25

When they arrived home, Sami received a text from Patrick. The police had said he could arrange the funeral: it would be in two weeks’ time.

Beth phoned Patrick and asked if there was anything he would like her to do for the funeral. He asked if she could do a reading and maybe put together some pictures that would remind people of Kathleen.

Beth enjoyed searching through her old albums, and once more promised she would print off the latest ones on the computer. There was something special about flicking through an album. She had photographs of Kathleen and her having meals out, going over to Southampton to a show, some of Kathleen with the staff from the pharmacy at the Christmas dos. Some of her favourite ones were of Kathleen in her old garden with the hens and her showing Adam and Layla how to hold them and collect the eggs. There were also trips to the zoo, the beach, the woods. So many good times she’d forgotten, and they warmed her. However, she then found some of everybody at various St Patrick’s Day meals and they were less comfortable: all the usual group, sat around laughing. It hurt to look at those, hard to imagine a time of such innocence. Beth didn’t include them in the montage she made for Patrick.

The day of the funeral came, grey and overcast. The funeral was to be held at the church in the village that Beth sometimes went to on a Sunday. The coffin would be taken straight from the undertakers to the church.

As Beth walked into the church with the family, gentle Irish folk music played. The church was filled with white Easter lilies. It was crowded with people from the village and relatives from Ireland. At the front was Patrick, white and tense, and Conor, looking red and angry. Behind them was a man and two women who Beth, judging by their likeness to Kathleen, guessed were Kathleen’s mother and sister.

The service began with someone from the church choir singing ‘Do not be afraid’. Beth sat waiting to do her reading. She felt more nervous than she had expected to and, as she walked down the aisle, which seemed to have doubled in length, all she could hear was her heels clipping loudly on the stone floor.

From the lectern, she began her reading from a Catholic Bible.

‘The Lord is my Shepherd; I shall not want. He makes me lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside still waters. He restores my soul. He leads me in right paths for His Name's sake. Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I fear no evil.’

The words made Beth pause. Her voice began to shake, and tears started to fall down her cheeks. Her friend had been in a dark valley, but there had been no comfort. Nothing had made sense, she’d said to Angela. Who had made her so desperately unhappy and afraid? Who down there was acting a part? Beth looked up from the Bible. Through eyes blurred with tears, she scanned the congregation. Patrick, William, Imogen, Alex, Sami, all looking back at her, waiting for her. They looked at her anxiously. What did they think she was going to say? She felt ashamed of her tears but, no, why weren’t they crying?

The vicar coughed. Beth looked over. Startled back to her task, she continued the reading. When she had finished, Beth returned to her seat. She felt as if the church sighed with relief. Feeling hot and flustered, she took off her jacket.

Patrick took her place at the lectern. He spoke movingly about the time he met Kathleen, how he loved her, how he never understood why someone so beautiful fell for him. His voice broke, but he continued. She shouldn’t have died: it was too soon, she had so much left to give.

Kathleen’s mother talked about her daughter in a gentle, wistful way. Kathleen’s sister, Roisin, was very different. Her voice was similar to Kathleen’s but there was a sharper edge to it. There was also none of the fragility of Kathleen about her. Roisin was a broad, solid framed woman, her hair red but cut in a short, rather severe bob. For all that, however, each carefully chosen word was full of pain and loss. ‘I remember the day my mother brought Kathleen home, holding her tiny hand. Our closest moments were in the dark, after my parents put the lights out. We could tell from the sound of the other’s breath how they were feeling. If one of us was sad, without speaking, we would reach out and hold hands. We were sisters,’ Roisin looked up, tears on her cheeks, ‘and now she’s gone. When I reach out, her hand won’t be there. I will never hold her hand again.’

Beth felt her heart tighten with emotion, watched as Roisin walked slowly back to her seat.

At the end of the service a haunting Irish song was sung, ‘I’ll take you home again, Kathleen’, after which there was an eerie silence, followed by a collective sigh of relief.

Kathleen’s body was to be buried in the church graveyard and the congregation followed the coffin outside. It was the first time Beth had attended a burial. As she was walking out of the church, Alex approached, holding out her jacket. As she took it from him, she noticed his eyes were red and his hands shaking. ‘I’m going back to the pharmacy now. You read well, Beth.’

‘Thank you for covering,’ said Sami.

‘It’s OK. Don’t worry about anything.’

The burial felt to Beth like she was taking part in an ancient tradition, pagan almost. As the vicar scattered earth on the coffin, Patrick read the lines, ‘So, go and run free with the angels; dance around the golden clouds.’

A subdued group of people drove to Patrick’s new house for the wake. The table was laden with food; there were flowers: lilies again. Patrick stood shaking hands with people, but looking lost in his own home.

‘It was a beautiful service,’ Beth said to Sean.

‘Patrick planned it. He’s needed this: an end.’

Beth looked around the room. The sun was streaming in through the windows.

‘Is there somewhere I could leave my jacket?’

‘Kathleen’s room,’ said Sean and paused. ‘I suppose we should stop calling it that.’

‘Not yet. It’s how I think of it.’

Beth went upstairs, and laid her jacket on the bed. She peeped in the drawers: nothing had been sorted out since she was last here.

Downstairs, she saw Imogen standing alone, looking ashen, wearing a black suit, holding a plate with an untouched piece of cake. Beth wasn’t sure what to do. Should she speak to her after the previous row? But before she could decide, Imogen came to her. ‘It’s the end now, Beth. Let’s be friends again.’

‘How are you?’ Beth asked gently.

Imogen replied briskly, ‘I’m fine, thank you.’

Beth noticed that Imogen was pressing small crumbs of cake on her plate together with her fingers, and her eyes occasionally darted around the room.

Beth was concerned. ‘Maybe you should have taken more time off?’

‘I’ve had the school holiday. William tells me you went to Alex’s house. It’s a fantastic place to stay, isn’t it?’

‘Yes. It was good to get away from everything for a few days. We ate in some really good Middle Eastern restaurants and went to a musical.’

‘Sounds good. I’ll have to see if I can get William away for a weekend again before Alex sells the house.’

‘Patrick did well with the service. There are more people here than I thought. I didn’t expect so many family to come from Ireland, especially the ex.’

‘Ah. Is that who that man is?’

‘I don’t know why he’s turned up.’

‘He’s Conor’s father.’

After Imogen left her Beth went out into the garden. There was, as always, a breeze, but there was more warmth in the sun: summer was closer. Beth walked down the garden. She stopped at the new sturdy wooden picket fence. You could still see the sea. She couldn’t see a gate, which was sad, as she knew Kathleen had wanted one. Looking down, she saw marks on the grass where the hen coop had been, and heard Kathleen talking about Henrietta settling in well, enjoying the sea air. Her hands started to shake; tears poured down her face. She looked beyond the fence. To think of Kathleen falling here was so painful. What had gone through her mind as she fell? Looking back at where the hens had been it seemed as inconceivable as ever to Beth that Kathleen could have let them out herself. Why would she do such a thing? She remembered talking to Kathleen, sitting out here with a glass of wine. Losing her had been so hard, but trying to live with all the things they could no longer do together seemed unbearable today.

‘Are you Beth?’ Her heart missed a beat at the voice. She turned.

‘I’m Kathleen’s older sister, Roisin.’

Beth smiled, her lips trembling. ‘You startled me. You sound so like her.’

‘We have the same voice but not the same looks. She was always the pretty one.’

Beth smiled in sympathy. For a woman who must be in her mid forties to still think of herself as ‘the not so pretty sister’ was rather sad. Roisin seemed to read her thoughts. ‘You don’t need to feel sorry for me. I never wanted to be Kathleen.’

Beth was slightly taken aback. Roisin was a lot more forthright than Kathleen had ever been.

Roisin walked towards the fence. ‘I still can’t believe it’s happened. It was down here, wasn’t it, she fell? Patrick brought me down here last evening to pay my respects. I laid some flowers the other side of this fence.’

Beth frowned. ‘You had to walk all along the cliff path, then?’

‘Oh no. You don’t know about this new fence? There’s a gate hidden away. I’ll show you.’ Roisin took her close to the end and slid three of the slats along. ’Clever, isn’t it?’ she said, and slotted them back. ‘Just enough room for one person to get through. People walking past wouldn’t know there was a way in.’

They stood, quietly, listening to the sea, the hum of voices from other guests in the garden.

‘I was down here talking to Kathleen the night before she died. The hens, of course, were over there. It was a very posh new run she’d put the coop in. Seems odd looking at an empty plot now.’

‘She was dotty about those hens, wasn’t she? I don’t really understand how she came to be chasing them around the place. She’d said to me she wasn’t letting them out until the permanent fence was put up.’

Beth nodded. ‘I know. I was thinking that, but as there was not meant to be anyone else here, Kathleen had to be the person who let them out.’

‘It doesn’t add up to me. I know my sister might have been preoccupied, but I can’t see her doing that. Kathleen usually stayed pretty level headed through most things. She may have looked all airy fairy, but she had a strong inner core of common sense. Mind you, she made some pretty rubbish choices when she was younger. They usually involved men—’ Roisin tossed her head towards a man slouched against the wall, smoking. ‘Like him.’

‘She never talked much about her ex-husband.’

‘I’m not surprised. He treated her rotten. He hit her sometimes, you know; real nasty. She refused to go to the police about him. She’d come around our house with Conor as a baby, crying her eyes out.’

‘But why did she marry someone like him? She was so gorgeous. She could have chosen anyone.’

‘That was the problem. Being so pretty meant most decent boys were too nervous to ask her out, and if she did go out with someone, they spent their time worrying about losing her. I saw it over and over again.’

‘That doesn’t explain her ex’s behaviour.’

‘Ah. Well, instead of flattering her, telling her all the time how much he loved her, he chose to demean her, run her down so she wouldn’t think anyone else would want her.’

‘That’s horribly manipulative.’

‘I know. I told her what was happening, but she really believed that she was married for life. Fortunately, even Kathleen had to admit her marriage was over when he started going off with other women. Thank God Patrick came along. He took on Conor as well. Patrick has been a much better father for Conor.’

‘And yet Conor insisted on going back to his dad in Ireland after his GCSEs.’

‘The problem was that Conor had been allowed to idolise his dad, and the separation had made that worse. Kathleen pretended birthday and Christmas presents were from his Dad. She couldn’t bear him looking upset. She covered up a lot of the truth about Conor’s dad. I’m not saying she should have laid it on thick but a few home truths about him to Conor wouldn’t have gone amiss.’

‘I was surprised Conor agreed to come back.’

‘His dad told him Kathleen could help him financially, but the truth is his dad couldn’t wait to get rid of him. Conor was way out of control, and he’s got his dad’s temper.’

Beth screwed up her eyes. ‘I know I shouldn’t ask, but did Kathleen make a will, make any provision for him?’

‘Oh yes. She told me that if anything was to happen to her, he would have a lump sum. She and Patrick had agreed it.’

‘That’s good.’ They moved, and sat on the swing seat.

‘I wonder, did Kathleen confide in you much lately?’ asked Roisin.

‘I’m afraid we’d lost touch a bit. She sent me a text after Alex’s wife, Amy, died. She was very upset about that.’

‘Yes, she was. I told her not to go away skiing that weekend, but of course, she insisted on going.’ Roisin paused; a seagull screeched overhead.

‘So, did she speak to you much after that? It’s about then we lost touch.’

‘We did. She rang me when she got back from skiing. She seemed all over the place, kept going on about the accident. I told her Amy’s death wasn’t her fault, but she said I didn’t understand. She told me she’d been looking up some medication information: something was wrong. And then, of course, she’d got it into her head that Patrick was getting tired of her. She said that she was losing her looks, not as young as she was. I didn’t have much time for that. We all have to get older.’

Beth interrupted. ‘What did you make of Patrick’s arrest, by the way?’

‘I was shocked. We’d been told it was an accident and then we heard that they had arrested Patrick, suspected him of murder. Well, it’s a big leap, isn’t it? Still, then they released him; no more said. Do you think the police have investigated things properly? There are some strange people around, and this place is the back of beyond. I wouldn’t be wanting to stay here alone.’

‘From what I know they have been thorough. They had a forensic team working down here, looking for clues. They found nothing. No one appears to have a motive to have been out here.’

Roisin looked at Beth intently, again reminding Beth so much of Kathleen. ‘I’m so sorry this has happened. Kathleen had been making a good life over here.’

‘You must have missed her when she moved here.’

‘I did. They say sisters have one of the strongest bonds: shared upbringing, shared secrets. Like I said in the service, we were very close. Different, though. She was a lot more girly than me, loved clothes and jewellery. My dad once got her a shiny brooch and she’d lie in bed staring at it. It was only paste and beads. You’d have thought it was the crown jewels.’

Beth laughed. ‘I love diamonds as well. I used to joke we should rob a bank some day.’

Roisin laughed, but said more seriously, ‘You’d never have got Kathleen to do that. She’d never so much as pinch a paperclip from work. Never underestimate the fear a Catholic upbringing can instil in you. She felt guilty about liking material things. She was for ever going to confession about it. She had such a conscience on her. Sensitive, you know, and then she was so pretty. Plenty of temptation came her way.’

‘I think it did.’

They eyed each other. Roisin said, ‘I knew she’d, um, wandered, in her marriage.’

‘She told you about the affair?’

‘Ah, you knew. I’m not excusing her, but I don’t think it was an affair as such; more of a one night fling, don’t you think?’

‘Kathleen never told me. I heard about it after she died.’

‘She was pretty ashamed of it. She regretted it.’

‘Did she tell you anything about the person she had this fling with?’ asked Beth.

‘No. Just that it was someone to do with work.’

‘Definitely work?’

‘Oh, yes. She said it was awkward seeing him. I didn’t know about the pregnancy. It must have been devastating for Kathleen to lose a baby. Have you any idea who the father could have been?’ Roisin bit her lip. ‘I’m sorry. I don’t believe in Patrick’s miracle.’

‘There aren’t many men at work. Obviously, there’s my husband, Sami—’

Roisin interrupted, smiling. ‘When she told me it was someone at work, the first person who popped into my head was your husband. They got on very well, didn’t they?’

Beth could feel herself blushing. ‘They did, but it wasn’t him. We did, um, talk about it.’

Beth heard a breath of a sigh from Roisin, showing her that Roisin’s throwaway line had been more of a question than she realised.

‘There’s also Alex, Sami’s new partner.’

‘That’s the husband of the woman who died when Kathleen was staying with her, isn’t it? What about him? He might have been looking for some comfort.’

‘I don’t think so. He loved his wife so much. He’s still grieving for her. But then the only other person I can think of is her GP, William. He works at the practice attached to the pharmacy.’

‘I remember Kathleen talking about him when he first came. She said it was exciting to finally have someone good looking at work.’ Roisin looked apologetically at Beth. ‘Sorry—’

Beth smiled. ‘It’s OK.’

‘I think she said the other doctors were all women or older men. No, she liked William. He was a good GP and friend, although she never hinted it was more than that. She said he hadn’t been married long. Do you think it could have been him?’

‘I don’t know. It would have been a huge risk on his part.’

‘Men take them, though, don’t they? My money would be on him.’

‘One of the things that has been worrying me has been her talking the night before she died about feeling threatened by someone. Did she say anything to you about that?’

‘Not really, but she was definitely hyped up when we spoke on the Friday before she died. She said something about sorting her life out, that she wasn’t going to be messed around any more.’ Roisin looked over at the cliff. ‘When you say she was being threatened, do you mean someone could have come out here, pushed her over there? The police arrested Patrick. Do you think he really did it?’

‘I’m not saying that, but there are a few things that don’t quite add up.’

‘But no one really had a motive, did they? The affair thing was over; she lost the baby; she just wanted a quiet life here with Patrick.’

‘Did Kathleen tell you about anyone she might have been worried about?’

‘She mentioned that teacher, Imogen. Said she had tried to warn her about her pills or something. Kathleen also mentioned her daughter.’

‘Elsa?’

‘That’s it. Kathleen kind of joked about her fancying Patrick, but I think she was quite worried about her. Kathleen said she was very pretty, looked gorgeous in photographs. Do you think there was anything between her and Patrick?’

‘I think Elsa may have had a kind of crush on Patrick. She’s only young, I know Elsa very well, looked after her a fair bit when she was a child. Actually, I find the idea of her having any kind of relationship with Patrick very upsetting. It wouldn’t be right. Did Kathleen really think there was anything going on?’

‘She wouldn’t tell me. She could be quite secretive, my sister.’ Roisin picked a leaf off one of the neat box plants. ‘It doesn’t seem right talking like this after Kathleen’s funeral. It should be a day to remember her life, the good things she did, the people who loved her and appreciated her.’

‘I know. I suppose the way she died was so traumatic. It’s hard to see past that.’

‘Yes. She was my only sister. No warning. One minute she was there and then she’d disappeared.’ Roisin spotted a tiny blue butterfly. ‘Did you know, in Ireland the butterfly represents a person’s soul? Its wings allow the soul to cross to the other world. That’s what I wish for Kathleen, to be free to go, but somehow, I feel she’s still here. I can’t let Kathleen go yet. I don’t feel I know what happened, how she was the day she died.’

Beth nodded, tears in her eyes. ‘That’s how I feel. That’s exactly it. Nobody else understands. They tell me to move on, to forget it all, but I can’t.’

‘I know it’s easy for me to say things as I’m off on a flight back to Ireland tomorrow but, if you can keep looking, I’d be grateful. Something’s not right. If I didn’t have work commitments, I’d stay myself, but then no one is going to talk to me, are they? At least if we could find out who the father of this baby was, who had threatened her – it might not be anything to do with the way she died, but we ought to try for Kathleen’s sake, oughtn’t we? I mean, the truth matters, doesn’t it?’

Beth nodded. ‘Yes. I believe it does.’