Читать книгу The Face Behind the Mask - Helen Phifer - Страница 15

Chapter Five

Annie strapped Alfie into his car seat, put his changing bag on the seat next to him and then got into the driver’s side. She loved this car more than words could say. She’d never thought another car would replace her beloved red convertible mini, but after writing it off in an accident that had left her in a coma for a couple of days last year she’d had no other choice.

Will spoilt her; there was no doubt about it and it was nice that he did. It was reassuring knowing that he had more than enough money in the bank to cover the household bills and take them on holidays without having to scrimp and scrape like she’d had to when she was married to Mike.

She could live with the occasional treat from Will because she made sure she never asked for anything, preferring to earn her own money to buy what she needed. She didn’t care if she wore Primark sunglasses or Dior; as long as they did the job it didn’t matter, although the one thing she wouldn’t compromise on was her perfume. It always had been and always would be Chanel.

Turning to check Alfie was okay before leaving, she smiled at him when he stretched his chubby hand out towards her. She blew him a kiss then turned back and drove away from her house. Since her niece, Matilda, had gone missing, she hadn’t really had any visitors from the other side, which had been nice. Having a baby had taken up so much of her time, though, that she’d hardly even noticed.

As much as she wanted to help them, it still scared her every single time one put in an appearance. She’d spent the first thirty-one years of her life oblivious to the fact that the spirit world existed. Then, after that fateful night when her now-dead husband had tried to kill her, she’d woken up in the hospital with a huge wound on the back of her head and a new-found skill as a psychic.

As she took the narrow twisting road towards the car ferry to Bowness, she wondered how Will was getting on and if his hangover had kicked in yet. Adele had seemed nice and, if she was happily married with kids, surely she wouldn’t be interested in Will. Still, Annie couldn’t help worrying. The seeds of self-doubt that Mike had planted inside her during their marriage had left her with very little confidence in herself.

She knew she was being stupid; yes, Will had had quite a reputation for womanising before they got together, but he’d changed. They’d been through so much and, now they had Alfie, he wouldn’t do anything stupid to risk jeopardising their marriage. She needed to stop worrying so much.

The ferry was quiet and before long she was loaded on to it and paying her money. As they reached the other side she drove off, relieved to be back on dry land. No matter how many times she used, it the thought of its sinking always lingered in her mind. Even though it was only early, Bowness was starting to get busy. The obligatory coach full of Japanese tourists had debarked at the pier for the Lake cruises.

Annie smiled to herself. Passing the coffee shop where Gustav – her favourite barista – worked, she wondered if she should park up and pay him a visit; but a car pulled into the last parking space and she decided that maybe she would stop on her way home instead.

Driving up the steep hill, she passed the police station – her police station – which was now up for sale. All the staff now started and finished at Kendal, which was a pain in the arse. Jake had moaned about it for months, blaming her for making him transfer here from Barrow. The church came into view and Annie let out a small whoop of delight to see a parking space right in front of it. High five to Jesus or God.

She pulled in, then got out, taking Alfie, who was now fast asleep, from his seat. She decided to carry him to the rectory because she couldn’t be bothered getting his pram out. She walked through the gorgeous garden, which was John’s pride and joy, to the front door and knocked on it as loud as she could. It was a big house and – once a copper always a copper – she hated wasting time knocking on doors while at work so would always hammer on them. Disappointed that there was no sound of footsteps on the parquet flooring inside, she felt her shoulders deflate. She should have phoned to see if he was in. Shit. As she turned to walk back to her car, a voice shouted across the small wall that bordered the church and the rectory.

‘Is that Annie Graham I see before me in the flesh? What a sight for my failing old eyes. It’s been far too long.’

With much more spring in his step than Annie had, he briskly walked across to the wall and jumped over it. Father John was in his late sixties, but he was fitter than most men half his age. He pulled her to him, careful not to squash Alfie, and hugged her as best he could. He placed a kiss on her cheek. She grinned.

‘You look younger every time I see you, John. Have you got a fountain of youth tucked away inside the baptism font?’

‘Ah, I wish. I would be a much richer man than I am now. A humble servant of God relies on his faith and a little help from cheap moisturising cream.’

Annie laughed.

‘So what you brings you here, or am I lucky enough to be having a social visit?’

He raised one eyebrow and she felt bad. She’d dragged him into too much stuff the last couple of years and not once had he berated her for it.

‘I’m looking for cake, if I’m being honest with you, and of course I wanted a hug from my very favourite priest in the world.’

***

John didn’t miss the fact that her eyes were searching out the corner of the churchyard behind him where they had buried the bones of one Betsy Baker; but he didn’t want to push her. She would open up and tell him what was bothering her in her own time.

‘Well, if that’s the case, come inside my house. I have a huge Victoria sponge cake that I’ve done my best to eat all on my own, but am failing miserably. Not to mention fresh coffee. Admit it, Annie Graham, you only came for the coffee.’

She pulled a face and he laughed.

‘Sorry, I can’t help it. You’re so adorable to tease and there aren’t many women around here that I get the chance to be myself with, if you know what I mean. The ladies of the flower arranging club are still as bad as ever. It gets a bit embarrassing listening to them fighting over me like I’m a piece of meat.’

‘You’re so awful. Sometimes I find it hard to believe you’re actually a priest. I often wonder if you just blagged your way into the priesthood.’

He clasped his hand to his heart, feigning a heart attack and pretended to stumble back. ‘Why don’t you just take my Bible, beat me around the head with it and be done with it?’

She laughed and his eyes lit up. There was nothing better than hearing this lovely, brave, amazing woman chuckle like a schoolgirl. His job was done; he could quit the fooling around now.

‘Come on, don’t you go telling that to the Bishop. I’ll buy your silence with a big slice of cream cake and a cappuccino.’

***

He led the way up the steps and she followed him. Alfie was still asleep and getting heavier by the minute. John opened the door and she walked inside. He pointed to the lounge.

‘Why don’t you go and lay your young man on the sofa and I’ll bring a tray through for us? We can be civilised for a change instead of slumming it at the kitchen table.’

‘Thank you, he’s getting so heavy you wouldn’t believe it.’

John disappeared into the kitchen and she flopped down onto the big, squashy sofa. Moving the cushions she formed a bed for Alfie and laid him down. John came in with a tray with two huge wedges of cake and she looked at him.

‘Did I ever tell you how much I love you?’

He chuckled. ‘Ah, you’re far too easily bought, and yes, I think you did mention that the last time I fed you.’

‘Good, because you need to know this stuff.’

John passed a plate to her and let her tuck into her cake. He asked her about Will and how the funeral had gone. She relayed Will’s antics to him and smiled to see him shaking his head with a grin on his face.

‘I kind of understand, though. He’s had to carry that guilt with him since the night it happened. As have you; you both have.’

‘I know. That’s why I couldn’t be too mad with him.’

‘Good, I’m glad you weren’t. Now then, enough of the small talk. I couldn’t help but notice you peering into a certain corner of the churchyard when we were talking outside. God forbid, but tell me is there something wrong at the cottage?’

‘Sorry, John, I didn’t come to upset you, but I did want to see you about something.’

‘I know you did. You’re very busy, what with your little prince there, but if something’s wrong I want to know so I can help you. I value your friendship far too much to turn my back on you when the going gets tough, so don’t worry about me.’

He grabbed hold of her hand and she squeezed his fingers.

‘There’s nothing obviously wrong that I know about. It’s more a case of feeling as if there is something not right.’

‘And you’re wondering about our terrible friend, Betsy?’

She nodded. ‘Just the thought of that horrible woman terrifies me. Alfie won’t settle in his own room. He’s started to wake up every night at a similar time, and I know babies do that – I’m not stupid – but it’s always cold in there, even with the heating on. I just wanted to check her grave hasn’t been disturbed and that nothing unusual has happened.’

‘It hasn’t, don’t you worry about that. I don’t even let them cut the grass by her with the lawnmower. I make sure they use the strimmer in that corner; believe me, I don’t want a run-in with her again. Once was enough for any of us.’

‘Well, I don’t know what it is then. I used to hear the laughter of the boys she killed before I had Alfie, but since he’s been here they haven’t been around. I don’t think that they would scare him either; they were good kids. There’s something else: I had a terrible dream about a white house with a blue door where something bad had happened, and the next night the exact house was on the local news because a body had been found inside of it.’

‘You’re a very gifted woman, not to mention a very tired new mother whose hormones are all over the place. I don’t think it’s anything to worry about. If it was her in your house then I think you would know about it. She didn’t like you being in there. She wouldn’t stand in the background and do nothing; that’s not her style. As for your dream, it was probably your sixth sense telling you about it, trying to forewarn you that Will was about to get involved in another murder. Is he involved?’

She nodded. ‘He will be, although he hasn’t said anything yet.’

‘Sometimes you have to switch it all off, which I think you have managed to do quite well since Alfie’s birth. It’s probably just bits and pieces sneaking in when you’re not looking.’

‘You’re right. I’m so sorry to have bothered you, John. I’m letting it all get to me when really I’m just knackered.’

‘You’re never a bother to me – well, that time you and Jake turned up with a plastic box with the bones of that awful Betsy Baker inside you were – but I’ve forgiven you for that one, just.’

They both laughed.

‘Ah yes, that was very bad.’

‘Come on, eat your cake and drink your coffee while you have five minutes’ peace. I want you to tell me all about what you’ve been up to since I last saw you.’

They began to chat and Annie felt as if a huge weight had been lifted off her shoulders. John would have known if that evil woman was back. She didn’t like any of them and wouldn’t leave him alone when he had been the one to inter what was left of her body in hallowed ground. She was being paranoid and overprotective of her son.

***

Stevie hadn’t been lying when he’d said the house they were clearing out was a shithole. It smelt so bad inside, even Dean had put a protective mask on, and he was normally hardcore when it came to stuff like this. Wally had a much weaker stomach and was sweating so bad he could smell himself through the mask.

The house was full of junk – nothing of any real value from what he could see. They hadn’t started on the bedrooms yet, but they’d almost cleared the downstairs. If he was lucky, he sometimes found pieces of jewellery that he could stash and take down the pawnshop. As long as Stevie wasn’t watching. He knew that Stevie did the same because how else did he afford the tidy, white BMW that he drove when he wasn’t in the works van?

He could hear Stevie muttering under his breath and he smiled. That bastard Jacko better pay him after this. They loaded the last boxes of ornaments and books into the back of the van and leant against it to take a breather. Wally lifted the mask away from his mouth, taking in gulps of fresh air. Stevie did the same and began inhaling fresh air as well.

‘Jesus, how can someone live like that? All those years of dust and filth. I mean, your flat’s a shithole, Wally, but at least it’s not that bad. Well, it wasn’t last time I was in there.’

‘Thanks, man, that’s nice of you to say. Mine doesn’t smell as bad as that; at least I hope not.’

‘No, you’re right – sorry. It’s not quite that bad. I reckon we deserve a bonus for this job, me and you, Wally lad. What do you think?’

‘Just being paid would be a decent start. That wanker hasn’t paid me for two weeks. I’m on the bones of my arse. That’s my last fiver I pulled out of my pocket.’

Stevie shook his head. ‘Tight sod he is. Don’t worry, I’ll tell him when we get back to pay you.’

He went around to the front of the van and pulled out two bottles of water, throwing one at Wally.

‘Here, drink this, then we can get the upstairs cleared. I’m telling you now, if we find a purse or money under the mattress, I’m not telling anyone. It’s between you and me and we’ll split it. Whoever lives here can’t have any visiting family or they’d have sorted through the stuff themselves. You know how greedy folks are when someone dies; Aunty Wilma, who they haven’t seen for ten years, was the best aunty anyone could ask for.’ He pretended to cry and Wally laughed.

‘Let’s hope Aunty Wilma was a secret millionaire then.’

Stevie nodded his head. ‘Yep. Come on, the quicker we do this, the quicker we can get out of here.’

He locked the van and headed back inside the rundown terraced house. Wally sighed, pulled his mask down and followed him. It was hard to concentrate when all he kept thinking about was the clown suit. The house they’d cleared where he’d found it had been full of circus memorabilia. The woman who lived there had been in the circus until it shut down. He’d read the articles in the scrapbook she’d kept on the sideboard, below the huge print of her hanging from a trapeze in the centre ring of a circus.

Wally would have liked to have brought the scrapbook and the print home with him to keep. They were nice, but he couldn’t stash them like he had the clown suit. He couldn’t afford to buy them and there was no way Jacko would have let him keep them. He sold everything on at the rundown auction house he owned. If he didn’t come up with the cash he owed him, he could ask him for the stuff as part payment. It would be nice to start a little collection of his own.