Silent Waters, page 24
‘No—’ she said, but the denial was unconvincing.
‘It’s disgusting.’ He looked back at Mark. ‘You’ll be struck off as a coach and I’ll make sure you’re on the register as a sexual predator—’
Claudia stepped towards him. ‘Please, Henry, you can’t say anything! Mark and I can win gold together. Let us win.’
‘You’re a child, Claudia, and this is a serious violation.’
‘I’m not a child! I love him. We want to be together—’
Henry gave a snort of laughter. ‘Don’t be absolutely ridiculous.’
His mirth, his dismissal of her truest feelings, made her heart feel wild with rage. Before she even realised she was doing it, she’d launched forward with her arms outstretched, and shoved him hard in the chest with a strength she didn’t know she was capable of. In surprise, he fell backwards and his head took the brunt of the fall, catching the metal steps of the old tractor, with a sickening crack. His legs buckled and his body twisted at an unnatural angle as it slumped in the dirt.
The silence that followed was thick.
Mark knelt down. ‘What have you done?’
‘I . . . I didn’t mean to.’
‘I can’t—’ Mark moved his fingers to Henry’s wrist. ‘I can’t feel a pulse.’
‘What?’ Claudia dropped, put her head to Henry’s chest. ‘No, I think I feel a heartbeat? Isn’t there? Henry?’
Mark gripped her arm tightly. ‘Don’t scream – someone will hear you.’
‘I didn’t mean to – he made me so mad, but he’s OK, isn’t he? I didn’t push him that hard, I—’
‘He’s hit his head.’
‘I can’t see blood . . .’
Mark pulled her up. ‘Claudia. Listen to me. He’s not breathing. I’m trained in first aid.’
‘But—’
‘I think he’s dead.’
‘No – maybe I knocked him unconscious or he’s—’
‘He’s dead.’
She let out a howl and Mark drew her to his chest, to stifle her sobs.
‘Shh, you didn’t mean to.’
‘We need to call an ambulance,’ she cried into him.
He held her shoulders, stared straight into her eyes. ‘We can’t ring them.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘If we call an ambulance, then people are going to know that we were here together. The police would come and it would cause questions about how Henry came to hit his head.’
‘But—’
‘Do you want your mother to know what you did? You want the world to know? It would ruin your chances at diving, and my career.’
She looked down at Henry’s motionless body. ‘What do we do?’
‘I don’t know . . .’
He trailed off. His eyes were on the ground and she followed them to the floor where there was a lighter – Bill’s – dusty on the floor.
‘We need to pretend we were never here.’
She stared at him. ‘What?’
‘It was an accident, Claudia. You didn’t mean for it to happen.’
Her eyes blurred. ‘Of course it was an accident!’
He picked up the lighter, handed it to her. ‘Henry smoked cigars, you told me that.’
‘Yes?’
‘We need it to look like he fell, that his cigar caught fire. This whole barn is dry. It’ll go up.’
‘No, Mark.’
‘If Jen Harper and her brother are at the river, wait a while before you join them and pretend you’ve just got there.’
‘I—’
‘It’s the only way, Claudia. Isn’t it? I love you. OK? You didn’t mean to hurt him.’
She took the lighter from him. ‘I didn’t mean to.’
‘You need to do this.’
In pure panic, she did as he said. She lit the barn up in several places – on wisps of dry hay, the splintered wooden posts. She remembers bending to blow it, remembers the lick of tiny orange flames, the barn awakening. She remembers then walking back through the long grass, to the copse of trees, and throwing up there, the shock of it all pouring out of her, and crying so hard that she thought her lungs might burst. She had killed Henry, the one person who had always been so gentle with her, called her daughter. How could she have done it? She didn’t know how long she waited, but it was enough, because when she managed to drag herself up and navigate her way towards Jen and Bill across the river, the barn was fully alight.
‘The joint,’ Bill said. ‘I . . . I left it in there . . . I don’t know!’
She stared at him. Bill thought the fire was his fault.
‘You did what?’
‘I was smoking in there . . . I—’
‘There’s someone inside, Claud,’ Jen said.
She heard it then. Henry’s screaming.
Mark releases Claudia in the bedroom and she slides to the floor, her body convulsing with the unutterable pain of the memory. Henry wasn’t dead. She had knocked him unconscious, but Mark had got it wrong and they’d both panicked and that mistake is the worst torture of all. What kind of primitive terror must Henry have felt when he had woken and realised he couldn’t get out? Had he broken his back in the fall, or his legs? What sort of abandonment must he have felt in those last moments as the heat grew to become a furnace? Had he known that Claudia had started the fire, had he thought she had wanted to hurt him?
Mark stands over her, panting, as she sobs. Then, a sound that echoes from the hallway, up to the bedroom. The doorbell rings.
Claudia stares up at Mark. ‘Who’s that?’
She sees him swallow, his Adam’s apple move down his throat.
‘It could be reporters,’ he whispers. ‘Or it could be the police. Either way, what should we tell them?’
FORTY-SIX
Bill lets himself into Jen’s flat without knocking.
‘I don’t know where she can be,’ he says as he walks into the lounge.
He can see that Jen wants to tell him he’s been an idiot, but she doesn’t. Instead she opens her arms to him, waits for him to fall into them. It was so often this way round when they were children; though he was older, she always supported him emotionally. Nothing has changed now.
‘I’m sorry,’ he whispers.
‘I know.’
‘Are you OK?’
‘Not really.’
‘I’ve done everything wrong.’
‘I’ve also done some really shitty things if that makes you feel better,’ she says.
‘Do you have a lasagne or something?’
‘I’ve got chips.’
‘OK.’
She goes to the kitchen and he follows, shrugs his jacket off, puts it on the chair.
‘Do you know if anyone came forward about the footage of me?’ he asks as she goes to the freezer.
‘I haven’t heard anything if they have.’
‘But you think someone will?’
‘I think it’s inevitable.’
‘And then what?’
‘I don’t fucking know,’ she says. ‘We deal with it when it happens.’
She tips the bag of chips onto a tray. They’re the thick crinkly ones, his favourite.
Jen closes the oven door, turns the dial. ‘Why did you help her? Just because of money?’
‘Not just because of money. Because I didn’t want to be a coward all my life.’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘I should have listened to you. We ran away from a man who was burnt alive. Not just any man – Henry. He was always so nice to us and . . .’
‘It was an accident, Bill.’
He holds his hands up, doesn’t want to hear her try to justify the past. ‘I’ve made a mess of my life, Jen. I’ve lost stupid amounts of money and I’ve been stealing from the company. Amending invoices here and there, shaving off payments. I do it because I can’t deal with who I am. Henry and then Mum—’
‘We didn’t have any control over any of it.’
‘I should have told the police about Henry. Admitted to my joint being lost somewhere in there.’
‘The police report said that Henry banged his head somehow. They said that it was probably his cigar that started the fire.’
‘But we know differently,’ Bill says. ‘We know it was my joint in there. I lost it – I was so high and I . . .’
She places her hand on his shoulder. ‘He might have had a cigar in there. We’ll never know, Bill. Henry was always smoking them.’
‘I know I killed him and you can never convince me otherwise.’
She sighs, understands his need to bear the responsibility but wants to take the weight of it away for him.
‘Andy is checking over all the finances. He’ll know in a matter of days that I’ve been taking money.’
‘I could have covered them.’
‘Forty-five thousand pounds?’ he asks.
She inhales through her teeth. ‘Is that how much you owe?’
He is ashamed. ‘Yes.’
‘I have thirty thousand from Mark that’s in trust for Sam,’ she says. ‘And if you swore on your life you would pay it back, that you would give up those apps and sort yourself out, I would give it to you today. Tonight.’
Her words make him choke with emotion. ‘You would do that for me?’
‘Yes, because I love you. Because you and Sam are all I have.’
‘I’m scared, Jen.’
‘So am I.’
They sit in silence. They can say nothing to console one another, but there is an odd comfort in the awful shared heaviness of it.
‘Aren’t you meant to be diving?’ he asks.
‘We go back in tomorrow,’ she says. ‘I—’ She hesitates. ‘I need to show you something. Wait a second.’
She walks to the bedroom and then comes back out again, holding the black-and-white houndstooth jacket.
He frowns. ‘What’s that?’
‘This is Victoria Franklin’s.’
His mouth falls.
‘I need to know why it’s here in my flat,’ she says and her voice breaks. ‘I need to know what happened that night.’
‘I didn’t bring it here,’ he says. ‘I swear to God.’
‘Did Claudia?’
‘I don’t ever remember seeing her with it?’
She’s interrupted by a thumping on the door. Not a knock, but a thump.
‘Open up. Police.’
Bill stares at Jen, who stares back at him before she runs to her room, bundling the jacket under her arm.
‘Did you hide it?’ he hisses.
‘In Sam’s room – fuck, should I tell them I have it? I don’t know what to do!’
He puts his hand to her shaking arm. ‘You can’t, Jen. You can’t tell them. Stay calm.’
‘Do you think they’ve found Claudia?’
‘I don’t—’
‘Police! Open the door.’
Jen opens all the locks, and a man in uniform stands at the doorway, two officers behind him, a man and a woman.
‘Are you Jennifer Harper?’ the first officer asks.
‘Yes? What’s—’
The first officer looks over her shoulder at Bill.
‘Are you Bill Harper?’
‘Yeah?’
‘Bill Harper, you’re under arrest for the abduction of Claudia Franklin and will be questioned regarding the death of Victoria Franklin.’
Bill can only stare, dumbly, at them all.
‘What the fuck is going on?’ Jen growls. ‘Someone tell me what the fuck is happening?’
‘Claudia Franklin has come into the station,’ he replies. ‘She’s told us everything.’
FORTY-SEVEN
Jen is stunned. ‘Told you what? What’s she told you?’
The officer ignores her, starts speaking to Bill.
‘You do not have to say anything. But it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence.’
Jen puts herself in between the officer and her brother. ‘Hey, hey, what are you doing? He’s done nothing wrong, you hear me?’
‘We’re not at liberty to discuss this with you—’
‘Then you can get out of my house and come back in the morning when you’ve had your chance to fact-check,’ she snaps. ‘How dare you come in here and—’
The other male officer steps forward, starts to steer her into another room.
‘Get off me,’ she starts, but then freezes.
Sam is standing in the door frame, his pale face illuminated by the light of the living room. He looks frightened.
‘Sam,’ she whispers.
The officer hears the panic in her voice and releases her immediately.
‘Mummy? Why are the police here? Are they your friends?’
‘That’s right, bub. Some of my friends from the station,’ she says, plastering a smile to her face. ‘Can you be an angel and grab Uncle Bill’s coat from the kitchen? He’s going to watch a game of football.’
Sam’s face lights up. ‘Can I go, too?’
‘No, bub.’
Sam looks to the officer.
‘Another time, mate,’ he replies gruffly, not meeting Sam’s eyes.
‘Here, I’ll go with you to get your uncle’s coat,’ the third officer says, appearing beside Jen. She smiles down at Sam. ‘My name is Jaina.’
‘On the back of the chair, OK?’ Jen says. She’s trying to sound as normal as possible, but on the inside she’s screaming. Please, she thinks, do not go back into your room. Do not let Jaina into your room. What would happen if they found the jacket? What mess would she be in then?
Jen moves back to the living room, where the first officer stands grim-faced beside Bill. ‘Bill’s not done anything, I swear to God.’
‘Your superior has been notified of your involvement with this case, and has given his permission for us to retrieve your badge, your radio and your ID.’
This is the moment where her heart breaks. She’s kept it together until this point but now it’s unravelling. Idris already knows that she has lied to him, that she is corrupt. The shame runs so deep that it physically cripples her. She steadies herself against the door frame.
‘But I know things,’ she tries. ‘We both do, about Claudia! Whatever she’s said, I can tell you that it’s wrong—’
He ignores her.
‘Jen, it’s OK,’ Bill says. ‘I can straighten this out.’
‘She’s set you up, Bill, that fucking bitch!’
‘No,’ he says. ‘She wouldn’t have done that. It’s a misunderstanding—’
‘Are you stupid? Didn’t you hear the charges?’
‘I’ve found something.’
Jen turns to see Jaina, holding Bill’s coat and another. The houndstooth jacket.
‘Sir, I think this is Victoria Franklin’s missing coat.’
There’s a beat of silence.
‘Wait—’ Jen says. ‘Please. It’s not . . .’ But she falters because to deny it will be worse.
‘It’s OK, Jen,’ Bill says. ‘I’ll explain it all.’
She wants to grab him, hold him to her and never let go, because how can he possibly explain it? The jacket, the tie, the blood on the fence. All circumstantial evidence that will put him away. Her brother who has always tried to do the right thing but somehow always manages to come off in the wrong light.
‘I’ll come with you, hang on—’
The first officer looks to Jen. ‘You know that is not possible,’ he says. ‘The investigation team will be talking to you in the morning. From this moment, you’re suspended. Please get me your badge, your radio and your ID.’
‘Please—’
‘Please retrieve them.’
Heart thrumming, Jen goes to her jacket for her badge, the kitchen drawer for her documents and radio. This can’t be happening, she thinks. Any minute and she’ll wake up from this nightmare.
‘Mum? Are you OK?’
Sam is behind her.
‘Yes, bub.’
But she slams the drawer shut, makes him jump, and marches back to the living room, where the officer now has Bill’s hands behind his back.
‘Have fun, Uncle Bill!’
‘Thanks, Samster,’ he says and then looks at Jen. ‘It’s going to be OK.’
‘You will get a call tomorrow morning to come to the station,’ the officer says and then they’re all gone.
Jen presses the bell, and keeps her finger on it so hard that the tip turns white. She knows how it’ll trill inside the house, echo around that huge hallway, but there is no answer.
‘What have you done, Claudia?’ she shouts. ‘What have you done!’
She picks up a stone, hurls it as hard as she can over the black railings and then watches it land, ineffectually, nowhere near the house.
She screams as loudly as she can, wants her voice to reach where the stone couldn’t. ‘I know you’re in there!
Sam is in the car down the lane, sitting in the warmth of the heaters and with the radio on. He’s asleep, but if he was to wake up, he could probably hear her screaming. She shouldn’t have brought him here, but she’s so angry, so vengeful. Claudia has betrayed them, but why? And what the hell can Jen do about it? Bill will be at the station now, will be giving his fingerprints and his DNA for elimination, except she knows that his DNA will be a match to the tie and the fence, and what then?
‘Come out and talk to me!’
She picks up another stone and launches it. It doesn’t even go as far as the first one. Nothing can ever touch Claudia Franklin.
And then, the shadow of a person in the window. The front door opening and then someone runs out.
‘You’re sick!’
It’s not Claudia or Mark. Jen blinks. It’s a woman who sounds furious and Jen watches as another figure chases her down the driveway. There’s shouting, but Jen can’t make out words. She suddenly feels very strange – dizzy and unanchored, like she’s floating. And then there’s humming, that same humming sound that’s been in her ears for weeks.
Jen gasps, and then she wakes up.
She’s been dreaming that she’s screaming at Claudia through the railings, but she hasn’t yelled, hasn’t thrown stones. But she is here at Oak House. The dawn is creeping in and she can see that no one is on the driveway and no one is at the window. She’s walked the loop yet again, has stopped here again at the railings. She looks to the lane and there’s no car there, no Sam.
