Bones Under The Beach Hut (26 page)

    Miranda's
words were heavy with the deadness of which she had spoken. Jude didn't say
anything, but she began to feel less guilty about the possible prurience of her
interest in the woman's tragedy. Talking, she knew, would be part of the
healing process for Miranda Browning. And if what the woman said helped Carole
and Jude in their investigation, well, that was just a bonus. But she wasn't
going to prompt, just let Miranda Browning talk if she wanted to.

    And
evidently she did want to. 'Now I know, you see. I am a woman whose child died.
A mother whose son died. It's not a nice thing to know, but it's now a fact.
Soon we'll have to have a funeral and all that entails. And presumably that'll
involve Rory and his parents ... it won't be easy.

    'Some
women who've lost children say it helps having the physical remains to mourn
and a grave to visit. Mothers of boys killed in war, that kind of thing. I
don't know whether that'll make much difference for me. I'm certainly not
expecting ever to feel . . . closure,' she said, echoing Carole. 'I don't think
I'll ever achieve closure. The loss of a child is like an open wound. It'll
never heal properly, but perhaps it can be dressed in such a way that you are
not in constant pain.'

    Jude
moved her hands to touch the sides of the woman's neck. 'I'm just going to do a
bit of ordinary massage. The muscles here are very knotted. And then we'll try
the proper healing.'

    Miranda
Browning submitted meekly as the fingers and thumbs probed into the taut flesh.
'Yes, I can feel that releasing something,' she said.

    Jude
feared that her interruption might have stemmed the woman's flow, but it
hadn't. 'What I hope will change is the amount of blaming I've done over the
last eight years. Blaming my ex-husband, blaming his parents, most of all
blaming myself. I must say I can't see that ever going away.'

    'Why
do you blame your husband's parents?' asked Jude, feigning a little more
ignorance than she actually had.

    'Oh,
don't you know the circumstances of Robin's disappearance? Sorry, there was so
much media coverage down here at the time I thought everyone knew every last
detail.'

    'I
wasn't living in Fethering when it happened.'

    'Ah.
Well, I've told it so many times, another telling won't hurt. I can almost do
it without getting upset now, so I suppose that's progress. Right. . .' And
Miranda Browning reiterated the information that Carole and Jude had found on
Wikipedia.

    But she
did add a few details that hadn't been available online. Yes, she and Rory had
gone to London to see a matinee of
Les Miserables,
leaving Robin in the
care of her husband's parents.

    'Joyce
and I never really got on. If she'd been in charge when Robin was abducted I
don't think I'd ever have forgiven her. With Lionel, well, it was a terrible
thing, but I liked him and he really adored Robin. No amount of blame from me
could equal the way he blamed himself for what happened. I don't think it'd be
overstating it to say that his life really stopped at that moment. He's been
kind of going through the motions ever since.'

    'And
what about Joyce?'

    Miranda
Browning shrugged. 'I don't think it made a lot of difference to her. She only
ever thinks about herself.'

    Jude
wondered whether this was just traditional daughter-in-law/mother-in-law
antipathy. It didn't fit in with what she had heard from Carole, though.
Granted, her neighbour hadn't spent much time with Joyce Oliver, but the comfortable
woman she had spoken of seemed to be at odds with Miranda's description.

    'And
it was on Smalting Beach that the abduction happened?'

    'Well,
on the prom. On June the fifteenth. Just a little over eight years ago. I don't
know why anniversaries have such significance, but I'm afraid they do.' For the
first time the woman's emotions threatened to overwhelm her. Her voice wobbled
for a moment, but she was quick to reassert control. 'Smalting Beach was quite
crowded. And Robin loved boats of all kinds, windsurfers in particular. I can
understand why Lionel let him stay outside the shop while he bought the ice
cream. I'm sure I would have done the same.'

    'But
if the beach was crowded, why didn't anyone witness the abduction?'

    Jude's
massaging fingers felt the shaking of Miranda's head. 'I thought that was
strange at first. But I think the fact that it was so crowded was the reason
why nobody noticed. Robin was a very trusting little boy - too trusting
probably. If a stranger had started talking to him, he wouldn't have been shy
about replying.'

    'Presumably
the police talked to your father-in-law about what had happened?'

    'Endlessly.
And he had to suffer the agony of being a suspect, all kinds of probing into
his private life, having his car forensically examined. It was very tough for
him. But he never changed a single detail of his story. Which shows it must
have been true - not that Lionel is capable of lying, anyway. He's a rather
splendid man, I think - certainly given what he's had to put up with from
Joyce.'

    Again
the apparently disproportionate animus against her mother-in-law. Jude would
have liked to have found out more about the reasons for that, but it wasn't the
moment to divert the course of Miranda's narrative.

    'No,
that's one of my great sadnesses about the whole thing - the estrangement from
Lionel. There are terribly destructive aftershocks from an event like what
happened to Robin.'

    'Presumably
it was that that broke up your marriage?'

    'Yes.
It had always been an on-off sort of relationship. But once he came back to me
and we got married, I'd hoped . . . Then Robin disappeared. There were a lot of
other things too. Small fault lines in the relationship that might, I suppose,
in other circumstances, have been papered over. But with Robin gone they became
huge great rifts. I don't really blame Rory. I just can't imagine any marriage
surviving something like that. All the time you spend together there's this one
huge subject looming over you. The elephant in the room. If you talk about it,
it's painful. If you don't talk about it, it's equally painful. Eventually you
just don't want to be together, you don't want to have the constant reminder of
your shared pain.

    'And,
of course, had circumstances been different, I suppose we might have had
another child. Been a proper little family. Still, it's too late to think about
that now.' She allowed herself a small sigh of frustration.

    'I
hope your second marriage has been happier.'

    Jude's
words were greeted by a grunt of cynicism.

    'No,
that one didn't last either. Less than a year. I was stupid to think it would
work. I'm afraid I'm not marriage material at the moment. I'm still just an
emotional minefield.'

    There
was a silence. Then Jude removed her hands from Miranda's neck and shoulders.
'Does that feel easier? Just move your head from side to side. See if it's less
tight.'

    The
client did as she was told. 'Yes, it is much better.'

    'That's
only alleviated the symptoms. Now I'll see if I can heal what's causing it.'

    'Good
luck,' said Miranda Browning, with a hint of bitterness. 'Sadly I don't think
healing can change history.'

    'No,
I agree. But it maybe can change the way you react to history.'

    'Diminish
how much I blame myself?'

    'Maybe
a bit. If you turn over and lie on your front, Miranda.'

    An
expression of intense concentration came into Jude's brown eyes as she ran her
hands along the contours of the woman's body. Once again there was no contact
made, but the effort was more intense and exhausting than it had been for the
actual massage.

    'Did
it actually help last time I did this?' Jude asked.

    'Yes,
it did for a few days. In fact I have felt generally better since then. That is
. . . until recent events.'

    'Yes,
it must be ghastly having it all brought back to you.'

    'Still,
maybe I will be able to find a workable
modus vivendi,
now there's no
longer any uncertainty.' But she didn't sound over-optimistic about the
prospect.

    'Presumably
. . .' Jude chose her words with sensitivity '. . . now the police actually
have a body, there's a stronger chance they may be able to track down the
perpetrator, you know, the person who actually abducted Robin?'

    'Maybe.
They certainly seem in no hurry to release the body. So presumably every kind
of forensic test is being . . .' The images this prompted were too graphic for
her to finish the sentence.

    'Were
there suspects at the time?'

    'The
usual ones. Everyone vaguely local who featured on the Sex Offenders Register.
They couldn't pin it on anyone, though. Lack of evidence.'

    'Did
you have any suspicions of anyone?'

    Miranda
Browning shook her head. 'It never occurred to me for a moment that it might be
anyone I had met.'

    'No.'
Jude didn't raise the fact that in a lot of such cases the perpetrator was
someone known to the family.

    'Do
you think it'll be a comfort to you when the culprit is found?'

    'I
really don't know. Whoever he is, I have hated him very deeply at times. At
times I know I have wanted him dead. How I'll react now, I've no idea. I didn't
know how I'd react to Robin's body being found. And through all the pain I
think there may eventually be a positive side to that. Maybe it'll be the same
when they arrest his murderer. As I say, at the moment I just don't know.'

    The
healing session, as ever, left Jude wrung out like a damp rag. Miranda Browning
was very grateful, saying that it had left her feeling more relaxed. But both
women knew that the residue of pain inside her was something that could never
be fully healed.

    'Which
tennis player was in every final of the Men's US Open Championship from 1982 to
1989?'

    Carole
and Jude looked at each other, both with wrinkled brows. 'Was it Jimmy
Connors?' Carole suggested without much conviction. 'Or would he have been
earlier than that?'

    'What's
the name of that boring one?' asked Jude.

    'Pete
Sampras?'

    'No,
the other boring one. Czech, never won Wimbledon.'

    'Ivan
something . . .'

    'Lendl!'

    'Yes,
that's right. Ivan Lendl!'

    'Shall
I write it down, Carole?' asked Jude.

    'Yes,
I'm sure it's right.'

    Whether
the gruesome discovery of Robin Cutter's remains had anything to do with it or
not, there was a very good turn-out for the SBHA quiz night in the function
room of the Crown and Anchor in Fethering. Reginald Flowers was, needless to
say, the quizmaster, smart in a blazer and tie, which looked vaguely naval (but
probably wasn't). Needless to say, he had his own neat little portable
amplifier and a microphone to talk into.

    Beside
him at his table sat Dora Pinchbeck, with a pile of forms to fill in and tick
off. Her crushed expression suggested that she hadn't been allowed to forget
her lapse over the booking of St Mary's Church Hall.

    Many
of the Smalting Beach regulars were there, but there were also quite a lot of
faces Carole didn't recognize. Twenty-two people including Reginald, dividing
up into four table teams of four and one of five. Carole and Jude were sitting
with a married couple; enthusiastic hutters they hadn't met before. The husband
plumed himself on being Captain of the Smalting Golf Club, and it was a mercy
when the start of the quiz stopped him talking about the fact. His wife spoke
little, only nodding in admiration at his every pronouncement.

    Deborah
Wrigley was there, somewhat to Carole's surprise. She would have thought a quiz
night was too common an entertainment for the self-styled
grande dame
of
the Shorelands Estate. But maybe curiosity about the Robin Cutter case had
persuaded Deborah to slum a little. She had her son Gavin and his unfortunate
wife Nell with her, so at least she was not without people to patronize. Carole
reckoned the young couple were probably back on the South Coast to rescue
Tristram and Hermione from their grandmother's rigid tutelage. 'Quality time'
with Deborah Wrigley somehow seemed unlikely also to be fun time.