Devil in Disguise (31 page)

‘I have
to go. It’s not fair on Joey,’ said Molly. ‘I’m sorry. I appreciate everything
you’ve done, I really do. But I know what I want.’

‘Very
well. I shall return your phone to you first thing in the morning.’ Lilia stood
up and walked silently out of the room, Heathcliff at her heels.

Molly
was surprised to find tears rolling down her cheeks. In her heart, she did not
want to leave. Lilia had taken over responsibility for her life and, bizarre as
the last month had been, she felt as if she was heading towards a future of
some kind. Lilia had faith in her, she had a plan. To walk away now meant she
would never fulfil Lilia’s dream. True, she felt hungry all the time and was
heartily sick of the cigarettes and brandy, but the results were plain to see.
She was getting thinner every day and she loved her new kook. She was suffering
for her art and felt the pay-off was within reach. Her voice was, indeed,
sounding grittier and lived-in — far more distinctive than the musical-theatre
trill she’d had a few weeks before. With her slim figure, husky voice and
dramatic straight hair, she was becoming a new woman. For the first time in her
life she felt exotic and rather beautiful.

But go
she must. The supreme effort that poor, defenceless Joey had made to tell her
to ‘go away’ rang in her ears. She respected him. She could not go against his
wishes. She would not be a cuckoo in Joey’s nest.

Molly
went to her room and packed her things. The atmosphere in the bungalow was
sombre, so she kept to her room and went to bed early.

It was four in the morning
when Molly was awoken by terrible screaming. She leapt out of bed and stumbled
down the corridor into Lilia’s room where she found her in bed, reaching over
her husband. ‘Joey! Joey! My Joey!’ she cried, then wailed some more.

‘What
is it, Lilia?’ asked Molly, rushing to her side. Joey was still in bed, lying
on his back as usual, and Lilia was in her blue-flowered nightie on top of the
covers beside him.

Lilia
stared up at her with wild, frightened eyes. ‘I don’t know, but look at my
darling!’

Molly
rushed to Joey’s side of the bed and looked at him properly. He was deathly
white, his mouth and eyes wide open, his tongue lolling out to one side. Molly
felt his cheek. It was barely warm. ‘Quick,’ she said. ‘I’ll give him the kiss
of life. You call the ambulance.’

Lilia
seemed paralysed with distress and didn’t move.

‘Now,
Lilia!’

Whimpering
with distress, Lilia dragged herself away from Joey and left the room. A moment
later Molly heard her quavering voice on the phone in the hallway, giving the
details to the emergency services. Meanwhile, Molly struggled to recall
everything she was meant to do when attempting resuscitation. Check the airways
are clear! she thought. She tipped Joey’s head back, opened his mouth and put a
finger inside. It was clear, so she held his nose, took a deep breath and
lowered her mouth to his. She exhaled as hard as she could three times, willing
her own warm breath to fill the old man’s lungs and bring him back to life. She
pulled away, counting to ten and watching anxiously to see if his chest would
rise. ‘Come on, Joey, two, come on! Three!’ she said urgently. ‘Four … five …’

Lilia
returned to the bedroom and stood shivering, her hands covering her mouth to
stifle her cries. ‘Oh, no,’ she repeated. ‘Oh, no, no, no!’

‘Is the
ambulance on its way?’ asked Molly, not looking up from her task. She bent down
to breathe into Joey’s mouth again. Still there was no response.

‘Yes,’
said Lilia. ‘Please help him — please don’t let him die.’

‘He’s
not breathing. I’ll have to try pumping his chest.’ She put her two hands
crossed on his chest and pressed down. Then she went back to force another
breath into his lungs. She was at the limit of her knowledge of artificial
respiration now. Breathe in, watch for the chest to rise; if it doesn’t, push
down to expel the air, and keep going. In her heart she knew it was hopeless.
With no warmth or response in the body, there was only one outcome.

Lilia
let out another cry and turned away, the sight of Joey’s lifeless body too much
to bear.

Molly
kept on with the mouth-to-mouth, followed by the pumping down on his chest, but
after a few minutes more she stopped, panting. She felt something in her mouth
and tried to spit it out. Then she put her fingers in and pulled out several
coarse dark hairs that looked like Heathcliff’s.

‘Damn!
It’s no good, it’s not working!’ she said, her eyes filling with tears of
frustration. She turned to Lilia and said softly, ‘I’m so sorry, I’m afraid he
must have been dead for a while.’ She didn’t want to distress Lilia further by
telling her that Joey was already cool to the touch and beginning to stiffen. She
pulled the sheet over him because she couldn’t bear to kook at his gaping, open
mouth, then turned to Lilia, who fell heaving with dry sobs into her arms.
Molly cried gently, her heart aching for poor Lilia, whose sobs soon turned to
the high-pitched monkey-like screams of primeval distress. An ambulance siren,
like a silverback gorilla wailing in response, sounded in the distance.

Molly
pulled away from Lilia and led her out of the bedroom into the lounge. ‘Come in
here, love,’ she said. ‘Sit down and I’ll deal with everything.’

A few
moments later, the siren was right outside the house and the blue emergency
light, showing purple through the cerise curtains, flashed round the walls.
Molly gave Lilia a final squeeze and left her still whooping with grief on the
sofa while she opened the door to the paramedics.

Two men
dressed in green stood there, both holding medical-equipment bags and wearing
serious expressions.

‘Miss
Lilia Delvard?’ said the younger one, urgently. ‘Ambulance service.’ He was
about thirty with dark hair and looked like a librarian. His colleague was in
his fifties, with a ruddy complexion and a sombre demeanour.

Molly
threw open the door and led the way to the bedroom, talking rapidly as she
went. ‘No, I’m Molly, a family friend. I’ve sat Lilia in the lounge, but come
in here. This is where Joey is. It must have been a heart-attack, I think.’ She
stood in the bedroom doorway and let them rush past her, wrapping her arms
round herself for comfort.

The
paramedics immediately removed the sheet from Joey’s face. The younger one
lifted his pale, thin arm and tried to take his pulse while his older companion
pressed his fingers to Joey’s neck. They glanced at each other and stopped,
withdrawing their hands simultaneously.

‘He’s
dead, isn’t he?’ said Molly, needing to hear it confirmed by professionals.

‘Yes,
he is, I’m afraid,’ said the man holding Joey’s wrist. ‘I need to speak to the
gentleman’s wife. Could you take me to her, please?’

Meanwhile
the older paramedic stood up, turned away from Molly and began to speak into
his radio. From what Molly could make out, he was requesting that the police
attend.

A
crackling reply came back, but Molly heard no more as she led the first
ambulance man in to see Lilia in the lounge.

The old
lady was sitting quietly now, her face buried in her hands, as if she was
trying to keep the screams inside, just the occasional squeak escaping, as she
juddered up and down with pain.

‘Lilia,
my name is Steve.’ He squatted in front of her and put a hand on her arm. ‘You
won’t mind if I just see that you’re all right, will you? Only you’ve had a
nasty shock.’

Lilia
lifted her head and revealed two dry but bloodshot eyes. She peered at Steve,
sniffing. ‘This dry eye is agony,’ she said. ‘I want to cry but I can’t.’ She
clutched at Molly’s hand and said, with surprising calm, considering that only
moments ago she’d been howling like a banshee, ‘He’s gone, hasn’t he? Expired
in the night, like a hibiscus.’

‘My
colleague is just seeing to your husband. I’m going to check you over and see
that you’re all right. Can you tell me how old you are?’

‘Really,’
said Lilia, crossly. ‘I may be a widow but that doesn’t mean you can molest
me.’ Heathcliff, sitting at Lilia’s feet, growled menacingly at him.

‘All
right, love. Are you on any medication at the moment?’ asked Steve, giving the
dog a wary look.

‘Leave
me alone, I’m fine,’ said Lilia.

Molly
moved to Lilia’s side and put a protective arm round her. ‘It’s all right, pet,
he’s just worried about you.’

Just
then they heard a police siren, and a car pulled up outside the bungalow.

‘I’ll
go and let them in,’ said Steve. Voices spoke in the hallway, then moved
briefly into the bedroom. Lilia buried her face in Molly’s shoulder, sighing
and moaning. There was a light knock on the lounge door. A remarkably short
policewoman came in and introduced herself as Gail Jones. She spoke softly and
kindly in a Welsh accent, and had her notebook at the ready. She had clearly
been briefed by Steve and addressed her questions to Molly. She wrote down both
their names and asked who had discovered Joey.

‘I
heard Lilia’s screams about half an hour ago,’ said Molly. ‘I went to the room
and tried, you know, to revive him, but it was no good.’

‘If I
could hear it from Miss Delvard, then, please,’ replied Gail. She turned to
Lilia. ‘When did you discover your husband’s condition?’

Lilia
began to sob again.

‘I’m
sorry, but I have to ask.’

‘I
sleep very lightly, and my dog, Heathcliff, was having a very restless night.
Anyway, at some point I put my arm round Joey —as it is every wife’s right to
do, I believe? — and became aware that his chest was not moving up and down. I
have no medical training but something told me this was not right. I turned on
the light and then I saw him.’

‘What
did you see?’ asked Gail, determined to get the facts down on paper.

‘Well,
it wasn’t Gary Barlow, I know that much. It was my husband and he was dead.’

‘What
time was this?’

‘You’ll
be wanting the shipping forecast next. I don’t know. It didn’t seem appropriate
to call the speaking clock. I was busy screaming.’

‘I
heard Lilia screaming at four o’clock,’ offered Molly.

‘Had
Joey been unwell?’ asked the policewoman.

‘He had
a severe stroke several years ago and was unable to move or communicate. He was
very fragile.’

‘I
see.’ Gail wrote all this down. ‘And what position was he in when you found
him?’

‘He was
on the bed on his back,’ said Molly.

‘Thank
you both for your co-operation,’ said Gail, when she’d finished writing. She
snapped her notebook closed. ‘Let me explain to you what will happen now. A
doctor needs to certify the death. If he’s happy that it’s a natural death,
you’ll be able to call the undertaker and arrange for the body to be removed.
If the doctor can’t establish the cause of death or has any concerns, we’ll
have to have Joey taken to the hospital for a post-mortem examination.’ She
asked if there were any friends or relatives they could go and stay with.

‘We
shall stay here,’ said Lilia, determinedly. ‘This is where we belong.’ She gave
the policewoman a fierce look. ‘Do you think someone could make me a cup of
tea?’

Molly
jumped up immediately. ‘Good idea … I’ll make a pot for all of us. I think I
need a cigarette as well. Would you stay with Lilia while I’m gone?’ she asked
Gail.

‘Of
course,’ said the WPC, leaning down to stroke Heathcliff, who was rubbing his
back against her legs affectionately. ‘So you’re Heathcliff, are you?’

‘He
seems to like you,’ said Lilia.

‘Well,
well, you’re a fine fella, aren’t you?’ Heathcliff looked lovingly up at her as
she patted his shoulder.

‘He
likes a woman in uniform,’ said Lilia, smiling proudly at Heathcliff — just as
he rolled over on to his back and revealed a huge, throbbing erection.

WPC
Jones withdrew her hand sharply and took a step back. ‘Jesus Christ! What the
hell is that?’ she said, her Welsh lilt accentuated.