The Attic Room: A psychological thriller (8 page)

Naomi’s eyes were fixed on Nina’s. Nina reached out and
hugged the girl quickly. Thank God her daughter was old enough to understand
this much, at least. Pretending that everything was all right would have been
next to impossible.

‘Thirdly, the police are coming to have a look round here,
to see if there’s any evidence that might help them investigate the illegal
business. They’re going to tap the landline too, in case the blackmailer calls
again, so don’t you answer that phone, ever, no matter what. And fourthly you
are one mucky pup, skedaddle upstairs and change that disgusting pullover
before we go into town.’

Naomi giggled, then caught Nina’s arm. ‘Mum – it’s going to
be okay, isn’t it?’

Nina hugged her again. ‘As Inspector Mallony said, it’s
really nothing to do with us, so yes, it’ll be okay in the end. It’s a bit
messy at the moment, though, but you don’t have to worry about that. Okay?’

Naomi shot off upstairs, and Nina pulled out her mobile.
Under the circumstances it might be best if she disturbed Sam’s lunch hour to
tell him what was going on. He listened without interrupting, and his voice was
angry when he spoke.

‘What a bastard, threatening you like that. Are you okay?’

‘I’m fine now. It was horrible at the time. And apparently
John Moore is my father, Sam. I feel sick about that.’

‘I know. Some of the queries I put through came back too.
You have a couple of cousins as well, but no one that could upset the will so
nothing changes there. If you wanted to get in touch with them we could find
them for you. Nina, I was wondering if you and Naomi would like to go for a
picnic by the river – there’s some kind of water event on today. I think Naomi
might enjoy it, and it would get you out of the place when the police are
searching it. What time are they coming?’

‘About four. That sounds perfect; she’s a real water-rat.
Thanks, Sam.’

His voice was warm in her ear. ‘Great. I’ll bring the grub.’

Nina put the phone down and stood staring at it. Cousins? So
they did have family in England…

Claire’s story – Edinburgh

‘Squirrel, squirrel!’ cried Nina, running across the grass
in Princes Street Gardens, losing both her red Christmas mittens in the
process. Claire and Lily laughed.

‘She’s having a ball here, isn’t she?’ said Lily, as Claire
returned from retrieving Nina’s mitts.

Claire could only agree. Her gaze swung from the dark
heights of Edinburgh Castle towering above them, to the shoppers up on Princes
Street, a colourful mass of well-wrapped-up bargain hunters doing the January
sales. And Nina wasn’t the only one who was enjoying Edinburgh life. It wasn’t
until she came home to stay with her parents that Claire realised how much time
she’d spent in Bedford walking around on tip-toe, afraid to make her presence
felt in case Robert lashed out with another hurtful remark.

Marry in haste, repent at leisure was dead right, she
thought, watching Lily point out the people at the top of the Scott Monument to
distract Nina from chasing squirrels. It had taken the geographical separation
from Robert before she’d allowed herself to think too much about it. Living
with Mum and Dad was so restful in comparison. And in the few weeks since their
arrival Nina had become chattier, laughing more too, which made Claire angry.
Even a baby like Nina was sensitive to the atmosphere in a house, and after
what Paul said that awful afternoon in Bedford there was no way of knowing how
long Robert had been bullying the children – without her noticing a thing. She
hadn’t been much of a mother to her child, but she was going to change that
now.

‘I want to stay in Edinburgh, Mum,’ she said quietly, and
Lily squeezed her arm.

‘Of course you can stay. I’m sorry things haven’t worked out
for you and Robert, but you tried, and your Dad and I’ll help all we can. It’s
a good thing I’m not working – you can find a job and I’ll be there to take
care of Nina.’

Claire squeezed back. Her parents had always done the
old-fashioned thing. Mum was housewife and Dad was breadwinner. It was the
right arrangement for them.

She straightened her shoulders. The ‘holiday’ was over. She
would go to the job centre tomorrow; she couldn’t expect her parents to support
her and Nina indefinitely. Another problem was that the Morningside semi where
she had grown up only had two bedrooms, so as well as a job she would have to
find a flat. Life in Edinburgh would be a lot less luxurious than life in
Bedford, but then money couldn’t buy the important things anyway.

And oh, Lord, she’d have to get things organised with
Robert, child support and so on. All he knew was what she’d told him when she
called from King’s Cross before boarding the train for Edinburgh – that she
didn’t like his behaviour and wanted a ‘trial separation over Christmas’. Not
that she’d had any idea of returning, but it was as well to give him time to
get used to the idea. He phoned every few days, trying to persuade her back to
Bedford, but all she heard in his voice now was insincerity. He would be
missing someone to keep the place clean, of course. How on earth could she have
been so taken in by his good looks and charm? Unbelievable, how naive she’d
been. But that was over.

She called Robert that night and informed him curtly that
she wanted a divorce. It was easy to be brave when your abusive
soon-to-be-ex-husband was several hundred miles away, and Claire congratulated
herself on her decisive tone.

Robert, however, was equally firm. ‘I’m not discussing this
on the phone,’ he said, and she could hear the anger in his voice. ‘I’ll come
up to Edinburgh at the weekend. But I warn you, Claire, I’m not giving Nina up.
She’s my daughter too and I want her back here, with or without you.’

Claire gripped the phone, her fingers shaking. She would
tell Robert what she thought of him, right now, in case her new-found bravery
deserted her when he was standing in front of her.

‘Oh yes? You love her so much you bullied her and Paul and
frightened them both half to death, not to mention hurting them,’ she said,
distance allowing the sneer in her voice . ‘That’s abuse, you know. It’s
despicable. Paul told me all about what you did that last afternoon, oh, yes.
Not much love there, was there? If I went to the police with a story like that
they would stop you seeing Nina first thing and you know it.’

There was silence at the end of the phone. His breath had
caught when she’d spoken, so she’d taken the wind out of his sails anyway.
Apparently he did know that hitting small children was unacceptable.

‘We’ll talk at the weekend,’ he said at last, and hung up
before she could reply.

Claire thought carefully about how best to arrange her
meeting with Robert. No way was she inviting him to her parents’ home; she
would take him somewhere in town. It might actually be an idea to ask Lily to
come along for moral support – Robert would be more restrained if his
mother-in-law was there too. But then, it was hardly fair to drag Lily into her
mess of a marriage.

In the end she decided to meet him alone, in a coffee bar on
Hanover Street near Waverley Station. That would be better than parading up and
down outside with Robert making snide remarks and possibly even threats. She
and her friends used to go to ‘Saluti a Tutti’ on Saturday nights when they
were teenagers, and the proprietor, a fatherly Milanese, would chase them out
at midnight with a great deal of Scottish-Italian humour. Today, she was glad
to see him still manning the espresso machine. If Robert tried anything on, she’d
only have to shout and Guido would come running.

It wasn’t an easy conversation. Robert arrived at the coffee
bar while she was standing chatting to Guido, who melted away tactfully. Claire
gathered her courage and frowned at Robert, who greeted her with his most
charming smile, called her his ‘wee lassie’ for the first time since before she’d
been pregnant and would have hugged her, too, if she hadn’t sidestepped. He
ordered her favourite cappuccinos for them both and he was calm, witty,
articulate – in fact he turned his considerable powers of persuasion on full
strength, and Claire realised anew why she’d fallen for him in the first place.
This time, however, she knew it was an act, and when he paused to sip his
coffee she told him quite bluntly that her mind was made up.

‘We’ve grown apart, Rob,’ she said, determinedly holding his
gaze. ‘There’s no way we can start again, and I don’t want to, either. Nina and
I are staying here in Edinburgh and that’s that. And you know you’d never get
custody. If I reported what you’d done, Paul would be well able to tell the
police or social services what happened, and so would Nina. She talks away
nineteen to the dozen now. And we know why she didn’t talk as much in Bedford,
don’t we?’

How mean she was, blackmailing him like that. If every
father who had ever struck his children lost custody, there would be an awful
lot of fatherless kids in the country. A sad but true fact, even in these
enlightened days. And of course it was equally true for mothers, though she had
never lifted a hand to her child. But a lot of people did, and Robert was
probably going to tell her all about them right now.

He was staring at her, and she noticed with interest that
his face had gone white with a red splodge of colour on both cheeks. She had
touched a nerve there. Good.

‘All right, Claire,’ he said at last, his voice tight. ‘If
that’s the way you want to play it, then so be it.’

He pulled out his chequebook and started to write. ‘I’ll
give you this. It’s a one-off, and it’s a lot more than you’d get if you
reported me and went through the official channels, believe me. In return you
can get right out of my life. I don’t want to see you or hear from you again,
and the same goes for Nina. Got that?’

He slid the cheque across the table and she lifted it. Fifty
thousand pounds. Bloody hell, how unbelievable. Fifty thousand pounds. He was
selling her his daughter. Did he have that kind of money – and if he did, where
the hell had it come from? She swallowed, then managed to speak calmly.

‘Very well. I’ll tell her you had an accident and died, will
I, when she asks? And never fear, Mum and Dad don’t know the gory details. I’ll
put this in the bank on Monday, Rob, and if it bounces I’ll go straight to the
police.’

It was an empty threat, of course. For what would the police
say when she told them that her husband had hit her daughter – not marking her,
mind you, for Claire had checked the same evening and there wasn’t a hint of a
bruise on Nina – and then offered her fifty thousand pounds to get out of his
life? She had no proof that Robert had struck the children, just the word of a
six-year-old who was upset anyway because his mother was lying downstairs
pissed out of her mind.

Claire could see Robert was trying hard to control his
temper, and she stood up, smiling into his face. For once she had the upper
hand and it was a powerful, intoxicating feeling. A pay-back in a small way for
the hurt he had caused her.

‘Goodbye, Rob. Forever.’ Conscious of Guido grinning behind
the counter, Claire swept outside, leaving her cappuccino half-finished.

It was the kind of exit that belonged in a trashy film, she
thought, laughing out loud as soon as she rounded the corner. Well, that was
the end of her connection to the Moore family. Emily was the only one she’d
really liked, but Robert had never sought much contact to his aunt.

And poor little Paul… It was a pity she couldn’t help him,
but she had to look out for Nina first. Anyway, when Paul told his mother about
Rob’s behaviour she would do something about it. Even Jane must rate her child
higher than a bottle of gin.

It wasn’t until she was in bed that night, Nina asleep in
the too-small cot beside her, that Claire began to wonder if she’d done the
right thing. They hadn’t even discussed the divorce. And what reason did Robert
have to pay all that money in exchange for her silence – for that was what he’d
done. She still didn’t know where on earth his money came from.

A new thought slid into her head. He must be involved in
some kind of criminal activity. That was the only explanation; he was doing
something illegal, something that would put him in prison if it was found out.
And if the police or child welfare people got involved, whatever it was would
be discovered. So possibly she was doing wrong too, accepting the money. Had he
done something really wicked? Something that would shock her so much that she
would go to the police, if she knew what it was? But no. Not charming Robert
Moore. It would be embezzlement or fraud or something sordid like that.

Claire lay gazing across the dimness to Nina, whose plump,
rosy cheeks looked at least three times as healthy as they had in Bedford, and
came to a decision. Nina deserved a good life. Fifty thousand pounds would make
the difference between managing comfortably, and scrimping. She would take the
money and forget all about Robert Moore. So what if he made his money
embezzling other crooks – she knew nothing for sure. If she reported him she
would lose the fifty thousand that was going to buy them all a future.

So she would just hold her tongue. It was much the best way
for Nina.

Wednesday 19th - Thursday 20th July

The police arrived as they were leaving to go to the ‘Riverside’
event in the country park further down the river. David Mallony stood in the
hallway as five other officers clumped past and went straight through to the
study.

‘Nina, here’s the warrant to search this house. I’m not sure
how long we’ll need, but we’ll leave everything tidy for you.’

‘That’s fine,’ said Nina, aware that Naomi’s eyes were
growing rounder by the second at the sight of the police calmly taking
possession of the place. ‘Naomi and I each have a caseful of clothes in the
front bedroom upstairs, and you’ll see I’ve bagged most of John Moore’s clothes
and bedding. Help yourselves to whatever you need. Shall I give you a key to
lock up when you’re done?’

She glanced round. Sam had taken Naomi outside to the car.

‘You will include the boxes in the attic?’ she said. ‘I’d
hate to come across pornographic photos but I do want to look through them in
case there’s anything family-related up there. Oh, and the cleaning service
told me they removed a load of shredded paper before I arrived. Heaven knows
what was there and please, if you do find anything disgusting, take it right
away from here. The thought that I’m related to that man is – stomach-turning.’

‘Don’t worry. We’ll check everything,’ said David Mallony.
He gave her a brief salute and turned into the study.

‘What did he say? And why did
he
–’
Naomi was hunched in the passenger seat of Sam’s car, an aggrieved expression
on her face. ‘– not let me stay to hear for myself what the police said? I’m
not a baby!’ She glared at Sam.

Still shaken, Nina got in the back and for a moment had to
concentrate on remaining calm. She would never understand how Claire had
managed to keep such an awful secret all these years. Nina shuddered. John
Moore must have been blackmailing Claire in some way. It was the only
explanation; her mother would hardly have chosen to act like that. What a swine
the man had been. Claire had probably – no, she had definitely acted against
the law in saying nothing. Imagine if she was still alive – she could have
ended up facing charges. Child pornography was a bit different to stealing
petty cash or cooking the books.

And – dear God in heaven – had any child suffered abuse
because Claire hadn’t reported John Moore? That was something they would know
by the end of the investigation and the answer was going to be ‘yes’. And
Claire must have known that. Bile rose in Nina’s throat and she swallowed,
feeling it burn all the way to her stomach. How terrible… Claire’s silence had
condemned who knows how many kids to vile abuse. And her mother had
lived
with this knowledge…

Naomi turned from the front seat and pouted at her. ‘Mum! I
wanted to - ’

‘They’re looking for evidence of the illegal business,
Naomi.’ Nina gave herself a mental shake. She couldn’t think about the
ramifications of Claire’s silence now, with Naomi upset and waiting for an
answer. The truth and nothing but the truth, but not quite the whole truth,
that was what she needed here. ‘And of course anything that would lead them to
the blackmailer. We don’t know who that could be. And Sam was right to take you
to the car. Things like this aren’t suitable for children to hear about.’

Naomi scowled at Sam, then turned back to Nina. ‘I bet I can
understand. What kind of illegal business is it?’

Nina struggled for words. Not the whole truth indeed. ‘I don’t
know exactly, Naomi, and I don’t really want to know either. I’m afraid John
Moore wasn’t a very nice person.’

Naomi was silent, and Nina slumped in her seat. How much did
Naomi know about paedophilia? ‘Stranger danger’ had been a theme in their lives,
of course, but Nina had never seriously considered they would come into contact
with a paedophile. No one did. But the day when she would have to explain more
about John Moore’s ‘illegal activities’ was coming, nothing was more sure than
that. She should start getting her ideas together about how best to phrase
things so that a ten-year-old would understand without losing her faith in the
entire human race. Not an easy task.

The Riverside Water Party, set up by a trio of small lakes
in the country park, was lively and crowded, with competitions for children and
displays of aquatic sports and other activities. Naomi was fascinated by the
water rescue dogs, several of which were enormous Newfoundlanders, and for a
long time refused to be tempted away from their stand by the lakeside. Nina and
Sam left her to it and settled down under a tree a short distance away where
they could keep an eye on her.

‘I hope I didn’t stand too hard on the poor kid’s toes back
there,’ said Sam, passing Nina a smoked salmon sandwich. ‘She was none too
chuffed when I insisted on leaving you alone to talk to the police.’

‘I’m glad you did,’ said Nina fervently. ‘I have no idea how
best to explain all this to her. Don’t worry, Sam, she’ll come round. She hasn’t
got over her Grandma’s death yet, and losing part of her trekking holiday isn’t
helping.’

To her dismay, however, Nina saw that her daughter was still
very miffed with poor Sam. Naomi came back for something to eat with a sullen
expression on her face.

‘Mum, can I go and buy an ice cream? I don’t like fish,’ she
said, turning her nose up at Sam’s cool box. ‘Or chocolate yoghurt.’

Nina pulled out her purse, refraining from pointing out that
both appeared regularly on the table at home and Naomi had yet to voice an
objection. If only peace of mind was as easily purchased as ice cream. She
would part with any amount of John Moore’s fortune if she could buy something
to help Naomi through what had turned into the worst summer of both their
lives.

She watched unhappily as the girl trailed over to the ice
cream van and back, demonstratively giving Sam a wide berth. As soon as she’d
handed over the change she was off again back to the dogs.

‘Don’t worry,’ said Sam, as they packed up the picnic. ‘I
know it’s not personal.’

He was right, thought Nina. But she could have done without
yet another complication. Sam was the closest thing she had to a friend down
here, and now Naomi had taken a scunner to him, as Grandma Lily would have
said.

The party continued with music and dancing, and it was after
ten when Sam pulled up outside John Moore’s house, Naomi half-drowsing in the
back. Nina undid her seat belt. Had the police found anything? Heavens, she had
butterflies in her tummy about it – they might have come across something that
would change the whole situation. Oh, if only…

She turned to Sam. ‘Want to come in and see what the police
have been up to?’

‘You bet,’ he said, pulling the key from the ignition.

Naomi bounded up in the back seat. ‘The police! Are they
still here?’

The police were gone and the house was tidy, though Nina saw
signs everywhere that things had been disturbed, moved, rummaged through. The
smell of old books in the study was almost choking, and Nina wrinkled her nose.
They must have flicked through John Moore’s entire collection. It was
unnerving, even though this wasn’t her home. Her house, but not her home. And
what had all those policemen found in her house?

‘Mum! They’ve left some boxes from the attic in the living
room!’ said Naomi, who was wide awake again, running from room to room.

Nina went to look. There was a note from David Mallony on
the uppermost of three cardboard boxes on the coffee table.

‘All the ‘good’ photos are here. We’re taking two further
boxes to the station for investigation. Those still in the attic contain
clothes and china.’

Nina breathed in deeply. It sounded as if the ‘further boxes’
contained pornography. Thank Christ she hadn’t left Naomi to explore the attic
by herself the other day.

Sam patted her shoulder. ‘I’ll make coffee, shall I?’ he
said. ‘You’ll want to have a look at these.’

Nina opened the smallest box. It was almost full; there were
dozens of small, black and white photos, the kind that would be pre-1960.

‘Bo – ring!’ said Naomi theatrically.

‘‘Fraid so,’ said Nina, glad that the girl wasn’t itching to
look through the photos. ‘I can sort them out, and show you any that are
interesting later, okay? Look, it’s late. Why don’t you scoot off and have a
nice bath before you go to bed? You can use my new body lotion.’

To her relief Naomi took the bait and disappeared upstairs.
Nina stared round the room, looking for somewhere to lay the photos out to sort
through them. The table under the window with its two drop leaves seemed the
best bet. She moved the ugly crystal bowl from the table top, and soon created
a good-sized surface to work on.

‘I don’t think those black and white ones’ll show anything
very interesting,’ she said, putting the small box to one side and accepting a
mug of coffee from Sam. ‘My father would be a child in these. What I’d really
like to find are photos of my parents together, maybe some of me as well. And
anything else with people, too.’

Sam opened the second box. ‘Hm. None of these seem to have a
date on them,’ he said, stirring the photos with his index finger. ‘They’re all
colour, though, so they’ll be more recent. Why don’t I sort them into those
with and without people, and you can arrange the people ones?’

Twenty minutes work was enough to convince Nina she had a
mammoth task on her hands. Surely most families didn’t have half as many snaps
as this; one of her relations must have been an enthusiastic amateur
photographer. She found several photos of John Moore, but none of her mother or
herself, though there were several dozen with strangers. Some included the
woman and the little boy who were on the photos Sam had found in the desk, but
there was no way to tell who anyone was. Not one of the photos had names or
dates on them, and there must be dozens still in the box. Who on earth had
taken them all?

‘This is hopeless,’ said Nina at last. ‘Or at least it’s a
long job and I’m tired. Let’s call it a day. How about a glass of wine to
finish up with? If you open it I’ll check on Naomi.’

Naomi was reading in bed, her eyelids drooping, and Nina’s
heart melted. Poor kiddy, she must be thoroughly upset by everything that had
happened, and none of it was her fault. Time for some TLC.

‘Night, lovey,’ she said softly, sitting down on the edge of
the bed. ‘And don’t worry, things’ll get back to normal soon. Have a think
about what you want to do tomorrow. You can choose.’

Naomi’s lip trembled. ‘I wish I could be at home with my
Gran.’

Nina hugged her. ‘Sweetheart, your Gran will always be a
part of you, and of me too,’ she whispered. ‘We’ll always miss her, and you wouldn’t
want not to, would you? But you know she’d want us both to be happy and live
our lives well. So let’s do that. For her.’

Naomi smiled sleepily and snuggled into her pillow. Nina
tucked the duvet round the little girl and kissed the sun-browned face. What a
good feeling it was that she could comfort her child with the sheer force of
her words. She should make the most of this phase while it lasted; in a couple
of years Naomi wouldn’t be hanging so trustingly on everything her mother said.
And how wonderful to have a daughter and to know that they loved each other.

Downstairs, Sam had opened a bottle of Merlot. ‘Well? Are
the troops settled down?’

He handed over a ruby-filled glass, and Nina sipped. With
Naomi beside her and Sam to help, she was going to get through this.

‘Almost asleep. Thank you, Sam. I had a great time, and
Naomi did too, though you might find that more difficult to believe.’

‘Don’t worry. I can see she’s a great girl.’

They sat there talking about children and parents and photos
and houses, and Nina was startled when she looked at the clock and saw that it
was after midnight. Sam left, squeezing her hand and promising to be in touch
the next day. Nina watched him go, feeling the awkward silence of the old house
envelope her when the sound of his car had gone. Oh, how tired she was.
Creeping into the bedroom, she saw that Naomi was sleeping on her front, one
hand under her cheek and the other trailing on the floor. Nina tucked her in
again and slid into her own bed. It had been an interesting evening in more
ways than one.

Buttered toast in one hand and coffee steaming aromatically
by her side, Nina pored over the photos she and Sam had organised last night.
Naomi was still asleep, so she could take the chance to do some more sorting.
She poked about in the box of colour snaps they’d started on last night. Bloody
hell, there were dozens of them. And really, what good would it do, searching
through boxes of John Moore’s ancient pics? She wasn’t even sure what was she
looking for. The photos might tell her something about her father’s life, but
she already knew he’d been the biggest scumbag in creation. He himself had
deemed the snaps fascinating enough to keep in the attic, so she was unlikely
to find them any more interesting.

Discouraged, Nina opened the third box. More of the same.
Oh! There was something else, too, under the photos.

She extracted a folded piece of paper and smoothed it out on
the table. Well. Now this was interesting. Names, addresses and phone numbers,
about twenty in all. There were two Moores here, they might be the distant
cousins Sam had mentioned. Had the police seen this? Nina reached for her
phone.

‘Yes, we photographed it yesterday,’ said David Mallony. ‘We’ll
be investigating these people, but it was in that box of normal photos so I
shouldn’t think it’s anything more than an old address list.’

‘Okay,’ said Nina. ‘Um – is there any word about the
paternity test?’