Dead of Winter, page 11
She wouldn’t, Jimmy assured them. She had already gone to bed.
It had been a silly mistake. He had slipped up, but no harm was done. Lola was none the wiser as to who Brett Corrigan was and they had managed to convince her that both Nigel and Annie Whitlock were her biological parents. Her real father’s name hadn’t even entered the conversation.
‘We’re not overreacting,’ Rose snapped. ‘You knew how much was riding on tonight. Why the fuck do you think I wanted you out of the way? Because you’re a bloody liability, Jimmy.’
‘Well, I didn’t know she was going to crash her car and have to stay over,’ Jimmy bit back. ‘It was a stupid idea inviting her here in the first place. I told you so.’
‘It wouldn’t have been if you hadn’t opened your big mouth!’
Rose lit a cigarette, holding it between shaking fingers as she inhaled deeply.
It was a habit that Daniel disapproved of, especially indoors, but his sister had never been one to take orders.
Ironic that she had trained as a nurse and knew all of the associated health risks that came with smoking, Jimmy thought, conveniently ignoring the fact that he had been drinking like a fish long before he was sacked from his job.
They both had their addictions.
He snatched up the open bottle of brandy, pouring himself a double measure and downing it quickly. The liquid heated his belly, having barely touched the sides of his throat as it went down.
‘I don’t need to listen to this,’ he snarled, thumping his glass down. ‘I’m off to bed.’
He received no objections and didn’t miss the shared look of relief at his departure. Out of the way was safer for everyone.
Things had changed since he had first come to Norfolk. Back then, he had felt welcomed. Daniel had never spoken unkindly to him, but everything was different now and he knew he only had himself to blame. He should never have agreed to their plan, not realising the huge repercussions it would have on his life.
Why had he been so weak-willed, instead of saying no?
He should have known things could never go back and realised how the dynamics in the house would change.
Now they hated him.
The witch and the manipulator. That was how he often thought of the pair of them these days.
They let him stay here in the house, knowing it was the safest place for him to be. Here they could keep an eye on him, and they allowed him to drink himself silly because they didn’t trust him. Keep Jimmy the fool content and stop him from shooting his big mouth off about the terrible secret they all shared.
Not that he would ever confess to their sin. He wasn’t an idiot.
In his more sober moments, Jimmy was fully aware of what was at stake. Often the horror of what they had done that summer’s evening eighteen months ago woke him up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat.
It was why he kept a bottle of whisky in his bedside cabinet. Drinking himself into oblivion was the only way he could escape his nightmares.
24
For what felt like hours, Lola had lain awake. The ominous silence of both the house and the weather outside hindered her efforts to fall asleep, as she listened for any tiny sound that might suggest her visitor had returned.
She had thought sleep would be impossible and had resigned herself to the fact she would lie in this cold bed fully alert until morning – which perhaps would be a good thing, given that someone had taken the door key – but exhaustion had finally won, her eyes drifting shut.
It wasn’t a noise that disturbed her slumber or the icy temperature of the house, but instead a light tickling caress against her skin. She didn’t suddenly start awake, instead slowly growing aware of the sensation as she gradually drifted towards consciousness.
In the dream she was having, the hand cupping her chin and the thumb gently stroking her cheek belonged to Quinn, but as her surroundings became familiar, and she recalled the disastrous visit to Norfolk to meet her brother and all that had followed, the last pull awake was as sharp as a slap across the face.
She was still in his house, still in the four-poster bed on the second floor, and it was still dark outside. The only thing that was different was she was no longer alone. Someone was leaning over her.
Not Quinn. And not Rose, Jimmy or Daniel.
In the flickering light of the paraffin lamp was an older woman, her soft, cold finger stilling against Lola’s cheek as she stirred, her long hair falling in a tangled curtain around her shoulders, close enough for Lola to breathe in its rancid scent.
Lola’s immediate reaction was to scream, jerking away from the woman’s touch as she did so and scooting back across the mattress.
Instantly, the woman’s demeanour changed and she became wild-eyed, for a moment looking as if she was going to attack, but as Lola half scrambled, half fell out of the bed, trying to put more distance between them, the woman turned and fled from the room.
What the hell?
Lola’s heart was thumping in her ears, her adrenaline so spiked she barely noticed the cold, and as she clumsily reached for the paraffin lamp, she accidentally knocked it to the floor.
For one terrified second, she thought it was going to ignite, but as the spilled oil covered the wick, the flame died, plunging the room into darkness.
No!
The curtains were still open. She had never drawn them, wanting that tenuous connection to the rest of the world, and as her eyes gradually adjusted to the sliver of moon, she could see the blizzard had passed and the clear sky was illuminated with a glassy light from the snow, appearing brighter towards the horizon.
Snatching up her phone from the bedside table, trembling fingers activating the torch, she followed after the woman. Whoever she was, she had a head start, but Lola was determined to find out what the hell was going on.
What had just happened was not okay.
A quick check of the corridor and the bathroom showed her they were both empty. There was one other door, but when she tried to open it, she found it was locked.
Had it been a ghost?
The thought was only fleeting. She knew what she had seen was real.
But who was she? Rose hadn’t mentioned anyone else living in the house and she hadn’t been with them at dinner.
Leaving the locked door, Lola headed down the staircase to the first-floor landing.
Too many doors to check on this level.
Were Rose and Daniel still up? They would know who this woman was, so Lola resolved to go downstairs and find them.
As she was about to descend the main staircase, a muted, almost childish giggle came from behind her, and she swung around, the beam of her phone torch darting from one side of the landing to the other, as she looked for where the noise had come from.
No one was there.
But then she realised she hadn’t considered the lift. Was someone inside the carriage?
Tentatively, she stepped towards the door, nerves creeping in and weakening the edges of her anger. She was summoning up the courage to pull open the door when another voice spoke, and she almost jumped out of her skin.
‘It doesn’t work, you know. Not just because of the power cut. It hasn’t done in ages.’
Her head shot around, the light landing on Jimmy. He stood across the landing, hair dishevelled and wearing checked pyjamas. The lower buttons of the shirt were straining over his stomach.
His appearance had caught her off guard and she hadn’t registered his words properly, too focused on everything else that had just happened.
‘There was a woman in my room,’ she told him, watching as he frowned.
‘A woman?’ he repeated.
At first, Lola thought he didn’t believe her, but then she realised that because of the alcohol he had consumed, he was struggling to focus on her words. He seemed even more pissed than he had been at dinner.
‘She was an older lady,’ she pushed, hoping to stir something in his drunken brain. ‘Maybe in her seventies or eighties, and she was wearing a white nightdress.’
The giggle came again from the lift shaft and this time both their heads shot towards the door. The sound seemed to sober Jimmy slightly, as a look of panic crossed his face.
‘Who is she?’ Lola demanded.
‘You should go back to bed,’ he slurred, waving his hand dismissively. ‘I’ll deal with this.’
Honestly, Lola wasn’t sure he was in a fit state to deal with anything. Besides, after being so rudely awaken, she deserved to know who the woman was.
‘I’m up now, so I’d like to stay,’ she said firmly.
Jimmy didn’t even try to argue, shrugging his shoulders as if he couldn’t be bothered with any of this. As he took a stumbling step towards the lift, the concertina door was pulled open from inside, and Lola could see the woman who had been in her room, a childish look on her face as she stared at them through the bars of the outer gate.
‘Come on, Mum,’ Jimmy sighed, pulling the gate open and reaching his hand out, huffing when the woman refused to take it. Instead, she stepped back to the rear of the carriage, pressing at the buttons on the side panel, like they were playing some kind of game. ‘Let’s take you back to your room.’
Rose hadn’t mentioned anything about their mother living with them. Not that it was any of Lola’s business, but it seemed odd that she hadn’t joined them downstairs for supper.
Perhaps it was because she didn’t seem well. Lola wasn’t a medical professional, but she suspected the woman had some form of dementia. It would explain the odd behaviour, though not so much her appearance. Her white nightdress was torn in places and covered in stains, her hair in desperate need of a brush, and her poor bare feet – which must be so cold – were filthy.
Did they not look after her properly? Given how impeccable Rose was with her own appearance, Lola would have thought her mother’s care would have been a top priority.
Looking at the poor neglected woman before her, a rush of sympathy surged, along with guilt at how she had reacted when she had found her in her room. Okay, it was understandable she had been a little freaked waking up to find someone looking over her, but the woman had meant no harm.
‘She likes to play with the buttons,’ Jimmy said, exasperated, as his mother drew her focus away from the control panel to stare curiously at Lola. ‘Come on, Mum. Now, before Rose realises you’re out of your room. You don’t want her to get mad at you.’
Angry? Why would Rose get mad? This was her mother.
Lola remembered when Kelly had become ill. Her mum had been so sick with the chemo and then, towards the very end, she had needed help with the most basic functions, even breathing. She had wanted to remain in her own home and, although she had a palliative care team coming in, Lola had been with her, taking time away from work to do whatever was needed, right up until the very end. And yes, at times she had been frustrated, angry even – though only ever at the cruel disease – and she had been terribly sad, but she had buried all of those negative feelings, determined to put a brave face on and keep those last awful days as stress-free as possible.
‘What is your mum’s name?’ she asked, sensing Jimmy needed help. He could barely keep himself standing upright and wasn’t in a fit state to help anyone.
‘What?’ He heavily blinked at her, as if he had forgotten she was even there, but as his eyes zoned out, then seemed to refocus, he answered her question. ‘Agnes.’
Agnes. Lola nodded.
Stepping forward, she offered her hand to the woman, careful to keep her movements slow and steady, not wanting to spook her. ‘Agnes, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Lola.’
At first she thought Agnes was going to ignore her, but then she started to move towards her.
Unfortunately, Jimmy chose that moment to almost dive at his mother, grabbing her in an awkward hug. ‘I’ve got it. Come on, Mum. Back to your room.’
As he manhandled Agnes, who was getting more distressed by the moment as he half dragged her across the landing, Lola hurried after them, appalled at what he was doing.
‘Jimmy?’
The voice that came from behind them sounded shocked and annoyed.
They all paused and Lola turned, locking eyes with Rose.
‘What’s going on?’
Rose’s gaze flickered to Jimmy, before landing back on Lola, both her tone and her glare accusing, and Lola’s hackles rose. While she was appreciative of the Whitlocks for letting her stay, she was not going to be spoken to as if she had done something wrong.
‘I woke up to find your mother standing by the bed,’ she answered, keeping her tone cool.
Rose was silent for a moment as she processed Lola’s words.
‘How did she get out of her room?’ she snapped, not sounding at all happy.
This time, her focus was on Jimmy, who still had hold of Agnes. He pouted at his sister, a little sulkily, but guilt was all over his face, and his glazed look had gone, Rose’s sudden appearance seeming to sober him up.
‘I nipped in to check on her when I came up to change. I thought I’d locked the door behind me. I swear.’
They locked Agnes in her bedroom?
Lola tried to reserve judgement. She knew very little about dementia – assuming it was that. Perhaps it was for their mother’s own safety.
Still, briefly, the mention of locked doors reminded her of the missing key to her own room and she wondered again if it had been Jimmy or Rose who had taken it and with what intention.
‘I’ll take her back,’ Jimmy told his sister. ‘No harm done.’
Was Agnes’s room at the end of the corridor, where Lola had heard noises coming from before going down to supper? She remembered how she thought the doorknob had turned. Had that been Agnes trying to get out?
Rose huffed out a breath and for a moment it looked like she was going to respond, but then she shook her head in either disappointment or annoyance – perhaps both – and took charge of the situation.
‘No,’ she shook her head. ‘I’ll do it.’
She spoke quietly but firmly to Jimmy, taking her agitated mother by the arm, and gave him a warning look to back off. Then, barely sparing Lola a glance, she walked Agnes across the landing and out of sight, leaving Jimmy and Lola standing awkwardly at the top of the stairs.
‘Bloody cold up here,’ Jimmy said, the first one to break the silence. He rubbed at his arms as though noticing the low temperature for the first time.
‘It is,’ Lola agreed. She was not looking forward to returning to her freezing room, though making painful small talk with Jimmy was just as uncomfortable.
‘I’m going to head down for another nightcap and warm myself up. The fire is still lit in the living room. Want to come?’
‘What time is it?’
Jimmy glanced at his watch. ‘Just after 1 a.m.’
So, late then, but there were several hours to kill. Lola didn’t want any more alcohol, but the thought of the fire still crackling away downstairs was tempting, and she was really thirsty. ‘I could use a glass of water,’ she said, following after him.
It was as they were almost to the foot of the stairs that Jimmy’s earlier words came back to her.
When he had found her standing by the lift, he had said, It doesn’t work, you know. Hasn’t done in ages.
At the time, Lola hadn’t paid much attention. She had been so preoccupied, wanting to know who was inside the carriage. But now she thought of her brother.
Rose had told her that she and Daniel had purposely picked a house with a lift already installed. So if Jimmy was correct and it hadn’t worked in a long time, how did Daniel manage to get up and down the stairs?
25
Lola played for time before going through to the living room, making a fuss of Monty, who was back in his bed in the corner of the room, then drinking two glasses of tap water whilst enjoying the warmth from the Aga and looking at the view out of the window.
The tealights that had bathed the room in a warm low glow had now burnt out and perhaps because of the darkness inside, the snow gleamed bright; it was crisp and untouched, and the scene looked perfect and peaceful.
Growing up, Lola had always hoped for a white Christmas. Sometimes snow fell a few days after, and on one occasion it had made an appearance a month early, but never on the actual day itself. How ironic that today was Christmas Eve and she finally had her wish, but the weather was trapping her somewhere she had no desire to be.
It’s just until daylight, she reminded herself, still trying to put a positive spin on her situation. She would hopefully be home in time for Christmas Day or at the very least back in her hotel room in Ely.
Away from Daniel and Rose and their secrets.
She would be a liar if she said she wasn’t curious about what they were hiding, but it wasn’t that important to her. The only thing she was keen to learn about was her father. If it wasn’t Nigel Whitlock, who was it?
The answers would have to wait until she was back home, as she didn’t trust Daniel and Rose to tell her the truth.
But Jimmy might, she realised. He had slipped up earlier, revealing information that he wasn’t supposed to.
She expected to find Daniel in the living room, but Jimmy was there alone as she entered, the dog trailing after her, and he was standing close to the fireplace, staring down at the flames, seeming mesmerised. He was still swaying a bit, the glass of what Lola assumed was whisky tilted forward and perilously close to spilling, and her breath caught when she saw him, frightened that he might topple forward.
‘No Daniel?’ she asked casually, relieved that her brother wasn’t there.
Jimmy shook his head, glancing at her briefly as she moved to stand beside him, before returning his attention to the fire.
For a few moments, they both stood in silence and as Lola watched Monty making himself comfortable at the foot of one of the sofas, she considered whether she should just stay down here for the rest of the night. Either here or in the kitchen. The biting-cold numbness had gradually worn off and her body had stopped shivering. As she drew in a deep contented breath, she earned another sidelong glance from Jimmy.
