Matilda Wren (25 page)

She could protect herself and her daughter from the hands of him. She could make sure that he could never hurt either of them again and in doing so she could bring him down; expose him for what he was; a vile revolting predator.

“I made you some milk. Why don’t you drink it up and I’ll read some of your book to you while you fall asleep?”

She handed the beaker of warm milk to the little girl, who snatched it up eagerly and jumped into bed; settling herself under her duvet and sucking at her cup, she waited for her mother to begin reading. Maisy gulped at hers.

It tasted normal. It was the sugar that masked the vast amount of sleeping pills that were dissolving away. She put her legs up and rested against the headboard of Katie’s bed.

She started to read the story, stopping intermittently to drink.

As the time wore on, the words begun to jump around the page; dissolving into one another. Rubbing her eyes didn’t help. They felt so heavy and her vision was getting increasingly blurry. She tried to turn her head to look at Katie but she couldn’t make it move. It wasn’t just her eyes and head that felt heavy, it was her whole body.

It felt like a tonne weight was on top of her. She wasn’t sure if she was still breathing. She couldn’t hear it or feel her chest move. Her eyes were forcing themselves shut. She didn’t fight it; she didn’t want to. When the delirium came, she welcomed it, greeting the hallucinations with a relish, knowing the reality she had been forced to bear was slipping away.

She saw herself as a child, playing on the swings in the garden with her sister; the image so real she tried to reach out and touch her younger self. As her fingers touched her own small hand, the image blurred into a vacuum of swirled colours eventually settling on two figures huddled in the corner of the room. The elation turned to a vehement fright, when it registered in her mind that the two figures were her and Sean.

Again she was a child, older than the girl on the swing, but still a child. She remembered the scene the delirium was creating; being huddled in the corner, her knees pressed so tight against her chest, her head buried on top. He was bent over her, his hands poring at her legs and over her back; his words telling her it wouldn’t hurt as much next time.

Maisy felt her body vault, mentally withdrawing from the recollection of what she was desperately trying to escape.

The walls of the bedroom rushed past her, turning into a ferocious sea of surplus illustrations; painting the pictures of her hopeless existence. Redundant memories, of laughter and smiles, mixed with uninvited depictions of degradation.

Katie’s angelic face a prominent and recurring image.

The small child standing in a blackness, screaming out in terror at her own hallucinations, until she felt the strong arms of her daddy picking her up. Even in her death, Maisy was subjected to his persistent presence.

Sounds of ice-cream vans and excited thrills, merged with his sinister tone of her name. He called it out every so often, reminding her he was there; that he would be to the end. The fused clatter rose with each wave of new and old images; swirling and flashing, grabbing out at her as they passed each one franticly trying to pull her into their world.

The delight she felt, as she let the darkness surround her, finally finding the peace and stillness that she wanted so badly. They were safe now; his toxicity no longer binding their existence.

Maureen found her daughter and granddaughter the next morning, lying side by side, static and motionless; their bodies cold and rigid. To look at, they were sleeping silently.

She heard the screaming but didn’t know it was coming from her. When her husband had come running into the room, she collapsed in his arms.

Mick Fergus lost his wife, his family and his world that day. The massive coronary she suffered, at the scene before her, took her away from the long exertion of her life. Her heart could take no more. For Mick, the rest of his days would be spent in a psychiatric clinic, staring out of a window, rocking too and forth, mumbling incoherent nothings.

Chapter 15

October 2006

Rachel had buried four people in a matter of weeks and one of them was a baby; she still couldn’t get over that. Katie was such a delight. How did they not see how deranged Maisy had become? The girl should have been seen by some kind of medical professional by now, she didn’t understand why not.

Maybe Maureen hadn’t seen it; being left to practically raise the child herself and getting on in years. It must have been hard for her. Rachel knew Sean had popped over when he could; he would come home telling her what his raving loony sister would be doing. She had laughed with him, at his stories of her sitting in the garden in the pouring rain in just her underwear, or when she had locked herself in the cupboard under the stairs and refused to come out; how Sean had to sit there for hours negotiating with her.

She knew he had done his best for her but he was a man and didn’t realise the severity of her situation anymore than anybody else did. They had to accept that nobody was aware of how ill Maisy was and that they all played a role in Katie’s death. As grim and ghastly as it was, the sooner they all admitted that to themselves the better.

Rachel felt apprehensive and troubled. Life wasn’t working out the way she thought it would. She thought her world would be complete when she met Sean again, but their idyllic life wasn’t turning out quite so idyllic. Were they being punished for trying to be happy? So many people had died, in such a short space of time. Were they cursed?

Maureen’s heart attack and Mick’s breakdown were just the latest. What was next? Rachel wondered. Having to bury Greg was bad enough. She didn’t realise she had so many tears. That day had gone by in a daze. She didn’t really remember much of the funeral. When the police had come to the bistro to tell her he was dead, she thought they were talking about someone else.

She didn’t know he had taken on an extra job. It made sense; he now had to pay for rent on his own and had still given her money each week for Adam. The police told her it was a burglary that had gone wrong. They assumed Greg had tried to stop a robbery and ended up being targeted by the gang.

The fire had destroyed all the CCTV equipment; there was no chance of ever having his killers brought to justice. It was all just so senseless. She couldn’t identify his body; there was nothing left to recognize, apart from a few personal possessions that hadn’t perished in the fire.

Just two solitary items to tell the world who he was; a signet ring that had hers and Adam’s date of births inscribed on the back and a watch that she had bought him as a Christmas present one year.

She had gone alone to Greg’s funeral, not thinking it was right to arrive with Sean. He had stayed away at her request and took Adam out for the day. Greg’s parents were pleased to see her and his father, Jimmy, held her hand all the way through the service. His family had all kindly paid her their respects, treating her like the grieving widow.

Rachel felt guilty at this. It was not a role she felt comfortable taking. As much as she grieved and hurt, she felt she didn’t deserve to be made as much a part of the family as she was.

She made her escape into the garden once they had all gone back to Greg’s parent’s house after the funeral. It had been raining and Pauline’s tiny, perfectly attended patio glistened in the sun that was determined to out shine the misery of the day. The small patch of green lawn shimmered, as each blade seemed to stand to attention underneath the warmth of the late summer sun.

Rachel thought about the many summer barbeques herself, Greg and Adam had spent in that garden and how Greg would chase Adam around the washing line, while Pauline fretted about there being no room for games like that and that Adam would get hurt. She smiled at the memories of laughter and burnt sausages. The hickory-smoke filled evenings of traditional family time.

It was her first experience, never having anything like that herself. Jimmy and Pauline had welcomed her and Adam into their fold and showed her what it should have been like. She would always be grateful for that, for the love they had shown her and Adam. For a brief moment she wished it was different; that she could love their son, the way he had loved her.

Footsteps interrupted her thoughts and she turned to see Greg’s brother standing behind her. Matthew was four years older than Greg but they looked like twins. It was uncanny.

When she had first seen him at the funeral, it had taken her a few moments to register it wasn’t Greg. Their eyes and jaw line were almost identical; a few creases around Matthew’s mouth were the only signs that gave away the difference.

He smiled at her but his eyes didn’t quite meet hers. He looked awkward. His hand reached out to her, offering her own jacket.

“I thought you might be cold. You have been out here a while now.”

Rachel shook her head. “I’m not cold. I was just remembering the summers out here…” Her voice trailed off, as the gripping pain tightened itself around her chest once more.

“You mean before you broke my brother’s heart and he was murdered.”

The words fell out of his mouth with a malice that shook Rachel to the core. She stared at him in disbelief. She wasn’t sure how to respond.

Matthew smiled at her again and Rachel realised this time that the first smile had been just as dry. He hadn’t come out to check on her, he had come out to have a go at her.

“Bit of a coincidence, don’t you think? Six months ago you and Greg were happy as Larry and then in walks your old gangster boyfriend. Within days, you’re shacked up with him and my brother’s dead.” Matthew stepped a little closer to Rachel, blocking her path back to the house. His six foot two frame obstructed her view of the patio doors, hindering anybody inside the conservatory to see the altercation taking place in the garden.

“I… I’m not sure what you’re trying to get at Matt. Sean and I have nothing to do with what happened to Greg. It was a robbery that went wrong.”

Matthew nodded. “That’s what the police said too.”

“Matt, what is this? I know you’re upset and angry but this isn’t my fault.” Rachel reasoned. She didn’t like the way he was looking at her. His face was screwed up into a disparaged sneer and his eyes told her he knew more than what he was saying.

“I told him not to go near you years ago, but he wouldn’t listen. I told him you were damaged goods, but he reckoned he could fix you. I don’t like things that are broken. They just aren’t the same afterwards.”

Rachel was astounded by Matthew’s sudden attack on her. There had never been any animosity between them before.

“Matt, I know you’re upset, we all are…” She tried to reason with him, but he just cut her off again.

“You have no idea just how upset I am.” He moved even closer to her. Rachel could smell the whisky that permeated from his breath. “It’s funny; you should have said you were up for taking on other men. I would have had a go. Greg said you could be a right go-er.”

“Get the fuck off me.” She spat out at him, pushing Matthew away from her as hard as she could. Her strength surprised him.

“There she is; the tramp with the sewer mouth. I knew she was in there somewhere.”

Rachel stared at him for a long moment. “What is wrong with you? This is Greg’s funeral.”

She went to walk round him but he caught her wrist as she passed, pulling her into his strong arms. To anybody that was watching from the inside, it looked like a comforting embrace between two grieving family members.

“Fergus had something to do with Greg’s murder. I know he did.”

Rachel struggled herself free of him. It took all her strength to do so and she had to step back a few paces to steady herself. She wouldn’t look at Matthew. She couldn’t meet his eye.

“There was a reason you ran from him in the first place.

You saw what I see now. I know you did.” Suddenly, the nastiness was gone from his face and it was replaced by an urgent and imperative need for her to agree.

Rachel slapped Matthew as hard as she could round his cheek. Snatching her jacket out of his hand, she walked back into the house, leaving him outside in the garden. She didn’t know or care if anybody had seen; she just needed to get out as soon as she could. She felt suffocated by the guilt and thoughts that were running through her mind.

She tried to push everything out of her head. As soon as she was back with Sean and Adam, her perspective would become clear again. Matthew had startled her and thrown her mind into chaos. Rachel left Jimmy and Pauline’s, almost immediately after. She wouldn’t allow her mind to fester any further, on the poison that Matthew had tried to inject.

* * *

Rachel reminded herself she loved Sean more thananything. She always had. He had been her rock. Even when he had received the phone call about Maisy, he hadn’t crumbled. He was strong, in mind and in soul. Rachel felt so comforted by it; that he could cope with anything that was thrown their way. It made her believe they would survive. He made them strong and he would protect her from anything.

Somewhere, out of all the recent tragedy, something good was going to come of it all. She was sure of it.