Creeping Ivy, page 6
‘When she understood I wasn’t playing games,’ he said reluctantly. Then, as though something in Kath’s sympathetically encouraging smile spoke to him, he added: ‘She came back here one evening after I’d got her to move out to say we were going to be parents. It was – technically – possible, but I didn’t believe her then. And I don’t now. She’d never expected me to find anyone else. I’m sure the announcement was revenge for that. In a way, you know, she gave up trying to make me believe the child was mine too easily for it to have been true.’
‘Ah. Yes. I see. While we’re here, would it be all right if Constable Herrick had a quick look round? Nothing formal like a search, but he’d better have a look, if you don’t mind. I expect you can imagine the sort of report I have to give my superiors when we get back.’
‘Sure. Nothing’s locked except the garden door. The keys are on the right of it behind the curtains. If you need anything, just shout, Constable Herrick.’
‘Right you are.’
‘So you’ve never talked to Charlotte at all, never got to know her?’ said Kath as soon as Herrick was out of the way.
‘That’s right.’ Ben Weblock shut his eyes for a moment as though they were hurting.
‘Why does that upset you, sir?’ she asked, trying to disguise the sharpness of her interest.
‘Because for the first time I’ve been regretting that I was so stubborn.’
‘Why’s that?’
‘If I had known her, I might have been able to help. Have ideas about what could have happened to her. It’s …’ He shook his head. ‘How is Antonia? Have you seen her?’
‘No, sir. Colleagues of mine are talking to her now.’
‘God! I hope she’s all right. Charlotte, I mean. Antonia could cope with most things, but any four-year-old facing …’ His voice died. Kath watched him keenly as he struggled. After a moment he tried again. ‘D’you think she’s still …?’
‘I couldn’t say, sir,’ said Kath quickly. ‘And I don’t think it’s a good idea to speculate. We’ve all heard too much these days of what can happen to little children who are abducted, and it may not be as bad as that. We’ll get some news soon. It’s usually quite quick.’
‘Is it? Haven’t there been cases when it’s been weeks before a body’s found, sometimes years?’
‘Bodies, sir?’
‘Aren’t they usually killed when they’re as young as this?’
Could any normal man, Kath asked herself, be able to ask a question like that about a child who might have been his own daughter? His voice had trembled badly earlier on and yet he had brought out that question as though he had been asking the price of tea. Even if he’d convinced himself that someone else had impregnated his wife, he must have wondered in the intervening years whether he had been wrong. And now that the child might be dead, shouldn’t he be more upset?
‘Where were you yesterday afternoon?’
‘Here, working on next week’s lessons, until I took the dog for her usual walk.’
‘I see. And was anyone else here with you?’
‘No. My wife was conducting a seminar – it was the first part of a weekend course that concludes today – and she didn’t get back until nearly six. And as far as I can remember, no one phoned or called. So I haven’t any witnesses, either. Sorry.’
‘What about the neighbours? Might they have seen you?’
‘They might. But we’re a polite lot round here and don’t go poking our noses into other people’s business. And I didn’t go into the garden or play heavy metal music or anything obvious like that. You may just have to take my word for it.’
‘That’s not something we ever do,’ came Herrick’s voice from behind Kath. She looked over her shoulder. He gave a small, disappointed shake of the head.
‘Ready, Sam?’
‘Yeah, Sarge.’
‘Well, thank you very much, Mr Weblock. You’ve been very helpful. Here’s my number in case you should hear anything or think of anything that might be useful. You will ring us, won’t you?’
‘If I have anything to tell,’ he said with a warmer smile. ‘But it’s unlikely. I’m too cut off down here and much too far from Antonia’s household to hear anything useful.’
‘Maybe, but you never know. You’re a teacher, aren’t you, sir?’
‘That’s right. At the local primary.’ He laughed in a modest way that made Sam Herrick look as though he felt like throwing up. ‘One of the few men left. Unlike the rest, I still think getting kids happy enough at school to teach them the basic skills is the most important job in teaching.’
‘You like children, do you?’ asked Sam, not even attempting to sound sympathetic.
‘Yes, Constable Herrick. I like them very much.’
‘Then why haven’t you any of your own?’
‘I don’t think that question is within your remit, is it?’ He looked from Herrick to Kath Lacie and back again.
‘In the circumstances, sir,’ she reminded him quietly, ‘I think just about any question is legitimate. Don’t you?’
‘Maybe. All right. My wife, my second wife, and I have not been able to have any yet. It’s not something either of us enjoys talking about. But you can check with the local doctor if you need confirmation. He sees both of us and knows all about us.’
‘Thank you,’ said Kath. ‘If you could just give me his name and address?’
Weblock dictated it and then stood up as though expecting them to leave.
‘Any of the kids in your school ever disappeared or gone on the at-risk register, or had any unexplained injuries?’ asked Sam, quite suddenly. ‘Anything like that, sir, that we ought to know about? In your classes or any of the others?’
‘No, Constable, nothing like that.’
‘But you’ll admit that it happens,’ said Sam, sounding to Kath as though he were trying to needle Weblock. She decided to let him run a little longer before she reeled him in.
‘According to the papers, sure. But I’ve never come face to face with anything like that and I’ve begun to think there’s a lot less of it about than most people believe.’
‘Oh, you do, do you? Know any paedophiles yourself, sir?’
‘No, Constable, I do not.’
‘Some people say they need treatment, sir, not punishment. What d’you reckon to that?’
Ben Weblock sighed and leaned against the ugly mustard-coloured wall, putting his hands in the pockets of his wide buff corduroy trousers.
‘Everyone who breaks the law should be punished. But anyone who mistreats children needs education and therapy to—’
‘Therapy, sir?’ Sam Herrick’s voice was disgusted.
‘To make them confront their offending behaviour,’ Ben said steadily, apparently unaffected either by the officer’s voice or the contempt in his face. ‘Come on, Constable, don’t look so surprised. You must know they say things like: “she enjoyed it”; “she was flirting with me, asking for it”; “it didn’t do me any harm, so why should it hurt him?”. They have to be taught about that line no one can cross. And they have to be made to admit the damage they do when it is crossed.’
‘You’re beginning to sound quite passionate, sir.’
‘Oh, I am, Constable. On that subject, I am a passionate man. Aren’t you?’
‘Yeah, well.’
Herrick opened his mouth and looked as though he might say something else, perhaps something unforgivable, and so Kath Lacie pushed him to go ahead of her out of the house.
‘Thank you, Mr Weblock,’ she said when they were alone again. ‘I have to say that I agree with you.’
‘Good. Will you tell me when the child’s found? I can’t rely on
Antonia to keep me informed.’
‘OK, if I can. But I expect you’ll hear it on the radio before I can get to you. Goodbye.’
Sam Herrick was already in the driving seat of the car by the time Kath reached it.
‘Well?’ she said as she buckled her seat belt, aware that Ben Weblock was standing in the open doorway, looking down the steps at them. ‘What did you find in the house, Sam?’
‘Sod all, Sarge. No sign of any kids’ things anywhere except for some paintings tacked up on the kitchen walls. It was a right mess upstairs, I can tell you. Women’s clothes draped over all the chairs in the bedroom; clean, but they didn’t look as if they’d ever seen an iron. Piles of towels and sheets, too, mixed in with them. Doesn’t look as though his second woman is much of a housewife.’
Kath suppressed the obvious comment in the interests of getting the information she needed as quickly as possible.
‘Nothing in the cellar neither, nor signs of digging in the garden. That was just as bad as the house: bit of ratty grass in the middle, unpruned roses with blackspot gone all leggy in the flower beds and all sorts of dead shrubs, too. My old man would turn in his grave. No one’s dug any earth there in years. And the fence needed treating. It’s nearly rotted through in places; be down in the next strong wind. Couple of sluts, if you ask me. But no sign of any kid or kids.’
‘Right. We’ll have to talk to the neighbours, but not, I think, just now while he’s so aware of us. And to colleagues at his school. And the doctor. What did you think of him?’
‘Big girl’s blouse. I’m not surprised his ex fooled around.’
‘Really? Why?’
‘She was trying to get him to play the man for once, wasn’t she? Put his foot down an’ tell her that he wanted her and no other damned bloke was going to get his … get his hands on her.’
‘What an interesting idea!’
‘Why the sarkiness, Sarge?’
‘I thought he might be a good man,’ Kath said slowly, looking through the pristine windscreen but not seeing any of the traffic or the pedestrians. She was thinking about the worn, lined face and the kind smile, the warm voice, and the careful intelligence she had sensed in the man they had just left. ‘I’d like to have been taught by him when I was at primary school. Wouldn’t you?’
‘Not sure I can remember that long ago,’ said Sam with the realism that was his most admirable characteristic. ‘But I doubt it. He’d have been too much of a creep for me even then.’
‘I think he might be tougher than you give him credit for.’
‘Come on, Sarge. He was a jellyfish. What d’you reckon? Could he have nicked the kid?’
‘A man like that? I can’t see it, can you?’
‘Only if he’d done it to get back at his ex. Not to hurt the child; I can’t see him doing that. But I can see him putting her somewhere safe so he could watch his ex squirm.’
‘You’ve got a nasty mind, haven’t you, Sam?’
‘It’s what they pay me for.’
Chapter Six
‘What shall I do, Trish? I can’t sit here waiting – I’m not used to it. I don’t know how to let other people run things any more.’
‘You’ve got to, Antonia. The police know what they’re doing. There’ll be plenty for you to do yourself when …’ Trish paused, reluctant to offer false comfort and yet unable to make herself correct her ‘when’ to an ‘if’. ‘Later,’ she added feebly. ‘Let’s talk about something else. Tell me about Robert.’
‘What about him?’
‘How things are going with him. Whether you’re happy. That sort of thing.’
‘Why?’ Suspicion stood out all around Antonia’s head like the quills of a threatened porcupine. Trish could almost hear the rattle.
With the discovery of blood in Charlotte’s toy pram and news of the marks on her arms, it was impossible not to believe that someone in the house had been hurting her. Knowing from the statistics that Robert was a much more likely suspect than the nanny, Trish wanted to find out a lot more about him. Antonia was the only person who’d be able to tell her anything useful, but she was looking so suspicious that she would have to be approached with care.
After a moment, Trish delved into her own private weediness and said, ‘Because I’m so bad, at relationships, and I don’t understand why. I thought hearing about yours might give me a clue.’
Not all that convincing, she told herself as she waited for Antonia to answer. I know exactly why. It’s because I hate the way men make you peel back all your defences until you’ve none left and then bugger off – or else use you for target practice. Either way you end up miserable, furious, and scared of the self you’ve found below the pith.
‘I used to be able to keep an affair going for nearly a year but these days I can’t stick it for more than about three months. I look at people like you and Robert and admire you like anything and then start wondering how you do it.’
‘By not thinking too much.’ Antonia’s voice was dry but a good deal of the suspicion had gone. ‘That’s always fatal.’
‘Why? I mean, what is it you’re afraid you might find if you did start thinking about Robert?’
‘Nothing awful, so there’s no need to look so interested. I’m not a romantic like you and I’ve seen too much to believe in eternal bliss or even happy-ever-after; it’s better to concentrate on the surface and not go digging for trouble.’
I’ve seen too much, too, thought Trish, but that’s why I won’t put up with any of it any more.
‘Come on, Trish, you know as well as I do that no man ever stays as attractive – or as keen – as he was at the beginning. That’s just life. But I’d say Robert’s probably as good as they come. We still like doing the same things, and he makes me laugh,’ Antonia’s lips parted in a smile that was at least half a grimace. And he never yearns at me like Ben always did. That used to make me feel sick.’
‘Yes, I know. I could see that you hated it.’
‘Wouldn’t you?’ Antonia demanded sharply.
‘Probably,’ Trish said, hoping that her voice was as calmly affectionate as it ought to be to excuse what she was going to say. ‘But perhaps he wouldn’t have yearned so much if he’d had more confidence in what you felt about him. He always did need a lot of bolstering, didn’t he, poor Ben? And you were a touch niggardly in handing that out.’
Antonia smiled, some of the familiar queenliness returning to her posture and her eyes. ‘You were pretty keen on him yourself, weren’t you? I used to wonder at one stage if you might be trying to cut me out.’
‘You didn’t, did you? When?’
‘Oh, ages ago,’ Antonia said vaguely.
‘You must’ve been mad. I was always fond of him, of course I was, but in a cousinly kind of way,’ said Trish, before adding more truthfully: ‘He was yours from the beginning and you know what I think about people who break up other people’s marriages.’
‘I ought to, you’ve told me often enough. Do you ever see your father these days?’
‘No,’ Trish would have talked happily about almost anything to keep Antonia from tormenting herself with pictures of what might be happening to Charlotte, but she still found it hard to discuss her father with anyone.
He had disappeared with brutal suddenness when Trish was eight. Looking back, she was amazed how well her mother had managed, refusing to panic and finding both a job and a cottage she could afford to rent on her meagre salary within a month. She had had no financial help from her husband until she eventually forced him into court five years after his desertion, but even so she had managed to give Trish nearly everything her schoolmates had. It must have been extraordinarily hard for her, and yet she had never once criticised him in Trish’s hearing. In retrospect that seemed positively saintly.
In fact, it could have been a bit too saintly. There had been times when Trish felt that a little criticism might have helped. Her father had never bothered to get in touch with her. She’d had no letters from him, no Christmas or birthday presents, no congratulations on any of her exam successes, no contact at all until she had appeared in the papers as a rising young barrister, and by then it was far too late. She was too angry to let him anywhere near her, and she was damned if he was going to take the credit for any success she might have achieved. Her mother had a right to that; but no one else.
‘Sorry,’ said Antonia, looking curiously at her. ‘I didn’t realise it was such a sore subject.’
Trish shrugged. ‘Just one I find difficult to talk about. Tell me about Robert instead.’
‘He didn’t break up my marriage to Ben, so you can stop looking so disapproving. It was that American bitch of Ben’s who wrecked it, as you very well know. I didn’t meet Robert until later.’
‘Yes, I do know,’ said Trish, keeping her thoughts about Antonia’s many affairs to herself.
‘And life is much easier with him than it ever was with Ben.’
‘Is it? Good. In what sort of ways?’
‘Oh, lots,’ said Antonia with a peculiar smile. ‘If I’m honest …’ She paused and then a moment later nodded as though either she or Trish had said something. ‘Yes, I think a lot of it has got to do with the way Robert loathes all the things Ben always thought were so wonderful.’
‘Like what?’
‘Oh, come on, Trish. You must remember how Ben used to bang on about the wonders of family life. He was forever fantasising about clean nappies drying on one of those old nursery fireguards with the flames flickering behind them and a clutch of dewy naked babies playing with hand-carved bone rattles on a hearthrug woven by his devoted wife during long winter evenings while he did manly work in the fresh air somewhere else. There’d be apple pies in the oven, smelling of cinnamon, and me being plump and aproned, smiling adoringly whenever he chose to come home to pay my bills and keep me safe and tell me what to do. Ugh!’
Trish had never seen evidence of so much imagination from Antonia before and hoped she was not goggling in astonishment.
‘Robert would detest all that as much as I do. He likes decent restaurants and adult company and a much more sophisticated kind of life altogether. And he’s not in the least threatened by my success. Ben couldn’t ever hack that. It was weird, you know; I’d always earned infinitely more than him even at the beginning, but he insisted on paying for everything. I suppose it was some kind of power trip, but it drove me mad. Robert’s completely different. He loves the fact that I make such a lot and positively encourages me to lavish money on him.’
