Twisted

Chapter 26

Lena had carried the first suitcase down to the Mini and returned to collect the second one when she felt herself drawn to Amy’s bedroom. Stepping over discarded clothes and shoes, she peered into the wardrobe. The acrid smell of stale sweat and cheap cloying perfume still lingered and was even more nauseating than the previous time she had been there. Now she wanted to touch the discarded clothes, hold them to her face and try to understand what had made her beautiful daughter turn into a slut in this dirty soiled room.

Lena had read horrible things in the journal she’d given to Detective Reid, but she didn’t believe that they could have anything to do with the disgusting things Jackson had told her.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, she faced the wall and the poster that was now rolled up on the floor beneath the peephole. She got up and stood closer until her face was pressed to the wall and she could see clearly into the bedroom used by Marcus and his whores. She knew full well he was and always had been promiscuous. Although she never told him she knew, she had forgiven his unfaithfulness because of her own frigidity. It was not until she had been diagnosed with bipolar disorder, and gone into extensive therapy with Marjory Jordan, that she realized why she had behaved in the way she had. By that time it was too late and he had asked for the separation.

She shook herself. There was no time for her to think about all of that now. Going to collect the second suitcase and walking into the hall, she didn’t know who was more shocked, the young man with the ponytail or herself.

‘Hey, sorry if I scared you but I didn’t think anyone was here. I’m Grant, friend of Simon’s, and he asked me to collect a few things, but if it’s not convenient I can come back.’

She introduced herself and he smiled. ‘I was just leaving and taking Marcus’s suitcase back to the house for him,’ she said.

‘You want me to carry it down for you?’

‘Yes thank you, the first one was quite heavy.’

He picked up the suitcase.

‘How is Simon?’ she asked pleasantly as they headed out onto the landing and started down the stairs.

‘Well he’s not that well actually, got some virus, and he’s in bed; he’s been sick since we returned to England, and he’s on antibiotics but they don’t seem to be helping, plus we’ve had trouble with his dog Wally – he’s a huge wolfhound cross and he just collapsed and the vet thinks he’s not going to last.’

They went out of the front door and she opened the passenger door for him to put the suitcase in the Mini. She noticed he wore a thick denim jacket and jeans and a white polo-neck sweater, and that he was very handsome and suntanned. The suitcase loaded, he put his hand out to shake hers.

‘Nice to meet you.’

‘Do you often come to the flat?’ she asked.

He shook his head. ‘This is my first time and Simon couldn’t make it so I offered. There’s some photographs he wants and a couple of paintings.’

‘Well, please give him my regards. I suppose you know about my daughter Amy?’

He looked embarrassed. ‘Simon sort of mentioned it, and I didn’t like to say anything. We both hope she’ll be found safe and well; it must be a great worry.’ He was obviously self-conscious, and couldn’t stop gazing into her eyes.

‘It is, but Marcus is moving back in to be with me.’

‘I am sorry if it’s not a good time for Simon to sell the flat, but he makes up his mind about things and I think he’s going to put the Henley property on the market as well.’

‘Really? Well it’s been nice talking to you, Graham.’ She stepped away from him.

‘Grant, my name is Grant.’

‘Oh I am sorry, well don’t let me detain you any longer.’

He walked back towards the house, and then stopped; turning around to see her getting into the Mini, he hurried towards her once more.

‘Sorry, do you mind waiting for one second? I’ve had to park up the road and it’s a ten-minute meter, and I can take this space and bring down stuff easier than having to cart it all the way down the road.’

She wound down the window and passed him the residents’ parking ticket, telling him he could scratch off the day and time and no need to feed a meter.

‘Oh fantastic, thank you.’

She started the engine, waiting as she saw him in the driving mirror running down the road and eventually stopping by a Porsche. He bleeped it open and got in as she started to reverse and pull out from the bay. He took quite a while going backwards and forwards over and over again, but he eventually stopped behind the Mini, waiting for her to drive away. She headed towards the end of Green Street and could see he was still attempting to park as she turned right towards Grosvenor Square. He appeared very young and was obviously a rather inexperienced driver. She wondered if he was a relative of Simon’s but doubted it as he did not have the aristocratic tone. She had no idea that her husband’s closest friend was a homosexual; to the contrary Simon Boatly had always appeared overtly heterosexual with a bevy of glamorous model girls hanging around him. She had never liked him or the hold he appeared to have over Marcus. She thought it was a class thing, and due to his wealth Boatly had been a constant threat to her relationship from the beginning. When they had first all met she had tried to be friendly, even had dinners alone with Simon, but she was always suspicious of his intentions. It gave her some satisfaction that his forcing Marcus to leave the flat, when anyone with any sense of friendship would have wanted to help, proved that she was right in disliking the selfish egotistical extrovert.

Lena drove the Mini home, parking it alongside the Lexus in the garage. She let herself out via the garden door and entered the house, catching Agnes smoking in the kitchen and reading the papers.

‘I’m so sorry, Mrs Fulford, it’s just been such a worrying time. I needed to calm my nerves.’

‘Put it out and use the room spray, and please, Agnes, if you must smoke do it in the garden, and bring in Mr Fulford’s suitcases from the garage.’

Agnes was in a state as she wafted her hands to get rid of the smoke.

‘Shall I put them in the guest bedroom?’

‘No, Agnes, the master bedroom. I’ll be in my office; you can unpack them and take whatever needs washing into the utility room.’

‘Yes, Mrs Fulford, I’ll do that straight away.’

‘Thank you,’ Lena said crisply, pausing at the kitchen door. ‘Take out something from the freezer for dinner before you leave.’

‘Yes, Mrs Fulford, and will Mr Fulford be joining you?’

Lena made no reply and Agnes tipped the cigarette butt from the ashtray into the pedal bin. She rinsed the ashtray under the tap and shoved it into the dishwasher. She was angry at being caught out and the way Lena had spoken to her, muttering to herself, ‘Yes, Mrs Fulford, no, Mrs Fulford, three fucking bags full, Mrs Fulford.’ She went into the utility area, where the big double-door freezer was housed, to get something for the Fulfords’ evening meal. Looking through the freezer shelves, she noticed that a carton didn’t have one of her usual labels on it, and suspecting it must have dropped off, rummaged around for it. She couldn’t find the label and assumed it must have got stuck to the bottom of something else she had already used. Although it looked like a bolognese sauce Agnes couldn’t be sure so she took it to the kitchen with some chicken breasts in white wine sauce and laid them on the draining board to defrost. She wrote a note for Mrs Fulford: ‘Not sure what this is or when made. Will check when defrosted.’

It took her two trips to bring the suitcases in from the garage as they were both quite heavy. Taking them upstairs into the master bedroom, she chucked them onto the bed and began to take out all the contents. Some items she threw onto the floor as they needed washing, such as shirts, pyjamas, socks and underpants; for the rest she had to go into the guest bedroom wardrobe to fetch more hangers. She hung a few jackets, folded numerous sweaters, and a couple of these she felt needed to have a cold-water wash. Amongst them was a dark maroon cashmere with frilled cuffs, but she didn’t really pay much attention as the pile for the laundry was mounting. With her arms full she went downstairs and back to the utility room and began to select items for the first wash.

The huge sink was used for hand-washing and she poured some detergent for woollens and ran the cold water before putting the sweaters in to soak. She held up the soft cashmere maroon sweater and checked the label to see if it was safe to hand-wash; only then did she think that perhaps it belonged to Lena and put it to one side as Mrs F liked her cashmere to be dry-cleaned. She suspected that she would not be able to leave at her usual time as the washing machines and dryers would still be working, so she stuffed what she had not started into the white plastic laundry container. There was no way she was going to stay any longer than necessary, but at the same time she was curious as to why Marcus was moving back in, and into the main bedroom at that, which must surely mean the divorce was on hold. It was something she had never imagined would happen and she couldn’t help wondering if the disappearance of Amy had drawn them back together – with two weeks gone it might mean that they were facing the possibility she might never return alive.