Хилари Боннер - Death Comes First

‘Well, I knew you wouldn’t rest till you found him. I thought if I had Fred then I could let you find me, when the time was right, and we could all be together again, somewhere away from your father’s clutches.’

‘So what changed your mind about that? You didn’t wait. You’ve snatched Molly and me too.’

‘It’s not like that, really it’s not like that. Fred wouldn’t come with me. He wouldn’t go anywhere without you two. Mark as well, Fred said at first, but I think I’ve talked him out of that.’

‘You’ve talked him out of that?’ Joyce queried, incredulous. ‘He’s an eleven-year-old boy — what did you think you were doing, putting him in a position where he was having to make such monumental decisions about his own future? Was he going to run away with Daddy or was he going to stay with Mummy? For God’s sake, Charlie, how could you?’

‘Look, I’ve told you everything. You know the truth about your father now. You know how he seduced me, and corrupted me—’

‘Don’t you take responsibility for anything, ever?’

‘I’m trying to,’ said Charlie.

He stepped back from her at last, everything about his body language unthreatening. She still felt threatened. She made no attempt to move away either from him or the car.

‘I came to my senses in the end. It took a long time, but I did it. That’s what this is all about. So now can we talk about the future? Our future. I want us to be together, away from all of this. That’s all. That’s all I have ever wanted. Now we can do it, get away from your father and everything that is Tanner-Max for ever. He doesn’t even know I’m alive. We can do it, Joyce, you and me and the kids...’

Charlie carried on talking, but Joyce stopped listening. She slumped against the side of her car. He had to be mad; it was the only possible explanation. She felt numb. She didn’t know what to believe.

She waited until the drone of his voice finally stopped.

‘Did you shoot Dad, Charlie?’ she asked.

Charlie looked aghast. ‘Don’t be ridiculous. Apart from the fact that I don’t have a gun and wouldn’t know how to begin, I’ve been here, two and a half hours from Bristol, all day. Apart from driving over the moors to send those texts. Still miles from Bristol. And with Fred, the whole time. Ask him.’

‘I have no intention of asking our son anything. If you didn’t do it yourself, are you sure you weren’t involved in some way? Are you sure you don’t know who shot Dad?’

‘Of course not.’

Joyce thought Charlie didn’t look too certain, but he gave her no time to question him further.

‘I just want to look to our future. I want to take you and our children away. I want us to start a new life. That’s all I have ever wanted.’

Joyce was wondering how to end the conversation and get away from this place when a voice from somewhere behind her cut in.

‘Is it? Well then, what a fool I have been.’

It was the voice of a young woman, instantly familiar. But so out of context Joyce couldn’t place it at first.

She was still struggling with her memory when a female figure dropped athletically into the barn from the top of the broken wall upon which she had apparently been perched, listening to everything that had been said.

It was a young woman wearing grey jeans, grey jacket, and a grey woolly hat.

Monika.

Charlie took a single step towards her.

‘What the hell are you doing here?’ he asked. ‘I told you to stay in the flat.’

‘And you think always I am going to do what you say, eh?’ responded Monika.

She seemed to be seething with anger. Her English was not nearly as good as usual.

Charlie turned to face Joyce again. Joyce just stared at Monika.

‘What is the matter, Joycey, you never look at me before, is that it?’ Monika enquired, using Charlie’s name for Joyce, and loading it with sarcasm.

‘That is possible, no? After all, Mrs Mildmay, I am a servant only.’

Joyce stepped back and, out of habit, looked towards Charlie, seeking reassurance, or at least an explanation.

He seemed to be rooted to the spot. His mouth had fallen open. He said nothing.

Joyce turned towards Monika again. Her being there was so absurd, so ridiculously out of context that Joyce couldn’t make sense of it. Why would Monika be doing this? Speaking to her as if she had a nasty taste in her mouth. As if she hated Joyce. Monika, who came into her home and looked after her children and managed her affairs. But this was a different Monika. An arrogant, angry Monika. The look in her eyes was chilling.

Monika turned on Charlie then. ‘You bastard liar,’ she yelled, so angry she was trembling with rage. ‘I hear every word you say to your... your wife. Think what I do for you. The risks I take. I help you steal car. Because I believe you. I believe it is all for us. For you and me. The only way, you say. Now I know truth. You use me to get you out of fucking mess. That is what you do.’

‘No,’ said Charlie. He turned to Joyce. ‘You have to believe me, darling. I have no idea what she’s talking about.’

Monika narrowed her eyes and took a step towards Charlie.

Joyce wouldn’t have thought it was possible for him to look any more grey. But he did. He was standing quite still. She saw his Adam’s apple move, as if he was trying to swallow, but without much success.

Her own mouth was dry. No doubt his was too.

What had he done? What had Charlie got himself into? And how had she remained so totally unaware of it? Or was she kidding herself? There had been times over the years when she’d suspected that he was seeing someone else. Times when he’d disappear in the early hours or come home way after midnight without explanation. But she had not suspected anything like this. How could she? Never in a million years had she suspected that her husband might be engaged in a relationship with Monika. Neither had she suspected that Monika could be so full of hatred.

Suddenly she could contain herself no longer.

‘So this is the truth, then, Charlie,’ she said. ‘Nothing to do with your stupid conscience or my father’s alleged greed. You staged your own death to be with a girl young enough to be your daughter, a girl about the same age as your eldest son. Someone I trusted in my home. Now I understand.’

‘No, you don’t understand anything,’ said Charlie. ‘I never wanted to be with Monika. But I had to escape. I thought your father would find me wherever I went and whatever I did. Unless he thought I was dead. I couldn’t do it alone. I couldn’t. I used Monika — she’s right about that. I didn’t do it to be with her. I had no intention of being with her. It was you I wanted, Joyce. You and our children. I thought the letter would alert you. I suppose I put too much store on it...’

‘You say you had no intention of being with me?’ Monika stepped forward. ‘You use me? Now you tell me, yes, that is so?’

‘Shut up!’ commanded Charlie.

He didn’t even look at her. His eyes remained fixed on Joyce. Pleading eyes.

‘You betray me,’ said Monika. ‘I believed in you.’

‘I told you to shut up,’ Charlie shouted, still not looking at her.

‘Then that is it,’ Monika said. Her voice suddenly confident. ‘I go to the police. I will tell them everything I know. You will go to prison, Charlie. You commit many crimes. There is abduction, I think you embezzle money from your company. And, what is the charge? You pervert the course of justice. I think also there is more I do not know about. You will go to prison for long time, Charlie. And I will be glad.’ She gave a short bitter laugh. ‘I go to the police. I shall tell everything.’

‘No, you mustn’t do that,’ said Charlie, his voice calm.