Living in the Shadows (23 page)

Linda came to the back door. ‘Tea?’ She lifted a mug.

Mary nodded. ‘Please.’ She kept her voice low; she didn’t want to wake Peter. And it was better that Richard didn’t hear what she and Linda had to talk about.

She put the shears inside the door of the small garden shed, throwing down her gloves next to them.

When her niece finally walked along the path towards the bench on the small patch of lawn, Mary had formed the questions in her mind. She shielded her eyes against the low sun and smiled as she took the tea and leaned back. ‘Sorry about yesterday, love,’ she said.

‘Don’t worry about it, Auntie, I could tell it was a shock. And I know how I felt when I found out.’

‘You know then?’

‘About who he is? Yes. I think I almost knew it the first time I saw him at the hospital. Well, I realised he scared me for some reason and eventually I worked out why.’

‘No, I mean do you know
all
of it?’ Mary held the mug near her chin, breathing in the steam, watching tea-leaves floating on the surface. Her attention was pulled back by Linda’s quiet words.

‘Mum and Dad told me. I don’t know if it was everything, but enough to know there could be trouble.’ Linda took a tentative sip of the hot tea and grimaced as it burnt her lips. She balanced the mug on the arm of the bench. ‘Not just for Richard and Karen, for all of us. She’s staying with Jackie by the way … Karen I mean. She’s left home.’

‘Oh good grief, it gets worse.’ Mary couldn’t stop the words. ‘Okay.’ She looked towards the house. Still no sign of anyone stirring. ‘You tell me what you know … and I’ll fill in the rest.’ Now she’d decided what to do, maybe she could think of her next step. For now, her anxiety about Victoria’s whereabouts would have to be pushed to the back of her mind. For now, it was Richard she needed to protect.

By the time Linda had finished there was little that Mary needed to add. What she did say involved Linda’s gran. ‘What did Nelly say when you first told her about seeing George at the hospital?’

‘Nothing. But I saw a change in her,’ Linda said. ‘I’d told her that one of the husbands was horrible and he scared me.’ She gave a quiet chuckle. ‘You know what Gran’s like, I think she was ready to go in guns blazing. But when I described him … when I said what he looked like, she got upset. And then she wouldn’t tell me why. She said I had to ask Mum and Dad.’

‘I don’t want you to ever blame your gran for not telling you.’

‘I don’t.’ Linda said. ‘She told me a long time ago that Mum didn’t want her talking about her family…’

‘She did.’ Mary chewed on the inside of her cheek, waiting, feeling the change in the air as the sun broke through the mist.

‘I didn’t understand … then … but Gran seemed okay with it, so I let it go.’ Linda looked down, picked at her thumbnail. ‘I understand now…’ she glanced up at Mary. ‘For her own son to do that … she must have always felt so bad.’ Linda closed her eyes. ‘Poor Gran.’

‘You’re a good girl, Linda.’ Mary hugged her. ‘You’ve always understood how other people feel.’ Unlike Victoria, lost in her world of grievances. ‘So you know … that it shouldn’t have been you … that he kidnapped … that he took you by mistake …?’

‘That it should have been Jackie, you mean?’ Linda said. ‘Yes, they told me that as well.’

Mary sighed. ‘It’s a bad business all round.’ She leaned back against the bench, leaving her arm across Linda’s shoulder. Somewhere in the village a dog barked, followed by a volley of answering barks from other dogs.

‘Yes…’ Linda’s voice trailed away.

She must know what Frank did, Mary thought. I should say something. But what if she doesn’t? What if I tell her and she didn’t know? ‘What is it, Linda?’

Linda put her hands in her lap, twisted her fingers. ‘I’ve always known who my real father was, Auntie Mary. Mum and Dad have always been honest about that.’ She sighed. ‘I mean, I knew he was called Frank and he was Gran’s eldest son.’ She glanced up and smiled at Mary. ‘I don’t know how she would have explained Gran to me otherwise.’

Mary returned the smile but she felt sick; she knew what was coming. The open door of the greenhouses swung gently, every now and then the glass catching the glint of the sun. ‘I’ll just close—’ she’d taken her arm off Linda’s shoulders and almost pushed herself up from the bench when Linda’s words stopped her.

‘I didn’t know what he’d done to you, Auntie.’ Linda’s face had taken on an odd colour. She looked queasy.

I wonder if I look as bad as she does. The thought ran through Mary’s mind as her legs gave way. ‘Oh.’ It was all she could say. She closed her eyes, sat down on the bench. Clasping Linda’s hands in hers, she whispered, ‘It was a lifetime ago, love. I don’t think about it much any more.’ She fought against the panic. Everything about her life that she’d carefully built up since that day was threatening to crumble in the effort of protecting Linda. Would they ever escape from the evil of the Shuttleworth brothers?

A seagull startled her as it landed with a screech and flurry on the path and strutted around, its yellow eyes watching them.

A thought made Mary shiver; she didn’t want the relationship between Nelly and Linda to be ruined. ‘It was never your gran’s fault. Nothing either of her sons did was her fault. She thinks the world of you, you know.’

‘I know, Auntie Mary.’

Mary sighed. ‘And I also know she feels she needs to make it up to both of us for what they did. Frank to me and George to you,’ she added. ‘She’ll never forgive herself for giving George an alibi. She must feel even worse now. If she’d given him up to the police there’s no way we be in this situation. Richard would probably never have met Karen.’

‘But, in a way, that would be a shame, Auntie Mary.’

‘I suppose.’ Or would it? They’d only known each other a couple of weeks. Plenty of time for mending broken hearts. There was little remorse in Mary at the thought; to have George Shuttleworth back in their lives was dragging up horrendous memories she’d believed they’d left behind forever.

They didn’t hear the sound of Richard’s footsteps.

‘That was quite a story, Lin.’ The words might have been addressed to her, but Richard’s eyes, cold and resentful, were fixed on his mother. ‘When were you going to tell me?’

The directness of his question took Mary aback. He couldn’t possibly have heard.

He answered her unspoken question. ‘Finally came in useful being deaf. I was watching you from my window.’ He tapped his mouth. ‘I can lip-read – remember?’

Chapter 46: Jacqueline Howarth

Manchester: Wednesday, October 1st

‘I won’t come in, thank you very much, Jacqueline.’ Jean’s clipped tones echoed in the communal hallway outside Jackie’s flat.

‘Why not?’

‘There’s no need for me to come in.’

‘Don’t be daft.’ Jackie stepped back and opened the door wider.

‘I’ve only come to give you a message from your father. From your father and me,’ Jean corrected herself.

‘Well, I’m not standing here while you do.’ It was clear her mother had come to pick a fight and Jackie had a fair idea what it was about. ‘Either you come in or …’ She let the rest of the sentence hang in the air.

Jean’s face reddened, the lines around her pursed mouth deepened. She took one step inside and moved so Jackie could close the door. Her eyes slid to one side, taking in Nicki but not acknowledging her.

‘Hello, Mrs. Howarth.’

Jean ignored her. When she began talking it was evident she’d prepared her speech. ‘You’re not to come to the house. Your father… We don’t want to see you again until you give up this disgusting notion about her.’ She tilted her head in Nicki’s direction but still didn’t look at her.

Jackie felt her girlfriend’s closeness before her arm came around her waist. She saw the repulsion that flickered over her mother’s face. It hurt and angered her. She raised her eyebrows, challenging her mother to speak.

‘As I said to your father, this has nothing to do with my side of the family.’ Flecks of spittle escaped with the words. ‘Nothing. This … this grossness has to be something to do with the Howarths, something wrong, something inherited from his side. Something that showed up first in his brother, Tom—’

‘My God, Mother, you’re unbelievable.’

Jean continued her tirade without a pause. ‘
He
had an unnatural relationship with another man. There was something wrong with him and it’s the same with you. It was revolting then and it’s equally disgusting now, with you and her. Disgusting.’

‘I think you should leave, Mrs Howarth.’ Nicki’s voice was even but Jackie knew the resentment equalled hers. She leaned against her.

Jean stiffened and half-turned her back to Nicki. ‘I’ve had my say; you know now how I … we feel about all this.’ She said to Jackie, fluttering a dismissive hand, ‘It’s easily solved, Jacqueline. So what are you going to do?’

‘I’m going to tell you to piss off, Mother. Now. Before I slap you.’

Nicki pressed her mouth close to Jackie’s ear. ‘Don’t lower yourself, sweetheart.’

Jean’s lips curled. ‘You both need to see a doctor.’

‘Get out!’ Jackie flung the door open. ‘Now.’

Jean turned but then stopped. ‘Good grief, there are three of you.’

Jackie glanced behind her. Karen was by the spare-bedroom door, her hand to her mouth.

The urge to hit her mother was almost overwhelming; Jackie shifted forwards but Nicki’s grip on her arm intensified as she spoke. ‘Your job?’ The two small words instantly calmed Jackie; it wasn’t worth losing the career she loved.

‘Who’s that?’ Jean peered over the top of her glasses at Karen. ‘Another one?’

A sudden thought made Jackie take in a long pull of air into her lungs. Knowing who Karen was would devastate her mother. George Shuttleworth was as much an enemy of her parents as the rest of the family. More so for her father.

And it wasn’t something her mother would keep to herself; the first thing her mother would do when she got home would be, without any doubt, to tell him. And a whole new can of worms would be instantly opened once her father knew about it. She felt the old chill of apprehension; the last thing she wanted was him storming round to the flat.

So she smiled and said, ‘What do you think?’ Put that in your pipe and smoke it, Jackie thought, as she once heard Auntie Mary say.

Jean’s face drained of colour.

‘I can tell you’re shocked, Mrs Howarth,’ Nicki said, barely hiding a smile. ‘If you’d like to sit down, I’ll make a cup of tea and Jackie can explain.’

Jean had quickly recovered. For the first time she looked in the direction of Jackie’s girlfriend, her eyes travelled from the tall woman’s head to her feet and back again. Her tone was cold. ‘You know nothing about me, madam. Nothing. And no, I won’t sit down.’ She faced Jackie. ‘I won’t spend another minute in this place.’

‘So?’ Jackie indicated the door with her head. She crossed her arms to hide the shaking; she wouldn’t give her mother the satisfaction of knowing how upset she was.

‘I won’t come here again. Understand?’

Jackie let the silence answer for her.

‘And
you
won’t come to our house.’

This time Jackie spoke through the surge of anger and distress. ‘No, I won’t. And you can tell my father you’ve successfully passed on his message. After all these years he still controls you, Mother. My God, I feel sorry for you.’

She didn’t miss the hurt that flashed across Jean’s face and felt wretched as she watched her mother leave. But long afterwards, Jean’s last words resounded in Jackie’s head.

‘From now on, until you stop this revolting association with that woman, you’re dead to us.’

Chapter 47: Mary Schormann

Llamroth, morning: Thursday, October 2nd

Mary lined the basin with the suet pastry and scooped in the mixture of steak and kidney and gravy. She felt rather than saw Richard’s presence. When she glanced up he was standing by the door, his hands tucked into his jeans pockets.

‘You all right, love?’ Mary kept her voice casual, though the pulse in her neck throbbed. He’d barely spoken to her since Tuesday. Waiting for his response, she pretended to concentrate on rolling out the rest of the pastry and laying it on top of the meat, trimming the remainder with a small knife.

He didn’t answer.

Mary sighed. ‘Richard, I know it must have been an awful, horrible shock for you. And I am so sorry you had to find out like that. But I was going to tell you—’

‘When?’

‘Before you went back up north, honestly; I wouldn’t have let you go without you knowing everything. I suppose I thought we could have a talk—’

‘A talk?’ There was quick anger in his voice. He stared at her. ‘I can’t believe you’ve just said that.’

‘When it was the right time.’ She ended lamely, accepting his resentment. She looked towards the back door. The transistor radio was still playing music in the greenhouse. Please, Peter, don’t come in yet, she prayed.

‘Don’t you think the right time should have been years ago?’

‘No. That time, when all that happened, it’s nothing to do with us as a family.’

He closed his eyes, shaking his head, taking long steady breaths through his nose. Mary could tell he was trying to calm himself.

‘It had everything to do with Linda and even she wasn’t told.’ His voice was even.

‘We thought … we hoped, she’d forgotten.’

‘Being kidnapped?’ his voice rose again. ‘Come off it, Mum.’

Mary put the basin down and rested the flat of her hands on the table. She was tempted to retort, to say that if he hadn’t met Karen, the past would have stayed in the past. But she couldn’t; that would be totally unfair. And untrue. Linda would still have come across George Shuttleworth in the hospital and it hadn’t taken long for her to put two and two together by all accounts. So all she said was, ‘I’m sorry, love.’

‘Does Dad know? About Karen, I mean. Not all the … other stuff.’

‘Of course he knows what happened then. But no.’ She spoke sharper than she meant to. Softening her tone she said, ‘No, he doesn’t know about Karen. And I don’t want him to. Not yet anyway.’