BONE BABY: chilling emotional suspense with a killer ending Page 2

  Now Phillip Barnstable seemed perfectly at ease with her. Times had certainly changed and of course it was good, it was wonderful. But just today Lily longed for the odd, scary thrill of living outside the mainstream the way it had been. She knew they’d been lucky. Because of their choice of careers and ultimately the people they mixed with, they hadn’t been harangued to any great degree and never felt in physical danger, and now, well now it was different.

  “I am correct, aren’t I, you never married or arranged a civil partnership?”

  Lily smiled and shook her head. “There didn’t seem much point. We had been together a long time. Since school.” She stopped, suddenly too tired to do this now, to be forced to talk about the things that had gone. She had more important things to do. She wanted to be home in the warm house with a cup of coffee – the slow tick of the long case clock the only sound. This office, with the telephones and the computers, doors opening and closing, and the people, it was all too much. She sighed.

  He moved on quickly. She imagined he would be challenged if she began to cry, but of course she wouldn’t do that.

  “So, I have had a look at things,” He lifted one of the file boxes a couple of inches and then replaced it on the desk. There were two, one with her name and the other for Charlotte Mary. “I think you’ve handled things well. The house is now entirely yours, of course, once the formalities are completed, but I think my predecessor helped you to secure that?”

  Lily inclined her head just once.

  The excitement of buying their own place had been wonderful, and she remembered their laughter as they slammed the front door behind them on the first day. There had been no furniture, but they had brought Champagne and glasses. Lily had run out to the car to bring in the travel rug and the cushion from the back seat. They had made love on the floor of the big front bedroom. Afterwards, wrapped in the plaid blanket, they watched the light change as day gave way to evening. It was a precious memory that filled her eyes with moisture, and she needed a cough before she could speak again.

  She straightened her shoulders. “Yes, we kept most things separate, we had our own bank accounts and so on. It was easier. Safer really.”

  He pursed his lips. It looked quite silly on his young face but she could see that over the years the small lines around his mouth would set as he became grey and dusty.

  “Quite.” He pulled out the envelope and extracted the pages of small type. “Mostly, I think this is just the way you would imagine. Of course, I will let you have your copy of this before you leave the office. She remembers a secretary with a small gift – I can deal with that if you wish?”

  Lily nodded wordlessly again. She hadn’t needed to come, had she? He could have sent the darned copy to her house and they could have spoken on the phone. She lifted her handbag from the chair beside her, held it on her lap as she slid forward on her seat. He took the hint.

  “Right, well we must move on, mustn’t we. You inherit what else there is. That will need to go to probate of course, but it’s a formality. There is the small matter of – ahem – disposal. She has asked that her ashes be spread in the cellar of your home.” He leaned forward. “I don’t know how you feel about that, whether you had discussed it. If you are not comfortable with that request there is no legal reason for you to comply. It is entirely up to yourself. It’s a little strange but perhaps it makes sense to you. I think that about covers things. There is a small box containing private papers also, not a bequest as such. She lodged it with us until such time as she died, but it is recorded as a joint asset. Do you want to take that with you or would you prefer me to send it by courier? It’s not very big.”

  It was an old-fashioned box with a tiny hasp and staple fastening which had been secured with a piece of cord sealed with wax.

  “I’ll take it with me now. I’m using a taxi.” Her hand, as she reached out, shook a little, and it was a struggle to keep her voice even as she gathered her things and stood in front of the desk. “Well, thank you for dealing with all of this. I’m sure it’s all fine. Could you just send the copy of her will to me, in the post?” She held out her hand. Her fingers trembled and she had so wanted it to be strong and steady. She turned and pulled open the heavy wooden door before he had a chance to dash across and usher her through. Without a glance left or right, she stalked through the reception area, and out into a grey, chilly day.

  There was no reason to believe that this would be anything important. Just a collection of old papers, photographs maybe. But why all the secrecy? Why hide them away? Could it be that Charlotte Mary had guessed what Lily would want to do? Had she, out of guilt or altruism, left the information? Oh, please let it be so. She turned away from the big, pale building and headed towards the railway station on The Hard, and a taxi.

  Chapter 5

  There was too much to do. She had brought the box into the house and placed it centrally on her desk. Of course, she could have snipped the little cord immediately, but she hoped that once opened it would fill her life. If the box had in it the information she wanted, then she needed to be ready to deal with whatever came next. Of course, it could all be wishful thinking but she had to clear the way so that there was no distraction. It had amused her friends, her family, this need to prepare and they had said it was Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, but it wasn’t. It was just the way she was.

  The wardrobes needed to be sorted first. Charlotte Mary had been taller, slimmer, always much more glamourous, and none of the expensive clothes would fit Lily’s spreading frame. So, the charity shops could have the lot, hats, bags, scarves. There was nowhere she would be going to dress up, no longer any need to be smart. She pushed it all into cardboard boxes and stacked them in the sun room.

  Once the cupboards and drawers were empty she brought her own things through. Twice she was overwhelmed with loss. It was true that her life hadn’t been what she had hoped. The last years had been a sort of a pantomime of happiness played out before an audience of old friends. There were times when she had come to hate the sound of Charlotte Mary’s strident voice, her bossy ways, her demands. There was, however, enough left of the old love, or at least the memory of it, to blow great gusts of grief across her soul.

  It took most of the day to reclaim the master bedroom. Mrs Fleming would come on Wednesday to clean, but anyway, Lily polished and hoovered the room, re-establishing ownership. Then her way was clear to begin the bigger task.

  It was late. She closed the curtains and made a cup of hot milk.

  She closed her eyes and went back in her mind to the sunny, bright morning when the nightmare began.

  * * *

  Lily had walked along the seafront. She paused as always in front of the war memorial, read the names and then gazed out over the water towards the forts, grey and unlikely in the sparkly water of the Solent. She had marched briskly through the rose garden, and then through a growing throng of trippers and holiday-makers. No point in living on the coast and not taking full advantage, she had said. But lately Charlotte Mary hadn’t wanted to join her, and if she was honest, Lily preferred the time alone, just an hour for peace and healing.

  When she turned the corner into their own street she noted the little car wasn’t parked at the kerb. Charlotte Mary hadn’t said anything about going out, but she had been in a strange mood for a couple of weeks now. Secretive and withdrawn.

  A quiver of unease turned Lily’s stomach. After the previous year, after that horrible time when she had discovered the great betrayal of the affair, she had lived with a low-grade dread. There had been tears and tantrums, things said and things thrown, and there had been regret and in the end the coming together. Forgiveness and promises and yet still, she hadn’t thought she would ever really be able to truly trust again.

  Of course, she could have left, struck out on her own, divided what there was of their material life and gone away. But she hadn’t. Cowardly and desperate, she had stayed and believed that surely one day she would find a way to
be happy again. But it hadn’t happened yet. Now with the car missing and the memories of phone calls cut short when she walked into the hallway, of papers stuffed hurriedly into the old brown briefcase, she remembered the feeling of insecurity and panicked.

  The house was silent, the old clock that had cost a fortune and they both loved, measured the quiet passing of the day. The tap in the kitchen dripped into the sink. Automatically Lily turned it on and then off again, Charlotte Mary had still not managed to master the knack of dealing with its odd little idiosyncrasy. They had been intending to get a plumber to look at it and it hadn’t happened. Not until the kitchen was upgraded years later. She walked into the dining room. In the middle of the dark oak dining table was a note.

  Had to go out. Will be back this afternoon with a wonderful surprise.

  X

  Lily conjured in her mind what she had done next. Partly reassured, she had turned back into the kitchen, laid a hand on the kettle and felt the warmth. There was a mug on the draining board sitting in a tiny pool of water. So, she hadn’t been gone long.

  What time was it when she came back? How could she remember that? With so much emotion, so much fear and panic, how could she ever remember?

  It had been a few hours, long enough for Lily to do the chores, prepare for the coming week and put together food for the evening.

  She heard the car, the slam of its door, but hadn’t gone to greet her partner. She was sulking. A day on her own lost in emptiness, and work in the morning with only a dull weekend with a bit of cleaning to look back on.

  She had waited and wondered why it was taking so long, and eventually walked to the window and lifted the net curtains. She had seen the gate swinging closed and heard Charlotte Mary’s key in the lock.

  She had gone through to the hall as the door opened and their lives changed forever. The past becoming a different world in the blink of an eye.

  Chapter 6

  At first, it had looked just like bulky shopping. As she pushed into the hallway, closing the door with her behind, Charlotte Mary’s arms had been full. A bulging bag dangled from one hand, and in the other she held a bundle of what, at a glance, appeared to be towels. She had dropped the bag to the floor and turned to where Lily stood, at the entrance to the lounge.

  Her eyes were brimming with excitement, her generous mouth smiling broadly. She held the bundle in both arms, lowered her face to it for a moment, and then with a sort of flourish held it out before her.

  For an instant Lily had thought a puppy, a kitten perhaps, and her heart had sunk. More work, more cleaning up to do. But Charlotte Mary’s beam of pure joy made the mundane reaction seem unworthy. She forced her face into an enquiring look, tipping her head to one side. Moving across the carpet she murmured, already adjusting her voice to the presence of a small animal, “Now, then. What’s this? What have we got here?” And then she had been close enough to see, and she had cried out in shock, her hands flying to cover her mouth. “What the hell, Charlotte?”

  The baby was sleeping. It moved a little at the sudden noise and Charlotte Mary began to rock, gentle but awkward, the movement unfamiliar to her. “Shh, shh. He’s asleep.”

  By now Lily was standing close enough to touch the tiny fingers, to stroke the soft little cheek. She smiled down at him. “Oh, Charlotte. Whose is this? Why have you got him? I wish you’d said, I would have made sure the house was warmer. Why didn’t you take me with you? What a little treasure. How long is he staying? Whose is he?”

  * * *

  Sitting in the living room, the colour beginning to leach from the day, she could hear the tick of the clock. It was as if she was back there, in that moment, still waiting for the answers to her questions. Still waiting for her life to be turned on its head, never to be righted again.

  She shuddered and swallowed down a sob. In many ways, it had already been too late, but if she had been stronger, more secure, and if the instant of absolute love for the tiny boy hadn’t taken her quite so much by surprise, that would have been the moment to save them. To save them all.

  * * *

  “He’s ours. I got him for us.”

  “What? What on earth do you mean? Don’t be so silly. Who is he? Where did he come from?”

  “I don’t know who he is. Not yet. I thought maybe Peter, but we’ll have to decide. There’s time though, we ought to register him but that’s a bit complicated for the moment – soon though, and I thought we could hyphenate. What do you think of Peter Stone-Bowers? I think that flows better than Bowers-Stone, though that does have a lovely feel to it as well. But we must talk about it. Let’s get organised. He’ll be waking up soon, and he’ll need a bottle.”

  In the maelstrom of disbelief, Lily was aware of Charlotte Mary pointing with her foot towards the bag on the floor. “All the stuff is in there. I don’t think I forgot anything, but we have to sterilize the bottles. I think it takes a set amount of time. There are some nappies and things as well.”

  “No, no, wait. Just stop for a minute. What are you talking about? What do you mean he’s ours? You’re not making sense.”

  The child moved again and made a small noise.

  “Hush now, Lily, you’ll frighten him. Look, take him. I’ll do the other stuff, the bottle and what have you. I’ve been told how. Go on, take him. Go through to the living room and cuddle him for a while. You’re going to love him. Isn’t he perfect? Here.” She held him out, a gift, an offering. “Go on, take him while I sort us out.”

  Lily recalled backing away, shaking her head, trying to organise her thoughts. “Where did he come from, Charlotte? Who does he belong to?”

  “I’ve told you, he’s ours. I arranged it all.”

  “Oh God, you didn’t steal him? Tell me you haven’t taken him!”

  “Of course I haven’t.” There had been a flash of anger, gentled by the need to keep the noise to a minimum, to keep the atmosphere calm for the baby. “What do you take me for? I’m not going to tell you. I am sworn to secrecy. You must see that. But I wanted something for us. To bring us back together and it’s going to be such fun. Don’t worry, I’ve sorted everything out.”

  “How do you mean, what have you sorted out? I can’t take this in. What on earth have you done?”

  She had followed into the living room and watched as Charlotte Mary had made a sort of nest on the settee, lining up the cushions along the edge, and then laying the little boy in the space in the middle. She adjusted the blankets and stroked his cheek.

  “Now then, I realise it’s a surprise, but I knew you’d try to stop me and there’s no need. This is going to be so good for us, don’t you see? It makes us into a proper family. I know there’ll be complications, I know we’re going to have to get our stories straight and what have you, but we can do that. We can do anything, you know that, with me you can do anything. Whatever we want, we can have. Look how we are here. Look how we have this house, this life. There’s no reason for us not to have this as well. I’ve been thinking about it forever, since last year, that nastiness, my mistake. It’s so obvious. We are a proper family now, Charlotte, Lily and Peter.”

  “No, no, this is madness, you’ve lost your mind. What are you thinking?”

  But it had been to no avail and the smell of him, the sight of him so vulnerable amongst the cushions, his tiny fist curled against his cheek had melted her heart. The next words had sealed their fate. “She didn’t want him, you see. His mummy didn’t want him, so I have brought him home. I had to wait a while and it’s been so hard keeping it a secret, but now he’s here and he’s ours.” She had wrapped her arms around Lily and rocked with her just as she had in the hallway cradling the baby. “Oh, Lily, I do love you and this is going to be perfect. Just trust me and it’ll be perfect.”

  * * *

  Lily sighed. From the distance of years, it was all so obvious what she should have done. She should have been stronger, should have insisted on knowing all the ins and outs of the terrible business. But she hadn’t
, she had leaned into the warm, strange, baby scent that lingered on Charlotte Mary’s clothes and closed her eyes and given in, yet again.

  Chapter 7

  Lily had always been able to remember the first time she held him. The strange weight, not heavy but not as light as the kitchen scales told them he was. She hadn’t been afraid, not the way she heard other people were afraid. She never thought she would hurt him, never worried that she might drop him, for she knew from the first moments that she would protect him with her life. Would have done, if it had been asked of her. But it wasn’t. That wasn’t to be the sacrifice.

  Charlotte Mary had made his feed and insisted that Lily give the bottle to him. She knew of course that holding Peter, and giving him food, was the way to make her bond with him, and it worked.

  As the boy had taken the milk, Charlotte Mary made them tea and then sat on the settee, and reached now and again, touched his feet, his fingers, his face. “I have ordered some things, from Knight and Lee. They won’t come until tomorrow. Just a cot for him, some bedding and more nappies. I am amazed at how much you have to have. Later we’ll need a pram to take him for walks. Then a highchair and, oh, all manner of things. Tonight, we can make a bed in the big laundry basket.” They had grinned at the idea, and the big wicker basket had been perfect, lined with blankets and resting on the dresser.

  “How do you know? How did you find out what we need?”