The Attic Room: A psychological thriller (13 page)

She waved goodbye as Paul drove off, then turned back
inside, a picture of the farmhouse, the B&B sign waving in the wind,
sliding into her head. She could be proud of what Claire and Grandma Lily and
Grandpa Bill had achieved, and she would make damn well sure that her own
daughter could look back one day and be proud of her too.

Claire’s Story – Bedford

‘What the fuck are you doing here, Claire?’

The voice came from behind and Claire swung round on her
bench by the river, dismay obliterating her brief moment of peace. Robert was
standing there, hands stuffed in his pockets, glaring.

Claire swallowed panic. Dear Lord, coming here had been a
huge mistake. She’d found herself with an unexpected day to fill, as the London
friend she was visiting this week had been obliged to go into work to deal with
a staffing emergency instead of hitting Oxford Street with Claire. A shopping
trip alone, especially when you were only window-shopping, had limited appeal,
and quite spontaneously Claire hopped on a train to Bedford. She walked through
town and along by the river to see her old home. How odd it felt, wandering
along the pleasant river pathway, looking at the expensive houses on the other
side of the road. For a long moment she stood staring at her old home,
resentment flooding through her. According to the phone book Robert still lived
there, so he must be doing well for himself, even after giving her all that
money. It was so bittersweet – she would never regret her marriage, because of
Nina, but the thought that he was financially so much better off than she was
made her blood boil. She sat down on the bench to recover, not thinking for a
minute that Robert might be at home at two o’clock on a Thursday to notice her,
but here he was. And what in the world was she supposed to say now?

She stared at him, eyebrows raised and a carefully polite
expression on her face. It wasn’t easy, but she managed to sound calm. ‘I’m not
here to see you, don’t worry. I’m visiting Carol this week, and I thought I’d
have a look round Bedford again while I have the chance. I’ll be gone before
you know it.’

He snorted, then to her dismay he lowered himself into the
far corner of her bench. ‘Come to see the house you could have lived in, huh?
Bad decision, Claire. As usual.’

He was as unbearable as ever. Thank God she hadn’t tried to
re-establish contact between him and Nina. Claire stood up. ‘It was. And I’m
not staying here for you to hurl insults at me.’

He accompanied her across the grass towards the pavement and
the quickest way back to town, and Claire’s stomach churned in spite of her
brave words. But there were people about; she needn’t feel threatened. She
would walk away from him and go for a coffee before catching her train back to
London.

‘How’s Nina?’ His voice was neutral, and she replied in the
same tone.

‘She’s fine. At Brownie camp in Dunbar this week.’

‘Good.’ They reached the road and Claire was turning away
when a thought struck her.

‘I left a lot of stuff here, Robert. I suppose you still
have it?’

He snorted. ‘That junk. It’s all in a couple of boxes in the
attic. If you want it, come in and get it.’

Claire thought quickly, unwilling to prolong the meeting.
She’d left things like shoes and clothes that didn’t matter now, but there were
some ornaments and trinkets as well. Would it be stupid of her to go inside
with him? She glanced at the front room windows. One was wide open, and people
would hear her if she screamed.

‘I will, thank you,’ she said, managing to sound calm. ‘You
can bring them down to the study, please.’

Rather to her surprise he said nothing, and she followed him
inside and waited while he ran upstairs. The study hadn’t changed since the day
and hour she left this place; how very depressing it was. His Dad’s old desk
and bookshelves. And the secretaire Emily had given her when she downsized to
Biddenham. Claire gazed round in distaste. This house had never felt like home
and her ties with Bedford had been broken long ago. Thank God.

Robert returned with two large boxes which he dumped on the
floor, forcing her to crouch down, and Claire was glad she was wearing
trousers. Ignoring the way he was standing there watching her, arms folded, she
rummaged through the non-clothes box and found a fair-sized collection of
memorabilia of her marriage. The blue vases she’d found in Portobello Road
Market, goodness, she’d forgotten about them. And she’d take the Capo di Monte
rose, it matched Lily’s – and Nina would love the costume jewellery. Beads and
bangles were important nowadays; at ten, Nina was discovering the world of
fashion.

‘You can throw out the clothes, but I’ll take the rest with
me, except the blue vases,’ she said at last. ‘They’re too big. I’m going on to
the theatre tonight.’

Quickly, she packed her possessions into the fold-up
shopping bag she kept in her handbag. ‘I’ll come back sometime for the vases,
Robert, don’t throw them away. And the secretaire’s mine too, strictly
speaking. I’ll let you know. How is Emily – and Jane and Paul?’ She stared at
the secretaire. It was a pity she’d lost contact with Emily. But contact with
Emily might have led to contact with Robert, and Claire hadn’t wanted that back
then and neither had he. Ah well. No point stirring things up now.

He followed her to the front door. ‘They’re all fine. Send
for the rest if you want it. Don’t bother coming back, Claire.’

Claire shot him one more look as he stood at the door, arms
still crossed in front of him, staring after her. She strode off into the
afternoon, hands shaking, forcing herself not to turn round. What a fool she’d
been, coming here, but at least she’d got some things back. And she had stood
up to Robert – that alone was enough to make her feel stronger. Almost. A cup
of coffee settled her nerves, and she sat in the café looking through her
long-lost treasures. Maybe she would go back in person for the vases someday,
just to spite Robert.

Smiling at the thought, Claire checked her watch. It was
time to start back to the station.

Goodbye, Bedford, she thought as her train sped south. I
wonder if I’ll ever see you again.

Monday 24th July

The second weirdo phone call came the following morning.

Nina was stepping out of the shower when the old-fashioned
ring tone trilled upstairs from the study. Cursing, she pulled one of John
Moore’s scrubby bath towels round her and ran, almost tripping down the stairs
in her rush to get to the phone. It would be a wonder if she made it and a
double wonder if Naomi didn’t waken with all this crashing about, but there was
something very insistent about the brr-brr sounds emanating from John Moore’s
shiny blue eighties telephone. It was impossible to ignore.

‘Hello?’ She perched on the edge of the desk, thankful for
the net curtains at the window. Clad in an ancient orange bath towel with her
hair pinned roughly on top of her head, she wasn’t quite ready to face the
world.

There was an odd little snigger at the other end, and a
sick, churning feeling wormed through Nina’s gut. For a second she considered
hanging up but remembered in time that the phone was bugged now and the police
would be listening in. She wasn’t alone here, she wasn’t alone. All she had to
do was keep him on the line.

The same sing-song, high-pitched voice muttered into her
ear.

‘Nina, Nina. You pay for my pain or your daughter will
suffer. Get your money organised. You’ll hear from me again.’

The line went dead, and Nina slammed the receiver down
before crouching on the floor, panting. She had never felt so outraged, so
helpless. This disgusting person had threatened Naomi. Dear God, what should
she do?

Get the first plane north. Home, home. The thought ran over
and over in her head as she ran to make sure the front door was locked, then
rushed round checking the ground floor windows and the back door were secure
too. There was nothing for her here in Bedford. The business stuff could be
finished from Scotland; she could easily keep in touch with Paul by email and
phone, and Emily… yes, there was Emily. But even finding an absolute jewel of
an aunt had no significance in comparison to Naomi’s safety. This caller – was
it George Wright? – had made a definite threat now.

Loneliness crept through Nina as she realised there was no
one she could call for moral support. Cruel to phone Beth, who would be in the
middle of preparing heaven knows how many different breakfasts. Sam was miles
away and couldn’t help with this anyway. She would have to let Paul know that
the blackmailer and anonymous caller, who might well be his own father, had
struck again, but – dear God, would Paul really want to know? He would only be
hurt and ashamed. Hot tears stung Nina’s eyes and she rubbed her face
impatiently. This was no time to go soft. Phone the police, woman, see what
they have to say.

David Mallony was terse on the phone. ‘It’s as if he knew
the phone was bugged. The call was from a landline but that’s all we know.
Nina, I think you ought to go to a hotel. You and Naomi shouldn’t be alone in
that house after such a direct threat.’

Miserably, Nina agreed. All she wanted was to sit on the bench
outside the farmhouse and watch the waves shiver up the beach below, but she
needed at least another day here. She had to talk properly to the police, and
she wanted to see Paul again and ask him more about their families in the days
when she and Claire lived here. He might know something that would explain why
Claire had spread the myth about her husband’s death. And there must be
something – a huge, enormous something – that they didn’t know yet, because
Claire wouldn’t have told that lie lightly.

Nina stood in the study, tapping her fingers on the desktop.
What on earth was she supposed to do with Naomi while she was talking to David
Mallony and Paul? Her daughter would be one large question mark if she realised
there was more going on than she knew about.

Sam’s parents slid into Nina’s head as she trailed back
upstairs to dress. Maybe she should take Cassie up on that offer to babysit.
With Naomi at the Harrison’s, she’d have time to sort things out with David,
talk to Paul, and get packed. Afterwards she and Naomi could find a hotel near
Emily so they could both visit before flying north again.

Naomi was awake, and Nina explained the babysitting idea. It
was a good job the Harrisons had a dog, she thought, amused when this was the
first thing Naomi thought of.

‘You get dressed, and I’ll phone and ask,’ said Nina,
heading for the stairs.

Heavens, all this and she hadn’t even had a coffee yet. And
actually she should call Paul first, while Naomi was safely under the shower.

His voice on the phone was deeper than in real life, and he
sounded delighted to hear from her. ‘Nina! I’ve been remembering some of the
things we got up to as kids, and I’ve found a couple more old snaps, too – we
must get together and – Nina?’

Impossible to keep her own voice steady while she told him
about the second call. She could feel his concern through the phone.

‘Oh God, you must wish you’d never come anywhere near here.
I think it’s a great idea to find someone to take care of Naomi. Or – tell you
what, I can come and stay in the house with you tonight, save you going to a
hotel. I can easily stop work early today.’

‘Oh – I couldn’t ask you to do that, Paul. Thanks anyway. If
the Harrisons can help we’ll be fine.’

‘Nina, it’s not a problem. Think of everything we went through
as kids. Our fathers weren’t into helping family and my mother wasn’t much
better. Now we have the chance to do better. And I’d love to have another look
at those photos.’

He was right, thought Nina. If Beth or Tim had made the
offer she knew she wouldn’t have hesitated. And what had Emily said – little
Nina used to think Paul was wonderful when they were small? It would be good to
have the chance to get to know him better.

‘Okay – thanks. Could you maybe come by in the afternoon? We
could talk about everything then, and take it from there.’

Paul agreed to come at four, and Nina rang off, glad about
her decision. It made a real difference to have someone there in the
background, a family member, too, to lend a hand.

She booted up the laptop and went into the telephone
directory to find the Harrisons’ number. For a second she hesitated – what
should she tell Cassie? Simply that she had a lot of dry and dusty business
stuff going on and Naomi was bored out of her skull seemed the best way. Which,
when you thought about it, was the exact truth – from Naomi’s point of view at
least.

‘Nina, of course! It must be awkward for you. Why don’t you
let her stay here overnight? That would give you more time.’

Nina heaved a sigh of relief. A sleepover with a dog wouldn’t
be a hard sell, and then her mind would be at rest about her girl. ‘Thanks,
Cassie, I’ll bring Naomi later this morning if that’s okay. I’ll have to talk
to her about spending the night but I’m sure she’ll agree. It’s a load off my
mind to have someone take care of her.’

It was shortly after eleven when Nina pulled up outside the
Harrison’s house. The hired car was a larger vehicle than she was used to
driving, and it took her three goes to get into the tight space at the side of
the road.

She made a face at Naomi. ‘How to look seriously un-cool in
one easy lesson,’ she said, and Naomi giggled.

‘Chill, Mom. I think you’re real cool,’ she said, with a
phoney American accent.

Nina looked at her girl, grinning at her from the passenger
seat, her hair scraped into a high pony tail. How very much she loved Naomi. If
anything happened to her little girl because of all this John Moore stuff… it
would be unbearable. Impossible to live with herself if even a hair on Naomi’s
head was harmed. Damn the anonymous caller to hell.

Cassie and Glen came out to greet them.

‘Can I really stay the night?’ said Naomi, as Cassie hugged
her. ‘And where’s Kira?’

‘Of course you can. Your room’s all ready, and Kira’s
waiting for you in the kitchen,’ said Cassie. ‘We’ll take her for a walk later
on, but first Glen could do with another pair of hands to finish the fence,
couldn’t you, love?’

Nina carried Naomi’s bag inside, her heart warming. Cassie
and Glen were obviously delighted with their young visitor, and Naomi, who knew
nothing about the second threatening call, was equally enthusiastic. Nina
grinned as she watched her daughter struggle into a pair of Glen-sized
overalls. It was plain Naomi could hardly wait to get her hands on a paint
brush.

Cassie walked back to the car with her. ‘Nina, are you quite
sure you don’t want to stay here tonight too? There’s plenty of space. I don’t
like to think of you rattling around in your father’s house all by yourself.’

Nina was touched – there were good people in the world. She
should remember that in the midst of all this. ‘Don’t worry, Cassie. My cousin’s
coming and he’ll probably stay over. There’s a lot I have to go through with
him before Naomi and I head north. I’ll phone this evening and let you know
what’s going on. And thank you more than I can say for taking Naomi like this.
It makes all the difference.’

Cassie gave her a brief hug. ‘I’ll leave you to phone Sam,
will I, and let him know what’s happening.’

Nina smiled as she drove off. Cassie was doing a bit of
match-making there – and what did she think about that?

David Mallony ushered her into his office and was approving
when he heard about Naomi’s new home.

‘Good. We don’t know what the blackmailer’s planning,’ he
said. ‘If he phones again, try to keep the line open for as long as you can.
Talk to him. That’d give us more time to pinpoint the call.’

‘Do you think he knows the police are involved?’

‘Oh yes, but he’ll think he can make you comply now without
telling us. I have a feeling it’ll be a letter next time, with a demand for
money, and I think it’ll come by post in the morning. He won’t want to risk
being seen near the house. So it would be better if you stay on until tomorrow
at least.’

Nina sat staring at the glass paperweight on David’s desk.
What he said sounded logical, and it was reassuring to know the blackmailer was
unlikely to appear on the doorstep. She turned back to David Mallony. Now for
the difficult question.

‘What have you found out about – John Moore?’

‘There was a large number of pornographic images involving
children on his computer. We’re investigating to see if that was as far as it
went. I can’t tell you any more at the moment, Nina.’

In a way Nina was relieved. Maybe it was easier if she didn’t
know the ins and outs of what her father had done. A thought struck her – why
on earth hadn’t he disposed of the laptop? He’d got rid of bags full of
shredded paper. What was on the shredded paper that wasn’t on the laptop?

‘Contact details for other paedophiles, I imagine.’ David
Mallony sounded depressed when she asked him. ‘Leave it to us, Nina; you don’t
need to know the details.’

Nina was glad to accept this. She told David Mallony about
meeting Emily Moore and Paul, and he listened, an interested expression on his
face.

‘Good for you. But you know, it’s not at all certain this
blackmailer is George Wright. He does have a record, but he’s been pretty quiet
for the last six or seven years. We’re keeping an open mind there.’

Back at the house, Nina started to organise her belongings
for a possible departure the next day, then went to look at the photos on the
table. Paul wanted to see them again; she would leave them here in the
meantime. The ‘people’ snaps were laid out in groups, with the ‘non-people’
ones in a pile at the side.

She picked up a photo of herself as a young child with
Claire and John Moore. It was so frustrating that she remembered so little. She
had a hazy memory of the house, more a sense of familiarity than an actual
memory. There was the horrible feeling that John Moore might have been abusive
in some way. But maybe she only felt that because she know about the
pornography on his computer… and because Claire must have had a powerful reason
for that enormous, long-term lie. Was this what Claire had been trying to say,
moments before she lost consciousness? Nina swallowed.

What had her mother known?

Nina’s mobile buzzed at half past three while she was
packing Naomi’s remaining things. And after she’d left this house – which might
even be today, if Paul couldn’t stop overnight with her – she would never stay
here again. And oh, the relief was incredible – she literally felt lighter.

Sam’s voice was upbeat. ‘Hi, Nina. I’m between meetings. How’s
things?’

‘Okay,’ said Nina cautiously. ‘I was about to phone you. I
guess you haven’t spoken to your parents today?’

‘No. Why?’

In as few words as possible, she told him what was going on.
Sam was horrified.

‘But Nina, of course you have to go to Mum’s! You don’t know
this weirdo isn’t going to come to the house. It’s much too risky!’

‘I won’t stay here unless Paul can stay with me,’ said Nina,
trying to sound reassuring. ‘And I’ll make sure all the doors and windows are
locked, don’t worry. David Mallony doesn’t think the blackmailer will come
here, anyway.’

Sam, however, was not to be reassured. ‘David can’t possibly
know that for sure. And for heaven’s sake, you don’t know Paul Wright, and his
being related to your father and George Wright is hardly a recommendation, is
it?’

Startled, Nina thought of Paul’s gentle brown eyes and the
way his hair fell over his forehead. Maybe she didn’t know him, but he was
family – he’d been part of her life all those years ago. They connected.

‘Sam, I’m related to John Moore and George Wright in the
same way as Paul is. Sometimes you just have to trust people. Two weeks ago I
didn’t know you existed either.’