Read Conflicted Innocence Online
Authors: Netta Newbound
Conflicted Innocence
Conflicted Innocence
Crime Files Book 2
Netta Newbound
Junction Publishing
New Zealand
Copyright © 2016 by Netta Newbound.
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Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.
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Conflicted Innocence/ Netta Newbound. -- 1st ed.
Contents
For Joshua, David and Adam, you light up my life
Ignoring the cries of her eight-month-old son coming from the baby monitor, Lydia slugged back the half-f glass of vodka, before slamming it back down on the worktop. She winced as the fiery liquid made its way down her throat.
She didn’t particularly like the taste of alcohol—she never had, but the effects were another story.
And, of course, the alcohol was purely for medicinal reasons. Since giving birth to Joseph, she’d not had more than four hours straight sleep. The vodka helped take the edge off her fraught nerves and enabled her to get through each day.
The phone rang at 7.30am on the dot. She groaned as she walked into the hallway, knowing exactly who would be calling at this hour.
“Yes, Mother?” Her voice grated impatiently.
“Hi, Lydia. Do you mind if I send Candy to you again? My knees are playing up, and there’s no way I could walk to school this morning.”
“For Christ’s sake, Mum. This is happening more and more. Can’t she go on her own? I’m trying to put Joseph down—he’s been up all bloody night.”
“You know I don’t like her going alone after what happened last year. Never mind. I’ll manage.”
Lydia caved, as her wily mother knew she would. “Send her around,” she sighed. “I’ll give Joey a bath instead, and hopefully he’ll be asleep by the time we get back from school.”
“Are you sure? Oh, thanks, love.”
“Yes, that’s fine. You go and put your feet up.”
“Are you okay? You sound strange.”
“I’m fine—just shattered. That’s all. I’ll speak to you later, Mum.”
She hung up, shaking her head.
Her mum and her eleven-year-old sister lived a few minutes down the road. There was a fifteen-year gap between the sisters. Their mother was 49-years-old when she got pregnant with Candice, and their father five years older than that. They thought they were way past the baby-making stage. But they treasured their precious little gift, even though they found it difficult at times and often leaned on Lydia for help.
Then, when her dad died suddenly two years ago, Lydia watched her mother’s health decline rapidly before her very eyes. Not only had the older woman developed diabetes because of her ever increasing weight, but now her knees were giving out under the sheer strain.
The doctors kept telling her she was eating herself to death, but it hadn’t made a blind bit of difference. Lydia suspected she wanted to die.
Lydia helped in any way she could, but it was much harder now with Joseph. And to top it all off, her husband, Lee, had been working in London for the past three months. This meant he was away from home Sunday night to Friday night, giving her no reprieve from their cranky and crotchety bundle of joy.
She half-filled her glass again and knocked it back in one swallow before stomping up the stairs wearily and into the bathroom of their three-bedroomed semi. She filled the tub. Squirting a dollop of bubble bath under the flowing water, she waited until the bubbles reached half way.
Joseph smiled at her as she entered his bedroom. Her stomach clenched as it did every time she looked at him. He was the love of her life, but such hard work.
“Hey, little fella. How about a bath?”
He lay in his cot, not crying for once. Instead, he gurgled away happily as he reached for his foot, lifting it up to suck on his toes.
Lydia stroked his silky blond curls, and he chuckled before blowing a raspberry.
“Cheeky sausage!” she said with a laugh.
She grabbed a nappy from underneath the changing station and placed it on top. Then she bent, opening the bottom drawer, and pulled out an outfit. As she stood upright, the room began to spin. Perhaps that last drink hadn’t been wise on an empty stomach.
She reached out to steady herself and staggered from the room, holding on to anything to help keep her upright.
“Mummy will be back soon, sweetie,” she called over her shoulder as she headed into the room next door. Feeling like shit, and so tired, she collapsed on the double bed, pulling the patchwork eiderdown up to her chin.
As she closed her eyes, she could hear Joseph’s squeals and giggles. She would rest for just a couple of minutes while he happily entertained himself.
*
The slam of the front door jolted Lydia from a deep sleep. She sat bolt upright, her heart beating loudly in her ears, and she glanced at the bedside clock—8.30am. Shit! Candice had arrived.
“I’m up here, sis.” She scrambled out of bed.
She heard Candice bounce up the stairs, chatting away on the bloody mobile phone that was constantly glued to her ear lately.
Lydia quickly pulled the eiderdown across the bed and headed for the door.
All of a sudden, her sister’s screams filled the silence.
Lydia raced into the hallway to see what the hell the noise was about.
Candice stood in the bathroom doorway, still holding the phone, screaming uncontrollably. Her other hand covered her mouth.
“Candy, Candy! Shhhh...what’s happened?” She gripped the girl’s upper arms, forcing her around to face her. “Who’s on the phone?”
Candice shook her head and dropped the phone.
“What’s happened, sweetie? Tell me.” The young girl’s terrified eyes sent chills through Lydia. Something was terribly wrong.
With shaking hands, Candice pointed over Lydia’s shoulder, into the bathroom.
Confused, Lydia turned to look at what her sister was pointing at, and her blood froze.
It took a second to register what she was actually seeing. Then, with an ear-piercing scream, she ran and dropped to her knees, dragging the unmoving, lifeless body of her son from the water.
“Oh, no! What have I done? What have I done?” She spun towards Candice. “Call an ambulance,” she screamed. “Candice, call a fucking ambulance!”
Candice staggered from the room, and Lydia was vaguely aware of her talking to somebody.
Lydia began breathing into the tiny, perfectly formed mouth of her son and pumping at his fragile little chest.
“Come on, baby. Breathe,” she said in between breaths.
Then a long slow blow.
“Joseph, breathe, baby. Breathe for mummy.”
She lost track of how long she stayed that way, oblivious to everything and everybody, until the paramedic dragged her off her dead baby and her heart shattered into a billion pieces.
I glanced at James excitedly as he pulled the Jeep to a stop outside a semi-detached brick house.
“Well? What do you think?” He scanned my face as though trying to read my thoughts.
I glanced back at the house before nodding. “Yeah, it’s exactly as I imagined it would be.” I turned to my ten-month-old daughter who was strapped in her seat in the back of the car. “Look, Gracie, our new home.”
“I’m sure you’re going to love it here, Geri. The playground is just around the corner and there’s a...what are you laughing at?” He seemed offended.
“I’m laughing at you! You’re more excited than we are. Tell you what. How about we empty the car, then we can go for a walk, and you can show us in person?”
“What time will Simon and Kev get here with the truck? We don’t want to miss them.”
“I’ll call Simon and find out where they are, but knowing those two, they probably won’t rock up for hours yet. Plus, if they do get here and we’re out what do you think they’ll do—turn around and leave?” I laughed. “They’ll call us.”
“I guess.”
“Are you worried?”
“No.”
“Sexy James Dunn is flustered.”
“I am not flustered, you idiot.” He also laughed causing the deep grooves in his cheeks to crease even more. “Come on. This little one’s been stuck in that baby-seat long enough.”
“Shall we go and explore, Gracie?” I reached between the seats and unclipped her seat belt.
Grace giggled, delighted to finally be released from the restraints.
James climbed out of the car and stretched, yawning noisily.
Grace and I got out of the car just in time for me to catch a sneaky peek at James’ taut stomach as his tight grey T-shirt rode up mid-stretch.
He caught me looking and pulled it back down, smiling.
I wiggled my eyebrows at him suggestively.
“Saucy mare!” he growled.
“What?” I asked, shaking my head. I looked at Grace and shrugged. “We don’t know what the heck he’s talking about, do we, Gracie?”
“I can see what you’re thinking and it’s pure filth. Don’t let her corrupt you, princess.” He tweaked Grace’s nose. “Let’s get inside before your mummy gives the neighbours something to gossip about.”
I gave a throaty chuckle as I pulled the all-essential baby bag from the car. It contained everything from nappies, wipes and bottles, to sunscreen, Calpol and gripe water—not forgetting several outfits. James had laughed when he saw how much I’d packed for the journey. “We’re going a few hours up the road, not the other side of the world,” he’d teased.
Of course I argued. In reality, the bag had been opened only once the entire trip.
James loaded himself up with several cases and bags, then led the way, dumping the bags on the path beside the front step while he opened the emerald-green painted door.
“The gardens are overgrown,” he said, turning to pick up the bags. “It looks neglected from the road, as though nobody lives here.”
“Well, to be fair, nobody has lived here properly for almost a year.” I glanced around at the small, but overgrown garden. The path ran down the centre of the reasonably short lawn, and I guessed he must pay a contractor to keep that in order, but the borders had masses of weeds growing between the shrubs and bushes.
“Whose fault is that? I’ve been begging you to come for months.”
“You know very well why I couldn’t. Dad needed me.” My dad had hit rock bottom after losing my mum to brain cancer, but, thankfully, seemed much better lately.
“I know. I’m just teasing.”
“Anyway, it won’t take us long to whip this garden into some kind of shape.”
“You’ll have enough time on your hands while I’m earning us a living.”
“Oi, you! I’m not doing it on my own. Is this the only reason you brought me here? To clean up the house and gardens and wait on you hand and foot?”
“Would I?” he said, with a cheeky twinkle in his eye. He hefted the cases through the front door into the musty-smelling house.
I followed and dropped the bag just inside so I could explore.
James and I knew each other from school, but met up again after he returned to our home village to investigate a spate of rapes.
At the same time, I’d split with my husband and also returned to stay with my parents. I dated a few local men before we eventually got together. But, instead of coming back here, he chose to stay in Cumbria.
I’d been dreading the state of the house, but my first impressions were good ones. Clearly a single man had lived there, but it wouldn’t take much to turn the sparsely furnished rooms into a warm and inviting home. All it needed was a feminine touch here and there, a vase of flowers, some pictures on the walls, an ornament or two. Maybe, in a few weeks, I would broach the subject of brightening the place up with a lick of paint.
I found James in the kitchen. He’d opened the curtains and windows and the place seemed much better already.
“So? What’s the verdict?” he asked.
“Nice. I like it. We like it, don’t we, Gracie?” I bounced Grace on my hip and she chuckled. “I thought we could put her cot in the smallest room as it’s the furthest from the road. Is that okay?”
“Whatever you want is fine. The single bed in there isn’t much good anyway, so we can give it to a charity shop.”
“Oh, I don’t want you getting rid of anything. The cot could fit in there too.”
“Nonsense. It would be cramped. It’s not an issue. I promise.”
“Well, let’s leave it where it is for now. You never know. It may come in handy,” I said.
“Did you call Simon?”
No, not yet. Here, grab Missie-moo for a second while I find my phone.” I handed Grace to him and her arms and legs shot out together in an excited, dancelike movement as though she was doing star jumps. She adored her papa, as James was known to her, and vice versa.
I located my phone in the side pocket of the baby bag and hit redial.
“Hi, beautiful,” Simon said.
“We’ve arrived. How far away are you? We thought we might take Gracie for a little walk.”
“We stopped for breakfast at the services—you know the one with the most amazing farm shop? Kevin managed to get lost in it, so we’re at least an hour away.”
“Oh, great. We’ll be back by then.”
“Don’t go buying anything for lunch. We have heaps of stuff that will need eating.”
“Sounds good.”
“How’s my lovely daughter?” he asked.
“Remarkably well, to be honest. She slept most of the way.”
“And what about the house? Do you like it?”
“Yeah, it’s nice. Anyway, you’ll see for yourself soon enough.”
“Cool, see you then.”
Simon was my ex-husband and best friend. We split when I discovered he was gay and the months that followed were the most miserable of my life. Not because we weren’t married anymore, but because I missed my best friend so much. My mother’s illness and the surprise of little Gracie had managed to bring us all back together. Kevin was his partner, and they complemented each other perfectly. Now we were like a large extended family.
James and Grace were lying on the rug in front of the flash marble fire surround when I walked back through.
“They’re a while away yet and are bringing lunch, so should we go for that walk?”
We bundled Grace into her pushchair and covered her with a pink fleecy blanket. A cold breeze spoiled an otherwise perfect, sunny spring day.
I pulled a band from my wrist and tied my unruly mop of hair up. It had grown wild and much curlier since shaving it all off in support of my mum’s chemo treatment almost eighteen months ago, but it was in desperate need of styling.
Then we set off. James was in charge of the pushchair and I linked my arm through his.
“I can’t remember what made you move here,” I said.
“I got a job as an editor for a publishing company.”
“Oh, that’s right. Is that why you started writing your own books?”
“Partly. I’d always had a desire to write, and anything to do with true crime floated my boat. The editing job just made me realise the two could go together.”
“I love it when the universe maps things out for us.”
He glanced at me, his lip curled.
“Don’t look at me like that, cheeky! You know what I mean. Sometimes when things are meant to be, everything seems to push towards it.”
“I suppose. That’s how I feel about this place. I would have moved away once I left the job, if I had any other place to call home, that is. But Dad had already remarried and moved to Scotland and, since I don’t have any other family, I just stayed put. I’ve several good friends around here and figured it’s as good a place as any. But if you don’t like it, we’ll sell up and move back to Cumbria.”
“That would mean a lot of travelling for you. It’s not as if there are many crimes committed in the sleepy Cumbrian villages,” I said.
“Not many, but when there are they’re doozies!”
He was referring to the rapist in our quaint home village, who turned out to be Vinny, the local police officer and one of the men I’d had a fling with. He’d even tried to kidnap me and God only knows what else he would have done if given the chance.
We reached the end of the street and turned to the right.
“We’ll go this way today as there’s a playground and a superette where we can grab some bread and milk. The other way leads to the primary school and the day care nursery.”
“Okay.”
“Most things are within walking distance, but we should sort you out a car as soon as we can.”
“No hurry. I may not even need one. I’ve gone this far without, after mine went kaput.”
We arrived at the store and bought a few essentials. Then we crossed the road to the playground. Most things were for older children, but Grace loved the circular, lie-down swing. She laughed hysterically while James pushed her and made monkey noises the whole time. My stomach ached from laughing at them both.
“Hey, chimp, should we head back? Simon can’t be far away.”
Grace screamed blue murder when James took her off the swing, and she refused to get back into the pushchair, so he swung her up onto his shoulders which seemed to do the trick.
As we turned back onto the street, a scruffy old man almost slammed into me. He was dressed in a full-length dirty, grey coat, a dark green cap, and brown trousers that were much too long and had a three-inch fray trailing behind him.
The man muttered something and spat at my feet.