Beth returned home numb, exhausted. On the kitchen table she saw the copy of the local paper Sami had brought in that morning. She picked it up, expecting to read about one the usual rows about whether to build a fixed link to the island or how to fulfil the latest quota of new houses. She was not prepared for what faced her. Smiling at her on the front page was Kathleen, a copy of one of Patrick’s photos taken in the garden of their old home, the hens in the background. ‘Much loved local woman dies in tragic cliff death’. The whole page was given over to Kathleen’s life and death.
Shaking, Beth sat down and read the article. It was so strange: she had to keep reminding herself this was her friend they were writing about. There were warm words from people Kathleen had worked with, a few from Patrick. The detective inspector overseeing the case spoke briefly, saying that Kathleen’s death was being treated as ‘an unexplained death, but at present it appeared to be a tragic accident’.
It was the next part that was news to Beth. ‘Early on the morning the victim died, close to the house, a silver car was seen parked between 6.50 and 7 a.m. The car was parked off road, in the entrance to a house opposite. If you have any information, please contact us on this number—’
Beth reread the sentence: a car parked by Kathleen and Patrick’s house at the time she died? Her heart beat faster. A car, why would they be asking about a car? Did anyone who had been there on Sunday evening have a silver car? Of course, her car was silver but neither Sami, William, Imogen or Alex had a silver car, and Patrick’s had been in the garage.
Obviously a different car could have parked close by in all manner of places but this showed that the police were still asking questions. The matters of the phone, the hens, and now the car all stacked up. Despite Sean’s reassurances, the police believed that there were at least some reasons to suspect someone had been involved in Kathleen’s death. Beth had a moment wondering if she should be sharing what she knew with the police but dismissed it immediately. She had to know more about Sami and Kathleen before she did anything.
Ollie, as always, seemed to sense she was unhappy and came and sat next to her. ‘I think I’d better at least pretend to do some weeding. I’ll go mad just sitting in here,’ she said to him. He followed her outside. Ollie rolled around on the grass, wonderfully at peace with his existence.
When Sami arrived home from work, he looked exhausted. He stood, half turned back to the back door.
‘Hi. So, how did Layla get on with her exams? How did you get on with Patrick?’ he asked.
‘I have no idea how Layla got on. As for Patrick’s—’ she paused, wiped the mud off her hands. Sami was clearly impatient to go up and change out of his ‘work clothes’ and so she said, ‘It went OK.’ Sami headed upstairs.
Beth started to empty the dishwasher but decided no, she had to talk to Sami. They couldn’t go out this evening acting as if nothing was wrong. She couldn’t face asking him about his relationship with Kathleen, but there was something she could ask him. How he answered may well give her the answers she needed. Before she could change her mind, Beth ran upstairs, went into their bedroom, and closed the door behind her.
‘Sami, I need to ask you something,’ she blurted out. ‘Was Kathleen pregnant?’
Sami did a long hard blink, and sat on the edge of the bed loosening his tie. ‘Why do you ask that?’
Beth told him about the receipt.
‘That doesn’t mean anything.’
‘Kathleen bought a pregnancy testing kit. She thought she was pregnant. I think that matters. Has this anything to do with her being in hospital?’
‘Beth, stop pushing me about all this. It doesn’t matter any more.’
‘It does. Why are you keeping secrets from me?’
‘Beth, what has got into you? I made a promise not to tell anyone certain things. You have to respect that.’
‘But—’
‘No, enough.’ He stood up. ‘Now, can we have a decent night out at this St Patrick’s meal without you endlessly speculating about Kathleen?’
He opened the bedroom door, anxious to get away, but she said, ‘Did you see all that stuff about a silver car seen by Kathleen’s house the time she died?’
He turned. ‘It doesn’t mean anything. I don’t want to talk about it.’
‘You don’t want to talk to me about a lot of things, do you?’ she said quietly.
Sami turned to face her. They stood, like High Noon, waiting to see who would be the first to draw their gun.
Beth was breathing fast, close to tears. From the corner of her eye she saw Layla come out of her room. Sami took the opportunity to escape downstairs.
‘I didn’t realise you were back. How did it go?’ Beth asked Layla.
Layla shrugged, looked at the floor.
‘It’s the St Patrick’s day meal this evening.’
‘Oh crap.’ Layla responded by going back into her room, and slammed the door.
‘Don’t be so rude,’ Beth shouted at the door. ‘I wish someone in this house would talk to me like I’m a human being.’
There was, of course, no answer. Beth went back into her room, changed into the new dress she’d been saving in her wardrobe, brushed her hair, applied some makeup, and added her favourite earrings.
Sami came in, and glanced at her. ‘You’re not going to be warm enough in that,’ was his only comment. Beth scowled, grabbed a cardigan and dragged it on.
They walked down the street in silence, Adam and Layla lagging behind.
For the second night running Beth walked into the restaurant. Gemma had done well, having decorated the room with green bunting and shamrocks and put on a special menu that was obviously proving popular.
Only Alex was there when they arrived, with a glass of red wine in front of him. Beth went to sit next to him, realising that Gemma had given them the same circular table as the year before. Alex hadn’t been there, of course. In fact, he was sitting where Kathleen had. Tonight, the evening sun shone a reddish beam on to the table, the colour of Kathleen’s hair, and it felt, in a way, that Kathleen was there with them. Sami said he’d go and get drinks. Adam and Layla sat as far away from their parents as they could.
‘You already know Adam—’ said Beth.
‘Of course. He’s a great help at the pharmacy.’
Beth grinned. ‘Good, and this is my daughter, Layla.’
‘I hear you’re very musical,’ said Alex.
‘I do like other things as well,’ said Layla pointedly. ‘How are you finding living on the island? Must be so boring after London.’
‘No. I enjoy cycling, and going to the beach.’
‘You should go to some of the West Wight beaches, look for fossils,’ said Layla. ‘Me and Mum used to do it all the time.’
Beth was relieved to see her daughter chatting pleasantly. She noticed a book on the table next to Alex. ‘Brought some light reading with you?’
He smiled. ‘Imogen and I are swapping books again. I went to the library after work today and borrowed some Tennyson poems.’
‘Good. It’s a great library. I took the kids a lot when they were little.’
Sami returned with a tray of drinks, and put them down without speaking. Beth wasn’t sure if Alex noticed the tension but, if he did, he politely ignored it.
Imogen, William and Elsa finally arrived, with the rushed air of busy people. Beth was surprised to see Conor come in as well. He made a beeline for Layla. As it was a set menu, they all settled down to eat their steak and Guinness pie, and Irish apple cake. Beth chatted to Alex and found it calming to talk books and walks. Sami stayed quiet, only occasionally talking to Imogen or William.
At the end of the meal William went to the bar and returned with a bottle of Irish whisky, and small glasses. He poured everyone except Sami a glass, including the teens.
‘Let us raise our glasses in memory of our beloved friend, work colleague, and mother, Kathleen.’
Beth raised her glass and then sipped the drink. She wasn’t used to spirits, but her Gran had been a whisky lover and she knew she liked the taste.
‘Have another,’ said William leaning in front of Sami. ‘You look like you need it tonight.’
She ignored the scowl from Sami and held out her glass. It went down easily and, on top of the glasses of wine she’d already had, she began to feel light-headed, numb. Beth didn’t care: it was a relief to be free of the nagging pain and unhappiness she had been feeling.
There was a lull in the conversation when Conor said, ‘Anyone see in the paper about the silver car then?’ There were awkward murmurs, but everyone occupied themselves with their drinks or food. ‘It means the police think someone could have been out there with Mum, could have killed her. You can’t all ignore that. You all say how much you loved Mum, so if some bastard went out and killed her, you must care about it.’ His voice was hard, menacing. He turned to Beth. ‘Layla said you told Sami you were worried. Did you?’
‘Conor, leave this,’ said William.
‘But you did say that?’ Conor repeated to Beth.
Everyone turned to her. Beth could feel her face burning. She could deny it all, side with her friends rather than this volatile young man, and maybe a few weeks ago she would have done. But things had changed. Beth looked at Conor, and for the first time she realised he had his mother’s eyes, the same deep grey pools, and behind the bluster she saw just how unhappy he was. She also knew that, for all the mixed emotion she felt towards Kathleen at that moment, she had to speak out.
‘Conor’s right to ask questions,’ she said, her voice shaking. ‘The police are. It’s not just the car. They don’t know where her mobile is or the headphones; they should have been with her. Also, why were the hens out? They know that’s not right. We all know how much Kathleen loved them. She’d never have let them out when the fence was down. The police are clearly not certain Kathleen’s death was an accident.’
‘Of course they are,’ said William. ‘This is just covering the bases. I spoke to them. They think it was an accident.’
‘That is what they say to us, but I don’t think it’s what they really think. This car proves it.’
‘This is police business. It’s nothing to do with us,’ said Sami, firmly reaching out and tugging gently on Beth’s arm.
‘Get off me,’ she shouted. ‘Stop telling me what to do. What are you covering up?’
William coughed. ‘I think, Beth, it would be better to leave all this now.’
Beth looked at their faces, one by one, met their eyes. What she saw shocked her. It wasn’t simply that they wanted her to shut up. She saw hostility and fear, and her heart ached. Part of her desperately wanted to appease them all, apologise, back track. But that beam of light, now dispersed into a gentler glow over the table, reminded her of Kathleen, and she couldn’t deny her.
‘Why do you all want me to be quiet? What are you frightened of? Is it because Kathleen was speaking the truth when she said one of you was threatening to ruin her?’
‘What do you mean, threatening her?’ shouted Conor. ‘What did Mum say to you? Who was it?’
The restaurant fell silent, as people stopped talking out of embarrassment and curiosity. Only the noise of crockery, and the distant laughter from the bar filled the vacuum.
Beth steadied herself, but suddenly felt cold, sober. ‘I’m sorry, Conor, but your mother told me she’d made a mistake, that someone was using it to stop her from exposing what they’d done.’
‘What they’d done?’ Conor demanded.
‘Your mother knew something this person had done, something terrible.’
‘But who was it?’ shouted Conor.
Beth looked around the table. Everyone was looking at her now. ‘Kathleen said it was someone who was there that night. She also said she was going to own up to everything, expose this person. She was very scared. They were desperate for her to keep quiet. The next day she died.’
Conor slammed down his glass. ‘You’re saying someone here killed my Mum?’
Sami intervened. ‘No one is saying that.’
Beth suddenly felt dizzy and sick. She couldn’t speak. Imogen turned to Conor, and spoke in measured ‘teacher’ tones. ‘Your mother was a special person, but she was prone to be a bit dramatic. She exaggerated things; that was all.’ Imogen then looked over at her. ‘Beth, it’s been hard for us all. You two were close, but you need to stop going over and over things. Leave things be now.’
Beth looked over, bleary eyed, at Imogen. ‘I wish I could. I’m so tired. I don’t want you all to hate me, but I have to fight for her. I owe it to her. I can’t give up.’ Beth covered her face with her hands and started to sob helplessly.
Sami stood up. ‘Time to call it a night, I think. This evening’s meal is on me.’ There were shouts of protest, but he held his hand up. ‘No, seriously. I want to do this.’
There were mumbled thanks but everyone seemed eager to leave. Sami went to the bar and then the four of them walked back up the road.
‘Dad, you’d better hold onto Mum,’ said Layla. ‘She’s pretty pissed. I’ve never seen her like this.’
When they went to bed, Beth lay on her back, her head spinning.
‘Beth, this has to stop. You actually said one of our friends had been threatening Kathleen. Good God, you practically accused them of murder. I say “our friends” but as I was one of the people there on the Sunday maybe you even include me. Remember, Beth, relationships that have taken years to build can be destroyed overnight. You need to be very careful.’
Sami switched off the light and Beth turned over. Tears ran onto her pillow. What he said frightened her: he was right. She knew that once a group of people all look back at you, united with the same contempt, you are well on your way to being an outsider. Beth cuddled her pillow. What was she going to do? She’d known it would be hard, but she had never thought this fight would be a choice between Kathleen and the life she knew.