Jail Bird (9 page)

‘Shit, I could have
killed
you,’ said Oli, putting a mug of coffee in front of her mother as Lily sat, shaking with the aftermath of shock, at the big, marble-topped island in the huge kitchen of the house.

Well I got my wish,
thought Lily dazedly.
I’m in.

But the question was, how long could she
stay
in?

Oli rummaged in a cupboard – the cupboards that Lily herself had chosen – and found some brandy. She added a splash to Lily’s coffee, hesitated, then added some to her own too. Lily sat there, in her own damned kitchen, feeling distinctly strange. Feeling that somehow she had slipped sideways in time. Everything was the same, on the surface. But nothing was the same, not really.

‘You scared me witless,’ said Oli, sitting down.

Briefly Oli sank her head into her trembling hands. Then she looked up at Lily with angry and bewildered eyes. Her mother was here. The woman she’d cried for throughout her young life was sitting right here in front of her.

She’d bundled Lily into the car, brought her inside The
Fort. Acted totally on impulse. And now…now she hadn’t a clue what to do. Lily was bad, guilty, a terrible person. But Lily was her mother and, much as she might fight it, Oli felt the pull of Lily like a powerful magnet, drawing her in.

‘What the hell were you doing, squatting on the flipping ground outside the gates?’ she demanded.

Well, what
had
she been doing? Lily wondered about that herself. Revisiting the past, mostly. Looking at what she had lost. It was both painful and alluring, doing that. Seeing all that was old and dear and familiar to her – her
home,
The Fort – when times had moved on, when she was no longer welcome here.

All she wanted was for the decade never to have happened. To rewind the tape of life, to go back to that night when she had found Leo dead, but in this version,
her
version, he would not be dead, he would be alive, and they would argue. He would be sorry for what he’d done – for fuck’s sake, Adrienne Thomson of all people! – and there would be only Adrienne, only one mistress and not a veritable legion of tarts there to do his bidding. Leo would grovel (and this was unlikely, she knew it was, because she had never seen Leo grovel in his entire life, but this was
her
fantasy and that was the way she wanted it to play out), and all would be forgiven, and life would go on.

But it could never have worked out that way, because Lily didn’t do forgiveness and because she had never loved Leo in the hot, heady way she had once loved Nick. Her and Leo had sort of suited each other, though: he was loud; she was quiet. He liked splashing the cash; she had enjoyed spending it. They had the girls to unite them. For a while it had been enough.

Only…then she had found out about Adrienne, and any
feelings of affection she’d had for Leo had vanished overnight. They’d just evaporated like mist, leaving her with nothing but bitterness. Truth was, after that he could have had ten mistresses or even a hundred; to her, it was a moot point. The damage was done.

The nip of brandy was steadying her. She felt a little less shaky. She glanced at Oli, who looked even worse than she did. ‘I’m sorry if I scared you,’ said Lily.

‘
Scared
me?’ Oli let out an ironic laugh. ‘You didn’t just scare me, you freaked me out! I thought you were lying there
dead
or something, I was…’ Her voice caught, there were tears in her navy blue eyes. She blinked hard…‘Swear to me you’ll never,
ever
frighten me like that again.’

Lily had to fight the urge again to reach out, touch Oli’s hand, embrace her. She just nodded, feeling choked up herself as she looked at her daughter’s face and saw the impact Leo’s death must have had on her. It was very clear that although Oli might hate her, be suspicious of her, she was still Oli’s mother and Oli feared the death of another parent. No matter that the parent was no good, a murderess, a lifer out on licence, the worst scum that ever crawled the earth; deep down Oli was terrified of Lily dying, as Leo had died. The early years had scarred her badly, left a deep mark.

‘I’m sorry,’ said Lily helplessly, hating Oli’s pain.

‘Well, what on earth were you doing?’ demanded Oli. She cupped shaking hands around her mug of coffee.

‘I just…wanted to see the place again,’ said Lily. It was the truth, after all. Or part of it, at least. This was her home.

‘What, lying on the
ground
?’

And what was she supposed to say now? That Oli’s Uncle Freddy had been there, threatening to crush the life out of her? That she had collapsed with fear? She looked at Oli’s
sheet-white face. No, she didn’t want more shit going Oli’s way. She knew she was going to have to make some waves but, for as far as possible, she was going to shield Oli – and Saz – all she could.

‘I got upset,’ she said. ‘Seeing the place again…I didn’t realize how much it would throw me.’

Oli nodded and sipped her coffee. Then the intercom buzzed on the wall beside the marble-topped island and Oli dropped her mug. Hot coffee spilled out, splashing over her white top, running onto the floor. The mug handle snapped off.

‘Fuck!’ said Oli loudly.

‘I’ll sort that out,’ said Lily, going to the sink, her sink, the Belfast sink she’d selected from the catalogue, the one she’d taken such pride in. God she must have been in a trance or something in those days, living the ideal life, living a total lie – and she wrung out a cloth then came back to the island as Oli flipped on the intercom. A male voice said: ‘Hi, Ols.’

Lily busied herself with the mopping up, one ear cocked towards the intercom. Oli was looking at her mother, her body language radiating awkwardness.

‘Jase!’ Another glance at Lily. ‘Um…come on in.’

She held down the tab to open the front gates. She looked unhappy. Lily went back to the sink and rinsed out the cloth. Turned and looked at Oli.

‘You’ve got visitors, I’d better go,’ she said.

‘No! It’s okay.’ But still she looked unhappy.

‘Who’s Jase?’ asked Lily. ‘Boyfriend?’

‘Yeah. Sort of,’ said Oli, then fell silent.

‘Been going out long?’
Speak to me, Oli, come on, I’m your mother for God’s sake.

‘About six months,’ said Oli. She raised a hand to her
mouth and chewed at a hangnail nervously. Lily saw that all her other nails were bitten too, down to the quick. ‘He works for Uncle Si and Freddy at the club,’ she said suddenly. ‘Um. Should I tell Jase you’re here? Maybe he shouldn’t see you.’

So Oli knew Freddy and Si were a danger to her mother. And – thank you, God – she was even making tentative moves to protect her from them.

They both listened to a powerful car engine coming up the drive.

‘It’s okay,’ said Lily. ‘I’m a fact of life, Oli. Si and Freddy are going to have to live with that.’

She sounded braver than she felt. Inside, she was quivering with nerves. Freddy had just demonstrated clearly that her arse was going to be fried at some time of his choosing. And while Si might be more subtle, he was no less dangerous. She knew she was in the shit. It was just a question of whether she could haul herself out of it before one or both of Leo’s brothers pushed her under.

Oli looked uncertainly at her mother, but she went to the back door and opened it. The car pulled up outside, the engine was cut and a door opened and slammed shut. A very handsome and extremely muscular man in his twenties, with black curling hair, clear olive skin and laughing dark eyes came in and swept Oli up into his arms.

Jesus, he’s stunning,
thought Lily. And Oli looked like jailbait – only of course she wasn’t, Lily reminded herself. Oli was eighteen years old, an adult, although she looked younger. She’d turned eighteen on the twenty-seventh of February. Lily would never forget that date, it was imprinted on her mind. Every year in stir she had marked that day off on her calendar, had got the phone cards, phoned out, asked Si – who had
taken up residence with bloody Maeve in
her
home – if she could speak to Oli, wish her a happy birthday. And Si, the bastard, had always said no, Lily, you can’t. Fuck off and die, why don’t you?

Jase grinned and kissed Oli before he realized they had an audience. Then, gently but firmly, he pushed her back a step. His grin faded.

‘This is…’ Oli faltered.

‘I know who it is,’ said Jase, his eyes unfriendly now as they rested on Lily, standing there by the marble-topped island. ‘I saw her at the wedding.’

‘Hiya Jase,’ said Lily with more bravado than she actually felt.

He nodded; very cool.

‘Jase…’ began Oli.

‘Jesus, Oli, you’re putting me in a bad position here,’ said Jase, shaking his head, pushing a hand through his hair. ‘You know how Si feels about all this.’

‘Yeah, I do. But…she’s my mother.’

‘Who killed your father. What the hell are you doing, letting her in here?’

‘Jase!’

‘Well, it’s the truth. She’s got no right to come here. And it might not be safe for you. You don’t know what the crazy bitch is going to do, now do you?’

Lily straightened, pushed herself away from the island. She stared at Jase with hostile eyes. She wanted to say that she had every right in the world to be here. But she was smart enough to know that if she smacked Jase down, Oli might then have to defend him, and she didn’t want to alienate Oli, not when she felt she was making just a tiny bit of progress with her.

‘I’ll go, Oli,’ she said, and made for the door, pushing past Jase.

‘Yeah,’ said Jase. ‘Do that.’

‘Wait!’ Oli caught her arm, turned her. ‘How are you getting…I mean, look, hold on. How are you getting back to where you’re staying?’

She’d nearly said ‘home, how are you getting home’. But Lily
was
home. Nick’s flat was just a roof over her head, nothing more than that.

Lily shrugged. ‘Bus.’

‘Bus?’
But for God’s sake, it’s miles to the nearest bus stop. And,’ she glanced at her watch, ‘it’s too late anyway. All the buses are gone.’

‘Then I’ll have to use your phone, call up a cab,’ said Lily.
Although I don’t have cash enough for that.

‘No, don’t be silly. Look…’ Oli was hesitating.

Lily held her breath.

‘Look,’ said Oli finally, ‘Jase can drive you.’

‘Fuck
that,
’ said Jase.

Oli sent him an angry glance. ‘All right then,
I
will.’ Oli was frowning. ‘Or…’

‘Or what?’
Come on, sweetheart, come through for your Mum,
thought Lily, hardly daring to breathe.

‘Well, you could…you could stop here. Just for tonight.’

Jase turned away, exasperation in every line. ‘You are seriously
mental,
Oli King,’ he groaned.

Lily felt her eyes start to swim with tears. Oli didn’t believe she’d killed Leo. She
didn’t believe it.
Or she would never have extended the invitation to stay, she’d have been too afraid. For a minute Lily couldn’t speak at all, she was too afraid that she would break down and cry.

Oli was looking at her worriedly, casting anxious glances
at Jase. She desperately wanted that young man’s approval, it was obvious. But she was digging her heels in, making a stand for her mother. Lily felt unbearably touched.

‘Well?’ Oli said. ‘Mum?’

Lily gulped hard. ‘Yeah,’ she nodded. ‘Thanks. Okay. I’ll stay.’

Becks had visited her in Holloway, under the ‘hand-in’ system for newly convicted prisoners; this visit was permitted within forty-eight hours of being incarcerated. Lily had been marched down with a group of others to the visits hall. There she – and they – were frisked and searched. The things in her pockets – including her two precious phone cards – were taken off her.

‘I’ll get them back though, won’t I?’ she asked the screw anxiously. She wanted to call the girls. She
had
to call them, hear their voices, tell them it was all a mistake, that it would all be put right somehow.

She would never forget the last time she’d seen them before she was banged up. The way they had stood there, looking at her, when she wanted to hug them, reassure them. Si and Maeve had been in the room, both of them standing behind the girls, holding their shoulders; Si and Maeve, guardians of the girls. Si looking at her like she was dirt on his shoe, Maeve’s expression smug. Si held Saz, Maeve held Oli – and it was a little time before Lily realized with a sinking heart that Si and
Maeve were not holding the girls to stop them running to their mother; they were holding them to stop them fleeing the room altogether.

Now, after Becks’s visit, she got her cards back and went and found the phone and joined the queue. When she finally reached the front and dialled out to The Fort, Si answered. She asked if she could speak to the girls.

‘No, you can’t,’ he said. ‘Haven’t you done enough damage, you evil cow?’ And he put the phone down.

She dialled again, shaking, crying. She
had
to speak to them.

But this time, there was no answer at all.

When Oli tapped on the bedroom door next morning she found her mother sitting up on the side of the bed, clutching her head. She’d given Lily one of the seven bedrooms the house boasted, every one of them large and en suite: Oli occupied one at the front; and Saz – Oli had told Lily last night – had a suite to herself at the back on the ground floor overlooking the gardens, which was going to be knocked through and converted into a completely self-contained apartment for her and Richard one of these days.

Lily had crept out of bed during the night and tried the door of the master suite she had once shared with her husband, but found it was locked.

Fuck it,
she thought, and went back to bed, only to lie there in the dark, unable to sleep, thinking only that she was back, she was right here where Leo had lost his life. She had achieved this much. She knew she had a hard road to travel now, and if she got to where she wanted to be then it was going to cost her; but she was determined. And – and this
was the best of all – Oli didn’t seem to hate her too much. Not at the moment, anyway.

When she had finally slipped into exhausted slumber, the dreams plagued her again. She was inside, desperately trying to contact Oli and Saz. Only she couldn’t.

It was a relief to wake up.

‘Mum? What’s the matter?’ asked Oli, seeing her mother hunched over, clearly in pain.

‘Migraine,’ groaned Lily. ‘I get them something awful, they started just after –’ Lily paused for dramatic effect – ‘just after I got locked up.’

Lily kept her eyes on the carpet. She saw Oli’s feet in FitFlops moving past, going to the bedside table. Then over to the curtains, pulling them back.

‘Ow,’ said Lily as the light hit her.

‘Is it really bad?’ Oli’s voice was sweetly concerned.

I am a terrible person,
thought Lily.
I am beyond redemption.

‘Awful,’ moaned Lily. ‘Makes me feel sick. In fact…’ and she dashed off to the en suite, closing and locking the door behind her – she didn’t want any mishaps. She made elaborate throwing-up noises, flushed the loo, splashed water over her face and hands, and dried herself on a towel, not meeting her own eyes in the mirror.

Then she unlocked the door and went back into the bedroom and flopped down, gasping, onto the bed. There was a cup of strong tea on the bedside table. Her daughter was sweet, so thoughtful and so gullible. She hoped Oli wasn’t this wide-eyed and innocent when it came to dealing with Jase.

‘Can I get you anything? Paracetamol?’ offered Oli.

‘No,’ said Lily, wincing with imaginary pain.

‘Look…I have to go out,’ said Oli anxiously.

‘You go,’ said Lily, waving a limp hand towards her daughter. ‘I’ll just rest here.’

‘Do they last long? These migraines?’

‘About three days, usually. I get the bad ones, flashing lights, nausea, dizziness, the lot. I’m sorry about this, Oli. Really I am.’

‘Only I could give you a lift back to the flat,’ said Oli.

‘I can’t move just now. And the flat was only for last night, I’ll just have to go back there and get my stuff together and move on.’
God, I’m such a liar.
‘And I will, when I feel a bit…oh shit, sorry, Oli…’ And she was off to the bathroom again. Locking the door again. More spewing-up sound effects, flush loo, run water, splash face, dry on towel.

Lily staggered back into the bedroom and collapsed onto the bed. ‘I’m so sorry about this, Oli,’ she said weakly. ‘When you’ve been so good.’

‘Look, I tell you what, you just rest there,’ said Oli. ‘I’ll be back lunchtime, check you’re okay, all right?’

‘Thanks, Oli.’ Lily had her eyes closed but she sensed Oli still hovering nearby, uncertain whether to go or stay. ‘You go, I’ll just try and sleep.’

And Oli went. She heard her close the bedroom door softly behind her, and move off along the landing and down the stairs. The front door slammed. Seconds later, Oli’s little sports car gunned into life and tore off down the drive.

There was silence in the house.

Complete, utter silence.

Game on,
thought Lily, and sat up and drank her tea.

She took a quick shower, dried her hair, put on yesterday’s clothes, and trotted off along the landing to the master suite.
She tried the handle again, but it was still locked. She went downstairs. She knew this house like the back of her hand; she went straight to Leo’s study – which was
still
laid out as a study, but looked pretty much unused. Her eyes went around the walls of the smallish room. There was no gun cabinet there any more. Someone, obviously, had taken it as too strong a reminder of what had befallen Leo, and hadn’t wanted to go on looking at all the twelve-bores, air guns and beautiful, hugely expensive Purdeys, all lined up there, gleaming and treasured, after one of them had been used to kill Leo.

So, no gun cabinet. Lily sat down in the dark blue leather captain’s chair behind the desk and thought about that, mulled it all over in her mind once again as she had done a thousand, a
million
times, while she had waited out the hours spent inside. The gun cabinet hadn’t been broken into that night. The
house
hadn’t been broken into either, which had told the police that whoever had done this had easy access to the inside of the house, or had somehow gained that access. Whoever had killed Leo had known that the household keys – to the gun cabinet, the cellar, spares for the main doors, sets for the outbuildings, had all been kept right here in this desk.

Lily thought of Leo’s tarts. That was the only way she could think of them, the only way she could bring herself to let them enter her mind.
Leo’s tarts.
One in a lunatic asylum – Alice Blunt; the others she didn’t know about yet. She wondered if Leo had brought Adrienne Thomson back here and screwed her in their bed. Could he really have done that to her? If he had, it was more than possible that he had brought others back here too, up to and including the one from the loony bin. Who must have been a desperate, unstable
woman. Who maybe had freaked and decided to blow Leo’s brains all over the master suite.

Maybe.

But there had only been Lily’s prints on the gun.

She hoped Jack Rackland was busy fulfilling his part of their deal, because she was certainly trying hard enough to fulfil hers. She sifted through the drawers, hoping that she would find what she was looking for.

She did. In the bottom left-hand drawer she found a pile of old photos. She looked through them, grabbed one, pocketed it. Underneath the photos were the keys, some of which she remembered, a couple of which she didn’t. She went out to the shed first, and noticed that things were slightly different at the back of the house. There was decking now, and a large seating arrangement with a patio heater. Si and Maeve had clearly made themselves very comfortable while staying at The Fort, in
her
house. She unlocked the shed, stepped around the ride-on mower and the neatly stacked paint tins and gardening tools. She selected the tool she needed and relocked the shed, then went back indoors.

As she passed through the hall again she glanced at the clock. It was nearly ten thirty and Oli might be back at twelve or even before that for lunch, so she had little time. She hurried back up the stairs, collected the rucksack from the room she’d slept in last night and, with shaking hands put the key in the lock of the master suite and turned it. She stuffed the bunch of keys into her jeans pockets and stood there, suddenly fearful.

Her life had fallen apart the last time she went inside this room. Time had moved on, but in her head there was still a horror movie playing out inside it. Her walking in, angry, wanting a fight, wanting to get it over with, hyped up with
adrenaline; and then the shock, the God-awful shock of seeing the body,
his
body, lying there, the head blown away, the blood, the brains and the gore everywhere. And then the police coming, and the slow sick realization that they thought she’d killed him.

Then, prison. Oh shit, so long in prison. Seven years in Holloway, two in Durham, one in New Hall, then the last two in Askham Grange. Being confined without everything she knew, everything she loved. Her kids torn from her, the boredom and the low, simmering anger because she
knew she’d done nothing.
She’d contacted her brief, asked should she appeal? He’d said certainly, yes; but the appeal had been turned down. So she stayed there, powerless, marking off the days, the weeks, the years.

And – finally – freedom. But not the total freedom she craved; this was a freedom still hemmed about with limitations. Seeing probation officers. Walking on eggshells, not wanting to do anything that might take her back inside. She was still not completely free, not free as she defined it. She was going to have to win that freedom for herself, bit by painful bit, piece her life back together and find the bastard who’d done Leo and let her hang out to dry for it.

Now she was outside the door to the master suite once again. And even though logic told her that there was nothing inside there that could hurt her, no ghosts,
nothing,
even so she stood there and felt sweat erupt all over her body at the thought of going inside.

But she had to. She
had
to.

Lily gulped and steeled herself to do it. She reached out and opened the door. With a moan she pushed it wide open, expecting the horror to replay, Leo lying there, what remained of him, unrecognizable, but unquestionably Leo. Gold rings
on his stubby fingers, the familiar old white scar on his left wrist, the thick gold chain around his neck mingling with the blood and the bits of mangled flesh.

But there was nothing.

She stepped inside. Before she could lose her nerve and run she quickly relocked the door from inside. Then she turned and looked around the room she had once shared with her husband, the blood buzzing in her ears and her heart beating so hard in her chest that she thought it was going to break straight out through her ribs.

Nothing.

The bedding was different. Not what she would have chosen. The curtains were different too. But the bed was in the same place, the thick white carpet was…no, it couldn’t be the same one. Those stains would never have come out. It had been relaid.

All remnants of Leo’s death had been wiped from the room. Light streamed in through the windows. The atmosphere was peaceful, not troubled. Lily walked slowly into the centre of the room, laid the rucksack and the tool down. Then she looked at the wall behind the bed. Different colour. It had been cream when she was here, now it had been repainted in a stylish dark red. Red like Leo’s blood had been as it poured out of him. Shuddering, Lily started shoving at the bed: it moved easily; it was on castors. She shoved it hard, pushing it out into the middle of the room, away from the wall.

Panting, she paused. Then she took up the pickaxe. It was damned heavy. She swung it back over her shoulder, pictured Si King’s pudgy, self-satisfied face in front of her and let fly at the wall.

Whack!

It was hard work, hacking through the plasterboard. Leo’s boys had done a bloody good job on relining this wall:
too
bloody good. Soon she was streaming with sweat but the clock on the wall over the dressing table told her that time was running on, there was no time to rest.

Whack!

She kept belting away at it, picturing Si there on the wall before her, Si her enemy, Si bloody King.

Take
that,
you bastard!

She was glad now that she’d spent time in the gym during her confinement; before prison, she wouldn’t have had the strength to attempt this. Now new muscles – and hatred – powered her.

She kept hacking away, through a blooming haze of plaster dust, with arms that grew heavy and aching. She was wet through, gasping, and – oh bliss – soon she started seeing small orange bits of insulation material, then a larger section of the stuff as big chunks of plasterboard fell away.

Jesus, she was making such a mess, plaster and dust and shit everywhere, and she didn’t know how she was going to explain any of this to Oli, but then the door had been locked and she guessed that neither of the girls ever came in here. The memories, the feelings evoked, would be too awful. And thank God for that. Because there was no way she was going to be able to clear all this crap away before Oli got home.

Finally she’d made a big enough hole in the board. She dropped the pickaxe and got in there with her hands, pulling at the itchy chunks of insulating fabric with her hands, yanking it out, throwing it aside. And now she really, really hoped that Leo hadn’t let her down. That it would all pan out just as years ago he had assured her it would, telling her
that if ever they needed it fast, it would be there, safe and sound. She dug deeper with her fingers, her nose itching as flakes of the fabric flew all around her, her skin itching too; Jeez, she hated this stuff. But then…

‘Oh holy
shit!
’ she said, and laughed out loud.

Because it was there. She couldn’t believe it, hadn’t
dared
to believe it, but it was. Her first glimpse of the wads of fifty-pound notes, all neatly bundled up and covered in polythene, was the most beautiful thing she could ever have imagined. She stepped back from the wall, went into the en-suite bathroom and splashed her face and hands to relieve the itching. She cupped her hands and gulped down an icy, delicious mouthful of water.

Then she went back into the bedroom, threw the empty rucksack onto the bed and unzipped it. She started to fill it with Leo’s emergency stash. Bundle after blessed bundle. Leo had told her there was a hundred thousand behind the wall. She took the whole lot and stuffed it into the bag.

Once all the money was out, she rummaged around in the cavity, determined to get everything, not wanting to pass up a single package, grinning now because Leo had come through for her even from beyond the grave, God bless his cheating arse. Now she was going to be able to pay Jack Rackland, get the ball rolling. Suddenly her hand encountered not more money but two different items.

She pulled out the first, her grin fading and a frown forming in its place. What the…?