Now Stella was hoping that Imogen could shed some light on why her pig-headed daughter had cut herself off from the world.
‘I know you haven’t seen her since you and Will split up, Imogen, but Laura wasn’t happy with Hugo, you know. From the early days she just seemed to go down and down. She wouldn’t speak to me, and with you two incommunicado, she had nobody. She was lost without you.’
‘I know, Stella. I was lost without her too.’
Stella knew that this was true. She had wanted so much to help both her daughters - because Imogen was as good as, wasn’t she? And Will was miserable too. Divorce was always difficult, but Laura was still married for goodness sake. In spite of that fact, Stella had watched her sink further and further into a sort of wretched hopelessness, and it had torn her apart. The two friends had needed each other more than ever and shouldn’t have allowed an argument to come between them. Stella was fed up with being fobbed off by the pair of them.
And
Will. He was as bad.
‘Isn’t it about time somebody told me what really happened all those years ago? What could have been bad enough not only for you and Will to get divorced, but for Laura to stop speaking to you too? And why would nobody tell me the truth, because the story you all cooked up had ‘rubbish’ written all over it?’
Imogen closed her eyes and bit her bottom lip - a childhood habit that always indicated she was stressed. She leaned across the table and caught hold of Stella’s hand.
‘Oh God, Stella - I’m so sorry. You’re right - we didn’t tell you the truth. Will wanted to protect you from knowing what a dreadful person I really am, and I just wanted you to continue to love me.’
Stella could see that Imogen was fighting back the tears, but she resisted the temptation to go and give her a hug. That way, she might never find out the truth. She squeezed her hand gently, keeping quiet until Imogen was ready to continue.
‘I think in some ways Laura felt to blame, as she seemed to be taking the blame for just about everything at that time. I would have told you the truth ages ago, but I kept hoping that Will would come round. So I
will
tell you, but I’m going to make myself a coffee first. I think I need the caffeine fix!’
Stella didn’t want anything to distract Imogen, and weary as she was, finally getting to the bottom of something that had disturbed her for years was certainly worth getting up from her comfy seat for.
‘You talk, Imogen. I’ll make the coffee and some toast for us both.’
As she picked up the kettle, she heard Imogen take a deep, trembling breath and let it out slowly. She was speaking quietly, as if the shame of all those years ago was rising up to overwhelm her.
‘Do you remember that before we split up Will had started looking for a job on an aid project? He really felt that he could make a difference, and I was happy to go wherever he went - as a volunteer. There was one particular project that he’d been keen to work on. So keen, in fact, that he’d asked Laura to have a word with Hugo, to see if he would consider making a donation to the charity in question. Will thought that if he could raise some cash it would make it easier to get on the team.
‘We were still waiting to hear back from Laura when we got a surprise call from Hugo. He invited us for the weekend, and said an old school friend of his was going to be in the area and he would love us to join them. We were stunned. Hugo had done nothing to encourage us to visit in the few months since they’d been married, and I’d only seen Laura briefly on a couple of occasions - both times at the house in London rather than here - and never alone.’
Stella placed a mug of coffee in front of Imogen, who appeared to be miles away - no doubt reliving every second of that time.
‘This invitation came completely out of the blue, and we were delighted to accept. We thought Hugo was coming round to us being a significant part of Laura’s life. The day before we were due to come down here, Will got a phone call from the company in Ireland who were managing the aid project. They were looking for an engineer, and asked Will if he could possibly fly over to see them for a meeting on Saturday morning? Neither of us thought it odd that it was a Saturday, because with these sorts of projects you just do whatever it takes. Will even wondered if Hugo had come up trumps and sent a donation. A joke, in retrospect.
‘Obviously he had to go, but it was a bit late in the day to cancel the dinner invitation, particularly if Hugo had made the interview possible, so I decided to come here on my own. The company in Ireland made all the arrangements for Will, and said there would be tickets waiting at Heathrow for the Friday night flight. So he dropped me off here and went on to the airport.’
Imogen was grasping the hot mug in her hands, as if to find the strength to carry on. Stella put a plate of toast in the centre of the table and sat down to listen in silence, wondering where this was going.
‘Hugo had ordered a very smart dinner with compulsory evening dress. His friend Sebastian was charming, but a little smarmy for my tastes. Anyway, Hugo kept plying us all with drinks and it turned into a surprisingly pleasant evening.
‘After Hugo had dismissed the caterers, he got out the brandy. I said I didn’t want any, and neither did Laura, but Hugo insisted that I be tempted with something. I tried to refuse, but he became quite indignant, and said that as the host, he would be deeply offended if I didn’t take one of the liqueur selection he had bought specially for the occasion. I didn’t believe that for one moment, but this had been the friendliest I had ever seen Hugo, so I complied, as did Laura. We were both a bit tipsy, but certainly not drunk. It was getting fairly late by then - well after midnight, because we hadn’t started dinner until at least 9.30. Hugo mixed our drinks himself, and they were large measures. Laura and I obviously both had the same idea - it was better to drink up than to displease his lordship.’
Imogen pushed the coffee cup away from her, and put her head in her hands. As she spoke, she didn’t look at Stella. She just stared down at the table. Stella could feel panic rising in her chest. She knew this was going to be worse than she’d imagined, and now wished that she had never opened this can of worms. She could barely make out Imogen’s words as she began to sob.
‘That’s the last thing I remember until the next morning. When I woke up, I was in bed in the cottage. And I wasn’t alone. Sebastian was lying on top of the covers. He was naked… and so was I.’
She lifted a distraught face and looked at Stella, who felt a piercing stab of dismay.
‘God, Stella - you have to believe me, it was the worst moment of my life. What had woken me was the front door slamming, and the sound of feet running upstairs. When I turned to look towards the bedroom door, Will was just standing there with his hands by his sides. I’ll never forget the look on his face, Stella. I might have expected anger, but it was a look of such despair that it broke my heart. I crawled across the bed to him. I was too weak to stand up, but he just turned and walked away.’
Imogen put her head down on folded arms, and sobbed softly. Stella was appalled, and her heart was nearly breaking at the thought of what this must have done to her son, who was so much in love with his wife. She recalled the overwhelming pain she had felt when the first of David’s infidelities had come to light - it all came rushing back and she felt her son’s suffering as if it were her own. Why had he never told her? But she knew the answer. Shame. Her poor boy. She felt nothing but disgust for Imogen at that moment.
‘Are you telling me, lady, that you got so outrageously drunk, you let this man - a stranger - into your bed? How could you, Imogen? How could you?’
‘No.
No
! Stella you have to believe me. I didn’t. At first, I thought that’s what must have happened, but although I could remember being a bit tipsy, I couldn’t for a minute remember feeling drunk. One moment both Laura and I were just a bit giggly. Next moment, wham! I didn’t remember a thing. When I eventually spoke to Laura, she said that she was the same, and that Hugo had put her to bed. She said he was ashamed of the pair of us.’
Imogen stood up and went to grab a piece of kitchen roll to wipe her eyes and nose. The sobbing had stopped, but tears were streaming down her face. Stella was still sceptical, and was working hard to contain her anger.
‘So what was Will doing there, Imogen? You obviously expected him to be away until the next day. Otherwise maybe you would have behaved a little better, and not torn my son into pieces.’
‘Do you think that’s what I wanted? Will said he took the flight to Dublin on Friday night, but when he arrived there was a message waiting for him to say the meeting had been cancelled and he was booked on the early morning flight back. He had no luggage, so he was back here before eight. I asked him what reason the company had given, but he had never followed it up. Not top of his agenda, he said.
‘Sebastian left immediately, and I never spoke to him again. Apparently Laura wasn’t aware of his existence before that night, and she’s told me that she never heard anything more about him. When she asked Hugo, he said he was too embarrassed to invite him again.’
Imogen returned to her seat opposite Stella, and wiped her face with the kitchen roll. A still simmering Stella caught her gaze.
‘I know what you must think,’ Imogen said. ‘But please let me finish before you judge me. After that night, Hugo told Laura that I was an appalling drunk who had broken her brother’s heart. He said I’d disgraced him in front of Sebastian, although I don’t see how I was in any way more culpable than his so-called friend, but he didn’t want me in the house. Will, of course, would be welcome. He asked her to agree never to see me again.
‘I had no idea what had happened, but I knew it wasn’t right. I
love
Will. Anyway, about six months later, I was investigating whether all the hype about the internet was relevant to our company, and I came across an article on the BBC website about something called Rohypnol. Nowadays everybody’s heard of so called ‘date rape drugs’, but then it was real news. It had been used in a few cases of rape in the US, but this was the first time in Britain. I became absolutely convinced that Rohypnol had been slipped into mine and Laura’s drinks that night.’
Stella had listened as requested, but she remained unconvinced.
‘Why would Hugo want to drug you and Laura? And where would he get hold of the stuff anyway?’
‘Didn’t I mention that Sebastian was American? It was easy to get hold of in the US because it wasn’t illegal in Mexico, so I presume Sebastian brought it with him. Hugo must have agreed it with him in advance. The plan was to disgrace me, so that Laura could be banned from ever seeing me again.’
‘Well, I can’t think why Hugo would want to do that, but we’ll get to that later. How could anybody have known that Will would get back in time?’
‘At first, I thought it was just the worst of bad luck. But it all seemed too well planned for me. So I phoned the company in Southern Ireland. They’d never heard of the man who had phoned Will. I phoned British Airways to try to find out who had paid for the tickets, but I got no joy there either. Hugo knew what this job opportunity meant to Will. The timing was all too perfect.’
Stella was starting to believe that this could just hold a grain of truth, but it would make her dead son-in-law more evil than even she had believed. She grabbed a piece of toast from the plate and started to spread it liberally with jam. She made no attempt to eat it, though, and just pushed the plate away.
‘I’m sorry, Imogen. It just seems too far-fetched. Why would he do that? And what did Laura think of this outlandish theory?’
‘Laura was way too far under his spell, and she just wouldn’t believe me about the Rohypnol. She told me not to call her again, and I was so upset that I didn’t. I tried and tried to get Will to understand, but like you he was unconvinced. By this time, I’d realised what might have triggered this chain of events. A few days before we got the dinner invitation from Hugo, I was on the phone to Laura. She was crying; really sobbing. She said there was something that she desperately needed to talk to me about. I tried to get her to tell me what the problem was, but she said she couldn’t say on the phone. I was all for going straight down to see her, but she begged me to wait until Hugo was away. He was due to go to Paris a few weeks later. Then she would tell me everything, but there were things she wanted to show me too - so it had to be in Oxfordshire. Just as we were completing our plans, I heard Laura gasp. ‘Shit! I’ve got to go,’ she whispered. ‘Oh please God, don’t let him have heard!’ and she hung up. The dinner party happened before we had a chance to meet, and we weren’t left on our own for a minute after I arrived for that weekend.’
Stella couldn’t keep the doubt out of her voice.
‘So you think that Hugo heard you talking, and didn’t like the fact that she was going to tell you something - or didn’t like the fact that she had somebody close to talk to. You think that he engineered this whole elaborate event just to break up your friendship?’
‘Yes Stella, I do - and it worked.’
‘And what does Laura think now?’
Neither of them had heard Laura enter the room, where she had been listening for the last couple of minutes.
‘It’s the truth, Mum. All of it. You have absolutely no idea what Hugo was capable of. This was the least of his crimes.’
*
Becky stopped dead in her tracks in the hallway as she heard these words. Arriving just seconds before, Becky had found Mrs Bennett on her hands and knees cleaning the front steps. Not wanting to make the poor lady get up, she had told her not to worry as she could make her way to the kitchen and see if anybody was out of bed yet.
The door from the hall to the back of the house was propped open with an old umbrella rack, and Laura had spoken from the open kitchen door, which swung closed behind her after she uttered the sentence which had so mesmerised Becky. Their voices were more muffled now, and hating to be an eavesdropper but remembering that primarily she was a police officer, Becky made her way towards the door. The voices were slightly raised, so it wasn’t too difficult to make out the words. She recognised each of their voices from the previous day, and Stella was first to speak.