Chapter 34

Tuesday 2nd November, 5:58am

The morning room is silent, the single standard lamp in the alcove beside the hearth casts a low yellow light across the polished floorboards. The fire has all but burned out, more ash now than coals in the grate. I only see the top of Mrs Havers’ hat, her head dropped forward. I assume she’s asleep. She clasps her stick in both hands, her cream bag resting on her lap. For a moment, I wonder if I should leave her here, gather the children and slip out the backdoor and head over to Alan’s. One way and another, it has been an extraordinarily long day for everyone.

‘Katherine, there you are!’ Not so asleep then. ‘Come in, sit down.’

‘Mark tells me your nephew, Freddie, didn’t die of scarlet fever. It must have been a shock to find out your great nephew and his family had moved in here.’

Her hand grasps the handle of her stick as she taps it gently against the fender at her feet. I won’t let it pass that I know she lied to me. I want her to know. I’m fed-up to the back teeth with everyone’s lies.

‘It was indeed, a most unwelcome shock. I have explained all that to Alan Wynn and your husband, but it is something rather more difficult I wish to discuss with you, Katherine.’

‘Surely it can wait until later this afternoon, or tomorrow? I really am very tired.’

‘I must speak now, it is what Richard would have wanted. No more secrets, he was very clear there. This is something I’ve told no one other than my late husband, not even Richard.’

She stops speaking, the fire murmurs as it sinks lower in the grate.

‘It is about my sister Helena. I hope she is with Richard now, God rest their souls.’

She looks at me standing in the doorway.

‘Will you not sit with me? It will only take a moment to explain, this thing that has haunted me my whole life.’

I don’t want her here and I guess she knows it. If she weren’t so determined to tell me her tale and I so curious to know it, I’d tell her to go and not come back.

I step into the room, and stop of a moment. We watch each other in silence. My ears strain for movement upstairs. I can’t help but glance at the ceiling.

She smiles and extends her hand towards the sofa. ‘I’ve heard nothing all the time I’ve sat here tonight.’

I sit down opposite her and wait.

‘The night my sister died, we sat together beside the pond. A summer drinks party was in full swing on the terrace here.’ She inclines her head towards the French windows. ‘A beautifully warm June evening. I’d borrowed one of her dresses and a pair of silver-heeled shoes. They nipped my toes terribly. A child, she said, dressing up in her clothes. She was waiting for Richard. He never told me why they were meeting that night. Hold these for me a moment, would you?’ She hands me her stick and her bag, which is surprisingly heavy. She tugs each finger in turn of her cream cotton gloves and pulls them off. She holds out her left hand and turns it towards the light coming from the lamp, the large centre stone glows.

‘This was her engagement ring. Edward said I should wear it to the party. I’d taken it from her dressing table. I knew she would be angry. She was an indulgent older sister, spoiled me dreadfully, but there were limits.’

She looks up into my face.

‘We argued over it. Helena tried to pull it from my finger. Who can blame her? I pushed her away, perhaps too roughly, I was not used to alcohol then. My heel caught in my hem and she toppled backwards somehow. I don’t know quite what happened, but we fell, I on top of her and most awkwardly. The crack of her head on the edge of the metal seat was sickening.’

I recall the newspaper’s grizzly report was of a blunt head trauma, the victim probably semi-conscious for a few minutes before she died. I’m shivering. I should say something, but words fail to come.

‘You may think it couldn’t get any worse, but it does. You can’t imagine my horror when I realised how badly injured she was. We had just struggled, fallen . . .’ She stares beyond me at the empty room. ‘Never did I intend to harm her.’

She looks at me again, her dark eyes meet mine, but I have no clue to what she is thinking. This whole thing is so dreadful I can’t think of anything adequate to say.

‘Had I stayed with her she would not have lived. Even so, I should have been there with her for those last minutes. It is, perhaps more than anything else, the thing that has troubled me most over the decades. I heard the rear gate, you see. Richard was approaching from the loke as arranged. He was training as a doctor and was almost qualified by then. He would know what to do and how to help her. I panicked and ran, hid at the back of the long border. I watched him comfort her. He was still holding her when Edward discovered them there. I’m sure she was quite dead by then.’

She begins to pull on her gloves. ‘I told Edward what had happened. Such a mistake! Of all people to confide in, but I was young, so foolish and, of course, thought myself in love. He held it over me for the rest of his life. I have never spoken to another living soul about it until now.’

I’m horrified at all she has told me, repulsed at what she has done. But, at the same time, I feel for this old woman. Her mistake that evening has defined her life since then. I can’t help but feel a little sorry for her.

‘I understand why Richard should have known, but why tell me?’

‘I suspect Richard knew what had happened.’

She looks at me again, then back down at her gloves as she slowly pushes each of her fingers into the cream material and smooths the fabric.

‘Helena was conscious, he tells me, for a minute or two. I asked him once if she was able to speak. He did not reply for some time. When he did respond it was to say her last words were to ask him to take care of me.’

My intake of breath is so sharp she glances up and smiles.

‘Quite shocking, is it not, Katherine?’

I can only nod, not sure what to say. Did Richard know all along what Alice Havers had done? He had always looked out for her, as far as I could tell. I wish I had known him longer, had got to know him better.

‘Edward told Oliver Lyle’s father what happened. He was the family solicitor back then, a good one, unlike his son. Edward quite deliberately left me open to blackmail. Even after his death he had to be in control. Oliver Lyle is a greedy man. I let him swindle me over the land sales. Then, of course, I had him; if his dealings become public knowledge his career would be finished, he would not only lose his reputation but his liberty as well.’

A smile flickers on her lips. How much sense this would make to Mr Whittle if he knew.

‘I don’t think Lyle will keep my secret if the police arrest him, which they surely will. He argued with Richard over the land sales lately. Richard had realised what had gone on and was not prepared to be discrete, despite my begging him to leave well alone.’

‘Did Shirley let you know Mr Whittle has spoken to the police?’

‘She did. I understand Whittle is quite nervous of Lyle, that he runs around doing his bidding. Both of them are loathsome individuals!’

‘With Mr Whittle’s testimony, it will be easy to prove the fraud, the under-valuing of the land.’

We sit quietly for a moment. The house is sill, only the gurgle in the radiators, the plinking of the pipes as the heating starts up for the day.

‘After all this time, it’s unlikely they’ll prove anything against you.’

She smiles. ‘Is that your legal advice? There comes a time when, to be frank, keeping the secret was more burden than telling it. It is important you know about Helena, you will perhaps understand this house the better for it.’

‘No more secrets?’

‘Perhaps that is it.’ She takes my arm. ‘Do the police know what happened to Richard?’ Her voice is so low I barely catch her words.

‘They’re waiting on post-mortem results. Mr Whittle and Shirley have reached their own conclusions, as I assume you have heard?’

She nods and reaches for her stick.

‘He had been quite under the weather of late, dizzy at times. He may have just been taken badly, of course.’

‘Let’s hope so.’

She places the stick on the floor beside her feet and holds her free hand towards me.

‘If you wouldn’t mind giving me a pull, Katherine, or I may never manage to get to my feet again.’

She leans heavily on my arm as she stands. Mark is in the doorway smoking a cigarette. I stare back at him as he takes a long drag before heading back into the hall, closing the kitchen door behind him. Mrs Havers waves her stick forwards and we slowly move round the chairs and head for the door.

‘The guilt I have carried all these years. Allowing an innocent man to take the blame. Cowardly in the extreme. It’s so difficult to live with one’s self with so much self-loathing. I wear Helena’s ring every day without fail. It’s a constant reminder of what I have done and what I have lost. But I always remember, as if it were ever possible to forget. I hope you will understand and not despise me, too much.’

We cross the hall, her gait is easier now, she’s leaning less heavily as we reach the front door.

‘I’m an only child so it is difficult to fully understand your loss in that sense, but every day I see that sibling bond in the twins. They’re sleeping together now in Tom’s bed.’

She pulls open the front door with an ease I have to admire. She takes my arm again as we head down the front steps. The taxi driver stares at us as we crunch across the gravel, he opens the driver’s door, jumps out and opens the rear passenger door.

She lowers herself into the taxi. The driver shuffles his feet in the gravel, a hint for me to move. He can’t close the door until I step away.

‘Richard continued to visit me after I left Haverscroft. He knew what a time of it I’d had: being married to Edward, losing my boys and not ever really knowing what happened to them that day in the loke. Richard knew how Edward had taunted me, and of course, we had both lost Helena. I like to think our friendship went some way to making up for my atrocious behaviour. I wish only I had told him the truth, that we had spoken of what happened to my sister. Perhaps, he may, in time, have forgiven me.’

She puts her bag on her lap, and holds the stick in her hand.

‘Please visit me, Katherine, if you can.’

She sits very straight, looks me full in the face. It’s impossible to read her dark brown eyes. ‘If you feel it’s your duty to speak with the police, then you must. I would not want you to have any of this on your conscience. My only request is you speak with no one else on the subject. I could not bear people to gossip.’

I step back from the taxi. She seems very small as she stares back at me. The driver closes the passenger door. He hurries into the driver’s seat, slams his door, the engine revs. I knock on her window. She fumbles, panicky, unable to operate the electric button. Her lips move as she bangs her stick against the back of the driver’s headrest. I step closer to the car as the window slides down and catch a hint of powder and perfume.

‘If Edward didn’t want Helena and didn’t love you, why would he stop you from leaving?’

She reaches her hand through the open window. I take it in mine and hold it tightly.

‘Control, he always had to be in control.’ Her face is creased with concern. ‘Edward is at his most dangerous when one tries to leave. Go at once, don’t delay.’

I force a smile and hope it will reassure her, at least a little. ‘It’ll be okay now. There’s a plan, as you say. Everyone knows what needs to be done. Go home, don’t worry.’

She nods, I release her hand and step back from the taxi.

‘Please let me know when you and your family are safely away from here. I shall not rest until I have that news directly from you, Katherine.’