Crash, page 19
I shouted at Tom, angry as much with myself as with him. ‘Did you have to involve Oliver, of all people?’
Fran interrupted, her tone cold and businesslike. ‘Mum, it doesn’t matter who brought him home, he’s safe, isn’t he? Carl’s being transferred to the Gables Mental Health Unit and he needs some of his things.’
She held out a piece of paper. ‘We have to get this stuff over to him and rescue Beatrice from the LRI. She texted me about ten minutes ago. They’ve bandaged her up and she’s ready to come home.’
In my fury, I had forgotten about Beatrice, abandoned at the hospital. Together, Fran and I hurried up to Carl’s room and at the door, she reached for my hand. Immediately, I understood. For her, this was a forbidden and secret place. Once we were inside, it was obvious that someone had prised open the cabinets. I sat down on Carl’s day bed, drawing my hands down my cheeks, guessing at what had happened. Fran sat next to me, very close and still. I watched her eyes flicker across the desk and the filing cabinets, from the armchairs to the music centre.
‘What’s the matter, Fran?’
‘I expected some awful lair but it’s ordinary, it’s just a study.’
‘Your dad’s an addict, not a monster. This is where he works and lives… his bedroom is through there.’ I nodded towards the adjoining door. ‘As the meth has taken over, he’s preferred to spend more and more time alone. It’s just his private space. There aren’t any horrors except in Carl’s mind.’
‘But we were always banned from here. There was horrible music and when he came out he was sometimes so weird. In my mind it was like some evil cesspit. I was afraid of it and I didn’t even want to pass the bottom of the stairs. I’ve had nightmares about this room since I was little.’
‘Fran,’ I pulled her to me, ‘I’ve let you down.’ I gestured around the room. ‘I didn’t see how all this was affecting you. I should never have tried to keep everything hidden.’
Fran started to cry. ‘What about Tom? That’s my fault.’
I put my hands on her shoulders and looked hard into her eyes. ‘I think Tom let himself in here with a key, after Carl went to bed. He must have had one copied. He was waiting for his chance and you gave him that chance, that’s all. I’m sorry I didn’t warn you how much of a risk Tom was. I don’t think I realised it myself. I’ll check the cabinets and see what’s been taken. Carl woke to find that someone had been in his room. It’s his worst nightmare, to have his secrets stolen. He would have blamed Beatrice.’
‘Jack’s worried sick. He thinks you’ll complain to the hospital.’
‘Carl is no longer Jack’s patient. You shouldn’t have stayed out overnight, but Tom was left with his grandmother, a responsible adult.’ I paraphrased Dan, silently thanking him for always trying to be fair.
‘But, Mum… poor Honey.’
‘Yes, she must have been very frightened, but she’s okay. All of this might have happened even if you’d been here. It’s not your fault.’
Fran went to her room to telephone Jack and I searched the cabinets. All of the drugs were gone, the solid meth for smoking, the cocaine, and the cannabis.
Fran called out to me. I heard it too, the whine of our electronic gates. It could only be Oliver. Why hadn’t I locked them? I tiptoed down to the drawing room, to keep hidden and pulled the heavy drapes away from the window to watch him arrive. I breathed in dust from the folds, listening to the gates close and the crunch of car tyres on gravel. Oliver emerged from his car, pulling up his trousers from where they had slipped below his belly, his eyes darting as if he guessed someone was spying on him.
‘Fran! Tom,’ I yelled. ‘Wait for me in the drawing room. Now!’
I held the door open for Oliver and indicated the formal, rarely used room where Fran and Tom were already seated. Tom’s face was speckled with white blotches that made his freckles stand out. Fran sat on the other side of the room, chewing on her lip. Only Oliver looked comfortable, his legs spread wide as he filled his armchair, his arms folded across his stomach.
Everyone avoided the sofas. I sat in a fourth vacant chair, and we looked at each other across the coffee table, all except Fran, who stared through the window. In the heavy pause, I noticed the browning flowers on the table in the bay window, their stems left to rot in shallow water. There was a thin film of dust across my side table.
‘If you’ve come to see Carl, I’m afraid you’ve wasted your time,’ I said. ‘He’s been admitted to a psychiatric unit. Someone broke into his cabinets and the discovery must have triggered a paranoid state. I’m afraid he attacked his mother. We all have to leave for the hospital shortly. I’m sure you’ll want me to inform the police, in case any company documents were stolen.’
I turned to Tom and held out my hand. ‘And you can give me the key to Dad’s study, right now.’
‘Come on, Alice,’ Oliver interrupted. ‘There’s no need for the police. No real harm’s been done. Tell you what, why don’t you make us all a cup of tea.’
‘I’ll do no such thing. Tom, go up to your room. If you need a drink, Oliver, there’s tap water in the kitchen. Help yourself.’
Tom hesitated, looking between Oliver and me. Fran said, ‘Do what Mum says or I’ll hit you again.’
‘Piss off,’ Tom said to her. As he strode past my chair, I stretched out my hand.
‘The key please, Tom.’ He reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out a key for Carl’s study. He laid it with excessive care onto my outstretched palm, then slammed the door behind him.
‘Fran, could you leave us now, I need to talk to Oliver alone.’
She hesitated. ‘Don’t forget about Beatrice.’
‘This won’t take a minute,’ I said.
We sat in silence until I heard Fran’s footsteps outside, scraping on the gravel below the window.
‘Leave my family alone, Oliver. I believe you asked Tom to find something you needed from Carl’s study. What did you give him in return?’
Oliver looked around the room with ill-disguised propriety. ‘Just as well I was around, my dear, ungrateful, girl. You were off in London, shagging Dan Lewis and Fran was shagging that skinny nurse from the hospital. Who was here for Tom apart from a madwoman? I admire the boy for ringing me. He’d got out of his depth with local dealers and I was able to bring in a few heavies to rescue him. I’ve told him he can call me any time. Tom needs a bit of guidance, a man around the place.’
‘I said leave the family to me. Perhaps Tom needed to learn a lesson. He thinks he’s invincible and you’ve just bailed him out.’
‘Alice,’ Oliver said patiently, ‘the lesson Tom was about to learn would have been his final one. The boy thinks he can pass off a few ounces of draw at school and wow! he’s a dealer. It didn’t go down well with the local scum, I can assure you. You have your son back thanks to me. I reckoned you could do without a murder this week, on top of everything else.’
Oliver raised a plump hand to stop my protest. ‘Tom’s told me everything. You’ve got cancer and Carl’s dying. The boy had nowhere to turn. A cry for help, Alice, and no one listening, not even his mother.’
I knew I had to pretend to show appreciation but the words stuck in my throat. I hesitated and swallowed, disgust mingled with shame.
‘Thank you… I’m grateful to you for helping Tom. Now please, leave my family alone.’
Oliver cleared his throat. ‘You think Dan Lewis will stick with you once you’re sick? Even if he does, he won’t fit in. He’s not one of us, he’ll be out of his depth. You need me. I know the business and I’ll be there for the boy. We’d make a good team. Get rid of Lewis, as soon as you can.’
‘What are you talking about, Oliver?’
For the first time ever, I saw Oliver look sheepish and craven, his public school bravado seeping away. ‘Just a plan for the future, one that makes a lot of sense. Come on, Carl’s not going to last that long. If I tell him about you and Lewis, his lawyers will make you fight for every penny. And don’t assume you’ll have access to Tom. Frankly, even if you survive your cancer, you’ll be dead of old age well before your payout is settled in the courts.’
Oliver leaned towards me and winked. ‘Think about what side your bread’s buttered on. Choose the winning side.’
I couldn’t keep the incredulity from my voice. ‘You are the winning side?’
Oliver loosened his tie. The room was hot and airless and smelt of dust from ash in the uncleared grate. ‘In Carl’s present state of mind he might believe that Dan Lewis is more of a risk than he can tolerate. He might think that Lewis knows too much about the business. You and I would realise that’s nonsense, but he doesn’t always see things rationally. He might ask me to intervene and I always follow Carl’s instructions, to the letter.’
This was so outrageous, I almost laughed. ‘Are you actually threatening Dan?’
‘Good heavens, no. What an imagination you have… you could have written a novel, several in fact, with all the time you’ve wasted over the years. But I can’t be responsible for Carl’s actions once he finds out.’
I flushed with anger, but my best strategy was to play for more time.
My tight lips grimaced into a parody of a smile. ‘I’m genuinely grateful to you for rescuing Tom but I think you’re being less than honest with me. This isn’t about me or Tom or Dan, it’s about you and the business. I think you’re in serious trouble and you’re trying to find a way out, though why I’m your way out escapes me.’
Oliver tried to interrupt but it was my turn to raise a hand. ‘What you must realise is that Carl doesn’t want to see you at the moment. He’s really very ill and all he wants is time to focus on his ideas. If I find out that you’ve tried to whisper a word to Carl about me or Dan, then I will alert Carl that on your watch, the precious business he formed with Euan has been sacrificed. You’ll be frozen out forever. I could do that tonight, if necessary. Oliver, you need me, much more than I need you. Do we understand each other?’
TWENTY-SEVEN
MONDAY 29TH SEPTEMBER
Beatrice sat at one end of the kitchen table, her large hands curled around a mug of tea and her frayed overnight bag slumped against the table leg. The bandage on her wrist poked out from under her sleeve. Her hair was pulled into a tight French roll and either clean clothes or the lift given to her features by her scraped-back hair, made her look more like the woman I remembered. I was still in my dressing gown, ragged from the night before. I poured another mug of strong, thick tea from the pot and sat facing her, at the other end of the table.
‘So, you’re going home today after all?’ I spoke at last.
‘I need a lift to the station, that’s if you’re not too busy meeting people in London.’
I bit my lip. It wasn’t the moment to sound ungracious. ‘I’ll drop you off after we’ve been to see Carl. Thank you for everything you did for him yesterday.’
‘He tried to kill me.’
‘I understand,’ I said. ‘It must have been terrifying. Tell me what happened.’
‘He accused me of stealing his mobile phone… believed I’d been in his room, searching through his things. He was prowling the house with a knife, looking for me. I was standing right here, he accused me, then the dog went for him. That’s what happened.’
It made sense. Carl had been violated in his place of sanctuary and of course, he would have blamed the stranger in the house, the woman who had always betrayed him. Thank goodness for Honey.
I glanced at the jar where Carl’s phone was hidden. ‘It wasn’t a personal attack,’ I said. ‘You were in the way, caught up in something that existed only in his mind.’
‘It’s a pity he didn’t turn the knife on himself,’ Beatrice hissed.
I stopped myself from making the obvious but incredibly hurtful reply. My phone vibrated against the skin of my thigh, deep inside the pocket of my dressing gown. Dan was trying to contact me. ‘If you’ll excuse me, I need to dress.’
‘If you’ll excuse me,’ Beatrice mocked me, ‘your family is out of control. Carl was no catch, but I expected better of you. At least you could have tried to be a good mother. God knows, you were fit for little else.’
I pressed my knuckles against the table, pushing myself to stand. ‘And you are a fit judge of who is a good mother and who isn’t?’
As I reached the door, her parting words hit me hard between the shoulder blades. ‘Your eldest daughter. She’s the one who started all this. I don’t suppose you’ve told her, have you?’
I turned towards Beatrice, allowing my dressing gown to fall open. ‘No, I haven’t… not yet. And it’s not your duty to do so either.’
I heard the front door slam. Tom shouted from the hall. ‘Mum?’
I continued to stare at Beatrice but called out, ‘We’re in here.’
He carried the mushroom smell of an autumn morning into the kitchen and released Honey from her lead. She wagged her tail and barked when she scented that her favourite person, Beatrice, was still with us.
My phone vibrated again. ‘I’m embarrassed I’m still in my pyjamas,’ I said. ‘I’m going to dress. I’ll leave you two to talk. You have plenty to say to each other, I’m sure. Tom, I’m afraid Beatrice is very upset and is going home today.’
Once I had dressed and spoken to Dan, reassuring him that we had all survived the night and Carl was safely in psychiatric care, I crept down and listened outside the open kitchen door. Beatrice and Tom seemed to be deep in debate about the life-enhancing properties of psychedelic drugs. Of course, Beatrice had all the facts but Tom, to his credit, wasn’t interrupting. I relaxed. I had forgotten how suddenly Beatrice’s anger was drawn but how quickly the rage passed. Once it was over, she would have forgotten our row almost immediately, especially the hurtful things she had said.
Through the open door of the conservatory, I walked towards the orchard, the wet, long grass darkening the bottom of my jeans. Spider webs were strung across every low branch, droplets of shimmering dew dancing along each thread. Despite the heat, autumn was underway. Nothing stayed the same.
I drove Beatrice to see Carl, leaving Fran and Tom, almost friends again, watching old episodes of South Park.
‘I’m sorry it turned out so badly,’ I said, after twenty minutes of silence.
Beatrice snorted. I wasn’t sure whether this meant assent, derision, or mockery but I pressed on. ‘We’re pleased, especially the children, to have made some contact with you at last.’
‘Tom told me you’re having surgery for cervical cancer on Friday,’ she said. ‘Things are going to get worse for you, not better. I think you need me around, whether you like it or not.’
‘Tom told you that?’
‘Don’t blame him. I asked why Ella was coming back on Thursday. Frankly, he was surprised I didn’t already know. You keep too many secrets, Alice. People can’t help you. You should have been in touch with me a long time ago, you knew how to find me.’
‘And you knew where we were. There was nothing to stop you contacting us.’
‘I thought you must be doing fine. After I didn’t show up for your wedding, the first contact had to come from you. Since I heard nothing, it meant you were bearing a grudge, even though I’d paid for the darn thing. Besides, Carl was never going to do it.’
We reached the suburbs of Leicester and Beatrice seemed distracted by the shops and houses and other people busy with their lives. There was so much I wanted to say; to defend myself, to be angry with her but there was too little time. I had to get it right.
‘Yes, we were very angry and hurt… we chose not to speak to you for a long time. Once Carl’s addiction took hold, I believed that contact from you would only make things worse. It might have been harmful to him and us. I think my judgement was sound on that one.’
Beatrice thought for a few moments. ‘You’re probably right. Yesterday’s events would support your case.’
‘I struggled so hard to keep everything going. If I’d thought you’d have helped me of course I’d have contacted you. A grandmother for the children would have been fantastic.’
It was as if I hadn’t spoken. ‘Truth is always best,’ she continued. ‘I haven’t tried to pretend, like you, so I come across as blunt, hurtful even. You should have stopped hiding his addiction, got some help. You must talk to Ella before too long about her father, her real father. I wasn’t truthful about my absence from your wedding, and I’m sorry for that. I couldn’t be sure whose child you were carrying, yet it was my son you were committing to family life. He’s been a bad father and husband but what you did to him wasn’t fair.’
‘I loved him, Beatrice, and there was every chance the child was his. We never spoke about it, but after Ella’s birth, I think he knew. I believed we could be happy… the four of us.’
We found the unit, a Victorian house stranded amongst ragged Portakabins, the outer shanty town of a modern hospital. Beatrice sat in the car, staring ahead while I fed the parking machine. How long we would stay was anyone’s guess. With Beatrice here, it might only be a few minutes.
We walked with the nurse into Carl’s room. His back was to me, hunched over a desk, working on his laptop. The sharp angles of his shoulder blades pushed through the folds of his sweater. I called hello and bent to kiss him. His hair was newly washed and smelled of fresh-cut hay. I rested my hand on his shoulder but withdrew it quickly. He was so thin, it felt like a newel post.
‘Carl, your mother’s here. Is it okay if she stays?’
He didn’t turn around. ‘If she must.’
‘Where did the laptop come from?’ I sat down next to him and leaned across to look at the screen, while Beatrice shuffled onto his bed.
Carl carried on working, frowning as he tapped at the keys. ‘Fran brought it yesterday with my things. I haven’t been able to use it until now. I thought I’d make a start on some work. Have you found my mobile?’
I ignored his question. ‘You hurt your mother,’ I said, ‘but it wasn’t Beatrice who was in your room. That was Tom.’
