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Authors: Gayle Eileen Curtis

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BOOK: Memory Scents
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              She needed to go back and start letting the neighbours know she’d left Tim. That living with an alcoholic had become so unbearable. It would give her a good alibi, when his twisted, broken body was found at the bottom of their stairs. A lonely alcoholic whose wife had left him, being unable to cope, he’d drunk himself into a stupor and lost his balance on the stairs.

              Everyone would understand her leaving him as no one liked him much anyway; they were just too polite to say. His drinking hadn’t gone unnoticed in the village either. It was all a perfect build up for there to be no suspicion about his death.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER SIXTEEN                                                            

 

Dear Mother,

 

              I don’t understand your reasons for refusing to see me, but I must respect your decision. I am writing to you because I have no other way of communicating and I am desperate to reach you.

              I want you to know how much I love you. Our relationship hasn’t always been easy, I know that. But you are the closest person to me. You know me better than anyone and you understand me more than anyone ever has.

              I want you to remember, Mother, that we are one and the same. I am merely a male version of you. Please know that whatever I do, I do it because of my love for you.

              I can’t live with the knowledge you hate me. Please, Mother.

 

 

Your ever
loving son

 

Tim

 

              Grace gripped the kitchen table, turning her fingers white she was so filled with rage at the news that had just been relayed to her. David Croxton, the family liaison officer, poured her a glass of water, reading her response as upset and shock.

              The atmosphere in Eve’s kitchen was solemn. David Croxton and his colleague PC Ian Walsh stared at the floor. Here they were again, delivering this poor woman and her family yet more bad news, and they felt desperately sorry for her.

              “Is there anyone we can call for you?” David said to Grace, as she loosened her grip on the table and fell rather than sat on one of the kitchen chairs.

              “No. Yes, actually. Yes. But I’ll do it. I have a friend who will come over. Are you sure they searched the whole area?”

              “They’ve been searching for more than two days, Grace. The weather is too bad to continue. It’s extremely unlikely…under the circumstances…”

              Grace nodded and put her hand up to stop the policeman talking.

              “I’d like to be left alone please.”

              Grace needed to think, and sympathetic faces were of no help to her whatsoever.

              “We’ll be in touch if there’s any further news. In the meantime you know the number to call if you need anything.” He hesitated. “We will have to come and ask you some questions, Grace, when you’re feeling up to it.”

              David gently pushed the leaflets about bereavement counselling across the table towards Grace.

              “Oh, piss off!” was what she wanted to say to the two officers, but she managed to keep it to herself.

              After the door closed behind them, Grace took in the feeling which was always left by having uniformed people in the house. Even when they weren’t delivering bad news, a feeling of anticipation was always left behind. That was probably what made them good police officers.

              Grace got up from the table and phoned Chrissie, asking her to come over. Chrissie had been waiting patiently since the weekend for any news. Grace hadn’t wanted her to come over until she knew anything. She’d wanted the time on her own to think about the fact that Tim might be dead.

              It wasn’t the news he was dead that had upset her when the officers had arrived. It was the sickening letter to his mother they’d found left on Grace’s kitchen table at home. Coupled with the fact that it appeared to be a suicide note and the bastard had got there before Grace did.

              She, like him, didn’t like people being one step ahead of her. She couldn’t think properly, she needed to air it.

              Chrissie burst through the door within minutes of the phone call.

              “Have they found him?”

              “No, they’ve called off the search. They say the weather is too bad. They don’t think there’s any possibility of finding him alive now.”

              “Are you ok?” Chrissie walked over to Grace and put her arms around her.

“Silly question. Of course you’re not ok. Can I do anything?”

              Grace picked up the alleged suicide note and handed it to Chrissie. She waited while her friend read it silently behind her. Chrissie slumped into one of the kitchen chairs.

              “Bloody hell,” was all Chrissie could manage.

              “I know. What a bastard, hey? The police want to know if I knew of any reason why he might want to kill himself.”

              “Did you have any idea he was building up to this?”

              “No. I might have if I hadn’t had Eve to think about. But even then I’m not sure. This just isn’t Tim. He wouldn’t kill himself; he regarded himself too highly to do anything like that.”

              Chrissie held Grace’s limp hand which was laid on the table. She stared at her as if seeing her for the first time since she’d walked in. Both arms were resting on the table with her palms supine. She looked like she was meditating.

              A smile crept onto Grace’s mouth. Chrissie thought she was going to start crying and as she rushed to get a tissue out of her pocket, Grace began to laugh.

              “Grace?!”

              “Oh, come on, Chrissie! He saved us a job. The bastard’s dead!”

              “Even so.” Chrissie looked around, at who she didn’t know, just in case someone heard their conversation.

              “Just before I called you, I’d got myself all caught up in the fact I hadn’t been the one who’d killed him. That he’d got there first and taken that away from us all as well. I was so angry. But it just dawned on me that it doesn’t matter. The point is, we’re all free, and he can’t hurt anyone else. I’ve just been lowering myself to his standards, by plotting to kill him.”

              “Well, I wouldn’t go that far.” Chrissie frowned, unable to think of Grace as being on the same level as Tim.

              “The point is, Chrissie. He’s gone. Dead. It doesn’t matter if he killed himself or if it was an accident. The bastard’s dead!”

              The word “dead” appeared to be highly amusing and Grace started laughing all over again, which infected Chrissie with the same fit of giggles. Their laughter filled the room, something the house hadn’t been used to for a very long time. It seeped into every room, including Alice’s, as if someone had spray painted it with light.

              “I think I’m going to like it here!” Chrissie managed to say through the laughter. This caused a new fit of the giggles and they continued until they were both wiping their streaming eyes. But the laughter was soon followed by tears. It overwhelmed Grace and the enormity of it all hit her.

              “I should have told the police when I first knew shouldn’t I?”

              “Why do you think that?” Chrissie was shocked at the change of emotions.

              “Because I’ve deprived those families of having a choice. They might have wanted him to go to prison. Now they might never know who killed their children.”

              Chrissie banged her hand on the table, making Grace flinch in her seat.

              “That’s enough! You are not responsible for this and what would it have achieved in the long run? We went over all this at the weekend and we agreed that a protected life in prison was not what he deserved. It was taken out of your hands, thankfully, and it’s over.”

              “I know.”

              “Look forward, Grace, not back. Concentrate on you for a change. Eve’s coming home soon and she needs you to help her get through all this.” Chrissie got up to give her a hug.

              “I know you’re right. But what I don’t want to happen is for Tim to be made into a hero because he died at sea in a tragic accident.”

              “How is that ever going to happen?” Chrissie asked bewilderment plastered all over her face.

              “You’re forgetting that it’s only you and me who know about Tim. You know what people are like when someone dies, especially in a village.”

              “I’m confused. You told me that no one liked him.”

              “They don’t. But people’s views of someone can change completely when that person dies. Even if they think he committed suicide, they’ll make up some tragic story about him.”

              “So, what are you trying to say? Are you going to tell the police what he’s done?”

              “I might not need to. Apparently, they paid him a visit before he went on his fishing trip with Dennis. They asked him a few questions about the disappearance of Alice. They told him that it was ok to go on his fishing trip, but he wasn’t to leave the country and they’d be back on Monday with a search warrant.”

              “Bloody hell, Grace! But you’ll get into trouble for not telling them! Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

              “Because I’ve been getting it straight in my own head. All of it.”

              “I know, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. But this is huge. Do you think they’ve found something from Alice’s remains?”

              “I don’t know. They won’t tell me anything like that. This is why I’m starting to wonder if he did actually commit suicide. That would be typical of Tim. He’d definitely kill himself rather than face the consequences.”

              “Oh Grace, what are you going to do?”

              “I don’t know yet. One thing I do know is that when they search the house and garden, they’re going to find all the boxes he kept. They’ll know straight away it was him.”

              “But you can’t tell them you knew. You’ll go to prison.”

              “Oh I’ve got no intention of telling them I knew about it. I’m not going to prison for that bastard. I’ll deny it all and tell them the marriage broke down years ago. I just hope his death was somewhere near the suffering he put his victims through.”

              “I doubt it. It’s most likely he drowned and that’s supposed to be the most painless and calm way to die. I can’t imagine wanting to kill myself…oh, Grace I’ve done it again!”

              Grace put her hand up to quieten her friend.

              “Stop worrying about what you’re saying. It’s fine. Most people can’t imagine doing it. I felt a bit like doing it when Nadine died and for quite some time afterwards.”

              “What changed?”
              “I couldn’t actually see myself physically doing it. I’m a bit of a coward deep down. And then the feeling started to fade away. Mainly because I found a friend I could talk to and trust.”

              Chrissie blushed. “You must have other friends in the village?”

              “I do. But no-one I’ve ever felt I can trust. It was difficult being a copper’s wife. There were certain expectations and complaining about him wasn’t one of them. I had better friends who lived away but no one close by. Meeting you felt almost like meeting Nadine again after all these years, you so remind me of her, of what she would have become. She’d be about your age now.”

              “Well, I feel very privileged to be your friend and you have been a great comfort to me, being new to the village.”

              They sat quietly for a few minutes sipping their cold cups of tea.

              “Do you have any idea what you’re going to do?”

              “No. Just sit tight for now and weather the storm.”

The irony of this comment brought on a fresh bout of laughter, even though the situation was far from funny.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

BOOK: Memory Scents
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