Memory Scents (20 page)

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Authors: Gayle Eileen Curtis

BOOK: Memory Scents
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              “I’m sorry, Grace. My mouth runs ahead of my mind sometimes.”

              “It’s not you, Chrissie. I’m just very emotional. I want to hear about it, I really do. I may be able to help you solve the puzzle so please don’t hide it from me.”

              Chrissie reached across the table and squeezed Grace’s hand, unable to hold back her own tears.

 

 

*

 

 

              After Grace left, Chrissie was relieved to have some time on her own. She sat on the sofa and stared at the book she’d found on her garden table.

              “Bedtime Stories,” she said out loud to the room, as if it might come back with some answers. She flicked through the pictures. They were ironic really, depicting another world. A whimsical world where there was Good and Evil. A place where Good always triumphed over Evil, not like in reality.

              Just as she was pondering on these thoughts, the phone rang.

              “Hello, darling. It’s Mum.”

              “Hi Mum, are you alright? Is Dad alright?” Chrissie suddenly panicked, not used to hearing from her mother two days in a row.

              “Yes, everything’s fine. I wanted to talk to you about something. Have you got a minute?”

              “Yes, several. What’s wrong?”

              “Nothing’s wrong, there’s just something I need to tell you.”

              “Mother, you’re frightening me. What is it?”

              Sylvia relayed everything that had happened on that awful night at the holiday cottage when Chrissie was snatched. The line at Chrissie’s end went quiet for a very long time.

              “Chrissie, darling? Are you ok?”

              Chrissie slumped back on the sofa; nausea rising in her stomach.

              “Why didn’t you tell me?” Chrissie almost whispered.

              “I’m so sorry, Chrissie. You suffered some sort of amnesia afterwards. The doctor said it was because of the shock and for the time being was for the best. We just wanted you to have as normal a childhood as possible after that awful incident.”

              “Did he touch me? Did he…you know?”

              The line was quiet again.

              “Did he touch me?!” Chrissie shrieked down the phone.

              “Not as far as we know. We don’t know if it was a man, darling. It was dark and you didn’t have a description. You just said you thought it was a man and he smelt funny. Darling, we kept it from you because we love you.”

              “So, did the police think it was the person who killed all those children?” Chrissie snapped at her.

              “They couldn’t be sure. There was a huge police hunt but they couldn’t find anything. The point is, darling, you survived.”

              “I know that Mother, but you can’t just ring me with this monumental news and expect me to immediately focus on the bright side.”

              “But you mustn’t dwell on ‘what ifs’.”

              “You’ve obviously had plenty of time to get used to this information over the years, where as I haven’t. So please allow me to have some time to adjust to what you’ve just told me, instead of doing what you always do – stick a plaster on it and hope it’ll go away!”

              Chrissie slammed the phone down. Her mother had the good sense not to phone back, thinking it was best to leave her daughter to calm down.

              Chrissie felt so angry. But she didn’t quite know who with. She could see why her family had kept it from her, although it was typical of them. But then maybe all their protectiveness over the years had stemmed from this incident. She needed time for all this information to filter through her mind.

              The thought that as a child she might have been so close to such an evil monster made her feel physically sick. Her mother was right. She was immensely lucky to have got away.

              A thought dawned on her. The shed. The memory of the flashback flooded her mind. That was why it was all so familiar. Perhaps that’s where he had taken her. She shivered, thinking of poor little Karen, who probably took her place. She didn’t want to sit with those thoughts. It was all too much. She decided to get dressed and sort out the jumble of her mind by walking along the beach.

 

*

 

 

              “I went to see Chrissie today, you know, my friend in the village?”

              “Oh yeah.”

              “She’s still having some really strange things happening at the house and it’s now spread to the garden.”

              “Really.” Tim was dead pan and sarcastic. He didn’t even look up from the newspaper crossword he was doing.

              Grace continued to channel hop. She needed to choose her words carefully.

              “She found some children’s clothes and a book in the garden. She’s not sure whether to go to the police, what with everything that’s happened with Alice.”

              That got his attention. The paper lowered slightly.

              “It was really strange. For a few minutes after she showed me what she had found I thought they were Nadine’s things.”

              “What has that got to do with Alice and why would she go to the police?”

              “All this activity in the house; I suppose she thinks it’s got something to do with all those murders from years ago. She thinks one of the victims is trying to get a message to her about the killer.”

              Tim chuckled and continued with his crossword.

              “It would be amazing if it did though.” Grace pressed further.

              “If it did what?”

              “The messages from beyond the grave; if they led her to the killer.”

              “Grace, I don’t know what you’re waffling on about. The police won’t take any notice of your nutty friend, especially if she keeps going on about silly ghost stories.”

              He looked quite calm. Grace couldn’t tell if she’d rattled him or not. But then she supposed that was how he’d managed to become a serial killer.

              She had without realising it rattled him quite a bit. He hadn’t thought of the scenario that Chrissie might go to the police. He didn’t want them tracing the items to his house. It was drinking too much that had caused him to make that error. He had to keep a clear head, especially when there was a new police investigation going on.

              “Will they open up a full investigation like they did all those years ago?” Grace asked, trying to sound naive.

              “I should imagine they have done already.” Tim muttered almost under his breath.

              Grace settled on a repeat of an old drama programme, as a slightly uncomfortable silence landed in the room.

              “Better get the sheds cleared out.” Grace said, keeping her eyes on the television screen.

              The paper lowered again.

              “What’s that got to do with anything?” Tim’s voice became dark and cold.

              “Oh, nothing. I was just thinking the other day we ought to have a clear out before the winter sets in. Tidy the garden up a bit.”

              Grace knew she needed to go steady. She could see it had hit a nerve with him and she didn’t want to push him too far.

 

*

 

              “I know you’re very angry with us at the moment, darling. But I’ve just called to tell you we did what we thought would be best for you at the time. We decided to tell you because we didn’t want you finding out through someone else, especially as you were having some therapy.

              Daddy and I were so thankful every day that you were spared, and we still are. We didn’t want it to be a black cloud over our lives. So we tried to carry on as normal. It made us appreciate all three of you so much more, even though we didn’t think that was possible. It wasn’t an easy decision to make, not telling you. And I know you think we’ve suffocated you over the years, but now you know why. Anyway…that’s all I wanted to say on the matter. We love you very much and we hope you can see our reasons for keeping it from you….”

              Chrissie turned off the answer machine. Despite the situation, she chuckled to herself. Her mother had sounded so matter of fact and defensive. She did that when she was wounded.

              Chrissie, having calmed somewhat, called her mother back to put her mind at rest. The fresh air from the sea had done her the world of good.

              They had a much better conversation about it all even though Chrissie still felt extremely sore and upset. It was as if someone had allowed her into a room of memories where the door had been locked for so many years.

              Her mother was right. It served no purpose to dwell on “what ifs”. She hadn’t been aware of it for so many years and had got along in her life quite happily. Something her mother thought she wouldn’t have done had she remembered the awful incident.

              But she couldn’t whole heartedly throw herself into this carefree attitude. She needed some time. Every moment she thought about what could have happened, her stomach turned over. She felt like she’d been rescued from falling off a cliff, but she was still standing on the edge. Each time she looked over her shoulder she was staring down a sheer drop.

              Chrissie decided to call Sarah before she settled down for the night. She wanted to let her know she’d been right about the childhood memory. She still couldn’t believe it. A whole part of her life seemed to have been erased; like a piece of puzzle that didn’t belong in the whole picture.

              The anger Chrissie felt earlier began to bubble up inside her. It made her realise who she was angry with. The person who’d tried to snatch her. How dare they? How dare they put her and her parents through that awful trauma? Her lovely, kind parents who’d strived to give her and her siblings a magical childhood. Something that, in Chrissie’s opinion, should be set in stone, not something you had if you were lucky. And how dare they try to cut her life short; what right had they to make that decision.

              These feelings gave her the determination to work out the messages she was being given and the will to work out who it was who committed these abhorrent crimes.

 

 

*

 

 

              Grace knocked at her sister’s door but there was no answer. She’d brought her some shopping, knowing she wouldn’t have been out of the house. She put the bags down on the door step and let herself in. All was silent apart from the buzz of the refrigerator.

              She went through the rooms calling her, but there was no answer. She remembered the last time she’d freaked out and scolded herself for even thinking it. Eve was just upstairs taking a nap.

              She switched on the kettle to make a hot drink for them both and began to unpack the shopping, whilst reassuring herself everything was fine. But the atmosphere felt heavier than usual and she couldn’t shake off the feeling of foreboding. She scolded herself again and finished putting the shopping away.

              As Grace put the last of the things in the fridge and cleared the kitchen table of bags, she noticed an envelope with her name on it.

              At first she thought Eve had gone for a walk and left her a note. But then the logical side of her brain told her that Eve would have scribbled on a piece of paper, rather than go to the trouble of putting it in an envelope.

              A sick feeling began to rise from the pit of her stomach as she opened the carefully folded letter.

 

 

 

Dear Grace,

 

I’m so sorry...

 

              Grace didn’t get any further. She scrambled up the stairs so fast she fell up them. She recovered herself immediately and within seconds she was barging through Alice’s bedroom door.

              A loud scream made her jump. She turned around to see who it was and then realised it had come from her mouth.

              Eve was laid on Alice’s bed, a deathly shade of white. For what felt like a few seconds Grace was rooted to the spot.

              Brain in gear, she checked for a pulse, but she was shaking so much, she wasn’t sure if she could feel one or not. She ran downstairs to call for an ambulance. She tried to calm her breathing so she could relay the address to the operator on the end of the phone.

              “Grace? Whatever’s happened? I heard a terrible scream.”

              Grace turned in the hallway to find Eve’s next door neighbour, Dennis. He was a close friend of the family and a retired Detective Inspector. He’d been at the forefront of all the murder investigations and had been a huge support to their entire family during their time of need.

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