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Chapter 22

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KATHY WAS ADAMANT. ‘You go and do what you came to do,’ she told Tom. ‘I need some time alone in the church.’

‘Are you sure?’ Tom didn’t like to leave her there in the big London church alone. He knew how, within the hour, her mother would arrive. Soon after that, her sister would receive the blessings before being laid to rest. ‘I can always tend to my business afterwards.’

‘No.’ Reaching up, she kissed him firmly on the mouth, ‘I’ll be fine. I just need to be alone for a while. Come back as soon as you can, and don’t worry about me.’

‘I don’t like to leave you …’

‘Go!’ She gave him a friendly shove. ‘Like I said, I’ll be all right.’

Before hurrying away, he told her he would be back in no time. ‘So don’t think you’re getting rid of me that easily!’

Inspector Lawson had agreed to meet him nearby at his request. ‘I’ve done everything you said,’ he told Tom when they were seated in the pub. ‘I’ve been in touch with the case-officers in Dorset … they can’t tell me anything I didn’t already now. I’ve sifted through all your brother’s belongings, and I’ve scoured his diary. But there is no mention anywhere of either Kathy or her sister, Samantha.’

Tom’s heart rose with hope. ‘So, Kathy’s sister’s death was an accident?’ It would have been so hard for him to tell Kathy that his own brother was Samantha’s killer.

The inspector shook his head. ‘No, Tom! That’s not what I’m saying. What I am saying is that we have no evidence to show he even knew Kathy or her sister. The last entry in his diary was made two days before she died. So, we can’t say it was him, and we can’t say it wasn’t.’

Tom thought about all of that before asking the question, ‘What do you think?’ Leaning forward, he looked the other man in the eye. ‘Was Samantha’s death a straightforward accident?’

The inspector thrust out his hands in a gesture of helplessness. ‘Who knows? The post-mortem was inconclusive. They couldn’t find hard evidence of foul play, apparently. But, whatever the truth, and for what it’s worth, I don’t think it was your brother who did it.’

Somewhat relieved, Tom thanked the inspector. ‘I’d like to think it wasn’t Dougie,’ he murmured. ‘When he gets where he’s going, he’ll have more than enough to explain to the Almighty.’

‘Considering everything … it was good of you to see he got a decent burial, even if you weren’t there to see it.’

Tom’s features darkened with loathing. ‘I didn’t do it for him,’ he said gratingly. ‘I did it because there was no one else. I can never forgive him for what he did. But I’ve done my duty, and, as far as I’m concerned, that’s an end to it.’

‘I wish you well, Tom. You must put it all behind you now.’

‘I know.’

‘If I hear anything, I’ll let you know.’

They shook hands and Tom left.

Outside, he hailed a cab, and went to meet Kathy at the church.

When he arrived, she was kneeling in a pew at the back of the church, head bent and eyes closed. She didn’t hear him until he was right beside her. ‘Are you all right, darling?’

She nodded, but didn’t reply.

Tom gave her a comforting hug, before going to the altar where the candle Kathy had lit was already burning. Quiet as a mouse, he lit four candles beside it: one for each of his children, one for his wife, and one for Kathy’s sister.

He then lit a fifth candle which he distanced from the others. As he put the light to it, he muttered harshly, ‘This one is for those poor, tortured souls who’ve lost their way.’ At the back of his mind was his own brother, Dougie.

In moments of flashbacks he could see them as children, playing and laughing; as he thought of it all, the tears rimmed his eyes.

Angry, he wiped them away and returned to Kathy, who had seen it all, and was made to wonder.

A moment later, they came, one after the other, side by side, her mother and Richard, friends, colleagues; all come to pray for Samantha’s soul.

They went to the front of the church and didn’t see the two at the back.

With Tom beside her, Kathy watched them come in. She saw the four sombre-suited bearers bring Samantha to the altar; a long white, beautiful coffin atop a golden trestle; it was Samantha’s style, she thought. It made her smile … made her sad. This was her sister, her beautiful, headstrong sister. And she was no more. No more!

Holding Tom’s hand, she heard the service, and then they left.

Outside, she held onto Tom, and he kept her safe, until she broke away at a run, fleeing down the path and into the road, where the taxi was still waiting.

Tom followed her.

As they moved away they saw them come out, heads bowed, eyes moist, filing behind Samantha, as they did in life.

It was as it should be.

Later that evening, when the patients of the mental home gathered for their evening meal, Lilian sat sullen and unresponsive at the far end of the table.

The nurse came to speak with her. ‘Aren’t you hungry, my dear?’ Soft-spoken and portly, she was a pleasant lady of middle years.

Lilian pushed her hotpot away.

The nurse pushed it gently back. ‘Just eat as much as you can,’ she urged. ‘You ate nothing at all yesterday. You can’t go on like that. Remember, you’ve a baby growing inside you. It needs its nourishment.’

Lashing out, Lilian sent the hot stew all over her. When the nurse reeled backwards, her arm scalded and calling out for help, Lilian came after her. There was murder in her eyes. ‘I don’t want your food!’ she screeched. ‘I don’t want this baby!’

Terrifying everyone there, she grabbed a knife from the table. ‘SEE!’ Slicing the blade across her stomach, she began tearing her clothes. ‘I’ll kill it,’ she cried. ‘You can’t stop me! You can’t make me have it!’

At the nurse’s shouts, the helpers came from nowhere, holding Lilian down, trying to calm her.

One minute she was like a crazy thing – kicking out, spitting and snarling; in the next she was like a child – cowering and whimpering. ‘It was me. I did it!’ Snatching off her shoe, she held it high in the air, laughing through her tears as she brought it down again and again on the floor, the sound echoing through the room with a sickening thud. ‘I pushed her … shoved her in the water.’ Her eyes grew wide with wonder before she began laughing … mad, abandoned laughter. ‘I pushed her … she fell in … it was funny.’

Her laughter was insane. ‘I can do it to this baby as well … you can’t stop me!’ She punched her stomach so hard with the shoe that she actually cried out in pain.

When they tried to stand her up, she fought like a wild thing.

After a while, when she was quietly crying, they took her to the rest room, where she would be shut in for a time, until she had reflected on her behaviour.

When they locked the door on her, she could be heard shouting, ‘The water killed her. It wasn’t me!’

One nurse looked to the other. ‘Mad as a hatter!’ she said.

‘Talking gibberish!’ said the other.

But Lilian knew what she had done.

She could see it all in her head … the darkness, the rain, and Kathy all alone, walking in the dark. ‘That woman had no right to him!’ she yelled. ‘He’s mine! He’ll always be mine! I don’t want this baby!’ Her screams could be heard well into the night.

Until at last she fell asleep.

Even in her vivid dreams, she knew what she had done.

But she was not sorry. Given the chance she would do it again.

Classic Bestsellers from Josephine Cox: Bumper Collection

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