The Attic Room: A psychological thriller - Huber Linda - Страница 14
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‘Yes. The lawyer’s driving us back. Sam Harrison. He’s helping us this afternoon because the police have taken over some of his work to find out how we’re related to John Moore.’
‘The police? Why?’
The news at least had the effect of distracting Naomi from her misery. Nina hugged the girl again. She had already concluded that there was no point trying to hide what was going on from Naomi, so the explanation would give her daughter still more food for thought, even though Nina was going to keep schtum about the paedophilia part for the moment.
‘Because a letter arrived for John Moore yesterday, trying to blackmail him – that means threaten him to make him do something, and that’s illegal. So I called the police. Look, here’s the coffee shop where we’re meeting Sam.’
Naomi was quiet on the drive back to Bedford. They were a mile or two south of Luton when her mobile rang, and she had an animated conversation with her father in Cape Town. Nina listened, holding Naomi’s hand. They were both in the back seat, which made poor Sam look like a chauffeur.
Eventually Naomi clicked off her mobile and blinked up at Nina. ‘Dad says he sprained his wrist when he was about my age too, when he fell downstairs. He said it was better in a week or two. Oh, Mummy, I wish it had never happened. The others’ll be out there riding right now. And we were going to gallop on the beach at Kildonan tomorrow, and take the ponies into the sea. It’s not fair.’
Naomi subsided, nestling up close again, and Nina’s heart sank. Naomi had way too much to cope with at the moment, that was what wasn’t fair. She wasn’t usually a clingy, cuddly child. It was time to be supermum for a while, make sure that their dead relation’s non-presence in their lives didn’t worry Naomi any more than she was worried already.
‘Ladies. What do you want to do about food?’
Nina glanced out of the window. They were approaching the exit for Bedford. She and Sam had discussed possible dinner plans on the way to Heathrow, but Nina wanted to see how Naomi was before making any decisions. Originally of course she’d been supposed to go to Sam’s flat for pizza. Nina sighed. She could tell Naomi wasn’t in the mood for fun evenings out.
‘I think we’ll go straight back to the house, Sam,’ she said. ‘Naomi’s tired – and of course I want to show her everything, too.’ This last was added on quickly as Naomi stirred indignantly. Silly me, thought Nina, grinning in spite of herself. Ten-year-olds didn’t get tired, they were almost grown-up already, not babies…
Sam’s shoulders drooped and for a brief moment Nina felt guilty. But Naomi needed a cosy evening with Mum and lots of cuddles. And she was the luckiest woman in the world to be able to give her daughter just that.
Chapter Nine
Wednesday 19th July
Naomi was still asleep in her bed by the window when Nina awoke the next morning, and for a few glorious moments she lay still, gazing across at her daughter. How miraculous it was that this perfect being had grown inside her. That her tiny, beautiful baby had developed into such an amazing creature. Mother love must be the greatest emotion possible, she thought, particularly when the children were young and vulnerable. But maybe mothers never lost the feeling no matter what age their children were; maybe she would look at Naomi and feel exactly the same when they were seventy and fifty.
They’d gone to bed early in the largest front bedroom, which in spite of Nina’s apprehension had scrubbed up rather well. There was nothing she could do about the drab paintwork, but a couple of green and blue blankets from the airing cupboard made brilliant throws for the beds, and the pair of blue glass vases she found in the living room cupboard made a second splash of colour on the chest of drawers. Anyway, Naomi was so spaced out by the thought that they’d inherited this enormous house from a ‘sort of cousin’ that she didn’t notice the drabness of the decor. What they should do with the house, and her wrist, were her sole topics of conversation, even when they’d gone to bed and were whispering together like two schoolgirls.
Today would be different, Nina knew. Naomi was no fool. The question about why they didn’t know the exact relationship between them and John Moore wouldn’t be long in coming, and the blackmail letter would get a grilling too. Well, the only thing to do was tell the truth, thought Nina. Tell the truth and shame the devil, like Grandma Lily used to say.
She thought about her grandmother’s words while she was getting dressed. Both Lily and Claire were always so insistent about never telling lies. It was difficult to see why Claire had lied by omission, never mentioning their rich relative in the south of England. She couldn’t have forgotten about him – or had she wanted to forget? And oh God, if John Moore turned out to be her father… that would be such a huge lie… the biggest lie in the world. Nina pushed the thought away.
She lifted the newspaper from behind the front door and stood leafing through it. The death announcement should be in today, yes, here it was. ‘Peacefully, at St Michael’s Hospice on Wednesday, 12th July… John Robert Moore… Relatives and friends are respectfully requested to contact the family in Bedford about funeral arrangements.’
Unconventional, but it was what they needed in the circumstances. It would be interesting to see what kind of response they had. Mind you, unless people were very quick off the mark with their questions all she’d be able to tell them was that the cremation had already taken place. It was to be that morning, and Nina wasn’t going to attend. She would think up some other remembering-family ritual for her and Naomi to do together, something special for Claire, Grandma Lily and Grandpa Bill that didn’t quite leave out John Moore. She wasn’t going to make this into something more important than it was; it would be insincere to pretend that John Moore had meant something to her. But – oh God, if he was her father...
‘What’s for breakfast?’ Naomi was standing in the doorway, dressed in jeans and a rather grubby pullover.
Nina smiled. Supermum was allowed to use bribery, wasn’t she? ‘Just toast, but we’ll go into town later and have lunch – you can choose a place. The sales are on, we might find you something nice to wear.’
The landline rang while Nina was spooning coffee into the machine, and Naomi ran to answer it.
‘Mum! It’s that lawyer!’ she yelled, and Nina raised her eyes heavenwards. Tact wasn’t Naomi’s strong point.
Sam was chuckling when she lifted the phone. ‘I’ve been called many things, but ‘that lawyer’ isn’t one of them. Is she okay?’
‘She’s fine, but she’s spitting nails about her missed trek. Is there any news?’
‘No. I called to say I’ll phone the crematorium this morning and organise about the ashes. Do you want them scattered in the garden of remembrance there?’
‘Yes. Thanks.’ Nina felt guilty. Should she be doing more with John Moore’s ashes? If he did turn out to be her father, and if the accusations made in the anonymous letter were false, she might regret leaving everything to Sam. But then, if John Moore had cared what happened to his ashes he would have left instructions.
‘I’ll come by late afternoon to let you know what they say.’
Surprised, Nina agreed, and sat nursing another cup of coffee while Naomi finished her third piece of toast then ran upstairs to reorganise her things in John Moore’s chest of drawers. Nina mulled over her coffee. It was hard to see why Sam wasn’t just planning to phone and tell her what he’d arranged for the ashes. She couldn’t shake off the feeling he wanted more contact than she did. Oh yes, she liked him, and she knew that if life had been less messy and distressing she might well have felt differently about his dinner invitations. But a death in the family – or two deaths, as John Moore was family too – plus a grieving daughter, plus a big mess here – it was all too much. She needed Naomi and she needed to find peace before she could think about anything else – and she needed Sam to respect that.
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