Conflicted Innocence (17 page)

He finished rolling his cigarette and licked the paper before tucking it behind his ear. Then, he looked at me questioningly.

“You—you remember baby Joseph, don’t you?”

He cocked his head to one side as though thinking.

“Joey,” I said. “Baby Joey.”

A dark and hooded expression clouded his face.

“Not guildy.” He nodded. “Not guildy.”

“Do you know something, Thomas? Do you know what happened that day?”

He nodded his head furiously, and I began to regret coming alone once again.

“Can—can you tell me what happened?”

He stood and I flinched back in my chair, terrified what he had in mind. Then he spun on the spot and headed out the back door, beckoning for me to follow at the last second.

I paused. Maybe it would be best if I scarpered now while I still had the chance. But the need to know what happened to Lydia’s tiny tot spurred me on. I stepped out into the overgrown jungle, surprised once again to see a chair next to a small table, which had an overflowing ashtray in the middle of it.

Thomas lit his cigarette and nodded his head towards the back of our semi.

For the first time I realised the houses weren’t the same shape out the back. Thomas’ had an extension and from where I stood, at the back door, I was adjacent with the centre of our garden giving a perfect view of our houses.

I glanced at him for more information, and he pointed his cigarette towards Lydia’s house and what I knew to be Joseph’s bedroom.

“Did you see something that morning, Thomas?”

His lips tightened into a thin line and I thought he had decided to clam up until he nodded.

“Guildy.” He took a deep drag on his ciggie and I noticed his fingers were trembling.

“Thomas, did you see Candice bathing Joseph on the morning he drowned?” I asked softly.

“Guildy—guildy—guildy.” He nodded.

Horrified, I stared at the poor man and realised he must have been holding onto this secret for all these years, unable to make himself heard. No wonder he was driven slowly mad by it all.

For the second time in two days, the ramblings of a person suffering a mental illness had solved a crime.

I reached for his trembling hand and grasped his fingers in mine. “Thank you, Thomas. I
will
put this right. I promise.”

Tears filled the old man’s gentle blue eyes.

I raced from the place, not really thinking my next move through. I just wanted to confront Candice before Lydia and Lee got back.

“Oh, it’s you,” she said, as she answered my knock.

“Hi Candice. Can I come in?”

She shrugged her shoulder and stepped back to allow me to enter. “Lydia’s gone out.”

“I know. It’s you I want to see.”

She eyed me suspiciously and then led me through to the kitchen.

I was itching to blurt it all out and had to bite my tongue so as not to mess the whole thing up.

“Drink?” She nodded at the kettle.

“Not for me, thanks. May I?” I indicated the dining table.

“Yeah, take a pew.”

“I’m curious. Could you please go over the events of the morning Joseph died?”

“Why?”

“Like I said, I’m curious about something.”

“I got here and found Joey dead in the bath—end of.”

“So, how did you let yourself in?” I asked.

“The back door, it was always open, and Lydia didn’t like me knocking in case I woke Joey up.”

“And that morning, you let yourself in and came through to the hallway and up the stairs?”

She nodded, giving me a squinty-eyed glare.

“Were you on your phone?”

She shrugged. “Probably.”

“And you went upstairs and found baby Joey in the bath. Already dead?”

“I just told you I did, didn’t I?”

I raised my eyebrows and nodded. “Yes, you did. But some things just don’t add up.”

“What doesn’t add up? I don’t know—solve one fucking crime and suddenly you’re Nancy Drew.”

I smiled. “Getting a little hot under your collar there, aren’t you Candice?”

“Get out! You’re talking shit, and I don’t have time for it.”

“Fair enough. I’ll just ring Lydia and Lee and ask them to clarify a few things.”

“What fucking things?” she yelled.

“Well, for one. When Lydia told me what happened that day, she said she woke to the sound of the front door slamming and you running upstairs.”

“Yeah, I said that.”

“No. You said the back door. The front door only opens from inside if you haven’t got a key.”

“She—she must’ve been confused. It was the back door.”

“I don’t think so.”

She sneered at me and exhaled noisily. “So how the fuck did I get in then? You already said the front door was closed from inside.”

“I know. But you see, I’ve just had an interesting discussion with Mad Thomas.”

“So what?”

“He was in his garden having a smoke that morning,” I said, filling in the gaps with my own imagination. “And he saw who lifted Joey out of his cot and carried him through to the bath, and it wasn’t Lydia.”

She got to her feet with a start. “Bullshit! That old bastard’s doolally. Who’d believe a word out of his mouth?”

“I would, actually. You see, I think I know exactly what happened.”

“Go on, Nancy—enlighten me.”

“I think you arrived, just as you said you did. You entered and when you couldn’t find Lydia down here, you went upstairs and found Joey in his cot, his bath run and you decided to get him ready.”

“Bullshit.”

“Then what happened, Candice? Did your phone ring? One of the cool girls—you daren’t ignore it.”

She shook her head, her eyes brimming with tears.

“You stepped out, not meaning to be gone for long, just to take the call, but when you came back, Joey was dead.”

Tears had begun rolling down the younger woman’s face, and her mouth hung open like that of a stroke victim.

“Tell me. Be honest, it must’ve nearly killed you to keep it to yourself all this time.”

She shook her head, her mouth opening and closing as though the words just wouldn’t form.

I got to my feet and held my arms out for her and she rushed into them, sobbing into my chest.

“There, there. It’ll be alright. It was an accident—everyone will see that.”

She suddenly shoved me, causing me to lose my balance and topple over the chair I’d been sitting on.

“You can’t tell anyone!” she screamed at the top of her lungs. “You can’t! You can’t tell
anyone
.”

“Candice, of course I must. Lydia has the right to know she didn’t kill her baby. She’s innocent.”

“No! She was drunk—she ran the bath! I was just a kid—she should have been looking after us.”

“Okay, maybe she wasn’t totally innocent. But she didn’t put Joseph in the bath. You did that. And she’s torturing herself every single day.” I scrambled to my feet, wary of approaching her again, and took the phone from my jeans pocket.

“I’ll just call James—he’ll know what to do.” I hit the redial button and James answered on the first ring.

“Hi gorgeous, how did you get on?”

“Hey?”

“With the nursery. How did it go?”

“Fine, I’ll tell you later. Listen, I need you to come home right away. I discovered something about baby Joey.”

White hot pain suddenly came from nowhere and I found myself flying forwards, landing awkwardly on my arm. The phone skittered across the carpet.

Candice’s face swam into view just before the darkness took hold.

Chapter 31

Lydia chatted excitedly, all the way to the cottage. Lee just smiled and nodded, wanting to yell at her to ‘shut the fuck up,’ but he couldn’t. She’d suss him out immediately.

Yesterday, the doctor had dressed her arm and prescribed antibiotics as well as diazepam to calm her down whenever she felt she couldn’t cope. He knew she’d taken a dose before leaving home, and the change in her already was astonishing.

Upon arriving in the village, he stopped at the corner shop to grab a carton of milk. Lydia, buzzing with a newfound sense of freedom and confidence, insisted on going in with him. On the way out, they bumped into Chinese Eric.

“Hello. Long time, no see,” he said. It actually came out as ‘Hewwo. Wong time, no see’.

Lydia sniggered and covered her mouth.

“Oh, hi, Eric. This is Lydia, my wife.”

“I heard lot ‘bout you.” They shook hands. “You move in already?”

“No, in fact, we’ve decided not to bother. We are going to put the cottage on the market.”

“I heard ‘bout your friend—the girl—she die.”

Lee’s blood turned to ice. “She wasn’t my friend. I’ve never seen her before.”

“Oh, sorry. Made mistake. Thought she got in your car in rain.”

“Not my car, pal.” He bristled. “Oh, well, we’d best get on. Nice to see you again, Eric.”

“Penny for them,” he asked Lydia as they got back in the car.

“Just funny that he thought you knew that girl. You would tell me if there was anything...”

“Of course I would,” he cut in. “He’s mistaken. That’s all. Are you ready to see the cottage, or what?” He drove the few hundred metres along the road and pulled up outside.

“Is this the one?”

He nodded.

“It’s gorgeous. I always wanted a stone cottage.”

“I know. That’s why I bought it in the first place.”

She reached for his hand. “Are you still feeling weird?”

He gripped her fingers and nodded. “I know it’s stupid, but I don’t think I can do this.”

“You can. We can. And besides, the estate agent will be here in half an hour, and we need to air the cottage out before he gets here.”

They got out of the car, and Lydia took the keys from him and began fiddling with the front door lock.

“It’s a bit temperamental. You need to hang onto the handle and pull the door towards you as you turn the key.”

Lydia tried again and still couldn’t budge it so Lee took over. “There we go,” he said, as the door swung inwards.

She was like a kid in an amusement arcade, running from room to room, oohing and aahing.

Lee stayed at the front door, terrified to set even one foot inside.

“Mr Barnes?”

Lee almost shot out of his skin.

A man in a suit stood behind him holding a briefcase. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said. “I’m Peter Brand, from Brand New Homes.”

“Oh, hi. I didn’t see you pull up.”

Lydia ran down the stairs. “I’m sorry, Lee. I forgot to wait for you.” She beckoned for him to enter.

“Lydia, this is Peter, the estate agent.”

“Oh, hi. Come on in,” she said.

“Lydia will show you through, if that’s okay. If you need to know anything you can ask me afterwards.” He turned back to Lydia. “Sorry, Lyddie, I’ll wait in the car.”

With that, he took off before she had the chance to argue.

He couldn’t believe how affected he felt. His heart raced and stomach contracted. He wiped his sweaty hands on his trouser legs and climbed back behind the wheel.

Lydia and the suit were back out inside of ten minutes. Lee wound the window down.

“It’s a lovely property, Mr Barnes, but I was just telling your wife that it would benefit from the renovations being completed—you’d be able to ask for a premium price that way. As it stands, you will lose a substantial amount, but it’s still sellable. In fact, I know a number of investors that will snatch your arm off for the right price.”

“I don’t care. I just want it sold. You are aware of what happened in there, aren’t you?”

“Yes. Your wife filled me in. Investors won’t care as they’d probably just rent it out until the tittle-tattle dies down.”

“Get them through, then. As soon as, please. I’ll be glad to put this place far behind me.”

“Lee!” Lydia squealed.

“What?”

“I’d have thought we might want to discuss it first.”

“What’s to discuss? I can’t go in there, Lyddie. I’m sorry, but the sooner it’s sold, the better.”

They followed the agent to a café in the next village where they filled out all the paperwork and handed him a key.

Lee felt as though a weight had been lifted—he didn’t intend to set foot in the cottage ever again.

“Fancy a slap-up lunch before we head home?” He asked once they’d waved off the agent.

“I suppose so, since we’re here.” She glanced around at the deserted cafe. “I just wish we could’ve got the cottage finished. I would have loved getting stuck into that painting after all you’ve done already.”

“I just can’t, Lyddie. I just can’t.”

“Come on, then. I’m having a huge fry-up and you’re paying.” She picked up the menu and peeked at him over the top. “I do understand. Don’t worry.” She held out her hand.

He took her hand in his and lifted it to his mouth. “I’m lucky to have you, Lyddie.”

Lee ordered liver and onions, Lydia the all-day breakfast, and they were both stuffed to the brim when they left the café.

“Fancy stretching your legs for a few minutes?” he asked. “There’s a river behind these shops.”

“Sounds idyllic. Now I’ve finally broken my agoraphobia, I really don’t want to go home yet.”

He held his arm out, and she linked her hand through it. “Then we will stay out until the wee hours, if that’s what you want.”