Read Conflicted Innocence Online
Authors: Netta Newbound
Conflicted Innocence (6 page)
Packing baby Joseph’s tiny clothing away proved much harder than I imagined it would. The sadness was intensified by the fact that he had clearly been the same size as Grace when he died, and that knowledge tore at my heart.
James began dismantling the cot after asking if I was okay about one thousand times. And I
was
okay, until I found the photo albums in the bottom drawer and then, for the second time that day, a pile of photographs had me bawling my eyes out.
The album started with two scan pictures. The first wasn’t very clear, just two round blobs, but the second showed the shape of a baby. You could see his face clearly—a button nose and cute kissy lips.
The next photos showed a heavily pregnant woman and, for the first time, I discovered what Lydia actually looked like. She wasn’t a raging beauty, but she was pretty with long straight, brown hair, a kind face and large, hazel eyes. She seemed so proud of her baby bump. I could relate to that.
Hospital photos of a scrawny little newborn lying on his exhausted mum’s naked chest. Lydia held her hand up to the camera as though protesting about being caught not looking her best. I remember a similar image of myself that I also hated.
Pages and pages of family photos followed—the three of them together or Joseph with one or the other of his parents. The images were placed in date order and Joseph grew bigger and healthier with every image. But Lydia was the opposite. Her face became gaunt with dark circles under her eyes. I found it just as tragic to see a record of Lydia’s decline as it was to get closer to the death of the gorgeous little tot with each turn of a page.
I had my back to James, and silent tears ran down my face. The photographs stopped suddenly and I gasped. In the final image of the beautiful little boy, he was laughing—his eyes twinkling and full of life.
James, suddenly beside me, pulled the album from my hands and placed it into the box.
“Oh, James, it’s so sad.”
“I know, sweetheart. I must admit, I beat myself up over his death for years. I mean, I heard that little boy’s cries night after night and I did very little to help.”
“Gosh, it’s hardly your fault. His own daddy didn’t see it coming. How could you?” I stroked his beautiful, stubbly face, and he kissed me lightly on the lips.
“Come on. Let’s get this finished, and then I’ll pour us both a brandy—I think we deserve one, don’t you?”
It didn’t take too much longer and, once we’d finished, the cot and changing station leaned up against the chest of drawers and were covered by a large sheet we found in the bedding box in Lee’s room. Several taped up boxes were stacked beside them.
“You’re a star, you know?” James said, nuzzling into my neck. “Not many women would care about making Lydia’s homecoming any easier. They’d want her to suffer as much as possible.”
“I don’t think that’s true. She’s obviously suffered, will be suffering till she takes her dying breath. Those photographs show how much she loved the little mite.”
He nodded. “Still, there are people around here who think nothing short of hanging is good enough for her.”
Lee stretched as he opened his eyes to the sun-filled room. Memories of last night came flooding back in an instant, and he slowly turned to see Susie, still sound asleep, curled beside him on the uncomfortable mattress.
He smiled at how sweet and childlike she looked lying there, as he eased himself out of bed, desperately needing to use the toilet.
In the bathroom he came to his senses. What the hell had he done? There was no way he could give her a job now, after this. Their night together had been amazing, but it was just sex—nothing more. He was a married man. She needed to be let down gently. But how?
He quietly let himself out the front door and called a few local hostels as he walked into the village. One of them had a vacancy and he paid for a week’s stay using his credit card.
Then, he took £300 out of the ATM, and grabbed a few things
from the shop before heading back.
Susie was in the kitchen
filling the kettle as he entered.
“Oh, hello,” he said, feeling awkward.
“Hi.”
She smiled as she approached him, her arms
outstretched.
He backed off,
shaking his head. “Susie, we need to talk.”
Her arms dropped to her sides
and the smile vanished.
“Look, last night...” He paused, shaking his head. “It
shouldn’t have happened. I’m married.”
Tears filled her eyes. “But, I thought...I thought—”
“I know. I really enjoyed your company over the past few days, and we got carried away. But even you must see that’s all it was. A very enjoyable mistake, but a mistake, nonetheless.” He reached for her hand and she shoved him away.
“You...you used me,” she said, rapidly shaking her head from side to side.
“Come on, love. It wasn’t like that. You came to me.”
“And now what?” she screamed.
“I’ve booked you into a hostel for a few days, and I got you some cash to keep you going.” He pulled the folded notes from his pocket and handed them to her. She snatched the cash, holding it up in front of him. “What? You’re gonna try to pay me off like some cheap hussy? Forget about all those promises you made to me? The job, the place to stay.”
“Shhhh,” he said, flapping both of his hands in front of her in an attempt to calm her down. But it was useless. “I’ll pay for the hostel until you get on your feet and find a job. I’ll even take you to buy a few new outfits and stuff.”
“I don’t want your fucking outfits. I want what you promised me—a job and a place to stay.”
“And I will still help you get a job, if I can.”
“I want the job you promised me. The one in your office.”
“That’s not going to happen, Susie. I’m sorry.”
“Well, then, you’d better get your cheque book out because this is going to fucking cost you.” She walked over to her pile of clothes and stuffed the cash into her coat pocket.
“Why are you being like this? I already told you I’ll help you, and there’s three hundred quid in cash there.”
“I already told you I don’t want your fucking help. And how much good is a poxy three hundred quid. I want one hundred thousand pounds.”
Lee almost choked. Once he’d composed himself he laughed. “I don’t have that kind of money, and even if I did I wouldn’t give it to you. It was one fucking night.”
“And you’re a married man!”
“So what? My wife’s been away for the past six years. I’m sure she’ll forgive one little dalliance.”
“But will she forgive you for screwing a fifteen-year old?”
He staggered backwards and steadied himself on the breakfast bar. “But you said...”
“I know what I said. Do you really think I’d have told you the truth?”
“I’ll tell everyone you lied. That you came on to me.”
“Nobody will believe you. Look at you—a desperate, lonely man whose wife has been away for years.” She suddenly batted her eyelids. “I trusted him, officer. He promised me he wasn’t like all the other men, officer. And when I was asleep in the bed upstairs, he snuck in and raped me.”
“You wouldn’t,” he said, shaking his head in denial.
“Yes! You raped me! RAPE! RAPE!” she screamed.
Lee pounced on her, pressing his hand across her mouth to try to shut her up.
She struggled. “RAPE!” her screams were more garbled but just as loud.
He wrestled her to the floor and straddled her, pressing his hands over her mouth with all his might until she stopped struggling.
Then, lifting his hands tentatively, he saw she wasn’t moving.
“Oh no. Oh, no, fuck!” he cried. Bending over her, he could feel her breath on his cheek. Not dead—just unconscious.
Moving quickly, he got to his feet and tried to lift her into his arms, but she was like a dead weight. Lifting her feet, he dragged her to the cellar door. After a brief struggle, he opened it and shoved her down the concrete steps. He heard her hit every surface before reaching the bottom with a sickening slap. Then he slammed the door shut again, locking it behind him.
Lee was beside himself.
He strode around the room in terror. How the fuck could he be so stupid? As if sleeping with a minor wasn’t bad enough, but then to assault her, throw her down a flight of stairs before imprisoning her in the cellar. He wouldn’t be able to talk his way out of this one.
He would get at least ten years, minimum, if this got out.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” he said, pacing backwards and forwards.
He didn’t know how much time passed while his thoughts were in a riot. He spotted Susie’s tobacco pouch on the kitchen workbench and he leapt on it, needing a cigarette more than anything. He gave up smoking almost ten years ago, but he’d smoke two together if he could, right now.
Out on the back step he tried to put things into perspective. But he couldn’t work out what the fuck he could do to make it right. He had to collect Lydia tomorrow. He roared as he threw the cigarette butt into the garden, and stuffed the pouch into his pocket.
He needed to talk some sense into Susie. She was, after all, trying to blackmail him so she wouldn’t be able to go to the police. Maybe, he could somehow record her saying how much she wanted and what she’d do if he didn’t pay up. At least it would give him some sort of leverage over her.
The cellar door creaked as he slowly opened it. “Susie, we need to sort this out before it gets too out of hand.”
Nothing.
He flicked the light on, and saw that she hadn’t moved a muscle.
“Susie?” She was out for the count.
If he could carry her back up the stairs and lie her in the same place they’d struggled, she wouldn’t need to know she’d been biffed down the cellar at all.
As he stepped into the cellar, he shuddered. The stone steps and flooring kept the temperature significantly lower than the rest of the cottage. That was the reason the previous owners used it as a wine cellar.
“Susie?” he whispered as he reached the bottom step.
Something didn’t look right, but he couldn’t work out what it was. He gasped as he took a closer look.
One of Susie’s arms had twisted behind her in an unnatural position, and her eyes were wide open, staring straight ahead.
At first, Lee couldn’t comprehend what this meant, and, the second it registered, he dropped to his knees shaking Susie’s dead body, pleading with the heavens to let her wake up.
After a few minutes, he tore himself away, pressing his hands over his mouth to stop himself being sick. He turned, scrambled up the steps and slammed the door on the monstrosity below.
With his back pressed firmly against the door, his phone rang and he vomited all over his shoes.
Tall Poppies, the bright and welcoming day care nursery, was better than I could have wished for. It was in a purpose-built building at the rear of a residential property that catered for just a small number of children.
Wendy, the staff member in charge of the babies, greeted us warmly, and had Grace eating out of her hand within minutes. After filling out and signing all the paperwork, she encouraged me to leave my daughter there for an hour or so.
Stepping out onto the street I felt lost. I’d expected Grace to at least play up a little, but she hadn’t even whimpered. The traitor.
I called James.
“Hey, babe,” he said.
The sound of his voice made my eyes well up.
“Hi, how are you? I just left Gracie at the nursery.”
“Already? I thought you were only meant to be checking it out today.”
“I was—I am. She’s just having a trial run, but I couldn’t believe how easily she let me leave.”
“Well, that’s a good thing, isn’t it?”
“Yes, I know it is, but it’s not normal, is it?”
His booming laughter filled my ear.
“Don’t laugh, you pig! I was hoping for a bit of sympathy.”
“She’s a good girl, and not clingy in the least, so she wouldn’t play up, would she?”
“But why isn’t she clingy? Is it because I’m a bad mother?”
More laughter.
“Oh, forget this. I’ll see you at home later.”
“No, babe. Babe. I’m sorry, alright?”
I shrugged moodily.
“You still there?”
“Yes, I’m still here, but one more snigger and I swear...”
“I promise, no more. I was about to call you anyway. Lee’s not answering his phone again.”
“So, does he need to?”
“Well, I was going to grab some stuff for the fridge, but I don’t know what Lydia likes.”
“If we just get the basics for now, she’ll want to do her own shopping once she gets home.”
“Yeah, you’re right.”
I’ll pop into the store now if you like? I need to confirm my shifts with Erica.”
“If you don’t mind. That would be great. The keys are in the fruit bowl on the table.”
*
Erica ran around the counter when I entered. “Here she is—my new assistant. Where’s the little one?”
“She’s at the nursery.”
“Already? Does that mean...?”
“It does. I’m free to start whenever you want me to.”
She clapped her hands together and grinned.
I smiled, feeling chuffed that someone wanted me, even if my own daughter couldn’t care less.
We sorted out my hours and I bought several items for Lee and Lydia. As I was leaving, I noticed a flower stand on the footpath. I picked up a bunch and ducked back inside. Erica waved me away as I got my purse out.
“You can have them as a
welcome aboard
gift.”
“Are you sure?” Not wanting to say they weren’t even for me.
"Positive. See you Thursday, Geraldine.”
I glanced at my watch. It had been thirty minutes since I left the nursery, so I figured I would have time to pop home and drop everything off instead of lugging the groceries around with me.
I placed the bags on Lee’s path and ran into our house to get the key. When I came back out, I caught the crazy man, Mad Thomas, sifting through the bags.
“Hey! I yelled, and ran towards him. “Leave them alone.”
He shook his grubby fist at me, as he backed off from the groceries. “Wasn’t me!” he said, gruffly.
“Bullshit! I saw you helping yourself. Get out of here before I call the police.”
He turned on his heel at the mention of the police and scurried home.
I picked up the bags and let myself into the neighbour’s house, surprised at how fierce I’d been, and proud of myself for standing up to the crazy old bastard. I did have a twinge of sympathy for him as he ran away, but he’d practically terrorised me since I arrived. Well, maybe terrorised was a bit strong, but still.
I put the groceries into the fridge and the fancy state-of-the-art pantry and found a vase in the cupboard under the sink. Then I arranged the flowers and after trying the vase on several surfaces, I settled on the dining table.
*
I found Grace sitting in the sandpit when I arrived back at the nursery.
“How’s she been?” I asked Wendy.
“Wonderful! Like she’s been coming here forever.”
Grace did her funny little bum shuffle when she saw me, and my stomach flipped.
“Mama,” she said.
I looked at Wendy who smiled.
“Did you hear that?” I said.
“I did. Is that the first time she’s said your name?”
“Yes! I’ve been trying to get her to say it for ages but nothing.”
I picked Grace up and swung her around. “You’re such a clever girl,” I crooned, thrilled that she’d actually been pleased to see me. I must be a good mum, after all.