Wish You Were Here, page 25
Kris looked at Sian and nodded encouragement. So Sian stood up and walked towards Kitty. The younger woman saw her approach and seemed to tell her friends to leave her for a moment. As Sian got closer, she became surer. It was her. Yes, her hair was dark now, and she was the kind of privileged woman who had layers of sophistication that disguised everything about who she really was. But Sian was sure of it. She had looked enough at the photos to be certain.
Now it was just the two of them, facing one another in the church. Kitty smiled at Sian. ‘Nice of you to come, darling sissy.’ She managed to make this sound almost sincere and perhaps had a career in acting ahead of her despite her father’s sullied reputation.
Sian didn’t smile. ‘I’m sorry about your father,’ she said.
Kitty nodded. ‘Thanks.’ She swallowed, and Sian saw the very slight lump in her throat dip before her eyes blinked behind the veil and layers of mascara. ‘But that’s not what you came here to say, is it?’
Sian smiled then, slowly, sadly. ‘I think you’re Courtney Johnson,’ she said, an echo of her meeting with Ana that had started all of this.
Kitty didn’t answer. She didn’t confirm or deny Sian’s suspicion. She just smiled.
They were in a side room in the church – the place where the vicar stored his vestments and got changed just before his services. Sian knew it had a name but wasn’t sure what that was. It smelled strongly of furniture polish and mothballs.
Kitty sat very still and took off her veil. Her make-up looked even heavier now her face was uncovered, and less professional – the contouring more obvious and the black flicks above her eyes not quite matching. ‘I don’t have long,’ Kitty said. ‘I need to get to the cemetery.’
‘I understand,’ Sian said.
‘So, what do you want to know? And what are you planning to do?’ She laughed. ‘Tell the world? No, I don’t think you want to do that.’ There was menace in her voice, warning.
Sian was suddenly aware of the smallness of the room and how alone they were. She should have insisted that Kris come with her. But Kitty had said ‘alone’, and Sian had merely nodded. ‘Are you threatening me?’ Sian said.
Kitty threw her head back and laughed. ‘Of course not,’ she said. Then her voice turned very cold. ‘Are you recording this conversation?’ she said.
‘No,’ Sian said. ‘I don’t do that kind of thing.’ This was not strictly true; Sian absolutely had it in her to be devious, if it were in the line of duty, but she was trying hard not to be these days. ‘I promise I’m not,’ she said.
‘Right then, to be clear, this is off the record. In case you’re a reporter. I know you guys have very few scruples, but “off the record” does mean something.’
‘I’m not a reporter.’
Kitty considered her and then seemed to believe it. ‘Good,’ she said. ‘Well, you’re to tell no one in any case. Do I have your word?’
‘OK,’ Sian said. Although the reality was that it would depend. She wouldn’t keep a secret that put someone else in danger. Or Kitty, for that matter. She knew, however, that if she said that aloud, Kitty would stop talking.
‘I know who I am. I’ve always known. My dad was nothing if not honest with me. The thing is, the truth isn’t the story you think it is. My biological mother – Lorraine – she was never my mum. All of that…’ Her voice trailed off. ‘Well, it was all a lie. That’s all I can tell you right now because I have to see my dad’s body put in the ground.’
‘I need to know the rest. If I’m to keep this to myself,’ Sian said.
Kitty nodded. There was a pad of paper on the table beside her and a fountain pen. She picked them up and tried to write. No ink was coming from the pen, so she shook it a few times and then a spot hit the paper. She wrote down a mobile phone number and the name of a hotel. ‘This is my number, and this is where I’m staying. We’ll talk tomorrow night, over a proper drink, like civilised people.’
Sian took the piece of paper from her, wafting it in the air to dry the ink. Then she folded it carefully and put it in her coat pocket. ‘Thank you,’ she said.
Kitty shrugged in a non-committal way. She stood up.
Sian also had to stand and leave the room to let the young woman by. She watched her from the door, going to rejoin her friends. They turned towards their friend, reaching out hands to touch her back and shoulders, appearing concerned. She said something that seemed to put them more at ease and then something else that made them laugh. Then they were all heading towards the door together.
Sian walked out into the main chamber of the church and went to find Kris. She saw Kitty disappear through the main door and wondered if she would ever see her again.
The London hotel where Kitty Bennett was staying was a very classy boutique type, which Sian knew the moment she walked in would be incredibly expensive. She made her way through to the bar. Kitty was sitting at a table alone, reading a book and drinking a long clear drink with peppercorns in it that Sian suspected contained some particularly special brand of gin. Her make-up was a step or two less dramatic than the previous day but still very much in evidence. Sian found she felt very nervous as she walked towards her, wondering where to start.
Kitty glanced up as Sian approached. She put a bookmark in the novel and placed it down on the table; a very careful gesture. Sian sat down opposite Kitty, who waved over the waiter with a confident smile.
‘What would you like to drink?’ Her voice sounded hollow; strange and abstract in this beautiful place.
Sian considered asking for a soft drink, just for a moment. But she decided she needed something alcoholic. ‘Vodka and tonic, please,’ she said to the waiter.
‘Any particular vodka?’ His smile was sickly sweet, and Sian couldn’t help wondering if this was a trick question.
‘The house is fine,’ she said, batting it away. She didn’t care if some waiter made a judgement about her based on her lack of discernment when it came to vodka.
‘Of course.’ He nodded and smiled, walking away.
‘So, shall we get down to business?’ Kitty asked.
Sian had to grin at this, and she shook her head.
‘What?’ Kitty said, looking slightly offended.
‘You’re just…’ Sian hesitated and gestured at Kitty, up and down. ‘Just so well put together. Confident. You act like someone twice your age.’
Doubt clouded Kitty’s features then and, for a fleeting moment, she did look her age. She recovered herself.
‘You’ve really always known that you were Courtney?’ Sian kept her voice suitably low, which was just as well since the waiter returned with her drink just as she sat back after asking the question.
Kitty was nodding, a slow grin spreading across her face. She watched the waiter walk away and, when he was out of hearing, she spoke again. ‘In the sense that Courtney ever existed. Which she didn’t. Not really.’
Sian was confused. She tried to think about the right way to frame her questions.
‘My name is Catherine Bennett, Kitty. Always has been, always will be. Unlike the other siblings, I was not an accident. My father wanted a family. He didn’t want to get married. He couldn’t trust them, you see, any of them. So, when he met Lorraine, he proposed a business transaction.’
Sian found herself picking up her drink and taking a big mouthful before staring again at Kitty. ‘Surrogacy?’
‘I suppose you could call it that,’ Kitty said. ‘Only dad didn’t want hospitals or doctors involved, any forms or legal stuff. So he made a more, well, unconventional arrangement. That’s why there was no paperwork. No messiness. Well, until Lorraine Johnson decided to make it messy.’ She made her drink spin with the plastic stirrer then picked up the glass. ‘Stupid bitch.’
Sian was a bit taken aback by this language Kitty used towards her own mother, even if she hadn’t really known her. Sian looked at this young woman and all she could think was brainwashing. But was she being condescending? She tried to think carefully about her words before she spoke. ‘And you definitely believed him? Your dad? What he said about this?’
Kitty let out a puff of a laugh. ‘He didn’t lie to me. Never!’ She took a drink and looked at Sian from under her extended lashes. ‘It was one of his rules. He always promised me, if I asked him a question, I’d get the truth. He warned me not to ask unless I wanted the truth, and I learned that this was good advice on several occasions, wished I’d followed it.’ She smiled wistfully. ‘But anyway. I know what you probably think about my dad. What everyone thinks about my dad. But he isn’t the monster you all think he is.’
‘He was an abuser. A serial abuser.’
She shrugged. ‘They say “abuse”. He always said “business transaction”, one that they had totally signed up to. So it depends who you believe.’ She took another drink, sitting back and sucking in her cheeks. She seemed to be trying to look sophisticated. ‘The real problem is that they so often weren’t happy with the deal, thought they could get more from him. Constantly trying to milk him for more, the lot of them. All so bloody greedy. And my natural mother was the worst of them.’ The echo of her father’s voice from beyond the grave came across in these words.
Sian stared at Kitty. She supposed the young woman got points for loyalty, but it was disappointing. And a little scary. Just what did her father do to her that made her so scathing about these women, so unsympathetic? ‘But you were taken from a Brighton beach, from your mother. It wasn’t a business deal. It was an abduction. The police looked for you for years. Your aunt fronted a campaign.’
Kitty laughed again. ‘Yeah, she did. And you know she was one of dad’s girlfriends, right? Longer term than some of the others.’
‘I knew that he was Poppy’s father and I gathered he’d helped Mandy keep her daughter away from the limelight when Courtney went missing. I didn’t know it had been a romantic thing, been serious,’ Sian said. ‘But I’m still missing a piece here.’
Kitty was still smiling. She reached in front of her to a sequined handbag that was sitting on the low table. She opened it and took out a piece of paper, passing it over to Sian. ‘The details are all here, dates, times, everything. Please do take your time to check them out when we’re done. You’ll see that my birth was registered as Catherine Julia Bennett on the day I was actually born, by my actual dad, with both parents’ names on the certificate. Then Lorraine registered me three weeks later with father marked ‘unknown’ and refused to surrender me the way she’d promised. My dad gave her more money and agreed she could see me every third weekend. But that wasn’t enough, was it?’ She took another drink and looked as though she was actively trying to calm herself down. ‘Then, when I was two, she did something really stupid. Pretended I’d been abducted.’ Kitty looked angry now, her teeth gritted. ‘She wanted to keep me away from my dad.’
‘Maybe she had reasons for that.’
Kitty’s expression turned to concrete. ‘Whatever,’ she said. ‘Predictable response.’ She waved again at the waiter. ‘I’d like you gone by the time he gets here. You’ve got what you wanted.’
Sian stood up, putting the piece of paper into her pocket.
‘You promised not to tell anyone,’ Kitty said. She seemed suddenly very young again.
‘Yes,’ Sian said, ‘I did.’ And with that, she turned and walked away.
Talent is…
Sun shines through the skylights at Brighton Station. Footsteps echo as a few people come and go from the platforms although it’s still very early, very quiet. Lorraine wants to be up and out of the city before people are awake enough to notice her leaving. She’s told no one. Will tell no one where she’s gone. Start a new life away from everything that’s happened. Today is Courtney’s fifth birthday, and Lorraine can’t spend another one here, in Brighton, wanting her daughter back and unable to have that.
The sound of an announcement drowns out her thoughts. Lorraine sits and stares at the departure board. She holds tight to her ticket as if she’s scared she might lose it. She looks around and behind her. Then at the ticket again. Then around and behind her again. Another announcement startles Lorraine. She shivers despite the summer heat. She stands up and checks again that she has the ticket. Then she walks to the platform, even though she knows the London train isn’t due for another fifteen minutes.
Lorraine is alone on the platform. She looks down the track as if that might make her train arrive earlier. Then there’s an announcement to stand back from the platform. There’s a non-stopping train approaching. She does this before turning to see the fast train approaching the platform behind her. She stumbles slightly and tries to right herself. And that’s when she sees the guy. She’s seen him before. Following her. It’s definitely the same man.
Everything happens quickly. The man grabs her. He pulls her arm behind her so that she can’t move for feeling it might break. He holds her like that for seconds. She’s staring at the opposite platform. The one where the non-stop train is coming.
Then he shoves her. There’s that whistling sound and the suck of air as the train passes.
The man wipes his hands against each other. He turns from the platform and looks around him, checking for anyone who might have seen. But there is no one. The guard is chatting and giggling with someone on the bridge, on his way to deal with the London train. But he is looking into the eyes of the woman he’s talking to.
Nobody saw.
SEVENTEEN
Kris was on one of his final late shifts, and Sian found herself alone in the house. She wondered how much time she’d get like this, alone in a peaceful, quiet house, once Kris’s retirement had gone through and they were officially business partners. She curled up on the sofa and pulled the throw over her knees. She pressed play on the crime series she was currently obsessed with and then noticed a news alert on her phone. She paused the TV and clicked the link.
It was about the Phil Bennett inquest, which had opened and was proving far from the simple affair many had expected it be. There were a number of questions around his death and how he’d come to be able to take his own life, and hints at something surprising on the post-mortem. Maybe Mandy Johnson wasn’t crazy after all. Sian thought about that day she’d tried to visit Bennett in Belmarsh and how she’d thought she’d seen Dan Harris in a prison officer’s uniform on his way out. Maybe that hadn’t been as crazy as she’d thought either. She wondered who the hell Harris really was and who he worked for and whether she’d ever know.
Elvis started to bark. ‘Calm down, boy,’ she said. But his barking became more intent and then the doorbell went off. Sian sighed. She threw herself back against the sofa like a petulant child and then pulled herself to standing, wondering who the hell was calling at this time of the evening. Kris and Sian didn’t have the kind of friends and family who would just call by on the off chance. Sian was worried it would be bad news. She steeled herself as she walked to the door. Elvis was still barking, and she told him to stand back. He did as he was told, and she opened it. Ana was standing there.
‘Hello,’ Sian said, taking a step back. Ana looked older, very tired. Her once brightly dyed hair had long dirty-looking roots and looked like it hadn’t been washed in weeks. There were dark rings around her eyes; she didn’t look like she’d had much sleep of late. Sian stood and stared at her, wondering if it was a good idea to let her in. But she couldn’t leave her standing on the street. She opened the door wider. Ana walked in and sat down on the sofa. ‘Can I get you a drink? Something to eat?’ Sian asked her.
‘Is this show good?’ Ana said, not answering Sian’s question but noticing the title on the still-paused TV.
‘I like it.’ Sian was walking towards the kitchen. She decided that Ana needed a drink and something to eat, even if she wasn’t going to say so. She poured them both a small glass of wine and picked up several packets of crisps, bringing these through and putting them on the coffee table in front of her. Sian sat on the armchair and took a sip from her own drink. ‘Are you OK?’ she asked.
Ana didn’t answer that either. She didn’t touch the crisps but picked up the glass of wine. ‘You said you’d found out who my father is.’
Sian sighed. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘But I don’t think you’ll like it.’
Ana took a drink, almost a mechanical action. ‘Maybe I won’t like it, but you promised to tell me the truth.’
Sian frowned. ‘If we talk, can I call your mum after, to come and get you?’
Ana shook her head vigorously. She took another drink of wine but looked ridiculously young. ‘You promised to tell me the truth,’ she said again.
‘I did,’ Sian said. ‘And I will.’ She had a big gulp from her own drink, then put it down on the coffee table. She rolled her eyes. ‘Brace yourself, because this isn’t a happily-ever-after story.’
Sian explained what she knew. Of course, Ana had heard about Bennett. She hadn’t realised her own mother had been on his show, that she’d been one of his many victims, even if Nikki didn’t like that word as a description of what had happened to her. Ana’s eyes widened, and at moments she looked like she might cry, although she didn’t. Sian paused, then told her that there were other siblings.
‘Will you put me in touch? Give me their names?’ Ana sounded uncharacteristically excited at this point, despite her clear upset at the rest of the news.
Sian shook her head. ‘I can’t,’ she said. ‘But I can pass your details to them and leave it up to them, if you want.’
Ana nodded. ‘Please,’ she said. ‘I’d like to know who they are.’
