Behind A Twisted Smile (Dark Minds Book 2) (22 page)

No, I wouldn’t. Cheats and liars have no scruples. Murderers even less. And I was certain Martyn was a murderer.

It didn’t come as a surprise to me that Martyn was trying to sell the house and release some capital. I almost smiled as I realised his dilemma. There was a small matter of some family business which neither Faye nor Kate would have known. Before Dad died, he made sure we four sisters each had equal shares in the family sweet factory. The amount was a tidy sum, but because it was a private company and not public, the small print stipulated that on any of our deaths, the shares would revert back to the company and be recycled among the remaining sisters. Martyn might have known Evie was worth thousands, but he could never get his hands on a penny. I wondered how strapped for cash he really was.

Kaye blithely carried on talking, and for the first time, I realised how insensitive she could be. “Martyn sometimes asks after you. He says he’s concerned you’ll never get over finding Evie like that. He blames himself for leaving her. He had no way of knowing she would call you and ask you to come over. He feels really bad about that. Poor Martyn, he’s such a darling man and so courageous and compassionate.”

Kate really had no idea. She didn’t know that it was Martyn who suggested Evie telephone and invite me to go over that dreadful day. I excused myself and made for the ladies. All this talk of Martyn and his blatant lies made me want to vomit.

Chapter 29

The morning was crisp and dry, not a trace of a cloud in the pale-blue spring sky. It was a day for flinging open the windows and letting the cobwebs blow away. I always considered March in England to be a special month. Daffodils, primroses and other flowers raised their heads towards the milder weather, new-born lambs skipped around the pastures, and birds began building their nests. Easter wasn’t far off, and people could turn their thoughts to the possibility of a hot and sunny summer. No one could persuade me that England could be beaten when the weather was glorious.

Christmas and New Year had come and gone almost without a whimper. I received fewer party invites than usual but put it down to people thinking I was still mourning, which I was, but now, gradually, I was clawing my way back up through the murk of despair to fresher, cleaner air.

I had been suffering with ‘flu for a week or so. At first I thought it just a cold, but with hundreds of cases popping up, I knew I was fooling myself. So I bought up almost entire stocks of painkillers and throat lozenges as well as various other potent items from the chemist and locked myself away at home. I considered myself to be the world’s worst patient and thought it better no one came near me.

This ‘flu strain was apparently the worst to hit for years, and I suffered for ten days. I must have been at low ebb. ‘Rundown’ as my mum would say. Gradually, as the fever left me, I recovered enough to get out of bed and drag myself into the kitchen to prepare soup or tea. A hacking cough accompanied my still aching head, and judging by the haggard face when I looked in the mirror, I had lost pounds in weight.

Jon, thank goodness, never needed to know how ghastly I looked, as I wasn’t into those horrid ‘selfies’ and kept the camera off when we Skyped each other. He flew to the States early on in my illness, and I had told him in no uncertain terms over the phone not to come round before he went, as I was contagious. I felt bad letting him go without a proper goodbye, but he had a job to do, and the last thing he needed was a case of ‘flu like mine. We talked about his year abroad, and I decided there was still too much uncertainty over Evie’s death for my liking. Without telling Jon the real reason, I said I would stay here. I sweetened my decision by agreeing to join him for a couple of long stays when the weather turned better in late spring.

That day, as I dressed, I realised it had been weeks since I had either gone running or even visited the gym. I grimaced again at my reflection. Never had I seen such huge dark circles lurking below my eyes as those I saw then. What with my lacklustre hair and pallid skin, I could easily have been an escaped waxwork model from Madame Tussaud’s. Drastic measures were needed, and I had to get better as soon as possible.

I made some tea and toast and forced it down my throat. As I ate, I cast a look round my flat. Ever since Evie’s death, I had let things get on top of me, and because I didn’t think I could cope with strangers wandering around, I took it off the market. I still had a sense of my home being soiled after Martyn’s trespass, but as I had neither seen nor heard for him since Christmas, I was keeping my fingers crossed that he was finally leaving me alone. Besides I had since learnt that he had other matters on his mind.

Feeling full, I rinsed my cup and plate and shoved them in the dishwasher. What next? I had cancelled all work for that week, and glancing round the place, I knew it could do with a clean. Had I the energy to drag a vacuum cleaner round? I wondered. Mum had offered, but I told her to stay clear. Ever since the funeral, she had become much older and frailer. I couldn’t cope if she caught ‘flu and it turned to pneumonia. The news was full of how many old people succumbed to complications and died. I decided to ring her that day and let her know I was nearly better and arrange a lunchtime treat later in the week.

My phone beeped, and I picked it up to read the text. It was Faye asking how I was and could she call round to see me. No, I thought, not yet. Her ‘disloyalty’ still rankled. I replied with a short message saying I still felt lousy. It was better to let more time pass, as I didn’t trust my temper.

After our pre-Christmas lunch together, I wondered just how cosy she had become with Martyn. She had always championed his cause, saying he cared for me,
ad nauseam,
etcetera, etcetera. When I tried to tell her for the final time that he wasn’t caring or nice or what he seemed to be, she got annoyed.

“Just listen to yourself!” She flared up. “Stop it. Stop trying to turn everyone against him. Martyn is as puzzled over your behaviour as we all are.”

“All? Who have you been discussing me with?” I demanded.

She waved a hand dismissively. “Just the usual friends…Simon, Kate, Jon.”

“Jon? You discussed this and went behind my back with Jon? How dare you? I don’t want Jon involved in this.”

“Involved in what? Martyn finished with you, fell in love with Evie. End of story. He’s just an ordinary guy wanting an ordinary life. Get over it or…or—” She stopped.

“Or what?”

“We’re finished as friends.”

I knew then there was nothing to gain by flogging a dead horse, and we shortened our evening together. On the few occasions I had seen her since then, Faye and I were polite with each other but hardly the bosom pals we had been since school. She was so protective where Martyn was concerned, I wondered if she had the hots for him. No, surely not.

How could I have known I was barking up the wrong tree?

With the herald of spring, I felt the final betrayal when I learnt Kate and Martyn had gone off to Scotland. Not only had they just gone off
together,
but apparently, they disappeared not long after New Year. No one had had the decency to inform me, or maybe they wanted to spare me Martyn’s latest transgression. He hadn’t long been widowed, for Christ’s sake! Either way, I was furious that I wasn’t kept in the loop. I always hated secrets.

I realised with a jolt I had been so wrapped up in worrying about Darcy and Faye getting involved with Martyn, Jon going off to the States and me being ill that I hadn’t seen it coming. But of course, Kate was the wealthy one here, and I recognised Martyn was madly attracted to wealth. Apparently, he hadn’t sold his house yet, and no doubt his nursing salary wasn’t enough to fuel his desired lifestyle.

I was jolted out of my reflections by a harsh banging on my door. Wearily, I dragged myself along the hall to see who it was.

“Faye!”

“You look bloody awful,” she said, planting a foot over the threshold and barging past me before I could keep her out. She didn’t look her usual pretty self either, I thought. “Why don’t you answer my calls? We’ve got to talk.”

I followed her down to the kitchen, where she plopped her bag down on the table, unwound a multi-coloured silk scarf from around her neck and shrugged her coat off.

“Sit down,” she ordered. “Is the coffee still in the same place?”

I nodded and flopped into the nearest chair. I think walking to answer the front door was the farthest I had gone in a week.

After filling the kettle, she turned to face me, leaning a hip against the cupboard unit. Seeing her bleak expression, I knew something was wrong.

“Something terrible has happened,” she whispered and burst into tears.

Chapter 30

Having Faye appear and in such distress galvanised me into action. My selfish feelings of lethargy and loneliness disappeared instantly. My friend needed me.  I sat her down, made a strong pot of coffee and once she got her sobs under control, asked her exactly what she meant.

“She’s been involved in an accident.”

“Who?”

“Kate.”

“Oh my God! How bad is she? What happened?”

Faye shook her head. “She’s broken her neck and she’s in a coma. She was up a ladder and it slipped.”

My mouth dropped open. “Bloody hell! But what was she doing up a ladder, and where did this happen?”

“There was a cat, or a kitten, I don’t know. It had climbed from a bedroom window in the place she and Martyn were staying in and got stuck on a piece of jagged slate.”

“Cats can usually look after themselves. It still doesn’t explain why she…why not someone else? Why not Martyn, for instance? Wasn’t he with her?”

“The cat got its collar caught. It was slowly being strangled. I don’t know all the details.” Faye wailed as her voice went up an octave. “Oh Moya, it’s awful. Poor Kate. I have to go up and see her. Simon’s come down with the ‘flu and can’t travel, and Mum and Dad are away in Spain. Will you come with me? Please? I know you’ve been ill and we haven’t…you know…”

“Don’t be daft, of course I’ll come.” She hadn’t answered my question so I repeated it. “But why did Kate go up a ladder? Where was Martyn?” I guessed the answer before she opened her mouth. He was a wizard in being somewhere else at the right time.

“He went for a walk down by the loch and was on the far side of the house where they were staying. He didn’t know what was going on. It’s a bed and breakfast. Martyn wandered down to the water’s edge, and the house owner, who was already down there in his boat, offered to take him out. His wife had gone shopping, and there was no one else who could help the kitten down. Apparently, Kate must have recalled there was a ladder lying around because the owner had been painting the upstairs windows the day before. It seems she put the ladder in position and climbed the damn thing to get it down. It must have slipped on the icy patio tiles. It’s still cold and frosty up in Scotland at night.”

“Really?” I couldn’t look Faye in the eye. It all sounded too contrived, too convenient. A cat stuck on a tile? Ice on the path? No one else around? Both men conveniently off fishing? Yeah, right.

Faye started to sob again. “Kate’s so stupid at times. She’s always had a soft touch for animals. Look where it’s landed her. Oh I hope she’ll be all right.” She raised a tear-streaked face to me. “What if we’re too late?”

“We won’t be. We all love animals and often do daft things. Come on, be positive. Kate took herself off to Scotland. There was nothing to stop her. Do you know which hospital and everything?”

She hiccupped and nodded. “Edinburgh.”

“That’s handy—we can fly up. We’ll be there in a couple of hours. Thank goodness I haven’t got Jon’s dog to worry about. As soon as I felt the ‘flu coming on, I got Mum and Darcy to have him. I thought he’d be good for Darcy…give her something to do instead of being miserable.”

“But I hate asking you to come. You’ve not been well. You look awful.”

“Thanks for that. Give me five minutes to change into something smarter than these old jogging pants and put a lick of make-up on. Then you can’t accuse me of frightening the other passengers. You phone the airline and book two seats and we’ll be off. Stop looking so worried. She’s in the best possible place. The doctors will do everything they can.”

***

Faye and I reached Edinburgh in good time and caught a taxi to the infirmary. On arrival, we were directed to the ICU unit and shown inside by a nurse dressed in theatre scrubs. Martyn knew we were coming and was seated in her cubicle by her bedside, holding Kate’s hand between both of his. He raised his head at our entrance and uttered a cry of despair. Something sour rose in my throat at the sight of him. He never missed a trick.

We exchanged a long guarded look, but I told myself this wasn’t about me or Evie or Martyn. This was about Kate and I had to hold my tongue. Now wasn’t the time to voice or even think about Martyn’s part in Kate’s accident.

We exchanged greetings. Martyn held out his arms to both of us, and for once, for Faye’s sake, I allowed him to hug and kiss me. I used the time to stare at Kate over his shoulder and was horrified to see traces of blood still clinging to her nostrils and left ear, some sort of splint around her neck. I was no nurse. I should have expected the worst with a head injury. Even so, seeing her linked up to IV tubing, a ventilator and heaven knew what else was a tremendous shock.