The Moon Spun Round (34 page)

‘You poor wee lamb.’ Fran wraps her arms around Claire and rocks her gently. ‘We’d no idea it was like that. No wonder…’

‘Oh, why didn’t you tell us? You’ve been holding on to all this.’ Naomi is sitting at Claire’s feet, still holding her hand. She rubs her cheek on Claire’s knee. ‘Why didn’t you let us help you?’

‘Your father was a very sick man,’ says Sally. ‘There was probably nothing your mother could have done.’

‘I know that.’ There’s a sharp edge to Claire’s voice. ‘Of course I know that. Anyway, after that there was very little left between us, nothing worth salvaging. I moved out as soon as I could. We hardly saw each other for years.’

Fran brushes Claire’s hair out of her eyes. ‘So what’s this about her and Ayden? How did you get mixed up with him anyway?’

‘You’ve all met him. You know what he’s like. Mr Charming himself. I was vulnerable, I suppose. I’d never had much in the way of affection, especially from a man. And he behaved as if I were the sun and the moon. He wanted to own me, possess me, worship me. At least that’s what he said. I just got swept along with it.’

‘All the usual danger signals,’ says Fran. ‘I expect he stopped you seeing your friends, moved you away from what little family you had? Fits the pattern.’

‘Yes, that’s how it was. At first I thought it was because he loved me. How dumb can you get? It was like I’d escaped from one tyrant only to run straight into another one.’

‘I suppose we all end up marrying our own fathers,’ says Abbie, ‘no matter what we set out to do.’

‘Ayden’s very like mine, I can see that now. He even has that little line between his eyes, like a warning signal. By the time I realized, it was too late. We’d married and moved to Hallowfield.’ She clings to Naomi’s hands. ‘Thank
heaven we did. He wanted one of the new houses. Four-bedroom detached, en suite, double garage. He’s very into status symbols. Guess I was one of them.’

‘And your psychic thing?’

‘Oh, no. That’s not permitted.’

‘But he uses it to keep you under control?’

‘Yes, that and the…It’s not that it happens often. It’s the threat, you see. It’s always there—at any moment he could turn. And if I tell anyone or if I try to leave him, he’ll say I’m mad.’

‘And your mother would back him up? After all that happened to her? He’s obviously met her?’

‘Oh yes, they’ve met. At the wedding and a few times since. She’s not what you’d call clued into men, just as vulnerable as I was. He charmed his way around her. And then he started asking questions about my “nerves,” and had I always imagined things? What was she supposed to do? Admit her husband was a wife-beater? Say her child was mentally abused and tortured while she stood by and did nothing to stop it? It’s like she’s locked it all away in some dark cupboard so she doesn’t have to look at it any more. No, much easier to remember what the doctors said and how they gave me pills to make it better. She’ll back him up all right.’ Claire smiles and shakes her head. ‘I have to keep reminding myself that she’s a victim, too.’

‘And if we turn him over to the police…?’

‘He’ll try to have me committed. Apart from pure vindictiveness, it would now be his best line of defence.’

‘Yes, I think you’re right there.’ Abbie stands up, folding her arms and pacing the room in thought. ‘It wouldn’t save him, of course, not in the long run. But a good lawyer could use it to stall the police for a while. It might just be enough to get Claire sectioned. But then, even if her mother went along with it, it would never stand up medically.’

‘No. But they’d put Claire in a hospital.’ Naomi scrambles to her feet. ‘There’d be doctors and psychiatrists…They’d keep asking her questions.’

‘That’s right,’ says Sally. ‘They could hold her for three days on just a doctor’s say-so. There’d be an appeal of course, a medical panel—’

Naomi moves in front of Claire as if to shield her. ‘And it would be just like before. Like those church men. An inquisition. No, we can’t put her through that.’

‘You’re right,’ says Abbie. ‘We can’t ask that of her. It’s too much.’

‘Out of the question.’ Fran is also defiant. ‘Don’t worry, my pet. You don’t have to say anything to the police or anyone else. But you’re not going back to him. Is that understood?’

‘Do you think he’ll let her go that easily?’ asks Sally.

‘Damn right he will. Essentially he’s a coward. Besides, now he’s got more to worry about than his wife running away.’

‘But we can’t just let him get away with it. What about Ruth?’ Abbie demands.

Naomi tosses her head, her hair swirling and her eyes flashing with cold anger. ‘Who said anything about him getting away with it?’

A
BBIE JUMPS DOWN FROM
the driver’s seat and runs around to help Fran, who already has the back open and is dragging black bin liners onto the front path. Sally opens the cottage door to let them in, and they burst into the kitchen, breathless and giggling. The commando raid has obviously scored a victory.

‘Where’s Claire? Is she still downstairs?’ Fran turns around and is already out the door on her way to collect another bag and a cardboard box.

‘So did the police come?’ asks Abbie.

‘Yes, just as we expected,’ says Sally. ‘In fact they came shortly after you left. They’re probably looking for
you
now. Claire’s still downstairs. We would have taken her back upstairs, but she insisted on waiting until you got back. She was worried that you might have run into you-know-who. She might as well see this lot before she goes back to bed.’

‘Right. Let’s get this sorted, then you can fill us in on your morning.’

The bags and bundles are shifted through to the sitting room where Claire, guarded by Naomi, is leaning back in an armchair, Cat curled up on her lap.

‘There,’ Abbie is beaming, ‘all your worldly goods. We emptied your wardrobe, drawers and shoe cupboards. Found most of the records and books you asked for and a few more besides. They looked more your taste than Ayden’s.’

‘And most important, there’s this.’ Fran flourishes Claire’s handbag. ‘Look inside and see what else we recovered.’

Claire opens the bag and pulls out a handful of documents. ‘Oh, thank heavens. Birth certificate, passport, medical cards, National Insurance papers. I’m a legal citizen again. I’m not sure I need the marriage certificate.’

‘No, but your divorce lawyer will.’

‘And, what’s more, your credit card and cash card were still in your purse, so we visited Newmarket and Cambridge, did a tour of the cash dispensers. Look at this.’ Abbie up-ends a paper bag and wads of banknotes tumble and flutter into Claire’s lap, sending Cat flying for safety. ‘I think you’ll find there’s over four thousand pounds there. They stopped paying out when we reached the daily limit.’

‘We didn’t have much more than that, anyway. The business account is separate.’ Claire is on the brink of laughter. She runs her hands through the money. ‘I think you’ve nearly cleaned him out. He’ll be furious.’ The laughter spills over and her eyes are bright with tears.

It’s Fran who knows about these things. ‘You have to act quickly, before they have time to realize that the woman isn’t coming back. Once that sinks in, they start making life as difficult as possible—cancel credit cards, put a block on shared bank accounts, change the locks. If they’re really vindictive, they’ll cut up her clothes or set fire to her belongings. I’ve helped re-house plenty of women, moved them to the other end of the country when necessary. Clothes and personal stuff can be replaced, but if you have any hope of starting a new life, it’s the paperwork you need. Apply for a job, rent a flat—you’ll get nowhere without some sort of identity. And for that you need your own bank account and credit cards, and you try getting those without a birth certificate or a passport.’

They’d planned it all late last night while they listened in to each news broadcast, waiting for the story to unfold.

By this morning it will have been over twenty-four hours since Claire fled her home early on New Year’s Day. Although Ayden has guessed she is with Naomi and has said Naomi could keep her, part of him will still expect Claire to come crawling back as she’s always done. He will be planning to take his revenge, one way or another. They have had to act immediately, while he is still terrified by the events of New Year’s morning and while he is still so full of anger that he can’t think clearly; act, before he fully realizes that his wife has really gone and that whoever is hiding her will also know what happened to Ruth.

Today, most of the country will be going back to work, picking up the threads of a new year. Town will be busy with the January sales, and if they are lucky Ayden might be at his computer store. So Sally had rung, asking about some software, hoping he wouldn’t recognize her voice. Yes, he will be open all day. If she cares to call in later…That told them that the coast would be clear. It also told them he is attempting to behave as normal. He must know that the police will be watching the villagers on the lookout for any change in routine.

Entering the house was no problem. Claire had told them the alarm code and where to find the spare door key. The street was quiet, most of the residents being out during the daytime. And what if they
were
seen? Only Mrs Hunter-Gordon and the vicar’s wife collecting for the next jumble sale.

‘So, you’re a free woman.’ Naomi laughs with her.

Claire wipes her eyes with a tissue. ‘It can’t be that easy, can it?’ And then she catches her breath. ‘No, it wasn’t that easy. Think what it cost…Ruth…It cost—’

‘Right. That’s enough of that.’ Fran seizes one of the bags. ‘Let’s get this lot upstairs. Hope you’ve got room for it all, Sally?’

‘And I think it’s time we got you back to bed.’ Abbie slips off her coat in preparation for work. ‘That dressing ought to be changed again. And then you can get some sleep. I expect you’re exhausted.’

It had been a long morning for Sally, Naomi and Claire. They had guessed that the police would be back first thing, so, while Abbie and Fran went off to reclaim Claire’s worldly goods, they had set about staging a charade. Claire had to be helped out of bed, then she had insisted on taking a shower and said she felt better for it. Naomi was horrified at the purple and blue stains that patched most of her body. They helped her dress in Sally’s clothes: trousers and a high-necked, loose-fitting sweater, nothing showing. Claire fixed her own hair and borrowed some make-up. By the time they had sat her in an armchair with a coat thrown over the back and a handbag by her feet, she looked like any casual visitor.