Where the Memories Lie (37 page)

quarry tiles.’

‘Oh, no.’ I closed my eyes and tried not to picture it, but an

image of the scene flew into my head. I sucked in lungfuls of air,

my head spinning.

‘I thought she was pretending at first. I yelled at her to get up.

I kicked her foot but nothing happened. That was when I noticed

the blood pooling out onto the tiles beneath her head along with

some kind of other fluid.’

I fought the urge to retch. We’d been walking over that floor

for years and all that time it was where Katie had been killed. No

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matter how much scrubbing and cleaning you do, how can you ever

get rid of that?

‘We’d done a first aid course a few months before at college and

I felt her pulse. There was nothing there. She was already dead

and it was too late to do anything. It was an accident. A terrible

accident. I didn’t mean to kill her. I didn’t know what to do next.

I panicked. I panicked and ran home. I expected the police to knock on my door any second. But they didn’t. No one came. No one said

anything about Katie being dead.’

‘Because everyone thought she’d run away,’ I said bitterly.

‘Yes.’ Her hands trembled at her sides.

I stood up and walked a few paces, hands on hips, staring

at the ground, fighting for breath. ‘I can’t believe it.’ I thought about the scene in Tom’s room when DI Spencer and DS Khan

were questioning him. Nadia had said
Please, Dad.
At the time I’d thought she was pleading with him to tell the truth but it was the

exact opposite. She was pleading with him to stay quiet.

‘He was protecting me. Everything he did was to protect me.’

‘So you just let Tom take the blame for it? How could you? How

selfish could you be? What did he say to you afterwards? “Oh, hi,

Nadia. I’ve just cleared up that little mess you left in the kitchen and buried her under the garage. Don’t worry – it’ll be our little secret!

Oh, and can you pass the mashed potato, please? I’m starving”?’

I screamed out. ‘You let everyone think it was Tom! You let me think it was Ethan! You put us through all this and you had the bloody

cheek to blame me for it all!’ I slapped her hard across the face, my chest heaving with rage.

Her head jerked sideways and she put a hand to her cheek.

Her shoulders sagged. ‘I deserve that.’

‘Did Ethan know?’ I glared at her.

She dropped her hand and stared out in the distance.

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‘
Did he?
’ I grabbed her chin between my forefinger and thumb and forced her to look at me.

‘No. No one knew. It wasn’t my decision in the end. When I

came home Dad was working in the garden. I told him what had

happened. I cried and cried and told him how it had been a horrible accident. He told me to stay where I was and not to tell anyone.

Not a soul. Ever. Maybe if there had been a trial I would’ve been

convicted of manslaughter, not murder, but in those days if you

killed someone you were sent to prison for life, not the few years

you get now. And what if the jury didn’t believe it was really an

accident?’

I shook my head, dropped my hand, unable to bear touching

her anymore. I clenched my fists. ‘I can’t believe I’m hearing this.’

‘Dad didn’t want shame on the family. He didn’t want us all to

suffer. He disappeared and came back in the middle of the night.

All he said was that he’d dealt with it, and I could never tell a soul.

When the police didn’t come knocking and everyone was saying

Katie had left the village I thought that maybe I’d got it wrong.

That she was still alive and really had got up from the floor after I left and just run away. That I hadn’t really killed her, it was all just some horrendous nightmare. But then . . . I understood. Sometimes

I’d catch Dad looking at me in a certain way. As if he was in agony.

And I knew that if she was really alive she would’ve never left me

and Lucas alone. She would’ve done everything she’d threatened

to do and more. Lucas would be in prison for rape and I’d be right

alongside him for attempted murder or something. Dad covered it

up − buried her body, somewhere they’d never find her. So as the

days went on I knew Dad had done what he had to do to protect

me. He kept the secret until he couldn’t remember not to anymore.’

I shook my head, my bones feeling too heavy to stand. Dizziness

took over, and I sank back to the slippery, sodden ground again.

‘You have to go to the police. Tell them now what happened.’

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Where the Memories Lie

‘I can’t. Don’t you understand? Not with Charlotte like this!’

‘So we just carry on hiding this, do we?’ I wanted to slap her

again, then caught myself. I was letting my anger unleash itself, just like she’d done all those years ago with dire consequences. ‘Can you live with this?’ I let out a mirthless laugh. ‘Oh, yeah, I forgot. You have been for twenty-five years!’

‘It was an accident. A horrible, horrible accident. I never meant

for it to happen. There hasn’t been a single day that I didn’t wish I’d done something differently. But I’ve tried to make up for what

I did. Doing the volunteer work for children’s charities, being a good wife and mother. Looking after my family. It was my redemption.

I’ve tried to be a good person. Tried to pay for it all. To balance the good with the bad. And now I’m paying the worst kind of price.

Charlotte. It’s motherly karma, isn’t it? Maybe she has to die for it all to be made right.’

The wind grated on my skin; the rain stung my eyes. A chill

worked its way through my bones, like spiders crawling deep inside.

‘What are you going to do?’ she asked.

I stared down at Tate Barn in the distance, wanting to set the

place on fire. ‘I don’t know.’

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Epilogue

I used to think that everything was black and white. Crimes should

be punished. People shouldn’t tell lies. Not big ones, anyway. Not

important I’ve-just-killed-someone lies. But then, I’d never been in this situation before.

Katie was a liar. She was manipulative; a thief; maybe even

toxic. But she was also a desperate, vulnerable young woman to

whom fate had dealt a horrible hand. I also know she could be kind

and compassionate and warm. Maybe she went about things the

wrong way, but unless you’ve lived her life, how do you know you’d

do things any differently?

But what Nadia did was wrong. She should’ve admitted it at

the time. Confessed that it was an argument that had gone horribly

wrong. An awful accident. She didn’t. Who knows what would have

happened if she had? It’s too late to speculate and too late to change the past. What’s done is done. The only thing I’m thinking about

now is the future.

And I have thought. Long and hard. For days I’ve tried to

decide what to do. Should I keep the secret Tom made a decision

to keep all those years ago? Should I let him go to his grave with

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people thinking he’s a murderer? Should I respect his wishes, even

if people think he’s guilty of something he’d never done? Should

I expose Nadia?

In the end it comes down to one thing.

Family.

Charlotte needs Nadia. She needs her family to stay together

and support her through her illness. If she goes into remission it

could take months of treatment, years, and she could still relapse

and have to go through it all again. And if the treatment doesn’t

work, well . . . Either way, how can I tear Nadia away from Charlotte when she needs her the most? None of this is Charlotte’s fault. How can I break up their family when they needed to cling on to each

other tightly? Despite Lucas’s affair, which thankfully now seems to be over, he needs Nadia to be there, as well, to help him get through this. They all need each other.

Anna also needs to believe her aunt is all the things she seems:

kind, compassionate, caring; the foundation that holds the Tates

together. Ethan and Chris need their sister, too. Should all these

people have to pay their own price if Nadia is convicted?

Tom knew what he was doing when he buried Katie. I don’t

agree with it. Not any of it. But he knew. It was his choice. He

lived by the code he’d always steadfastly believed in. He made that decision to cover up what Nadia did and stuck by it. It’s what he

wanted. His sacrifice to his family. He’s paid the ultimate price to keep the truth from being discovered. He’s given his life so he can never reveal what really happened. Parental love is like nothing on Earth. Immeasurable in its strength. The fierce, burning need to

protect. To do anything it takes to keep them safe. Tom’s love for

Nadia. My love for Anna. Nadia’s love for Charlotte. The fallout

from the world believing Tom was responsible is far less for us than it would be if they knew the truth. The Tates have suffered enough

devastation as it is. Do we need any more?

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Where the Memories Lie

I’m weighing up opposite ends of the scale in my hands.

Truth and lies. Justice and complicity.

It’s an impossible choice. Can I really let the truth go unpun-

ished? Let a lie prevail?

I now believe there’s a hazy line between right and wrong. Am

I walking on the right side of the wrong line, or the wrong side of the right line?

Life is messy. There is no black and white, only blurred shades

that intermingle and co-exist. How can I destroy the people who

mean more to me than anything in the world?

Our Range Rover pulls up at the crematorium behind the funeral

car and it disappears into a tunnel marked ‘Private’.

Ethan parks and turns off the engine. He glances over at me and

I’m lost in his eyes. My heart contracts with love. He isn’t just my husband. He’s my friend, my lover, my life. He means everything to

me. I’d accused him of killing my childhood friend. Of killing his

own father. Heinous crimes that I should’ve known he could never

commit. I don’t know if I deserve his forgiveness, but I pray for it with all my heart. We have a lifetime of history. A lifetime of love and memories. You can’t just give that up. Things are far from perfect between us, but at least he’s talking to me again. At least he can bear to have me near him, and that gives me hope. I’ll work on that.

Whatever it takes. Piece by piece, I’ll do anything to rebuild the trust.

I touch his hand. He pauses for a moment and lets it rest there,

his eyes fluttering closed before he gets out of the car.

I exit, too. Wrap an arm around Anna and kiss the top of her head.

So, yes, I’ll do this. For my family, I’ll do anything to keep them whole. Keep them safe. Just like Tom wanted. This time I can’t go

to the police.

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Nadia, Charlotte and Lucas get out of Lucas’s car and greet

us solemnly. Chris has refused to come. In time I hope he forgives

Tom. Forgives me, too, for what I’m about to do.

Nadia’s gaze seeks out mine above Anna’s head. There’s a ques-

tion in her eyes. I glance away.

‘Shall we go in?’ Ethan takes hold of Anna’s hand.

‘I’ll be there in a minute,’ I say.

I watch their retreating backs, their blackness making them

look like a swarm of rooks.

Rose had made it clear to the police that she didn’t want anyone

from our family to go to Katie’s service, but I still want to say my own goodbye to a friend I once loved.

I walk away from the building out into the gardens. I know

which plot it is from DI Spencer, who attended her funeral. I head

past engraved plaques and flowers and plastic toys and photos and

balloons that people have left for their loved ones.

And there she is. Finally marked with a proper grave. A deserved

resting place.

The brass plaque reads
Katie Quinn. 1972 – 1990
.
Beloved
Daughter.

I’m too busy biting back the tears to laugh at those words Rose

has added.
Beloved Daughter
? I wonder again what Katie meant in her letter about them knowing what they did. Had Jack really

sexually abused her, or had she been talking about the neglect?

I suppose I will never know now. Some of the secrets Katie had have been buried with her.

I want to tell her something. Say a big speech that expresses

everything I’m feeling, but I don’t know how to say it all. And words are sorely inadequate. In the end, I crouch down in front of the

plaque, touch my fingertips to my lips and then press them against

the cool metal.

Goodbye, Katie. I’m sorry. So, so sorry.

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Where the Memories Lie

I rise and go inside. There are no friends of Tom’s sitting in

the pews. He’d lost touch with some when the Alzheimer’s began,

and the few who were left have either died or probably want to

distance themselves from what he’s done. There are some employees

of Tate Construction here, and I nod to them as they look at me

with sympathy.

Anna starts crying. I hold her close to me, stroking her hair.

Ethan sits rigid on the other side of Anna. Nadia is on the

opposite end of the pew. Tears stream silently down her face.

One of Lucas’s arms is around her, one protectively round