I remember you an addict.., p.20
I Remember You: An addictive suspense thriller, page 20
‘Except one of the cottages burned down recently,’ I said.
Paul rubbed the back of his neck. ‘And you think, what? That Frank is involved?’
I hesitated but then nodded. ‘Actually, yes, I do think he’s involved. I think he burned down the cottage and I think he’s hiding other things too. I don’t know if it’s…’
I was silenced by Paul’s raised hand.
‘Stop!’ he demanded. ‘You’re right, young lady, you don’t know. You can’t go making accusations like that about someone, let alone the man who is my boss, the man who has you as a guest in his home.’
I gritted my teeth. ‘He keeps mistaking me for his dead sister for goodness sake!’
‘So, the man’s confused, maybe you have a look of her, who the hell knows. He maybe needs help, rather than judgement.’
‘That’s exactly what I’m trying to say, Paul. He needs help, before something bad happens. Before he, or someone else, gets hurt.’
I didn’t see Frank and Kathy again until that evening. Usually Mrs Brotherton would prepare dinner and we would eat together. That evening, though, there were no signs of life. I assumed they were out. Under the circumstances, it suited me to have the place to myself. I ate some soup and a sandwich at the kitchen table, then spent the evening reading by the fire. I even dozed off for a while. I was roused by the sound of footsteps outside.
‘I feel better now we agree,’ Frank’s voice said.
‘Me too, darling. Me too.’
The door opened, and the Brothertons walked in together with smiles on their faces.
‘Ah, Victoria, there you are,’ Kathy said warmly. She nudged her husband and then grinned at me. ‘Caught you napping, have we?’
I rubbed sleep from my eyes and stretched. ‘Just this minute woke up. Have you had a nice evening?’
‘Yes, cleared the air,’ Frank said. ‘We see what’s going on now, so we can sort it out together.’
They went off to bed, leaving me sitting in the glow of the embers of the fire. It should have been relaxing, but the sudden change in their demeanours made me uneasy.
Despite their peculiarities, I cared deeply for the Brothertons. They had treated me like family and I hated to see them struggling. I wondered if I might help, and, if so, what I might actually do. I couldn’t believe there was any problem so big it couldn’t be fixed. With that in mind, I resolved to speak to them the following morning over breakfast.
I woke up feeling positive. I bounced into the kitchen intending to raise my concerns. It seemed, however, I wasn’t the only one who had been making decisions.
Barbara, Paul and Mr and Mrs Brotherton were seated at the kitchen table. I opened my mouth to say “good morning” but before I was able to Paul raised his voice.
‘You’re letting us go?’ he asked loudly. He was staring at Frank and Kathy, his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open. I wished I hadn’t entered the room. But equally I didn’t want to miss anything.
Barbara smiled and patted the back of Paul’s hand as if to reassure him she had everything under control. ‘You must be mistaken,’ she said with certainty. ‘This is all so sudden.’
Kathy was fidgeting and looking around the room. When she spoke her voice had a tremor. ‘No, it’s for the best. Just for now. We need to cut back, rethink.’
‘Rethink what, exactly?’ Paul demanded. He leaned over the kitchen table, his face reddening.
‘Look,’ said Frank in a firmer tone than his wife had adopted. ‘Things haven’t been right here for a while now. At first I thought it was just bad luck. But lately I’ve seen more clearly. Someone is out to get us.’
‘What are you saying?’ Barbara asked, her brow furrowed.
‘Conspiracy, jealousy – call it what you will, but there are forces working against us, against our business.’
Barbara and Paul looked at each other. Barbara raised her palms and shrugged. I was frozen to the spot about three steps into the kitchen. Nobody had even registered my appearance.
‘So, what about the business then?’ Paul asked, pointing in the general direction of the farm and the cottages. ‘You’re just abandoning it?’
‘We’ve been left little choice.’
‘But there are bookings in place. People will come to stay,’ Barbara added desperately.
Paul rubbed his hands on his head and then put his clenched fist to his mouth. He took a breath and when he spoke his tone was calmer. ‘Frank, we’ve just poured the concrete for the new car park as part of the expansion. It’s not even finished, and now we’re just leaving it?’
Frank dismissed the question with a wave of his hand. ‘I will not keep repeating myself. We have given our reasons and that is that.’
Paul rose to his feet, his face purple. ‘You’ve given no reasons at all, man!’ he shouted, banging his fist on the table. ‘This is bloody madness. Financial suicide. You can’t just stop running a business because you want to. There’s commitments.’
‘And what about our pay?’ Barbara asked. There was now a noticeable tremolo effect in her voice.
‘You’ll be paid as usual this month,’ Mrs Brotherton answered. She was still looking anywhere but at Paul and Barbara.
‘And then what?’ Barbara cried, tears trickling down her cheeks. ‘I’ve been with you since the beginning. I’ve got a mortgage still to pay. Bills. What will I do?’
Frank shook his head and looked at Barbara earnestly. ‘I wish we could help, really I do. But our hands are tied.’
‘Look,’ Paul said through gritted teeth, his eyes wide with rage. ‘I don’t know what the hell is going on with you two, but we’re on the edge of falling out here. We’ve known each other a long time, we’re friends. Let me and Barbara help. We can sort this out, surely.’
But the Brothertons weren’t for budging.
‘Then you’ll be hearing from my solicitor,’ Paul said. ‘Maybe it’s like Victoria said, maybe you have gone crazy.’ He walked out and slammed the kitchen door so hard that I jumped.
Barbara was wringing her hands and glancing uncertainly at the Brothertons. ‘So, what do I do now?’ she asked again. ‘Do you want me to stay for today or…’
‘Best if you just go home, Barbara. Best all round,’ said Kathy gently.
A few more seconds passed, and then Barbara left the house without another word.
‘Morning,’ I said, my face twisted into a grimace. I couldn’t help but overhear. About what Paul said, I don’t think…’
Frank waved his hand. ‘Just making some changes,’ Frank said, as if that explained everything. ‘Taking back some control. Isn’t that right, dear?’
His wife nodded, though her eyes were hard. ‘It is. Now, shall we have some breakfast?’
I was the first to admit my life had been far from normal, but I can honestly say it felt like the single most bizarre experience I’d ever had.
‘I know this has nothing to do with me,’ I began. ‘But maybe I can help. If you just tell me what you think the problem is, perhaps there’s something that can be done. Something you haven’t thought of. I’d hate to see you lose everything you’ve worked so hard for.’
‘Too late for that, Victoria. I missed the signs for so long. But now I see, and I will not stand back.’ Mr Brotherton raised his finger in the air, a gesture of defiance, or madness, depending on your point of view.
‘Here we are,’ said his wife brightly, placing a plate in front of him. ‘Let’s tuck in while it’s hot.’
So there we sat. The three of us eating bacon and eggs like a happy family. Except we were neither.
After we had eaten I said I would clear up. This was greeted with much appreciation by my increasingly worrisome hosts, who declared they had a lot to do and disappeared in their car shortly after.
The moment they had gone I abandoned the kitchen and headed for the small office at the other side of the house. This craziness had gone far enough. I was determined to find something that could help, though I had no clue what that might be.
I went straight to the filing cabinet in the corner of the room and tried the drawers. They were all unlocked. From what I could see, all the files in there were archived guest records and invoices. Nothing that jumped out as being threatening or significant.
I switched on the computer that sat on the large wooden table that served as a desk. While it was booting up I scanned the few pieces of paper on the desk. Notes regarding bookings and the expansion plans. Again, nothing that looked like it would cause any problem.
The computer seemed to take forever to arrive at the login screen. I clicked the mouse repeatedly and jiggled my legs up and down. I could have been discovered at any time and had no good reason for being there.
On the desktop were a number of folders containing accounts information and what looked like tax information. I had no idea what any of it meant, but nothing that I’d seen used any words such as ‘overdue’ or ‘final demand’.
I sat in the office chair, tapping my fingers on the desk as I pondered my next move. I looked at the walls. A calendar. A photograph of the house, another of Alice as a young girl – nothing that particularly caught my attention. I stiffened when I thought I heard a noise. I held my breath and could only hear my heart pounding in my chest.
I spun on the chair, intending to get out of the office, but my foot caught the bin under the desk and it banged into the table. I had no idea a bin could make so much noise. My pulse pounded in my head as I looked down and spotted a bank logo on some paper in the bin. I emptied the contents onto the office floor, and I skimmed the first letter.
Payment has not been received this month…standing order has been cancelled…please reinstate the payment as soon as possible or contact us if there is a problem.
So the Brotherton’s were having financial difficulties! I flicked through the other papers and found a second, more recent letter from the bank. I had to leave it on the floor as my hands were shaking so much I couldn’t read it. This one adopted a firmer tone.
Further to our previous letter, payment is still outstanding and a second payment has been missed. We also note that the standing order has not been reinstated as requested…your property is at risk unless payments are made.
‘Jackpot!’ I said. It was the first tangible proof I had found that there was a genuine issue. I thought back to Mr Brotherton burning paperwork. Was he burning something that would explain the missing mortgage payments? Was he trying to hide it from his wife?
I considered the night of the cottage fire. If Frank and Kathy were in financial difficulties then perhaps Frank had started the fire to claim on the insurance. Had I really smelled petrol on Mr Brotherton? Now I had found the letters from the bank, I was able to convince myself that I had.
26 Alex, now
I’m fast becoming a nervous wreck. The rattle of the letterbox causes my heart to skip a beat, which means every mail delivery has become a traumatic event. My routine for the past few days has been to wave Mike off to work and then watch for the arrival of the postman and greet him at the door. I don’t relax until I have the letters in my hand and I’ve confirmed there’s nothing threatening.
At night I lie awake, turning over and over in my mind the possible origins of the postcards. Considering and dismissing names who may or may not be responsible.
This in turn has led to lethargic days where I wander the house like a zombie. Concentrating on the decorating takes all my effort, and my eyes have started to twitch. I snatch sleep on the couch, rousing myself before Mike returns home.
I spent this morning peeling masking tape from the floor. In my exhausted state I struggled to get the tape off and ended up clawing at it like a dog digging a hole. I swore and gave up, rolling onto my back, putting my hands over my eyes and sobbing.
I decide to go and see how Olivia is. She’s only just been discharged from hospital, so if she’s not up for company I’ll go for a run. But I need a break from decorating.
‘Hi,’ Olivia says with a smile when she opens the door. She hugs me, and I follow her to the living room.
‘How are you feeling?’ I ask. ‘You look tired.’
‘You’re a fine one to talk. You look worn out, if you don’t mind me saying so.’
‘All that bloody decorating,’ I joke. ‘I’ll be glad to see the end of it. Any updates?’
‘I had my first counselling session yesterday.’ Olivia hesitates, and I wonder if it’s the first time she’s said that out loud. She speaks slowly, as if she’s thinking about each word. ‘It’s very early days, but I feel positive about it, enthusiastic even.’ She pauses again and then nods, perhaps confirming to herself that she’s chosen the right words. ‘It was quite hard talking to a stranger about something I’ve kept secret for so long. I cried quite a lot. But I have to stick with it.’
‘And how are things with Chris?’ I ask gently. She is clearly fragile and I don’t want to say the wrong thing.
The negative reaction I had feared does not materialise. Instead Olivia’s face brightens into a smile. ‘He’s spoken with our solicitor and instructed her to pursue an equity release on the house to cover the debts I’ve built up.’
‘Wow. I suppose that means divorce is off the table then?’
‘For now.’ Olivia says. She sounds relieved. ‘But he’s restricted all my access to anything financial. He’s had new cards issued for all our accounts but only in his name, so none of my gambling accounts would work even if I did relapse. Not that I’m planning to.’
I raise my eyebrows. ‘Bit controlling, isn’t it?’
She nods but there is no malice in her tone. ‘Very. But I could have lost everything and destroyed our family. I broke his trust, and I need to earn that back over time. All part of the process. Thanking you is also part of that process.’
‘What do you mean?’ I ask, frowning.
She leans forward and takes my hand. Suddenly there are tears in her eyes. ‘You saved my life, Alex.’
‘Give over, it was just—’
She pulls my hand towards her so I have to lean forward. ‘Don’t minimise it. I’d reached rock bottom, given up. I knew nobody would find me. I didn’t intend for anyone to find me. Yet you did. Something brought you here in time to make sure I lived. Now my family is still together and I’m tackling my problems.’ Her voice is wobbling a little. ‘Because of you.’
I retrieve my hand and lean back, shaking my head. ‘It could have been anyone who found you. It just happened to be me. The main thing is you’re okay now.’
‘Why were you here?’ she asks. ‘I mean, I was a total bitch when you came round the first time. I was even rude to the glazier who came to fix the glass in the door.’
I hesitate. If I tell the truth, more questions will follow. Questions I will struggle to answer. So I lie.
‘I didn’t like how we left things. I decided to come back and clear the air. Good job I did, I suppose.’
Olivia leans forward again and squeezes my arm. ‘Very good job. Now, tell me what’s keeping you up at night? Because I know it’s not just the decorating.’
The doorbell spares me from further interrogation. Olivia goes to answer the door and returns with Chloe. I smile but do not miss the slight scowl when Chloe spots me, which she tries to hide with a thin-lipped smile. Perhaps it’s understandable, given the last time I spoke with her she was telling me about her affair with the former owner of my house.
Olivia makes coffee while Chloe and I exchange pleasantries. It feels a little forced, and I’m relieved when Olivia returns.
‘So, Chloe. You’ve got news?’ Olivia says.
Chloe nods eagerly, turning to face Olivia. ‘John’s had word from the solicitor. They’ve got an address for the Carrolls, and we’re taking them to court for the money we invested.’
‘Wow!’ Olivia exclaims. ‘That’s amazing.’
‘The plan is that everyone else who invested with them can put in similar claims. But that’s not the only reason I’m here.’
Olivia sips her coffee. ‘Oh?’
Chloe stares into her own coffee mug. ‘Look, Bec, I know this is really awkward given our past with Kevin. But I want to see him,’ she says quickly and with some desperation. ‘I have to see him.’
Olivia glances at me, and I take that as a signal to get involved in the conversation. I sit up and talk to the side of Chloe’s head since she is still facing away from me.
‘Chloe, sweetheart, that’s not a good idea.’
Chloe stiffens and turns her head slightly in my direction but does not make eye contact. ‘Perhaps. But I need to know why he left things as he did. I just want answers. Is that so wrong?’ she snaps.
‘Chloe,’ I keep my tone gentle, friendly. ‘His wife will be there. You don’t want a scene. It’s best left alone.’
Chloe turns to look at me, and her eyes are cold. ‘Alex, with all due respect, this really isn’t your concern. You don’t even know the Carrolls.’
‘Chloe, there’s no need for that,’ Olivia warns. ‘Alex is right. It’s not a good idea.’
Chloe sits back and crosses her arms, then immediately uncrosses them and waves one angrily as she speaks. ‘I’m not going to cause a scene,’ she insists. ‘I just want him to accept some responsibility for what he did. He lied to me, to all of us; he really, really, hurt me.’ She pauses, tears in her eyes, her breath coming in gasps.
Olivia hands Chloe a tissue from a box on the coffee table. ‘So you go to see him. Then what? What if he doesn’t say what you want to hear?’
‘What do you mean?’ Chloe asks, dabbing at her eyes.
‘I mean, Kevin, in fact both of them, are clearly not the people we thought they were. They were lying to our faces the whole time.’
‘But he loved me,’ Chloe says, rather pathetically.
I place my hand on Chloe’s leg, hoping I seem supportive. ‘And after all that’s happened, you still think that was true?’
Chloe ignores my questions and stands up. ‘Look,’ she says defiantly. ‘I’m going to see him. I didn’t come to ask your permission, Olivia. I came to ask you to come with me.’
