The Back of Beyond (44 page)

It was almost midnight, with all three men on the verge of collapse, when, after Birnie had again denied ever being in Aberdeenshire, Liddell said, wearily, ‘So if we take you to a small village some miles to the north of Aberdeen tomorrow, you will be confident of not being recognized?'

At this, Birnie jumped to his feet, his face crimson with anger. ‘Can't you get it into your thick police skull that I have never – ever! – set foot in Forvit?' His colour draining, he thumped down on his seat again.

Almost simultaneously, Gaudie threw down his pencil with a smirk on his face, and Liddell himself leaned back with a tremendous feeling of satisfaction. He had known Birnie would put his foot in it eventually.

Tilly was smiling as she came in with the post. ‘It's for you, Gwen, but just look at how it's addressed. Mrs A. Ritchie, care of Tilly and Fred, Somewhere in Moltby, Near Newcastle, and somebody in the post office has written, “Try Barker, Jasmine Cottage.” Just as well, or you mightn't have …'

Grabbing the letter, Gwen gasped, ‘It's David's writing. Oh, God! Maybe Alistair's ill, or Leila.' Her nervous fingers made a sorry mess of the envelope, but at last she drew out the single sheet. ‘“Dear Mum,”' she read out, ‘“if you ever get this letter, please come home as soon as you can. Your loving son, David.” Oh, goodness, something must be far wrong up there.'

Tilly shook her head. ‘David must be missing you, he's still very young.'

‘He knows I can't go back. His father as good as threw me out.'

‘Alistair likely didn't want to climb down, so he let David do the pleading.'

‘D'you really think that's it?' A note of hope came through the question.

‘It's how it looks to me.' Tilly's brow suddenly furrowed. ‘But Alistair knows where you are … doesn't he?'

‘I never told Marge or Peg where I was going,' Gwen muttered, guiltily.

Gasping, Tilly said, ‘No wonder nobody's written before. They must be frantic with worry, and it's high time you got in touch. Go and phone right this minute.'

It was with some reluctance that Gwen went upstairs for her purse, but she was down in seconds pulling on her coat. ‘I'm not going to be bulldozed into going home, though, if I don't think Alistair wants me.'

The nearest telephone kiosk being in the village proper, Tilly knew that she would be gone for at least twenty minutes, and busied herself by sweeping the flagged kitchen floor, sluicing down her back doorstep and emptying the teapot on to the rose bush under the bedroom window. Then she went back inside, filled the kettle and put it on the stove. Gwen would likely be glad of something to heat her when she came in out of that cold wind.

Gwen timed it perfectly, running in, her face ashen, as the kettle started to warble.

‘What's up, love?' cried Tilly, jumping up to take her in her arms.

‘Marge is dead! And I didn't know! Oh, Tilly, it's awful!'

‘There, there, my lovie. Don't upset yourself.'

‘But I didn't know, that's what hurts. A big pipe fell off a lorry and hit her, and she died on the way to hospital, and Peg said they'd all been worried stiff about me.' She took in a deep gulp of air and went on, ‘Alistair had phoned Peg to ask your address, but she'd never heard of you, and I took my address book away with me.'

‘You should have phoned his shop when you were at it. I'm sure he'd have dropped everything and come to you.'

‘I just had the two pennies, but Peg said she'd ring him and tell him I'd be at Lee Green. She wants me there as soon as I can … to talk about …'

Tilly's sympathy metamorphosed into brisk efficiency as she organized her soon-to-be-ex-lodger and looked up the LNER timetable. ‘There's a train at ten past two, so you'll need to catch the 12.45 bus from here. You'll just have time to get your things together and have a bite of something to keep you going.'

Gwen was glad that she'd have no time to brood over her sister's death, although Marge's cheery face still flashed into her mind occasionally.

Their leave-taking was harrowing, because Tilly, as close to Gwen now as Ivy had been, couldn't hold back the tears, which set her off, too. Everything bad, as well as good, comes to an end, however, and at last she was sitting on the bus with her bag at her feet and her hands clenched.

She was on her way to Lee Green again, but even though Peggy had said she would tell Alistair to drop everything and come to London, too, it would be anything but a happy homecoming.

Chapter 35

The welcome in Lee Green was even more traumatic than the farewell in Moltby. Hours were spent in the telling of, and the mourning for, Marge's death. Over the months since it happened, Peggy had learned to hide her sorrow, to profess acceptance, but the fragile veneer was scraped away by the depth of Gwen's grief. ‘I should have been here,' she sobbed. ‘I can't bear to think she died and I didn't even feel something inside me.'

Peggy put extra pressure on the hand she was gripping. ‘It wouldn't have made any difference, Gwennie. She never regained consciousness. She wouldn't have known that none of her family was with her at the end, only two ambulance men.'

And so it went on, the tearing apart of one heart and the desperate struggle of the other not to let the wound open again, and when Dougal came home from work it began all over again, with him doing his best to console his wife's sisters while he, the bereaved husband, was equally in need of comfort – even more so, in fact.

It was almost time for bed when Gwen remembered. ‘Where's Nicky? Who's been looking after him?'

‘You remember Eth Powell, three doors down? I asked if she'd take him today and keep him overnight, till I saw how you were.' Peggy glanced at Dougal now and, a slight nod telling her it was all right, she continued, ‘Pam Deans looked after him at first while we were at work, till one of her sons persuaded her to go and live with him and his wife. Then … well, I gave up my job and took over.'

‘And
you
bath him when you come home, and put him to bed?' Gwen asked Dougal.

‘That's how it was for a while,' he answered, carefully.

‘But not any more?'

‘Let me tell her.' Peggy regarded Gwen apprehensively. ‘For the first few weeks, I went to my own house as soon as Dougal came in, but it seemed so silly to be burning two lots of electricity and gas, so … I more or less talked him into letting me move in here.'

Dougal took up the explanation. ‘Gwen, I can see by your face what you think, but it wasn't like that. We stuck to the rules and slept in different rooms, but we had all our meals together, and sat together in the evenings, remembering things Marge used to say and do, and … we gradually began to feel closer to each other. I suppose it was inevitable, really, two lonely people brought together by one vulnerable little boy. We still sleep in separate rooms, Gwen, we haven't done anything wrong. We were hoping and praying you'd come back, because we want your blessing on us getting married in another six months or so. It's the only way it would feel right for us.'

She looked down at her hands, uncertain of how she felt. It seemed awful that Dougal was thinking of taking a second wife so soon, yet … why shouldn't he? He was a decent man. He hadn't jumped straight into bed with another woman, and if he did feel the need of somebody else, he couldn't do better than Peggy. Gwen lifted her head again, and her heart went out to the two people waiting so anxiously for her verdict. She had been on her own for months now, yet she had always cherished a faint hope that she could go back to Alistair one day. They didn't have that – Alf and Marge were gone for good.

The thing was, if Peg was wrong about Alistair, it would be difficult to live where she would see Nicky every day. She would have to keep her distance, be an aunt not a mother … which was probably just as well. If Alistair ever did want her back, he wouldn't want Nicky thrown in.

‘Dougal,' she began, ‘don't think I'm against you two getting married. It's just I'll have to get used to the idea – it's been quite a shock on top of …'

‘We discussed it night after night,' Peggy said, quietly, ‘and we've decided to put both houses on the market and move to another district altogether.'

‘Either that,' added Dougal, tentatively, ‘or … my mother's getting on now, and I'd like to see her and my sister again. Once we sell up here, we could easily afford a holiday in America for the three of us, and there's always the chance I could get a better job and settle over there. What do you think?'

‘It's up to you.' Gwen's throat had tightened. She was happy for Nicky that Dougal was including him in their plans, although, if they remained over there, she would never see her younger son again, and her last sister would be lost to her, as well.

Seeing how their news had affected her, Peggy said, ‘Leave it just now, Dougal. She still hasn't got over Marge.'

‘None of us'll ever get over Marge,' he said sharply, ‘but you're right. It's too soon for us to be making definite plans.' He paused, then said, ‘Peg, did you remember to phone Alistair?'

‘Yes, just after I phoned you, and he said he'd get here as soon as he could. They've all missed you, you know, Gwen.'

‘David and Leila probably have, but I'm not so sure about Alistair.'

‘He's had time to cool down and think,' Peggy said hastily, to avoid the subject being dragged up and dissected again. ‘I'm almost sure he wants you to go home.'

‘I'll believe that when he tells me himself. Being a prisoner of war changed him, you know. The old Alistair would have been shocked at what I did, but he'd have got over it. This Alistair broods over things, and …' She broke off with a sigh. ‘I'll just have to wait and see what happens.'

The phone call put Alistair into a state of flux. He didn't know whether to be glad or sorry that Gwen had materialized again. He had been out of his mind wondering if she was all right, yet he couldn't forgive her. She apparently wanted to come back, but it was all very well for her. She wasn't the one who had been betrayed. It wasn't her heart that had come within a hairsbreadth of being ground to dust. She wouldn't have to cope with nightly images of her spouse making love with somebody else.

What worried him more than anything, though, was the fact that David had felt driven to write to his mother. If the boy missed her as much as that …?

‘Who was that on the phone?' Leila was looking at him in some concern.

‘Your Auntie Peggy. Did you know David had written to your mother?'

‘Where did he get her address?'

‘God knows.'

‘What are you going to do, Dad? Are you going to let her come home?'

He gave a doubtful shrug. ‘Do you and David want her home?'

‘Of course we do. Don't you?'

He avoided her eyes. ‘I don't know, Leila, and that's the truth. She … no, I still can't speak about it, not yet and especially not to you.'

‘Don't be too hard on her, Dad. She's been punished for what she did – she must have spent years wondering when the axe was going to fall. She's not a bad person.'

‘I know that, but … no, you can't understand, Leila.'

‘Maybe I can't, but … please, Dad, make her come home.'

He raised his head again. ‘I said I'd go to speak to her, and we'd see what happens. Will we shut up the shop for a few days, or will you two manage to keep things going till I come back?'

‘We'll manage.'

‘Just take a note of anything I need to do, and I'll attend to it when I get back. I'll have to go and pack a few things, so you and David will have to take the bus home.'

‘I bet he would crawl home on his hands and knees if it would bring Mum back.'

Her trill of laughter was music to his ears; neither she nor David had so much as smiled for some time, and his own heart lightened a little as he went out to his car.

On his way to Forvit, he decided that he might as well tell Lexie that he was going to see Gwen. Whatever she said, even if she told him he was being a fool, it wouldn't make him change his mind, but it was best that she knew.

It proved difficult to speak about personal matters in the shop. He was forced to stop each time a customer came in, and he had only got as far as telling her how David had worked out where to contact his mother, when they were interrupted again.

This time, it was Detective Inspector Roddy Liddell who walked in, his face so grave that they both knew he had something seriously bad to impart. ‘I'd advise you to shut the shop, Lexie,' he began, then looked at Alistair. ‘I'm glad you're here, too. She's going to need somebody and I'll have to get back after I say what I have to say.'

Noticing that the blood had ebbed from Lexie's face, Alistair took it upon himself to walk across to the shop door, turn the key in the lock and push down the snib. ‘What is it? Has there been a new development?'

Liddell was already shepherding her through the connecting door to her house, his arm protectively round her waist, and all thoughts of going to London flew out of Alistair's mind as he followed them. Whatever the 'tec had to tell Lexie, he appeared to be quite sure that it would knock her for six.

In the kitchen, Liddell sat on the sofa with her, taking her hand between both of his, but Alistair, waiting to hear the bad news, remained standing.

‘I wish I didn't have to do this,' Roddy said, after a moment. ‘And I don't know where to begin.'

‘It might be a good idea to begin at the beginning.' Alistair couldn't help the sarcasm.

‘Yes, of course. Yesterday, my sergeant and I went to the address in Inveraray given by Mrs Chalmers. The man who answered the door denied that he was Tom Birnie, but we took him in for questioning anyway.'

With both his listeners' attention riveted on him, he told them of the long hours of questioning before the man made his fatal slip and his interrogators knew for certain that he
was
the man they were after.

An important question occurred to Alistair. ‘If he hadn't shot himself in the foot, so to speak, would you have let him go?'

Liddell gave his head a firm shake. ‘No, I was one hundred per cent positive that we had the right man and we'd have kept on and on at him until he did crack. He gave the game away by naming Forvit, which we had avoided mentioning, so we brought him up to Aberdeen to get his full statement, and believe me, once he started, he didn't want to stop. He boasted about all the young girls he had seduced – that was the word he used, but we did get him to admit that in most cases it had been rape – and then he came to Nancy Lawrie. I'll read a bit of my sergeant's notes. He's good, got it almost verbatim.

‘I'd actually grown quite fond of the girl, but when she collared me one day and said she was in the family way and what was I going to do about it, she got me on the raw. I thought she was trying to trap me and I got really angry. I said it wasn't mine, and I could take no responsibility for it. She had got herself into the mess and she could bloody well get herself out of it.'

At this point, Lexie spoke for the first time. ‘Nancy said he promised to marry her when his wife divorced him, though he never did, but he got her a room in Edinburgh.'

The detective nodded his agreement with this. ‘That came later. At first, she was so upset by the doctor's attitude, and scared that her parents would find out, that when your father asked her why she was crying, she burst out with the whole sorry story.'

‘Yes, she told me all that, and Dad went to Tom Birnie and threatened to tell his wife what he'd done if he didn't support Nancy and the child.'

Liddell hesitated before saying – softly wary and obviously ready to stop if Lexie's reaction was too strong – ‘This is when it turned really nasty, I'm afraid. He fooled Nancy into believing that he would marry her when his wife divorced him, but he says he never had any intention of leaving her. It was she who had the money, you see, and he didn't want to foul his own nest by admitting what he had done.

‘Unfortunately, he hadn't fooled Margaret. She had known for years the kind of man he was and hadn't been particularly worried because she knew he wasn't serious about any of them … until Nancy. So she tackled him one night and they'd had a ding-dong row that went on for hours, he said, and was still raging when they went up to bed. She had thrown every bad name she knew at him, and at first he laughed it off, but when she started to say foul things about Nancy, he lost his temper and hit her to shut her up. It didn't stop her, though, and she kept on, pummelling into him while she spat out more filth and …'

Liddell glanced briefly at Alistair before he went on, ‘He says he didn't mean to kill her, but he lost control altogether, and one of his punches knocked her on to the bed and he lifted a pillow without thinking and suffocated her.'

Lexie rendered speechless by this, it was left to Alistair to say, ‘You can't suffocate somebody without meaning to, though.'

‘No, it was definitely murder, but probably unpremeditated. At any rate, he panicked, and sat for a while wondering what to do, till he realized that the longer he waited, the worse it would be for him to shift her – rigor mortis sets in after so many hours. Of course, it disappears again after about another twenty-four hours, but he couldn't wait that long to dispose of the body. So he wrapped it in the bedspread, bumped her down the stairs and through the kitchen, but unluckily for him …'

Liddell's voice had begun to waver before he stopped speaking, and now he put one arm round Lexie's shoulders. ‘This is the worst bit for you to hear, my dear, and I should probably have told you this first, but …'

He looked round at Alistair, who said, ‘Aye, it was my fault you didn't. But go on, tell us now, for God's sake. Has this something to do with Lexie's father?'

‘Yes. I'm afraid so. Birnie said that when he opened the back door, Alec Fraser was standing on the step with his hand raised ready to knock. He said he'd come to ask if Margaret was well enough, because she hadn't turned up for choir practice that night, then, according to Birnie, Alec looked past him and saw what he shouldn't have seen. A strand of Margaret's hair had worked its way out at the top of the bedspread.'