What are we going to do?’
‘I don’t know,’ replied Loretta.
What else was there to say?
9
They must have fallen asleep because when Loretta opened her eyes it was no longer dark outside. Natalie was curled up against her, her head resting on Loretta’s chest. She was sleeping so peacefully and it took Loretta a moment to work out why they weren’t in their beds. Then she saw Chrissie asleep in an armchair and she remembered.
The party. The police. Their parents.
A wave of something she couldn’t quite identify engulfed her and she struggled to catch a full breath. Her parents. Her lovely, funny, hard-working, reliable, proud parents were gone. It was such an unbelievable concept. How could it be true? And what was she meant to do now? She was twenty-one. She knew nothing about anything. And there was Natalie. She was basically a child.
Loretta squeezed her eyes shut, took three deep, calming breaths and then opened them. Nothing had changed. She had to cope. It was all up to her. Her back was stiff and she eased herself into a different position carefully so she didn’t wake Natalie. She had to be practical. There would be time enough for emotion later but right now she had to work out what they needed to do. Natalie wasn’t good at that kind of thing at the best of times, which this most certainly was not. So that was that. It was all down to her. There was no one else.
There was no one else.
She let these words settle for a moment. The two of them were entirely on their own, tossed into the depths of the adult ocean when she had only been dipping her toe in the water.
It was up to her to take control. She was the elder sister and was far better equipped after three years away from home to deal with the practicalities. And she could do it. She would start by ringing that number on the card the police had given her. Somebody there would tell her how this worked. They would fly her parents home, she assumed. She had no idea who they were. And what about the car?
The thought that she might have to go to France herself panicked her. That felt impossible. She couldn’t leave Natalie and anyway, what would be the point? Her parents were dead. Going wouldn’t change anything. There would be questions, an investigation, blame to apportion, but none of that was for now. Now she had to deal with one step at a time.
However, her mind wasn’t working in a one-step-at-a-time kind of fashion. It leapt from one impossible obstacle to the next. What about the funeral? How would they find the money to pay for that, to pay for anything, in fact? There was the house, the bills? Loretta had no idea where to start piecing it all together and once again she felt her chest start to constrict.
Next to her Natalie began to stir and Loretta stroked her sister’s hair, hoping it would feel soothing. She didn’t want her to wake up frightened.
‘It’s me,’ she whispered. ‘I’m here. Are you okay?’
Natalie sat up and stared straight at her. Her eye make-up had smudged down her face and she was deathly pale, the hard-won suntan lost overnight.
‘It’s not true, is it?’ she asked. ‘Tell me it didn’t really happen, Etta. They’re not really dead, are they?’
Her eyes, wide and imploring, searched Loretta’s face for a different reality, but what could Loretta say?
‘I’m sorry,’ she replied, her own eyes brimming over with tears as she saw Natalie’s face collapse. Then Natalie threw herself into Loretta’s arms and they held each other tightly, Natalie murmuring that it couldn’t have happened and there must have been some terrible mistake.
Chrissie woke then and took Loretta’s place comforting Natalie whilst Loretta went to make them a drink, more for something to do than because she was thirsty. She thought about digging out the brandy that her mother used for the family Christmas cake. There would be no more of her mother’s Christmas cakes. The thought pummelled into her chest, blow after blow, each landing directly on top of the last.
Not brandy, she decided. Coffee instead. There would be time enough for brandy.
The house was tidier than it had been before the party. Chrissie must have coordinated a huge team. The washing-up was done and put away and all the rubbish cleared from the yard. Someone had even mopped the floor; Loretta could smell the clean scent of Ajax. Mum would be pleased, she thought.
And then she remembered again.
They stumbled through that day, and the next and the one after that. Kathleen at the Foreign and Commonwealth Office was wonderful, calmly steering Loretta through the procedure for the repatriation of the bodies with just the right blend of efficiency and sympathy. She and Natalie coped without any histrionics, both of them staying resolutely stoical. It was almost as if there were an unspoken fear that if they gave any indication of not coping, some official channel would swoop in and take control.
However, that wasn’t going to happen. They were both grown-up and deemed capable of dealing with their own business. The world didn’t care that they had suddenly become orphans overnight. They were simply two adults dealing with the deaths of other adults; an everyday occurrence with nothing remarkable about it, bar the unfortunate location of the deaths.
Eventually, the bodies were returned. Investigations, inquiries and the stamping of forms meant that this seemed to take forever and by the time they could finally hold the funeral – a modest affair publicised by word of mouth only and with no wake because organising one was beyond what they had to give – the starting date for Loretta’s job was upon them.
There would be no little flat in Kentish Town. How could she leave Natalie now? But she found that she was almost relieved to have an excuse not to move out. She had no stomach for yet more change, couldn’t dig deep enough to uncover the resources necessary. And she was fine at home, for now at least.
Gradually, the administration of death was dealt with, each piece falling into place like a macabre jigsaw, until the two of them would eventually subsume their parents’ affairs entirely. The house, the bank accounts, the car would all be transferred as if they had always belonged to them. To the outside world, nothing at 27 Solomon Street looked any different.
