Memory Scents (9 page)

             “
Very well, thank you, Mother. I’ve got some bits and pieces to do here but the previous people did the main work which has made it all a lot easier. The area is really nice and I’ve made a couple of friends already.”

              “Oh how lovely for you darling. Your Father and I are hoping to come and visit you before Christmas. Is the house habitable?”

              “Yes, it’s fine Mother,” Chrissie rolled her eyes to the heavens, “and it’ll probably be completely sorted by the time you and Dad get here. While you’re on the line Mum, do you remember anything about a series of child murders that happened in this area? It was quite a few years ago but some of them would have been about the time we came down here on holiday.”

              The line went quiet and Chrissie wondered if they’d been cut off.

              “Mum, are you still there?”

 
              “Yes, darling…I’m just trying to remember…I can vaguely recall something about it. Why?”

“Oh nothing really, it’s just something that was being discussed in the pub the other night and I wondered why I couldn’t recall anything about it. It was obviously a major enquiry.”

              “Yes, yes it must have been…oh sorry darling I must go there’s someone at the door. Daddy sends his love, speak soon…”

“Oh, ok, by Mum. Love to you all too…” she found herself saying to a dead line.

              Sylvia didn’t have anyone at her door at all, and she’d remembered, as if it were yesterday, what Chrissie was asking her about. How could she forget that her precious daughter could have so easily been one of the victims?

              That was one of the reasons why she and Peter, Chrissie’s father, hadn’t wanted her to move there. But Chrissie had seen it as another one of their over protective episodes. They had often wondered if they should have told her when she got older, because for some strange reason Chrissie quickly forgot about the whole incident, which had been a blessing in disguise. They had watched her like a hawk and taken her to the doctors for regular checkups after the attack. The doctor had told them it was quite common for a child to temporarily erase a frightening memory from their brain due to shock. And that was exactly what Chrissie had done. So, throughout her life she had been unaware of why her parents and her sisters were so protective of her. She had often complained that they suffocated her, when actually it was because they were all still living through the terrible awareness that things could have been so awfully different and that they felt incredibly blessed to have her with them.

              They had all been heart broken when she announced she was moving away and even more distressed when she told them where she was going. But they couldn’t protect her forever and while they were suffocating her with their love, they all knew that they were slowly losing her.

            
Sylvia had thought it was best she didn’t know the truth because she was frightened of how it would affect her daughter’s life. Chrissie was such a free spirited child; a trait that Sylvia was glad hadn’t been shocked out of her by that horrible incident. She just hoped and prayed that after the telephone conversation they’d just had, her memory didn’t come flooding back.

*

Dear Alice,

              I dreamt about you again last night, but it felt different to what I normally dream.

              You were in your favourite night dress. You know the white one with the embroidered panel down the front? You’d worn it the night before you went away.

Anyway, you were standing in a clearing, surrounded by trees with a field behind you. You were beckoning me to come towards you.

              We hugged and hugged for what seemed like an age. It was so real Alice! The feeling has stayed with me all day like a scent that clings to your skin. I could even smell your beautiful blonde hair. We didn’t speak, just held each other. The relief I felt in my sleep was incredible and I was quite upset when I awoke. I felt free for the first time in so many years. Like this massive weight had lifted from me. Of course, when I first awoke I didn’t know where I was because the dream was so vivid. I ran into your bedroom knowing I was going to see you laying there asleep. But then reality hit me like an iron wall. I sat on your bed for a long time wishing I could swap it all for my dreams.

              Daddy told me to go back to bed and get some more sleep, which was what I did in the hope that I would see you again. But there was nothing.

              The sleep did me good though, because when I awoke again I realised how lucky I was to have that dream. I feel that it is another sign. I think it was you letting me know that we will see you again very soon, a bit like a premonition.

              Daddy is still trying to talk me into going on holiday with him, but when I suggested to him about taking one of his fishing friends with him I think he realised that I’m not going to budge on my decision, especially not after this. It isn’t that Daddy doesn’t love you darling. It’s just his way of dealing with it all.

              Anyway, he seems to be resigned to the fact that I won’t go on holiday with him and he’s thinking about taking your Uncle Tim with him instead.

Loving you always,

Mummy xxx

*

NORFOLK 1998

              Tim sat in his draughty old shed and, pulling his coat tighter around him he took a large slurp of his hot toddy, the ratio of which was more rum than coffee. The weather had suddenly turned cold because of the bad winds whipping across from the sea. It felt like winter already and it was only September. The wind whisked around the shed making a noise that could be mistaken for people whispering outside. But Tim was familiar with these old noises caused by the wind tunnel that was their garden. When Grace and he had first lived there and he was just beginning to collect his memory scents and store them in his new shed, he’d thought it was a ghost haunting him. He chuckled at this thought, remembering how naïve and impatient he’d been in his younger days in comparison to the confident and relaxed person he was now.

              He needed time to sit and think about his options because he was becoming very bored. Retirement had done Tim no favours whatsoever, and more to the point it wouldn’t help the local community if he decided to continue with his old games. Not that this little fact bothered his conscience.

              Tim needed to think carefully about the whole thing even though his urges had been getting unbearable. He had managed to take the edge off that though, by stealing a few items of clothing here and there. His best ones had been from Chrissie’s place. Her smells held a special mixture of memories for him. She was connected to the past, from a time that had been filled with excitement and danger for him. Sniffing her clothes was a bit like smelling all his victims at once from a fresh scent altogether. Although he was still sore about the fact she hadn’t become another of his conquests.  But he had to be grateful for what he could get at the moment and she was a link to tide him over for the time being.

              He loved the power he had of frightening her and the fact that he could so easily get into her house without her knowing and rifle through her linen basket; stealing various items of clothing. He had so far taken a couple of vest tops and an old cardigan because it was small and reminded him of a child’s pullover. Tim never took underwear. He’d never been a knickers man unless they were on little girls. The smell of a woman had never turned him on and actually only served to repulse him. So Chrissie’s dirty underwear had been removed from her linen basket with a look of disgust on his face, like he was removing a dead mouse from a trap. He’d never been able to understand those types of men who took so much pleasure from smelling women’s knickers. Even going as far as buying them from people who advertised in magazines. They were dirty perverts as far as he was concerned.

              The problem Tim had was that he realised there had been an element of luck involved when he had played his games and got away with it. He knew that he was incredibly clever; bordering on genius he liked to think. But if he hadn’t been in the police force he knew he would have been looked at closely like every other man in the area and remembering lies as you wove them would have made the whole process much harder. As he often reflected on it, it had all been fairly straightforward and easy; he’d felt like a child in a sweet shop. There was one little problem he had with it being so many years on, and that was the discovery of DNA. He was always very careful not to leave anything behind anywhere but he knew now that with technology becoming so advanced, low copy DNA evidence would soon be utilised within the forensic world, he’d read about it. It wasn’t too much of a problem for him because he wasn’t registered on the national database anyway, not having a criminal record. But even so, he had to be careful.

              The other factor that he was worried about was the CID department and all the new police officers that he didn’t know. He’d started in the police force extremely young and had served his thirty years. Most of the officers he’d worked with were also retired or had left on ill health. The new crowd was much more on the ball than when he’d been a serving police officer. In the days when he served the community it was much more laid back, especially in the villages. If you misbehaved you got a clip round the ear or a warning. Whereas now, it wasn’t just the community that was watched but you and your colleagues too; everyone was under suspicion. The fresh blood wouldn’t take any notice of anyone telling them that he was a respectable, retired policeman who had served his community well.

              His mind drifted backwards and forwards like a swaying ship. Jonathan, Alice, Nadine….

              His thoughts flitted back to Chrissie, and he chuckled to himself as he remembered seeing her frightened face squashed up against the tiny window of her front door; full of panic and shock. If she’d had any common sense, she would have turned her indoor lights off and looked out of her window. He thought everyone knew that you could see into someone’s house when they had the lights on, and they couldn’t see out unless they turned them off. He’d almost fallen over with laughter when he’d seen her scream at her own reflection. Scraping a razor blade on her windows was working a treat, but he needed to be careful that he didn’t get seen there. Luckily, Grace had come home from Chrissie’s the other day, saying that she had her friend Sarah arriving for a few days, so he stayed well clear. It would also look like she’d lost the plot if she told her friend about the experiences and there didn’t appear to be any evidence of it.

              A few days break from Chrissie’s house would give him time to plan what he was going to do next.

*

NORFOLK 1987

              “I’ll meet you in the garden of that old derelict house, where we went the other day? I can’t talk to you at yours, I can’t risk anyone hearing.” Nadine pushed her mouth closer to the receiver as she said the last sentence. “Yes, I’m fine. Honestly. I’ll see you tomorrow. We can get in the house through the back door; some old tramp that was living there wrenched it open. Ok? I’ll see you in the morning.”

              Nadine hung up the phone in her parent’s bedroom and peered round the door to see if anyone was lurking before she ventured out.

              She crept across the hallway quietly so she could get to her room without anyone noticing. She checked again before closing her bedroom door behind her; the only person she hadn’t wanted to hear that conversation had been her father.

              Unfortunately for Nadine, that one and only person had been eavesdropping on her phone call, standing in the shadows of the study. He had crept outside the door and heard every word. He’d been watching her like a hawk since he’d caught her in his shed. He hadn’t been sure of what she’d seen at first, she wasn’t giving much away. But he’d felt a definite change in her attitude towards him. She’d sulked in her bedroom more than normal and had been distant and vague, distracted. Grace had put it down to hormones or that she was coming down with something.

              Nadine might have been hormonal on account of her age but she definitely wasn’t coming down with anything. She was so shell shocked by what she’d seen in her father’s shed. She’d looked in almost every box in there. At first she hadn’t realised what they were, but then she came across some items she recognised as belonging to one of her friends. That and the blood stains had given the game away.

              If she’d run into the house as she’d first intended after making the discovery, she’d probably have survived. But Tim had caught her on her way out of the shed door. Both startled at the sight of each other. The look on his face had made him appear unrecognisable to her and it had frightened her to the core. He didn’t have to say anything, that one look in the dusky light of the evening was enough to scare her into silence in case she had discovered his secret.

              Grace assumed Tim had scolded her badly for going in his shed and encroaching on his privacy.

              Nadine had kept it to herself for quite a few days. There had been a several occasions when she’d approached Grace to tell her but nothing would come out of her mouth and Tim was usually hovering nearby.

              She had to talk to someone about it, which was why she’d organised to meet up with her friend.

              It had been a race between good and evil. In those few days that she was trying to work things out in her head, Tim was plotting how he could get rid of her.

           
Unfortunately, he won the race, Nadine had spent too long mulling it over. It was all too huge for her to cope with and she’d had no idea what to do with the information she’d discovered. Apart from knowing that she had to report him, her father.