Two Women (54 page)

As she left, the woman shook her hand and smiled. ‘Victor was a nice man, Miss O’Hara, he didn’t have it in him to be any other way. And, if necessary, I’ll stand up in court and tell them that. But as a prostitute I wouldn’t be classed as a reliable witness. But I know the truth.’ She punched her chest. ‘In here, I know the truth.’

A tall, pensionable-aged man with iron grey hair and badly fitting teeth was climbing the stairs as Geraldine was leaving. He held an Oddbins carrier bag and had a shifty demeanour. She caught a smell of lavender aftershave and cigar smoke.

She turned and watched him walk into the little flat as though he was an honoured guest and heard Mariah’s tinkling laughter before the door was closed.

Her stomach revolted, yet her heart understood her. She was more surprised about that than anything else. She
liked
Mariah Brewster, actually liked her. Which is more than she could say for her feelings towards Matilda Enderby.

 

‘Can’t you just for once be good, Barry Dalston?’

Mrs Eappen’s words were clipped. She was irritated and it showed. Being the type of person she was this fact annoyed her too. She always liked to think of herself as a nice person, a caring person.

The fact she frequently felt an urge to strangle many of the children in her care made her feel slightly soiled.

She
knew
she was a good person deep down. It was just that Barry Dalston, nose running, trousers hanging off his thin frame and shirt buttoned up wrong, annoyed the life out of her.

‘But, Miss, I don’t like the Simpsons. I only like me mum. I want me mum.’

He was on the verge of tears again and this annoyed her even more.

‘The Simpsons are very nice people who are going to look after your little sister. They’ve been kind enough to allow you and Alana to spend the afternoon with them and Rosie at an adventure playground.’

She attempted a smile but it came out as a grimace.

‘So why can’t you be grateful for that, Barry, eh?’

He looked at her then with his beautiful clear blue eyes and shrugged. His whole nine-year-old body seemed to bristle. He fixed her with a hard stare and said seriously, ‘I want me mum. Why can’t I go and see me mum instead?’

Mrs Eappen raised her eyes to the ceiling as if some miraculous event might occur to make Barry Dalston into a nice little boy.

‘I think the Simpsons should fuck off and bring my sister back. They don’t own her, me mum does.’

Mrs Eappen sighed and gritted her teeth. Kneeling down, she grabbed the little boy’s arms.

‘Bad language is what put your mother in prison, remember that, Barry. It will stand you in good stead all your life. Bad language is the beginning of badness in people. From bad language they become bad inside and do bad things. Like your mother did. Now you will go with the Simpsons and be a grateful boy. There are many children who would love a day out like this. They would know how to be grateful, I can assure you of that.’

He pulled himself free.

‘Well, send them then. I’ll go and see me mum.’

‘You cannot go and see your mother unless it is a designated visit. I explain this to you fifty times a day, child. Your mother gave up the right to see you when she was naughty and the police took her away. Now do you understand that much?’

Her voice was rising though she was trying as hard as she could to control both it and her temper.

Barry still locked his gaze on her and this time he didn’t answer.

‘Do you understand, Barry?’

He sniffed. A loud, noisy, snotty sniff that made Mrs Eappen’s stomach turn and caused her face to pucker up in disgust.

‘Fuck off, you. I want me mum.’

It was said quietly and with conviction. His whole body seemed to be on red alert as he stared at her hard.

Alana came into the room then and laughed.

‘Barry, stop swearing! Mum would give you a smack if she knew.’

She came over to him and tidied him up in seconds. Mrs Eappen watched with despair written all over her pinched face.

‘He learned to swear here, Miss. We wasn’t allowed to swear at home unless we was too small to know what we was saying and even then we got a good hiding if we kept it up.’

‘Quite.’ Mrs Eappen’s whole body was stiff and unyielding and as she stood up to her full height she looked down at the two children as if they had just climbed out of a sewer before sitting down at her dinner table.

‘Well, Alana, you look lovely. Look after Barry and see he’s good for the Simpsons. They’re very kind . . .’

Alana interrupted her then, half smiling.

‘I know, Mrs Eappen. We should be very
grateful
and we are, okay? Very, very grateful.’

Mrs Eappen knew when she was beaten and made a hasty retreat. As she remarked to her husband that night, how could you take a child seriously when she was named after the wife of a bloody rock star!

But Barry and Alana went out for the day, played with their sister, and were completely unaware that soon Rose would be taken from their orbit. Would be a Simpson, and never again a Dalston.

Never again the dote of a house full of children and scuffed furniture, and a mother who had lived permanently on the edge of disaster. Where despite their father, lack of money and lack of luxuries, they had all been so very, very happy.

 

Geraldine walked into Zilli’s and smiled a smile that took in everyone, from Colin sitting in the corner to every waiter, waitress and customer.

Colin was impressed. She knew the stir she created and gave everyone a little bit of her so she could relax then and enjoy herself. He had wondered all afternoon what it must be like to be that attractive. To be that wanted.

As he had showered and put on his only good shirt and trousers, he had wondered what people would think of him sitting down and eating with her. He hoped they would assume they were together, but knew that no one in their wildest imagining would really think that.

Geraldine smiled as she sat opposite him and he smiled back. Sod the world. She was here and he was here, that was all that mattered. Even if people did think he was a younger brother or a client.

‘Sorry I’m late.’

‘That’s okay. I’ve been enjoying myself sitting here. I was early.’

Geraldine grinned. ‘I thought you might be. You look the early type.’

He wasn’t sure if she was laughing at him.

She ordered a good bottle of wine and they drank it together, chatting about nothing.

‘I needed that. Shall we order our food now or have another drink first and relax?’

Colin just smiled and she took control again. Ordered for them both, had the waiter at the table in seconds and then they were together again without any intrusions whatsoever. He thought he had died and gone to heaven. She was exquisite, even more so than he had first thought.

‘So, what’s the goss on Matilda Enderby then?’

Geraldine’s words were playful but he knew she was being serious and thought for a few moments before he answered her.

‘Matty was only his secretary when I worked there, though there was talk about them even then. One of the women in the office returned late to finish an affidavit and caught them in a clinch.’ He grinned. ‘Actually it was more than a clinch. She caught him tied to the chair with Matilda’s stockings and Matilda sitting on his lap. I leave the rest to your imagination. Funny thing was, Victor went up in everyone’s estimation after that. Until then he had been seen as a brilliant lawyer but a bit of a damp squib.

‘She certainly brought him out of himself, I can tell you.’

Geraldine didn’t answer him for a while, lost in her own thoughts.

He waved at her and smiled.

‘Remember me? We were having dinner together and chatting?’

She shook her head and laughed.

‘Sorry, I was miles away there.’ She gulped at her wine. ‘What did you think of her? You met her, I presume, chatted to her?’

Colin ran his hands through his hair and sighed.

‘I never liked her much. She was pretty, lovely really, and she dressed sexily in a sort of school marmish way.

‘I think she went through most of the men in the firm before settling on poor old Victor. I mean, he was an accident waiting to happen. He had looked after his mother for years, he was shy and retiring. You know, if you saw him in court you’d never have believed he was the same bland man you knew at work. It was really strange.’

She nodded.

‘I saw him once or twice, he was bloody good. Tore a witness to pieces in minutes. Yet he never raised his voice, not once. Brilliant.’

‘You know what I mean then. But where she was concerned he was besotted. I mean, think about it. This young, very young, good-looking girl is all over him like a rash. It was laughable, really. A more experienced man would have had her and dumped her, like others in chambers did.

‘But Victor wasn’t really part of their enclave, if you like. He was respected but not a man who socialised with anyone or was part of the bigger picture. He was a great barrister but he went straight home afterwards. He didn’t womanise, didn’t have a joke with anyone, kept himself pretty much to himself.

‘I think Matty knew that and fixed her sights on him. Of course, after the wedding, she wanted them both to be part of that world. Theatre, dinner, the works. I shouldn’t imagine the marriage was a great success. She wasn’t liked by anyone. Especially the wives. I think they saw through her and she knew it. Even Victor wasn’t that thick-skinned, he must have guessed. But then, I suppose he loved her.’

Geraldine stared at the young man before her. He had put his finger on it, she was sure. It seemed with Matty you either loved her or loathed her.

Victor had loved her.

Was that his downfall?

The food arrived then and they were a few minutes getting settled again. ‘I hate to say this,’ Geraldine confided, ‘but I feel there’s more to Matty than meets the eye. All this poor little me and how she suffered, yet there’s not one shred of evidence except a visit to the doctor a week before the killing. Matty apparently gave him a story about marital cruelty and how bad her nerves were. Even the doctor seemed sceptical.

‘She never arrived at work marked. Was never seen marked by anyone. But even though it sounds implausible she said Victor liked a bit of bondage and you’ve borne that out by what you said earlier. So I’m back where I started, really. You see, I don’t much like her either and that bothers me. As a professional I shouldn’t like or dislike people though before Matty I’ve never actually disliked anyone I’ve defended. But she troubles me. Really troubles me.’

Colin nodded. ‘I know what you mean. I feel the same about Susan. Only I like her too much. Even though she tried to strangle me today, I understood why she went berserk. I know how she feels for her kids and I certainly know how they feel for her. She kept that family going, no matter what happened to her.

‘Barry Dalston was a piece of shit. He beat and degraded her. I have access to her medical records and listen to this. Her first child died because he gave her VD on her wedding night. Whether it was the fright of finding out that caused the stillbirth isn’t known but it set the tone for the whole marriage. She gave and he took. Finally she hit him with a hammer over one hundred times. His face was gone, there was nothing left to say what he had looked like, what he had experienced before death, nothing. She walked in while he was unconscious and she killed him. Then she phoned the police and made herself a coffee. She was still covered in blood, brain and bone when they arrived. Now why did she kill him like that? Why did she take away his identity, if you like? It was as if she wanted to obliterate him completely so there was nothing left of him for anyone.’

He looked at Geraldine, who was staring down at her lovely chicken liver salad, and sighed.

‘I’m sorry. I didn’t think.’

Geraldine looked suspiciously green around the gills and he felt awful.

‘It’s just that it intrigues me, you know? Can a person take so much that when they finally flip, they flip for us all? For every slight, every punch, every hurt? Do they become so upset that rationality goes out of the window and they have to kill then? But it seems so premeditated. Did she walk into the room, see him lying there and decide to take him away from her world, her kids, her home? What made her do it then? He had hit her about five days before so she can’t use that as an excuse. Why didn’t she kill him the night he attacked her? Why wait? She had been on a night out and she was drunk. But according to her friend Doreen she’d had a great time and enjoyed herself. Susan admits that too. She says she came home and just decided to kill him.

‘I don’t believe her. I just don’t. She took more than anyone else would take and she protected her kids. She would never have left them unless she had to. She worships those children, they are her life. So why did she all of a sudden decide she would do something that would take her from them? Leave them in care. She knew what her family were like. Lowlife scum, out for a few quid. She didn’t want her own children in their care even if they offered. It just doesn’t add up.’

‘Perhaps it was the drink? It could have made her violent.’

Colin ran his fingers through his already untidy hair until it stood on end and made him look like a little boy.

‘I don’t think so. I don’t think it was drink. I don’t think it was anything we can rationalise.’

‘What then? Why did she do it?’

He sighed.

‘I don’t know. I really don’t. But one day, please God, I will find out.’

Geraldine studied him. She saw how tortured he was by Susan Dalston, could see how much he liked the woman, respected her even. She could feel his disapproval too, the feeling that somehow she had let her kids down by putting herself in a situation where she could no longer be there to protect them.