Nemesis (33 page)

Retribution could happen later.

She pulled herself back to her feet and began to edge away, keeping a wary eye on him all the while. The strange smile was back on his face. He was enjoying this, she realised, like a cat would torment a mouse to death and then lose interest. It was a real effort to make no comment, to step around the rail of costumes and head towards the exit, listening all the while for the heavy footsteps that would mean he was following her.

She had reached the door when she heard him call after her.

“Lexi doesn’t know, does she?”

Alicia kept walking but did not turn her head, even though she knew he was now behind her.

“The poor girl has no idea she’s not your daughter - she’s Natalie’s.”

Just put one foot in front of the other.

“I can’t believe I never noticed it before. All it took was a cheap blonde wig and there was Sarah, back from the dead.”

Once in the corridor, it was a short step onto the stage and into the hall.

“I knew at once a lump like you could never have produced an ethereal creature like that.”

But when Alicia reached the door, she found she was quite unable to take that final step through it, and away from him. For a moment she stood there, willing herself on, but it was no good, she couldn’t do it. Instead, she drew strength from goodness knew where and spun round to face him.

She’d forgotten how quietly he moved. He was standing so close behind her she could have reached out and touched him.

“Stay away from my family,” she told him, as calmly as she could.

“Lexi is mature enough to make up her own decisions.”

“She’s a
child
.”

“Be careful not to antagonise me, Alicia. You’ll come off worse.”

“No,” she said. “If you threaten me, or my family, it shall be you who comes off worse.”

This time she was able to walk through the door but when she reached the comparative safety of the hall, her resolve disintegrated and she broke into a run.

52

When Alicia emerged from the school, both children were sat quietly in the car. Will was in the back, absorbed in his Nintendo game. Lexi was shivering in the front seat, still wearing her silver dress. Alicia had expected to find a truculent teenager, spoiling for a fight - but Lexi appeared close to tears, once again the child she still was.

Wary of rejection, Alicia fought the urge to sweep her daughter into a hug and to tell her everything would be all right.

“Are you cold, Lexi?” she asked instead. “Would you like to borrow my jacket?”

Lexi kept her eyes cast down and shook her head. Alicia realised that instead of the panda-like rings of make-up she usually wore, her eyelids had been painted in something subtle and silver to match the dress. She resembled a creature from a fairy tale, liable to vanish in the cold light of day.

Alicia started the car and Classic FM came blaring out of the speakers. Unusually neither child commented. It was only as she drove through the huge gates of Hurst Castle that
Will
finally spoke.

“Are we going to visit Granny?”

“Yes.” Where else could they go?

“Will we be having dinner there?”

“Yes, darling.”
They would probably have to sleep at the castle too, if the police hadn’t finished searching the house. Once she’d got the children settled, she’d return home and find out what was happening.

Lexi predictably said nothing, although Alicia noticed two streaks of silver glitter smudged across her cheeks. She’d been crying. Again, Alicia had to fight the urge to take her in her arms and tell her that whatever she’d done, she still loved her. She was still her beautiful princess. She was still her daughter.

Why hadn’t
her own
mother felt this way? Clare always seemed so cold and distant, and while Henry had called her ‘his girl’, she had often thought he cared only for his books; spending hours closeted away in the library, with strict instructions never to be disturbed. So when she thought about it, Kenzie had been the one who effectively brought her up.

 
“Mum?” Will’s voice broke into her thoughts. “What are we waiting for?”

How long had she been sat here, parked outside the castle entrance, staring into space? No wonder the children were regarding her warily.

“Sorry,” she said. “I’m afraid I have a lot on my mind.”

In the seat beside her, Lexi cringed. Alicia would have patted her shoulder reassuringly, but her daughter was already out of the car and running up to the door. By the time Alicia joined her, she’d already banged on the door twice.

Will, trailing behind, finally looked up from his Nintendo, a frown wrinkling his forehead. “Where’s Kenzie?”

Where indeed? Hopefully not making love to Clare in one of the castle’s sixteen bedrooms.

“Perhaps he didn’t hear us,” she said. “We’ll go through the breakfast room. That door is always unlocked at this time of day.”

Hardly were the words out of her mouth before Will had sprinted off across the terrace and through the rose garden. By the time Alicia managed to catch up with him, he was halfway across the breakfast room.

She made a grab for his jacket. “Now, Will, please don’t rush into the library unannounced. You know how Granny hates to be disturbed. Why not go downstairs into the kitchen? I’m sure Cook will be able to rustle up some sandwiches to keep you going until dinner.”

“What about me?” Lexi said in a small voice, as Will ran off into the great hall. “I can’t spend all evening in this stupid costume.”

“Why not go to your room and change? I’m sure there must be some clothes left behind after your last visit.”

Lexi hesitated. “I didn’t sleep with him, Mum.”

Alicia felt a huge rush of relief but didn’t dare say anything.

“He kept asking me to wear that blonde wig. It was kind of weird.”

“It does sound a bit odd,” Alicia agreed.

“I don’t think I want to go to Drama Club any more.”

And with that, Lexi went up the grand staircase to the gallery above, leaving Alicia standing outside the library door, feeling as though she’d just survived a hurricane.

She knocked on the door. At least she now had one less thing to worry about. Once the children were settled, she’d return to the house and see what kind of a mess the police had left it in and how soon they could return. Tomorrow she’d see a solicitor about a divorce and arrange for the children to change schools.

Realising her mother had failed to
answer,
she knocked again, louder this time. When she received no reply, she threw open the door regardless. It was her castle after all.

Her first thought was that the library was empty. It was so still and quiet. Then she caught a glimpse of Clare at the other end, a picture of cool elegance in black trousers and sweater. She was sat at Henry’s old writing desk as she always did but, instead of working on the castle accounts, she was slumped over, apparently lost in a world of her own.

Alicia hesitated, unwilling to interrupt. Or was her mother asleep?

She lightly touched Clare’s shoulder and watched as her mother’s head lolled back, and then realised she could not be asleep, because Clare’s eyes were open wide and staring sightlessly into own. Alicia screamed.

In the centre of her mother’s forehead was a small neat hole.

53

“Does that mean I’m a suspect?” Natalie asked.

DCI Bloom shook his head. “How many sets of keys to the Lodge were there?”

“I have no idea. This set belonged to my father. After the accident he had no need of them, so my mother gave them to me.”

“It’s logical that he would have a key to the well; it is unfortunate we don’t know how many copies were in circulation.”

Geraint was convinced one of the Vyne
family
had been complicit in his cousin’s death; now DCI Bloom was suggesting the same thing. And her father had worked for them. Was that why Sir Henry had paid for his medical bills all these years - to ensure her family’s silence? It was too horrible to contemplate.

“I really can’t deal with
- ”
she broke off to wave her hand in the direction of the pond. “You understand? I’m fast getting to the point where I can’t take any more. Finding
Summer
, my father’s death - and now you’re suggesting he might have been behind Bryn’s murder, or at least the disposing of his body? I can’t do it. I’m sorry.”

“Of course,” he said smoothly. “I completely understand. Why don’t you go home, have something to eat and make sure you get some rest? We can continue this conversation tomorrow.”

Tomorrow
?
Natalie was close to tears. Hadn’t she said all there had been to say? But the DCI’s attention had been taken by Geraint, who was heading across the terrace towards them. Sitting on the wet ground had cleaned some of the dirt from his clothes, but the rest of him was filthy, much like
herself
.

“Your knight in shining armour,” the DCI said dourly.

“He told me everything, you know.”

The DCI raised an eyebrow.
“Everything?”

“I know who he is and that he didn’t kill Sarah.”

His expression didn’t change. “You’re sure of that?”

“Yes,” she said. “I am.”

Geraint was another who’d appeared to have reached his very limit. “Can we leave now?” he asked DCI Bloom, perfectly politely but with a definite edge to his voice.

“Of course you may,” said the DCI. “Thank you once again for all your help.”

If the DCI was being sarcastic, Natalie decided she no longer cared.

Once the DCI had left the summer house and was safely out of earshot, Geraint turned to her and said, “Do you still want to meet up with your friend Alicia?”

Natalie remembered the way her key had slotted so easily into the padlock to the well. “I’ll give her a call later,” she said. Once she’d got her head around everything that had happened. “That might be best.”

“I’ll give you a lift home.”

“Thank you,” she said. “I appreciate it.”

For the first time, he laughed. “You
see,
cariad
? You
can
be nice.”

They walked back along the woodland path, to where Geraint’s truck was parked outside the Lodge. Natalie had not paid it much attention earlier. She knew it was painted green and had black letters on each side, advertising his landscaping business, but she’d never bothered to read it. This time, while she waited for Geraint to fish his keys out from his pocket, she did. It said:

Llewellyn Brothers

Landscaping

The Old Mill

Buckley

Buckley? It was less than ten miles away. A tiny, picture-postcard village in the centre of the forest, with squat Tudor houses crowding a cobblestoned street.

“You only live down the road,” she said.

“Did I imply any different?”

“There was a huge police search - and all the time you were
here
?”

“Not all the time,” he said. “But you’re right. It’s funny how people never spot something right underneath their nose. My uncle gave up the funfair after Bryn disappeared. His heart was no longer in it. I returned a few years ago. I’d always loved this part of the country. I went to work for a landscape gardener and when he retired I took over his business. I now employ twenty staff, not only gardeners, and we’re doing brilliantly - otherwise I could never have bid to renovate the castle gardens at such a loss.”

“You called it Llewellyn Brothers?”

“It’s in memory of the old funfair - my
da
and my uncle, and of course Bryn.”

The drive to the quayside took only a few minutes. Geraint brought the truck to a rumbling halt directly opposite the entrance to her apartment block, half up on the pavement, incurring a wrathful glance from a passing pedestrian.

Natalie felt awkward. She’d spent fifteen years wondering if he’d murdered her sister, and up until two days ago he’d been a stranger. Now they had spent so much time together, somehow the boundaries of friendship had become blurred.

“Is everything OK?” he asked, when she didn’t get out.

But apparently he couldn’t wait to get rid of her.

“Thank you for the lift,” she muttered, fully intending to cut and run. But her speedy getaway was foiled by the seatbelt. Even jabbing hard at the release button had no effect.

“Bloody thing!”
The combination of shock and sheer tiredness had left her at breaking point.

“Here, let me,” he said gently, leaning towards her. “It can be tricky. I don’t carry passengers very often, sometimes it sticks.”

Suddenly he was very close. She pressed herself back into the seat, hoping to avoid body contact in case she gave herself away. She remembered how he’d held her when they’d been in the tunnel. How he’d protected her from the flying glass. How every time she’d been suspicious of his motives, he’d proved her wrong by his kindness.

She knew how she felt about him, but how did he feel about her?

There was a click and the seatbelt slithered across her body.

“There you are,” he said, sitting back and smiling broadly. It seemed any sexual tension was entirely on her side. “You heard the detective. Don’t go getting into any trouble!”

She scowled. “I’m sure I don’t know what kind of trouble he thinks I can get into in my own home!”