The Bones of You (19 page)

30

A
ngus has two weeks’ leave before he goes back to work—this time in London. Grace comes home for Easter and brings Ned with her. I start to ride Shilo. And as my happiness blooms with the earliest bluebells, for the first time I realize how fragile it is.

Just before the trial is due to begin, one of the papers runs a full-page story leaving no one in any doubt as to Neal’s guilt. According to their source, before Rosie died, she had a row with Neal, just as Alex said. Neal left the house in a drunken rage, blundered back in, still blind drunk, just before dawn, after luring his daughter into the woods, where he stabbed her.

Horrific though the truth is, it seems to give Jo the impetus to face her demons, and just a week later, she comes home.

“I’m taking her some food,” I tell Angus. “Because otherwise she won’t eat. And I promise I won’t be long.”

“Look, it’s okay, Kate. Take as long as you like. She really needs you at the moment. I understand.”

I walk over to where he’s sitting and lean down, brushing my lips against his. “And so do you. We have months to catch up on, remember?”

He grasps my arm and pulls me onto his lap, a gleam in his eye. “If we did the catching-up bit now, you could always see her later. . . .”

“Sorry.” I kiss him, then twist away. “She’s expecting me, I’m afraid. But definitely later . . .” I blow him another kiss.

Jo’s front door is open, which is unlike her, but as she tells me, she has nothing to hide. All she wants now is a fresh start.

“I’ve thought long and hard about this,” she says, “but I think it’s best if I sell the house, Kate. I’ve talked to Delphine about it. We agree.... Too much has happened here.”

“But can you do that? Before the trial’s over?”

“I’m seeing a lawyer. If I can’t sell, I’ll rent it out. Anyway, I need to think about money.” Taking a breath, a flicker of panic in her eyes.

“But where will you go?” Even though I understand that she can’t afford to stay here, my emotions are mixed.

She looks sad. “I don’t know. In a way, I don’t want to leave. Mostly because of you. It may sound strange, but you’re the only real friend I have. I’m thinking about Devon . . . nearer to Carol, because Delphine’s really fond of her. Or somewhere completely new. I haven’t decided.”

“Are you sure, Jo? Wouldn’t it be better to give it some time, feel stronger, before you make any important decisions?”

“That’s the problem,” she says softly. “I think that as long as I’m here, what’s happened will always be holding me back.” Then she smiles bravely. “Come and have some tea.”

As we sit in her kitchen, she tells me about the therapy she’s been having.

“I started to face up to a lot of things while I was in there, Kate. About my childhood. How it affected my marriage. My health, too. God, look at the state of me!” She says it self-deprecatingly, picking up the loose fabric of her clothes, under which she’s skin and bones. “Neal and I brought out the worst in each other. I do see that. I know how it must have looked from the outside, too, but if I’m honest, in a strange way we complemented each other. I wanted what he had to give. I wanted him, and there was a price. But there always is, isn’t there?”

Is she right? Is it impossible to have it all? Did Jo crave Neal’s love so much, she’d do anything, even suffer his abuse?

I’m reminded of how I felt when Zappa died.
Zappa’s life for my marriage
was what I’d thought. Jo’s doing what I did, mistakenly balancing emotional books. And she’s wrong.

 

“She’s planning to sell the house,” I tell Angus, watching the flames from the fire casting shadows on the walls.

“Really?” He sounds surprised. “I thought from everything you’d said, it was Neal who was always on the move, not Jo.”

“I thought so, too. But you can understand it, can’t you? There are too many bad memories in that place. And round here, too.” I hesitate. “You know . . .” I reach a hand out, gently touching his arm. “We still haven’t really talked, have we? About while you were away. Do you think we should?”

And there it is again, between us. Suddenly, I’m nervous.

He sighs. “I was bloody jealous, Kate. But when I got over it, I trusted you. I’ve never had any reason not to—only, I suppose trust just got lost along the way.”

I pause. Do I ask? If I don’t, it will always be there, rearing its ugly head whenever we argue. “Angus? Was there something? With Ally?”

Again he sighs. Hesitates, which tells me all I need to know. Feeling physically sick, I lean forward to get up and walk away from him, but he grabs my arm tightly. “There wasn’t. But she wanted there to be. We got a bit drunk one night. She tried to kiss me, then realized her mistake.... That’s all. That’s why I booked the hotel.... I hoped you’d never know.”

I’m quiet, thinking that if Neal hadn’t kissed me, I
so
wouldn’t get this. For the first time, I tell him the full story of what happened.

“It doesn’t make it right, but it was a weird time. You weren’t here. Or Grace, of course. And then Jo went on her IT course. I thought it was neighborly to invite Neal and Delphine over.”

Angus’s jaw clenches. “Well, I’m sure it was. Only, Neal has his own definition of
neighborly.
”

“To be honest, I’m not sure he didn’t set it up,” I say slowly. “I talked to Laura. She couldn’t believe I didn’t see it coming.”

He raises his eyebrows. “You told her?”

I nod. “I had to talk to someone. I felt so guilty, Angus.”

He’s silent. “You know what? You did nothing wrong, Kate. It
was
a weird time, but it’s behind us. We’re together. We’ve survived it, and that’s what matters. Now, come here.”

I wonder at what cost those words come. On the sofa, I snuggle closer to him, but in the silence, my ears prick up at the faint sound of footsteps on the gravel.

“Someone’s outside.”

Then there’s the distinctive click of the letter box snapping shut.

“Just a moment . . .” I unfold myself from his arms and walk out to the kitchen, a hollow feeling in the pit of my stomach, throw open the door, stare outside into the darkness. But like before, there’s only silence. I close it again.

Then I see it on the floor. Another envelope.

I take it through to Angus.

“If this is what I think it is, it’s the third,” I tell him.

He takes it from me, opens it, and frowns.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“There were two others,” I tell him. “I’ve given them to the police. The first was, ‘If you only knew the truth.’ Then, a few days later, a second arrived. ‘In a world of people, I’m alone.’” Words ingrained on my mind. “It must be to do with Rosie, don’t you think?”

“It’s hardly likely to be anything else, is it?”

“Laura thinks there’s a slim chance it’s someone local just stirring up trouble because I’m friends with Jo. She says there are people who do that kind of thing.”

“Maybe.” Angus is thoughtful. “She might be right.... But what if she’s not? What if someone out there knows something?”

And though I know the likelihood is he’s wrong, just hearing him say that sends a shiver down my spine.

I take the note back from him. “I’ll call Sergeant Beauman tomorrow.”

Angus nods silently, then takes my hand, pulls me toward him. “So, Mrs. McKay, you know what you said earlier on? About this lost time we have to make up for? How about now?”

31

T
rue to her word, Jo’s lawyer gets Neal to consent, and the house goes on the market. The fact that it happens so quickly makes me wonder how stretched they are financially. Straight away, people want to view it, throwing her into the mother of all panics.

“But I’m not ready!” she cries, running her hands through her hair, knocking her sunglasses onto the floor. She often wears them, even on the dullest day. “Half of me doesn’t even want them here, prying into our lives. Everyone knows about us. They believe the gossip, don’t they? I’ve told the agent to give me a few days.”

It’s exactly what she said last week. I wonder if perhaps she’s having second thoughts.

“Jo, you really don’t have to do this. Not yet. Put it off, even if only for a couple of months, but give yourself a break.”

“But I have to, Kate.” Her eyes are desperate. “Can’t you see? I need the money. And as long as I stay, it’s like living with a ghost.”

She doesn’t say whose ghost. But the more I try to reason with her, the more upset she gets, and in the end, I let it go.

“You could at least let me tidy your garden,” I tell her. “Nothing major. Just cut the grass, prune the shrubs a bit. It’s surprising what a difference it makes.”

I can see her thinking about it. She glances outside. “Are you sure? You’re so busy. I hate to ask.”

“You didn’t ask. I offered. It won’t take me long. I’ll pop in tomorrow, when I get a free couple of hours, if you don’t mind me letting myself in?”

“I’ll probably be here,” she says, hesitating. “But if I’m not, that’s so kind, Kate. Thank you.”

“I can help, Mummy.” It’s Delphine, standing in the doorway. Neither of us had noticed her there.

“Oh!” Jo looks flustered again. “Don’t worry, honey. . . . I think we’re almost there.”

“But there’s the garage. I could tidy in there.”

An odd look crosses Jo’s face. “I don’t think we need to worry about that. People don’t care what’s in your garage, do they? Before we move, I’ll get someone in to clear it.”

“No, Mummy. You can’t do that. Remember my old books are in there?”

“They’re upstairs, aren’t they? I’m sure they are.... Why don’t you go and have a look?”

“Would you like some help, Delphine?” She stands alone, this child. I’ve never seen Jo touch her, cuddle her, or any visible display of affection between them.

Delphine hesitates. Then it’s as though something unspoken flows between her and Jo before she turns back to me. “Thank you, but I think I can manage.”

 

The next day, when I go back to work on Jo’s garden, the house is locked and Jo’s car isn’t there. I let myself in through the side gate, as we agreed, and get to work.

A couple of hours in, I realize there’s far more work needed than I’d thought. The lawn’s freshly mown stripes give it an instant face-lift, but everywhere I look, there’s something else. After hunting around for a wheelbarrow, I start on the flower beds nearest the house, imagining most potential buyers won’t venture much farther, only the trouble is, once I’ve done them, the rest looks even worse.

There’s no sign of a compost heap. In need of something large to hold all the weeds, I go to get some gardening sacks from my car. Only, as I pass the garage, I glance in the window, to see a pile just inside, on the floor.

I try the door. It’s unlocked, so I let myself in. In spite of what Jo said, it’s the tidiest garage I’ve ever seen. A pair of shelves at one end hold one or two pots and what I imagine are the books that belong to Delphine. Other than that, there’s hardly anything in here. Apart from the suitcases of Neal’s clothes, there are boxes, gardening tools, and an old cupboard.

As I bend down to pick up the gardening sacks, I don’t hear anyone, but I’m suddenly aware of someone close behind me. As I stand up and turn round, I’m face-to-face with Jo.

“God! You gave me the fright of my life! I was just getting these!” I wave the empty bags at her.

“How did you get in?” If I didn’t know her better, I’d say the look on her face was hostile. Behind her, Delphine appears.

“Hi! The door was open. I didn’t think you’d mind. There’s more to do out there than I realized. I thought I’d take the rubbish away to save you the trouble.”

“I don’t understand,” she says, turning to her daughter. “Delphine locked it just before we went out, didn’t you?”

Delphine nods.

I shrug. “Maybe the lock stuck or something. Anyway, I ought to get on.”

Jo seems to snap out of whatever it is that’s preoccupying her. “Yes. Of course. Sorry. You just surprised me, that’s all. I’ll put the kettle on and make us some tea.”

“That would be great.”

As I go back to my pruning, the irony strikes me that for all Neal’s controlling ways, Jo, too, seems to like her life just so. The garden, however, gets the better of me. I make it halfway along the first border before deciding the rest will have to wait for another day.

As I stand up and stretch my aching back, the little apple tree catches my eye. It hasn’t flowered the way it ought to, and the leaves that are unfurling are yellowed and unhealthy looking. And I wonder,
If I replaced it, would she even notice?

 

Laura stops by unexpectedly with the news that the trial starts next month.

“Do you know if Jo will have to be there?” It’s a question I don’t dare ask Jo.

“Almost certainly. She’s a key witness, isn’t she?”

“I’m really worried about what it will do to her.” It’s too soon for her. She’s too fragile.

“I know. Same.”

“You’d think . . .” I hesitate. “Nothing’s changed, has it? I mean, it’s obvious enough Neal’s guilty . . . isn’t it?”

Laura raises her eyebrows. “Are you thinking about Alex again?”

Suddenly, I’m less sure. “Maybe . . . I don’t know. Only, you read about innocent people being convicted.... What if Neal’s not the murderer?”

“There’s nothing innocent about Neal Anderson. Anyway, the trial will consider absolutely everything.” She hesitates; then a look of surprise dawns on her face. “Oh my God. You’re thinking about the notes.”