‘You bastard!’ Marcy took another swipe at Mr Cottrell.
Again, he stepped back out of her reach, laughing.
A stir in the doorway, and there was the plumber, eyes and mouth wide open. He said, ‘What’s up?’ And to Susan: ‘Something wrong?’
Marcy yelled at him. ‘Get that bastard out of here before I kill him!’
‘I’m going! I’m going!’ said Mr Cottrell. And to the plumber: ‘I can call you as a witness that she hit me.’
‘What!’ said the plumber. He knew who was going to pay his bills, and it was the housing trust, and not this intruder. He flapped a hand towards Susan. ‘You all right, missus?’
Susan gasped, ‘He hurt me. Get him out of here!’
Mr Cottrell picked up a briefcase he’d left by the window. ‘You’re delusional, woman! Why would I want to touch you?’
Marcy faced Mr Cottrell down. ‘I know your kind! You’re a bully, but only with those that are smaller and weaker than you. And cleverer. Susan got you tied up in knots, didn’t she? And I know where those scarlet undies came from and who paid the bill for them, too.’
Mr Cottrell looked as if he wanted to take a swipe at Marcy, too, but thought the better of it. He brushed past the plumber and thundered down the stairs and out of the house.
Marcy helped Susan to her feet.
Susan cried out. ‘Oh, oh! Ouch!’ The pain was intense. ‘You saw? You heard?’
‘I did,’ said Marcy. ‘You have witnesses to what he said and what he did. You’ve got to report this. Have you got your mobile phone on you, or shall I use mine? We’ll take some photos, shall we? And get you checked out at the doctor’s. That way, we’ve got him bang to rights. Now, let’s see the damage.’
She helped Susan to the unmade bed, pulled up her T-shirt and undid her bra to reveal one reddened breast which was already darkening in colour and becoming swollen. The marks of Mr Cottrell’s fingers were clearly to be seen.
The plumber gawped.
‘Thank you, that’s quite enough,’ said Marcy, shooing him away. ‘Go and bleed your radiators or whatever it was you were doing, while I attend to Susan.’
Susan managed to manoeuvre her mobile out of her back pocket but was trembling so hard she couldn’t get her fingers to work. She handed it to Marcy, whispering, ‘Call Lesley. On the contacts list.’
Marcy found Lesley on the list, got through to her, and handed the phone back to Susan.
Susan forced herself to sit upright. ‘Lesley? I’m at Ellie’s. Diana’s lover was here. A man called Keith Cottrell. He’s most unpleasant. He …’ Here she broke down.
Marcy said, ‘Tut!’ and took the phone off Susan to speak to Lesley herself. ‘Lesley, you don’t know me, but I’m Mrs Diana’s cleaner that was and I’m here with Susan at Ellie’s looking at what needs to be done. It’s all right, we chased him away, but he assaulted Susan and she’s a bit shaken up. She got him to admit he was seeing Diana, and that he was the person she rang on her way to the hospital while her poor husband was dying. I’ll take some photos of Susan’s bruises and stick with her till her husband can get her to the doctor’s, right?’
Marcy clicked off, saying, ‘She’ll be right round. Now, will you let me take some photos? Those bruises are coming up nicely.’
Susan sat and suffered while Marcy took photos, and then bathed her breast with cold water from the basin in the en suite, thanking the Lord that there was water there at last.
The pain died to a dull ache. Susan even managed to speak to Rafael, minimizing what had happened, but she did not object when Marcy took the phone off her to tell Rafael that he ought to get round there sharpish, as his wife was not fit to get to the doctor’s by herself and that someone called Lesley was coming round, too, if he knew who Lesley was from Adam, because she, Marcy, did not.
At which Susan managed a weak sort of laugh.
‘That’s it,’ said Marcy. ‘You have to report it, otherwise that man will think he can do it again, if he hasn’t already. He reminds me of my brother-in-law that was. Used to knock my sister around something rotten till I caught him at it, and laid about him with my husband’s walking stick, the collapsible one, which did it no good at all, but made me feel a lot better. Ten to one, this Cottrell’s wife feels the back of his hand every time the wind shifts to the east. I wish I’d had something heavy to hand when he hit you.’
Susan said, ‘I’m glad you didn’t. You might have killed him.’ She pulled Marcy down on to the bed beside her. ‘I need you to say, “There, there.” Please? It will make me feel better.’
Marcy put her arm around Susan, tentatively, and then strongly. ‘There, there. If there were more of your sort around, the world would be a better place.’
Susan sighed, closed her eyes, and rested against Marcy. ‘Thank you. That’s just what I needed.’
After a minute or so, Susan straightened up and looked around her. She felt as if her breast was aflame, but perhaps it wouldn’t hurt so much if she concentrated on what needed to be done.
She said, ‘I’ll feel better if I keep moving. Now, before Lesley and Rafael arrive, shall we sort out what needs doing here? Putting this house straight is more than one person can do in a week. Marcy, do you think you can project manage the job? The trust will pay. If you agree, I’ll get on to the agency. Oh dear, it’s the weekend, and they won’t want to work on a Sunday. I’ll get them to send a couple here, preferably people who know how Ellie likes things to be, on Monday morning. I’ll make it clear that you’re in charge and that the bill goes to the trust.’
Marcy narrowed her eyes, considering the extent of the job. Then nodded.
‘Can do. I’ll stay on here now till someone comes to look after you, and then I’ll make a list of what needs to be done. I’ll get rid of the dust and those windows need cleaning in and out, for a start. Before I leave today, I’ll set about that no-good plumber, see what he’s done about making the back door safe.’
Susan’s fingers were working again now, thank goodness. She got through on her phone to the head of the cleaning agency and made the arrangements while Marcy straightened the bed and tutted over the state of the toilet.
Susan felt as if she were one great ball of hurt.
The doorbell rang below. Susan managed to get to her feet with a helping hand from Marcy and slowly made it down the stairs to find Rafael letting himself into the house with the trust’s keys.
Lesley was at his elbow.
Susan dissolved into her husband’s arms only to recoil for her breast was too sore to be touched. She collapsed on to the hall chair without bothering to dust it, and let Marcy tell them what had happened.
Rafael took charge, getting an appointment for her to see the practice nurse at the surgery, while Lesley took photographs and a statement from her.
Susan felt like a doll, pushed hither and yon.
She wanted Fifi. She was not going to cry. That was stupid. She wept.
Rafael handed her a handkerchief and whisked her into the car and away to the surgery while Susan tried to think of something, anything, but the pain in her breast and shoulder.
She told herself that she’d seen or heard something important, something that made sense of everything that had happened. Then she told herself that she was delusional, to use the word Mr Cottrell had thrown at her.
Pain engulfed her.
Rafael phoned Coralie and had a report back from that stout damsel to say that all was well back at the ranch. Susan didn’t think it was, but couldn’t do anything about it while the nurse attended to her shoulder and swollen breast. Painkillers were prescribed and she was told there was no great harm done and the ‘discomfort’ would probably last for a day or two. Rafael asked for, and received, a written report on the visit to the surgery which they would need in order to prosecute Mr Cottrell for the assault.
Susan tried to concentrate on something other than the pain. Mr Cottrell had said something or reacted to something important, but it slipped away from her. Well, it didn’t matter for the time being, did it? The painkillers began to work.
Home again. Rafael decanted Susan from the car, with care. She could hear Fifi’s thin wail as Rafael opened the front door. Coralie was walking up and down the corridor, with Fifi in her arms. Fifi wasn’t a happy bunny.
Susan reached for her baby, who clung to her – never mind that it hurt – and sobbed and sobbed. ‘Poor little one. Did you think I’d deserted you?’
Fifi gave a little hiccup, was put over Susan’s shoulder to bring up her wind, and then subsided into Susan’s arms with a pleased look, her colour returning to normal.
Susan felt a nudge at her knee. There was Evan, holding up his Hippo. ‘I gave her my Hippo, but she wouldn’t stop crying.’
Susan wanted to say that Fifi had needed her mummy but didn’t, because Diana’s poor children had possibly never been comforted by their mother as Fifi was now being comforted by Susan.
It was Coralie who said it. ‘She needed her mummy. Evan, you are a very brave little boy, and thoughtful, too. Now, let’s fetch Fifi her bottle and then you can help me find something for your tea.’
She nodded to Susan. ‘We had a good walk in the fresh air and played in the park till it began to cloud over. There’s some post. I put it on the kitchen table. Lucia put some money on her phone and has been texting someone ever since.’ Having dumped the problem of Lucia upon Susan, Coralie led Evan away.
Susan carefully lowered herself on to the settee and made a fuss of Fifi until Coralie returned to hand her a bottle of milk, carefully warmed to the right temperature.
Susan settled herself with one cushion under her arm and gave the bottle to Fifi … who refused it until she remembered that it might be all right if her mummy was giving it to her, and settled down to suck.
Susan relaxed and looked around her.
Jenny was sitting, rapt, in front of the telly, while Lucia was in a corner texting away on her phone. Did Lucia have a boyfriend? Hadn’t she mentioned someone she’d hoped to contact when she was turned out of house and home? Someone who hadn’t been available to help her that day? Or was she texting her family? She was not looking after Jenny, that was clear.
Rafael appeared and Jenny scrambled to her feet and launched herself at him shouting, ‘Cuckoo, cuckoo!’
Rafael picked her up, saying, ‘Cuckoo to you, too!’ He put his free arm round Susan and kissed the top of her head. ‘Take it easy, and I’ll bring you a cuppa.’ He switched the television off, told Lucia that she was needed in the kitchen to help Coralie feed the five thousand, and managed to get the girl moving.
Fifi lay on her mother’s uninjured side. Fifi sucked enthusiastically, and then rhythmically, and finally slowed down. Susan winded her and gave her the last inch of milk. Fifi fell away from the teat, her eyes closing. She’d had a tiring and difficult day and needed a nap. She was warm and comfortable and much loved.
Susan inched out her mobile and called Lesley. ‘I’ve remembered what it was that Mr Cottrell said, or rather that he didn’t say. I told you Diana called him on her way to the hospital, didn’t I? He said he was busy and called her back. Why did she call him?’
‘I agree that a phone call made by Diana at that time couldn’t have been a casual one. He’s next on my list for an interview. You do want to press charges, don’t you?’
‘I should. Marcy tells me he’s the sort who’ll go on lashing out at people until he’s stopped and taught that assaulting people is a game that’s not worth the candle. If you tell him that I am prepared to press charges, it might push him off balance.’
‘But you will go through with it?’
‘I quake at the thought of having to go to court and explain—’
‘Someone has to stand up to a man who thinks he can assault a woman and get away with it.’
‘I know. I know. It’s probably partly my fault. He took one look at me and thought I’d be a pushover.’ She tried to laugh. ‘I bet he never tried it on with Diana.’
They both thought about that and shook their heads.
Susan said, ‘Diana said they were at a conference together. Did that check out?’
‘I can’t find that any such conference was held locally this week.’
‘Diana must have thought that up on the spur of the moment to cover her absence that night. Unfortunately, if they did spend the night together it does give them both an alibi for the burglary.’
Lesley said, ‘I’ve been looking him up. He married the daughter of a man who has made a fortune in the building trade before launching out into other areas. My information is that she’s on the board of all her father’s businesses and is the power behind the throne. Keith is her toy boy with responsibility for just one of the family’s enterprises. I don’t think Keith would want to risk his marriage by being too closely associated with Diana.’
Susan slid down on to her back. Fifi slept on. Susan said, ‘His story is that his wife allows him considerable leeway, that she knew he was comforting Diana as a friend. Rafael thinks she’s not the sort to relish her husband openly preferring another woman. I suspect that Mrs Cottrell might well overlook an occasional overnight absence, but wouldn’t care for her husband’s supplying Diana with an alibi for murder. Unless, of course, she welcomed the idea of his providing her with evidence for divorce? From what he said to me, he seemed happy enough to have his bit on the side and keep his marriage going. Evan was on his last legs, so why would Keith jeopardize his marriage by hastening Evan’s death?’
‘Why fiddle around with another woman if you don’t want to risk divorce?’
‘He’s a powerfully built man and fit. Perhaps he isn’t getting enough of a workout at home. He has a strong sense of personal worth. He thinks he’s worth it, whatever it may be. He’d think a fling with Diana would be excellent value if all the parties concerned agreed the terms of engagement.’
Lesley agreed. ‘On the surface, he’s no reason to want Evan dead.’
‘The fact remains that Diana took the trouble to ring him on the way to hospital. If both parties were happy with the status quo, then why did she need to contact Mr Cottrell at that point in time? Did she just want reassurance that he still loved her and would continue their liaison, or did she want to remind him that she had some hold on him? Something which would keep him tied to Diana in future? Something which, if it came out, would push his wife into divorcing him?’
‘Blackmail?’ Lesley was dubious.
‘Not sure. I keep wondering why such an important, busy man turned up at Ellie’s today, expecting to find Diana there. Why did he do that? Who’s pulling the strings?’
Lesley poured cold water. ‘You say she wasn’t there when you arrived. She might well have stayed there overnight, but she didn’t stick around to catch up with him this morning, did she? She wasn’t expecting him or she’d have stayed to see him. He must have gone to see her of his own accord. I wonder why.’
‘To retrieve something she’s holding over him?’ Susan shifted Fifi to lie more comfortably on her. ‘There was something, a flicker of his eyelids perhaps, when I mentioned the laptop. Diana didn’t want you to take her laptop, did she, and she refused to give you her password? Why? I suspect there are emails on it from her to Mr Cottrell and from him back to her? Compromising emails. Evan must have suspected something was going on, and that’s why he went in search of her laptop while she was out. He was looking for evidence that she’d been playing around. However well she tried to delete those emails, you can still find them, can’t you?’
‘We can, and her laptop’s already in the hands of an expert who is trying to break her password. But unless Diana and Keith went in for explicit messages, if they confined themselves to making arrangements to meet, the emails would hardly be considered sufficient evidence for a divorce.’
Susan said, ‘All right. Is there anything else she could have had on him? Something which she’s put in the safe at home? Bills that he paid for the scarlet underwear and the high-heeled shoes, for instance. Did he buy them for her, and if so, could she have managed to keep the receipts for them? If he was clever enough to have paid with cash it wouldn’t matter, but if he paid by card then his details would be on the receipt and would lead any investigator directly to him.’
Lesley clicked her tongue, agreeing. ‘Or the receipt from any expensive dinner or hotel room, provided he paid by card. I’m beginning to agree with you that she’s holding something over him and that’s why he went to Ellie’s today. Perhaps it’s just that he wants to be sure there’s no paper trail to give his wife ideas about divorce. Perhaps he’s tiring of Diana and wants to retrieve whatever it is she’s holding over him.’
Susan sighed. ‘If we believe Lucia, then Mr Cottrell and Diana parted on the best of terms yesterday morning and neither of them actually took part in the break-in. But, judging from Mr Cottrell’s behaviour that morning and since, there’s something still tying them together.’
‘I agree. Whoever organized the break-in was not intending violence. They were looking for the safe. They didn’t know the house well enough to know where it might be. Evan woke up, and there was a fight which caused his death. If Diana had organized the break-in for some reason, she’d have told the burglars where to look for the safe, so unless they forgot her instructions – which doesn’t seem likely – then she didn’t have anything to do with it. And I can’t see why she would want anyone to break into her own safe, can you?’
‘How about it being Mr Cottrell who organized it in order to retrieve any incriminating evidence against him?’
Lesley said, ‘I like that. It’s more important than ever that we get into that safe. We’ve got an expert coming in tomorrow to deal with it.’ She clicked off.
Susan wriggled herself into a more comfortable position. The painkillers she’d been given were kicking in. She closed her eyes …
And woke to find someone giggling, and wriggling; something soft and warm against her arm. It was Fifi who was giggling and wriggling while Evan was leaning against Susan, holding on to one of the baby’s tiny hands.
Evan loved Fifi. Fifi accepted his love.
No, that was ridiculous! They were far too young to even think of such things.
Evan was a sturdy, handsome, intelligent boy with many good qualities. For one thing, he thought about others even in dire straits. And, Fifi smiled on him.
Fifi smiled on everyone.
No, she didn’t. She was very particular about who she liked. She’d put up with Coralie. She’d ignored Jenny. She loved her father, who adored her in turn. She loved her mummy. She loved her granny Ellie, and her step-grandpa, Thomas. She loved Evan.
Evan had never been loved as Fifi was loved.
For the first time it struck Susan that while blonde Jenny didn’t look in the least like Ellie, Little Evan had his grandmother’s eyes. Grey blue and far-seeing. Perhaps he had more of Ellie in him than Susan had thought?
Susan felt Evan’s pain, his longing for love.
She drew back. She could not, no, she could not, give him the love he needed. It would cost her too much.
Then she decided that she must try, however much it cost her.
She put her arm around him and hugged him.
The look he gave her! The hungry look! Had he never been hugged before? His eyes flashed silver. She could feel his need of her. He was reaching out to her, begging for love. She flinched. No, she couldn’t love him like a mother, could she? She sat up, moving Fifi into a sitting position. ‘Have we missed tea?’
The hours flew by, centring around the children and their needs. Coralie turned the older children out to play in the back garden but the wind was chilly and they clamoured to be let back in. Jenny only wanted to play with her tablet and watch television. Evan got out his books but couldn’t concentrate. He quarrelled with Jenny about which programme to watch on the telly, and they had to be separated and the telly turned off. Within minutes Jenny had turned it on again and Evan was drifting around at Susan’s heels.
Susan shuffled through the post and left most of it for Rafael to deal with. But there was one card, hand-delivered, no stamp, addressed to Evan and Jenny: ‘With love from Mummy.’
What? Diana had dropped a card into the house for them? Well, wonders would never cease. Perhaps she did love her children, in her own way.
Susan left it on the kitchen table for them to see.
Rafael popped back to say he’d spoken to the plumber, who’d left before anything had been done about the broken window in the kitchen door. He said Marcy seemed to have everything else under control, so he’d promised to deal with the broken back door himself. And how was Susan feeling?
Susan felt worn out, but managed to smile and say she was just fine.
Hearing Rafael, Jenny tore herself away from the television, shouting, ‘Cuckoo!’ She clamoured to be lifted up and played with but Rafael put her off, saying, ‘Later, later!’
Jenny threw a tantrum, at which Rafael cast a comical look of despair at Susan and made himself scarce.
Coralie signalled with her eyebrows to Susan. Should she leave the child to get over it by herself? Susan nodded. Jenny would soon stop when she realized no one was taking any notice.
Susan decided to cook. She’d been so looking forward to working in a kitchen again. She hadn’t tried out the new oven yet. She couldn’t wait!
She put Fifi in her highchair where she could see everything, and cooked. Ah, that was just what she needed. Fifi played with pieces of dough and sang to herself. Susan sang along with her. Evan brought his books to show Fifi, who graciously permitted herself to watch as he turned the pages for her.
Coralie tried to get Jenny to join them but the child refused, returning to the television set each time she was enticed away. Susan moved from making pies to throwing a sponge cake together. Coralie sorted clothes and toys, clearing the hall of a lot of the children’s things, except for the easel, which they couldn’t find a place for. Susan suggested Coralie stored the children’s toys in one of the built-in cupboards in the living room.
Evan brought a colouring book to the kitchen table and showed Fifi how to use his crayons. Fifi got the idea at once. Her manual dexterity was excellent.
Susan showed Evan his mother’s card. He said, ‘Mummy’s coming to take us home soon?’
‘I hope so, my poppet. Now’ – distraction needed – ‘would you like to help me by licking out the bowl?’ No child could resist that. Evan certainly didn’t. It was a toss-up whether Fifi or Evan got most on their faces. That made them both laugh.
How peaceful! This was what a family afternoon should be like.
Susan felt guilty that she hadn’t spent time with Jenny but … well, perhaps later.
At teatime, Lucia emerged from her room to demand Susan give her money to compensate her for her lost job and the wherewithal to buy a ticket back to Italy.
Susan took the two halves of sponge cake out of the oven and tested them with her forefinger. ‘I understand why you wish to return home, Lucia, but you can’t go till the police say so. Now, why don’t you see if you can get Jenny interested in something other than the telly?’
‘Devil child. She hit me. Why I bother with her?’
Susan noticed Coralie hiding a grin. Susan said, ‘Lucia, you signed on to look after these two children. You were paid to do so. I do understand that you’ve not found it easy. Was this your first job, perhaps? And you haven’t had any training for it? No? Well, if you want another job as a nanny in this country, it might be as well to learn how to do it.’
‘My boyfriend say I must be paid lots and lots for being sent away, and I must not work any more for horrible woman and child who hit me. I am worth more than that.’
Really? Is the boyfriend as stupid as you?
Susan said, ‘It’s only natural that you want to put all this behind you and move on and I’m sure the police will be happy to let you go when they have sorted things out. But, if you try to leave without permission, they will come after you and you will be arrested. I’ll see if I can get hold of Lesley when I’ve finished baking and ask her if she’s any news for you.’
Lucia said, ‘You cannot keep me here by force! Just because some stupid old man gets himself killed by burglars.’ She flounced out of the kitchen and thundered up the stairs back to her room.
Little Evan echoed, ‘Stupid old man?’
Susan had been careful not to mention his father’s death in front of the boy, but Lucia had not been so thoughtful.
Little Evan was no fool. He looked up at Susan, his eyes darkening.
She washed her own hands, wiped Fifi’s hands and face, and did the same for Evan. Then she sat down and hoisted him on to her knee. ‘Your father was a very brave man. Even though he was in a wheelchair, he fought off some bad men who were trying to steal things from your home. He fought like a lion, but they were too many for him and he was badly hurt. Your mummy got him to the hospital, but they couldn’t save his life. She’s very upset.’
The intensity of his gaze almost knocked her off the chair.
Susan continued, ‘Your mummy hoped that you could all move in next door because she thought your granny and grandpa would be back from their holidays by now. You remember Grandma Ellie and Grandpa Thomas?’
He frowned, shook his head and then nodded. He wasn’t sure, was he? Six months was a long time for a small boy to remember his grandparents.
Susan continued again, ‘What your mummy didn’t know was that your granny and grandpa wouldn’t be back home till next week and that their house is not yet ready for them. So she asked me to look after you for a while. She’s out now looking for somewhere else to make a home for you all, but she slept next door last night, to be close to you and keep an eye on you …’ And probably that was the truth, or enough of the truth to make the boy feel he hadn’t been abandoned. ‘And of course she sent you this card, to show you how much she loved you.’
Evan showed no sign of grief. He looked long and steadily at Susan. She tried to picture what his life had been like. He and his sister had been living at the top of the house in the care of an inadequate nanny, ignored by an elderly father who was sinking into dementia. His mother had worked long hours and had more than enough to do to keep the business going and look after everybody. Ellie had always said that Diana had been a good mother to her children, and although Susan had thought that sentiment was wishful thinking, yet perhaps, according to her lights, Diana had done what she could. She was not exactly the maternal type, was she?
Once or twice a week Evan had spent time with Ellie and Thomas, and there he’d been much loved and had learned what a family could be like. For the last six months, his grandparents had been absent from his life and he’d been handed over to Useless Lucia. A card with kisses on it was no substitute to a loving present. Evan was hurting, and what could Susan do about it?