I didn’t tell him I recognised that chisel. That I was sure it belonged to Alex; that he kept it in a toolbox in the back of his old Land Rover.
We went back into the warmth to wait for the tow-truck, much to Digby’s great excitement. He hated spending his days alone; despite the fact Jenny had started to walk him regularly while I was at work, I felt guilty whenever I left him at home. Seb offered to take him for a trot round the block while I made some coffee and scrambled eggs. If I didn’t eat soon, I’d be sick. I chopped mushrooms like my life depended on it, narrowly avoiding slicing my little finger off in rage. Switching the kettle on, I noticed the red light flashing on my answer-phone.
There were two messages: one from Stefano Costana asking if he could bring an ‘interested party’ round to see the flat – the other from an extremely agitated Mrs Forlani, who lived opposite. She was worried, she said,
mia bella
Maggie, she didn’t want to appear nosy but there’d been a stranger lurking by my front door for much of the evening. A couple of times he’d even tried the handle, but when Matteo had gone down to see if he could help, he’d disappeared. Then they saw him again before they went to bed, about ten last night, which is when she’d rung me.
Abandoning the mushrooms, I sat down at the table, head in my hands. I lit a cigarette, jumped up, paced up and down the kitchen, thinking. I wasn’t very certain of a lot of things right now, but one thing I knew for sure: this just couldn’t go on. Something had to give – and soon it would be my brain.
‘The tow-truck’s here.’ Seb bounded into the kitchen, Digby at his heels, bringing the cold in with them. I shivered.
‘Good.’ I stared out of the window at the tail-lights of a train.
‘Look, Seb,’ I turned back, ‘I’m going to call the police, okay? I think you were right to do it last time. This is all starting to really freak me out.’
‘I’m not surprised.’ He kissed the top of my head. ‘Whatever you think, babe.’
‘And then I’m going to get out of London.’
He looked quizzical.
‘After work, I’m going down to Cornwall.’ I contemplated my feet. ‘I think I might have mentioned it last night.’ I had nothing to lose – especially if my stalker got me first. ‘You could – I was serious about you coming with me, if you like.’
I tore my eyes from the floor to find Seb looking rather awkward.
‘Thanks, babe. It’s a really tempting offer. I’m just not sure –’
I cut across his words, grinding my cigarette out briskly. ‘It’s fine, Seb. Really. You don’t have to explain.’
‘Maggie, honestly, I’d love to come. It’s just, with rehearsals and everything at the moment, I’m not sure I can get away. The show goes up next week.’
‘Up where?’
‘It starts, I mean.’ He smiled that charming crooked smile. ‘It’s a technical term. What’s in Cornwall, anyway?’
I gave a diffident sort of shrug. ‘I’ve got a little house,’ I said. I’d gone off the subject now. ‘Well, not a house. A cottage.’
‘Oh, right. How nice. Very
To the Manor Born
.’
I flushed angrily. ‘Hardly. I inherited it.’ That didn’t sound much better. ‘I mean – it was my grandmother’s. Her home. Her only home.’
‘And she doesn’t live there any more?’
‘No. She’s gone a bit – she’s got dementia. She’s in care. She left it to me. In her living will.’
‘Lucky you.’
‘I know,’ I said stiffly. ‘I’m very lucky. I do know that. Though I’d rather have my gran back.’ I turned towards the sink and
swilled my cup out. ‘I’m her – I’m her only surviving relative, you see. Since my mum –’
Like a dragon rushing from its lair, a train to God-knew-where went speeding past. I wished vehemently that I was on it.
‘Since your mum what, Maggie?’ Seb asked quietly. He was behind me now.
‘Forget it.’
‘Maggie!’ Seb tried to turn me round, but I shrugged him off. The eggs had congealed horribly on the hob.
‘Maggie, babe –’
‘That reminds me. I still can’t find the bloody key for Pendarlin.’ I ransacked the pottery bowl for the fiftieth time this week. ‘I just can’t think –’
‘Maggie, look at me. What’s wrong? What happened to your mum?’
‘Nothing.’
‘You’re hiding something. You have been since I met you.’
‘Hiding? Me? Why would I be hiding anything?’ I met his look full-on this time with challenge in my eyes.
‘You’ve got to let me in, Maggie, if you want this to work.’
‘For God’s sake! You sound like the great Renee Owens, you know.’ I laughed with derision, without mirth. It always came down to this and I loathed it; hated being backed into this claustrophobic corner. Seb just looked bemused.
‘Why are you being like this? I don’t understand –’
‘You want to know about my mum? I’ll tell you, shall I?’ I caught my reflection in the mirror behind him: my hair all up on end, my eyes blazing, two spots of colour scalding my cheeks, the rest of my face as pale as death.
Seb stared at me like I was crazy.
‘Don’t look at me like that.’ I almost stamped my foot in frustration.
‘Like what? Maggie, this is ridiculous.’
‘Like you know what’s inside.’
‘Inside what?’ He pushed his hair back distractedly, utterly perplexed. ‘I’m lost, babe.’
‘Inside me. Inside my mother. The thing you want to know is this, you see.’ I nearly stopped but I couldn’t. It came flying out like that high-speed train. ‘My mother – my beautiful, my wonderful mother – she went quite mad.’
After that, it wasn’t really a surprise to be driving out to collect Bel alone that evening. I’d managed about two hours in the office and then I’d pleaded a migraine. I’d gone to see Gar at the nursing-home instead, lying my head down on the quilt while she slept. When I left I had the strangest feeling; a sense of foreboding, as if I might not see her again.
‘Look after her, Susan, won’t you? Don’t let anyone you don’t know in to see her.’
Susan patted my shoulder fondly. ‘I won’t, ducks, don’t worry.’ She blew her nose. ‘We never do anyway.’
And then I drove to the police station and asked to see DI Fox. Only he wasn’t there. Day off, of course. Apparently he’d told me.
‘Do policemen have days off?’ I asked stupidly, and the nice police lady offered me a cup of tea in the interview room and asked me what was wrong, why did I want to see the Detective Inspector anyway, and could she help instead?
I turned down the tea though I was sorely tempted. ‘Could you ask him to call Maggie Warren, please?’ I called over my shoulder as I rushed out again.
I collected Digby from Jenny’s, went home to get some clothes, and then drove to Bel’s, ringing my dad to make him promise to visit Gar tomorrow. Charlie kept trying to call me; I didn’t listen to the message he left.
‘You all right, Mag?’ Bel let me in, looking incredibly spaced-out. Before I could answer Hannah flew down the hall in tears. ‘Can you look after Cagney and Lacey? Please, Maggie, please.’
Squeaking hysterically, Cagney and Lacey both looked terrified. Bel prised the guinea pigs from her daughter’s hands.
‘Hannah, Maggie can’t have them because of Digby, you know that. Amelia’s going to look after them for you.’
‘But she won’t give them back, I know she won’t,’ Hannah wept. ‘She’ll keep them forever.’
‘Oh, Han,’ I said, bending to hug her, and I felt like my heart was cracking all over again. ‘I’ll check on them for you, okay? I promise I will.’ I tried to muffle the sob in my sentence. ‘And we won’t let Amelia keep them, I swear.’ I felt my phone vibrate and then it rang.
It was Seb. ‘Maggie, babe, I’m sorry about this morning.’
‘No,
I’m
sorry,’ I said a little stiffly, moving off down the hall to stand alone in the shadows.
‘Are you okay now?’
‘I’m fine, thanks.’
‘I was quite worried, I must say.’
‘I’m fine, really.’
‘Good. Look, I don’t have much time cos we’re about to run the last act.’
‘I understand. You’d better get on.’
‘Maggie, listen, I just wanted to say – if that invitation still stands – I’d love to come with you tonight. Unless you’ve changed your mind?’
‘Oh,’ I said foolishly. Slowly the world slid out from beneath its enormous storm-cloud. ‘No, of course not. But we’re about to leave.’
‘I was thinking – I could get the Heathrow Express from Paddington, if you like, and meet you at the airport. Would that work?’
‘Yes,’ I grinned. ‘That’s a great idea.’
‘Blimey,’ said Bel, marching down the hall with the trembling Cagney and Lacey in her arms. ‘You look like the Cheshire cat.’ She peered at me. ‘Have you just eaten the White Rabbit?’
The M4 was heavy with Friday-night traffic, and I was heavy with foreboding. I hadn’t been on this road since the coach crash and I was struggling with the memories now. We weaved slowly between row after row of fat four-by-fours driven by complacent second-homers with double-chins and stripy shirts, until a lorry lost its load of feathers in front of us and everything ground to a complete halt in a bizarre snowstorm of goose-down. By the time we reached the terminal, Bel was almost out of time to check in.
‘For God’s sake,’ she hissed as fluorescent-jacketed officials waved us on each time we tried to set down, ‘do we look like Jihadists?’
When I finally pulled up, Johnno leapt out, piling bags onto a trolley as Bel necked yet another Valium behind his back. ‘If I have any more of these, I’ll overdose,’ she muttered.
Hannah clutched her Barbie rucksack, a mini-Bel under the bright airport lights. ‘Aren’t you coming, Auntie Maggie?’ Her eyes were huge and owlish.
‘Not now, darling, no.’ I smiled cheerfully, but inside I felt like howling.
‘Why not?’ Her bottom lip quivered.
‘I’ll be out to see you really, really soon, I promise. And, look, hang on a sec.’ I delved in my bag for the book I’d bought Hannah for the plane. She ripped the wrapping off in a flurry of excitement. ‘
Little Red Riding Good
,’ she read carefully, ‘
and other Tales
. Did Riding Good have a tail?’
‘Red Riding
Hood
.’ I swept her up into a big hug. ‘She didn’t have a tail, but the wolf did.’
Hannah looked worried. ‘There are no wolves in Austria, are there?’
‘Australia. No, of course not.’ I kissed her soft little cheeks; I didn’t want to let her go. ‘Just lots of koala bears.’
‘It’s you who should be watching out for wolves, young lady, now I’m not going to be around,’ Bel said rather primly, fluffing up her hair in the car window. ‘Don’t rush into anything on the rebound, okay? You know, I’m sure there’s something I needed to tell you, Mag. I just can’t for the life of –’
‘Bel,’ Johnno’s tone was sharp, the trolley stacked high, ‘I know this is painful and all that, love, and your hair’s very important – but we’d really better get on. Have you got the passports?’
Bel patted her pockets rather vacantly. ‘’Spect they’re here somewhere. God, I haven’t even done my make-up.’
I clutched Hannah tighter. ‘Can’t she just stay with me?’ I whispered to Bel over Hannah’s shiny little head. ‘I’ll bring her out in a few months, I promise.’
Bel prised the little girl out of my arms and set her down by Johnno. ‘You’re as bad as her with those bloody guinea pigs.’ But my best friend’s eyes were full of tears now as she hugged me.
‘Christ, Bel, what am I going to do without you?’ I muttered.
‘Come with us,’ she said, and we were both crying now. ‘I’m serious. Why don’t you?’
‘I can’t. What about Gar? And Dad.’ Then I thought of Jenny. Of Alex. My life was changing slowly.
‘Bel!’ Johnno shouted.
‘All right, all right.’ She wiped her face fiercely and relinquished her hold.
‘Look after them, Johnno. They’re precious,’ I mumbled.
‘I will.’ He gave me a squeeze. ‘And you look after yourself, Maggie.’
Hannah ran at me and clutched my legs, her head buried in my jeans. I stroked her hair wordlessly until Johnno scooped her up.
‘Seriously, Maggie,’ Bel grabbed my hand and forced me to meet her eye, ‘take it easy, yeah? Remember the summer and stay strong. Remember you are strong.’
And then Johnno tugged Bel’s other hand gently and they began to move away. I stood and hugged myself, suddenly realising how cold I was, and I waved and waved as they retreated, and they turned and waved too, and I could see Bel was crying, and then they were gone, the little family, swallowed up by the crowd so I couldn’t see them any more. My family – gone.
Numb, I walked back to my car. I got in and stared blankly at the windscreen. Digby licked my hand several times valiantly – but I felt nothing. I watched the people come and go across the car park; waving goodbye, hugging hello. I saw people unloading, rushing, clinging on or desperate to cross the world to reach their loved ones. Goodbyes were anathema to me. I remembered my revelations to Seb that morning. I remembered my beloved mother. I buried my face in Digby’s springy back.
Goodbyes could only ever be poisonous.
I was in a world of my own when someone smacked the roof of my car. I’d been listening to the news, about the BBC faking a programme, while I waited for Seb in the airport car park.
‘Christ!’ I jumped, and locked all the doors immediately. Another knock. I craned round to see Seb grinning through the passenger window.
‘That’s not funny.’ I let him in crossly. ‘You gave me a real fright.’
‘Sorry.’ He threw his bag onto the back seat and slid in beside me, looking dishevelled and not very sorry at all. ‘I thought I’d surprise you.’
‘Terrify me, you mean.’ I started the engine. ‘You look a bit hot and bothered yourself, I must say.’
He pulled his grey cashmere jumper over his tousled hair. ‘Yeah, well, it was a close thing. They suddenly announced the suspension of the whole bloody line at Paddington. I just managed to get on the last train out. It was a bloody bun-fight though.
‘So how was the big farewell?’ he asked, yawning widely as we eased onto the motorway. ‘God, sorry. I’m knackered.’
‘Don’t ask,’ I said, as we shuddered in the slipstream of a lumbering juggernaut. The motorway was quiet now, the frenzy of London’s Friday night exodus apparently over for another week.
‘That good? I’m sorry, babe.’ He offered me a piece of chewing gum, flexing his shoulders. ‘God, I’m sore. I can’t wait to get out of bloody London. A whole weekend of sea air and doing nothing.’ He shot me a mischievous look. ‘Well, nothing
too
strenuous anyway.’
I was searching for an appropriate response when my phone rang. Seb picked it up from the glove compartment. ‘Someone called Fox,’ he said, peering at the display. ‘Shall I answer it?’
‘Yes please. Would you say I’ll call back.’
At a service station somewhere in deepest Wiltshire, Seb went to buy coffee while I called Val to check she’d left the spare key under the geranium pot, as I’d never found mine. Cheery Val was my nearest neighbour in Cornwall, apart from the pub – though she was still a good mile down the road. She kept an eye on Pendarlin and did the occasional bit of cleaning for me. After I’d spoken to her, I lit a cigarette and, leaning against the car, rang DI Fox back. I told him about the anonymous texts, and he took a note of the phone number they had come from.
‘I’ll get it checked out, Maggie.’ He was calm and matter of fact. ‘It might help a lot if it’s linked, because so far the evidence is all circumstantial.’ I could sense the wariness in his explanation. ‘Until we actually catch someone in the act of vandalism, there’s very little I can do. Much as I’d love to put a plod outside your door –’
‘Don’t be silly,’ I laughed. Out in the dark I suddenly felt free for the first time in weeks. I breathed in the cold country air, the vast sky above looking like someone had chucked a bucket of stars into the blackness, the night that went on forever now we were out of London’s grime. I always felt like this on the long road to Cornwall – like I was being reborn. Through the glass, I watched Seb at the counter of the coffee shop and felt a rush of optimism.
‘Honestly, it’s probably nothing. It’s probably just some
random nutter.’ I squashed the memories as best I could. ‘I’m sure it is.’
‘We have had a couple of complaints from property owners around you who’ve been harassed by a local family called the Frenches. Have you come across them?’
‘No. I don’t think so.’
‘They seem to think the area’s being taken over by –’ slight embarrassment crept through his tone – ‘by what they call very politely “a load of ponces”. We’re keeping an eye on them, believe me. Just got to catch ’em in the act, you see.’
‘Really? You mean, like a grudge?’ I grasped this information gladly; I was in desperate need for some respite. ‘Well, that might make sense. I’m out of London for a few days anyway, so I should be fine.’
‘Right. Well, look, just keep in touch, okay?’
‘I will, DI Fox. Thanks very much.’
Seb appeared out of the darkness bearing steaming coffee. He kissed my neck and I squirmed with pleasure, hardly concentrating on Fox’s final words. ‘I’ll speak to you sometime not
too
soon, I hope.’
It wasn’t until my mobile rang again halfway down the M5 that I realised I hadn’t mentioned my worries about Gar to DI Fox. Seb picked up the phone again.
‘Hello?’
There was a pause, then he held the phone out to me, his face darker suddenly. ‘Someone called Alex. He doesn’t sound too happy.’
I took the phone. ‘What do you want?’
‘What do you mean, what do I want? You rang me.’
‘No I didn’t,’ I muttered.
‘Yeah, you did.’
‘When?’ I frowned.
‘From Bel’s party last night, from what I could establish. Who the fuck just answered your phone?’ he snarled.
‘I’m driving, Alex,’ I said, ‘I can’t talk now.’ I didn’t want to draw Seb into this.
‘Well drive this, baby. Get the keys to the flat to Costana because I want to sell it fast before the market crashes. Okay?’
Even I was taken aback by Alex’s ferocity. By the hatred in his voice. ‘Don’t talk to me like that. What’s wrong with you, Alex?’
‘None of your fucking business.’
Digby barked suddenly as a Porsche whizzed by and was sucked up by the darkness.
‘Is that my dog?’ I recognised danger in Alex’s tone. ‘Have you got my dog with you, Maggie?’
‘Well, where else would he be? Should I have left him at home for you to feed?’ I was too close to the car in front; I braked sharply. ‘Just like you did in the summer. Are you drunk, Alex?’
‘No, I am not fucking drunk,’ he howled. ‘I gave up, I told you. Look, just get the estate agent the keys, would you?’
‘I can’t. I’m on my way to Pendarlin.’
‘With who?’ His tone was icy now. ‘That bloke who just answered the phone? And
my
dog.’
‘None of
your
damn business, Alex.’ I swerved slightly in the fast lane; Seb was starting to look worried now. ‘I’ve got to go.’
‘Just get Costana the keys on Monday, all right? And don’t ring me again.’ Alex hung up.
‘He didn’t sound like he was in a very good mood,’ Seb joked, but neither of us laughed. After a minute, he reached out and squeezed my thigh gently. ‘Okay?’
‘I’m fine. Sorry.’ I wasn’t fine, though, not fine at all. I was so angry I was practically crying with rage. I dashed away an imaginary tear. ‘Can I – do you mind if we don’t talk about it right now?’
‘Of course,’ he said softly. ‘I understand.’ He patted me. ‘Exes are a funny thing, eh?’
‘What makes you think he was my ex?’ I asked carefully. I pressed the cigarette lighter in like it was Alex’s face.
‘Isn’t he?’ Seb looked at me and I nodded silently. ‘It’s easy to tell, you know. They have a strange hold over us, I think, sometimes, our ex-lovers. Even if you don’t want to be together any more.’
I didn’t trust myself to speak right then. I just didn’t know how I could have reached such utter depths with someone I’d loved so much. I thought about the moment I’d finally realised that Alex and I
weren’t
together any more; that he
was
now my ex. After that disastrous first call from the hospital I’d tried to ring him several more times in the following days – to no avail. I had no recollection of a problem between us at first and I was stupefied. It took two weeks before the fog lifted even a little and the day of the crash began to take shape. And Alex had refused to see me; it was Bel who’d sat beside me and listened as I finally drew what had happened from the depths; it was Bel who filled in the excruciating blanks as best she could, and assured me it might hurt like hell-pains, but it was definitely for the best.
I threw my fag out of the window and tried to forget Alex. Now Seb was here instead.
It wasn’t until hours later, when we were on the moor road running through the wind-farm, the farm Alex and I had always joked looked like something from
Alien
, that I had a sudden thought. The estate agent must have keys already. He’d let himself in the other day.