The Full Legacy Page 10

  Turner listened quietly, resting her hand on mine. Her eyes flickered over my face when I’d finished.

  ‘Corinne must have been very special,’ she said, ‘for you both to love her so much.’

  ‘I don’t know,’ I stopped, feeling my throat tighten. ‘I thought I could save her with my love I guess.... I can see now how stupid that must sound.’

  ‘I don’t think it’s stupid to love someone.’

  ‘It’s stupid if they’ve fallen out of love with you.’

  ‘And is that what had happened?’

  Was it?’ I still don’t know really, even after all those years.

  ‘I have absolutely no idea,’ I admitted. ‘It was impossible to know what was going on with her really. She was very... attentive... very good at making people feel important.’

  Just like Turner, I thought, seeing myself as I imagined these women saw me; gullible and a bit desperate. I tried to pretend I wasn’t feeling that and carried on with my story.

  ‘She was just rebelling against the world. She’d had such a claustrophobic upbringing. It was very strict and very traditional, but there was a real sense of community, I think – a real sense of belonging, if only you could stick to their rules. She tried to do everything to fit in when she was a kid and then, she hit adolescence, and she just couldn’t do it anymore. Her family wouldn’t accept her, so she rejected them and everything they stood for. Deep down she thought she was heading straight to hell in a bucket. She was terrified. And the more frightened she got, the more exciting it all became, and the more she got hooked on the excitement, the more she tempted fate. She used to do these crazy things...’ I faltered, remembering the séance - how it was Corinne who suggested it, even though she’d been much more scared than I was at the idea. I shook the memory away. ‘It all just caught up with her in the end, I guess. That kind of thing always does.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’ Turner’s eyes were kind. I felt myself falling deeper. ‘Come home with me tonight,’ she said.

  ‘What about Adam?’

  ‘Adam’s working away.’

  She took my hand and led me to the next phase.

  On the Tube, we watched our reflections superimposed on acres of darkness as we moved into the night.

  There were plenty of other people about. A huge spiky-haired man beside me was eating a burger from McDonald’s. The smell of onion and chargrilled meat grappled with Eternity from the blonde in the corner. The doors, opening at Oxford Street, let in a waft of acoustic guitar from the concourse beyond the platform. A dreadlocked baby snoozed in her mother’s arms as we got off the train to change onto the Bakerloo Line.

  I asked Turner about her husband.

  ‘I met him at University,’ she said. ‘He was in my tutorial group and he was the star of the show - Blond, athletic, straight ‘A’s all the way. I didn’t like him at first. He was very arrogant, but he fascinated me. Our first date was quite typical. He took me to see ‘The Hunger’, and lectured me on Nietzsche in the pub afterwards. Then he bought a shed load of coke from a dealer, told me how he’d like to end the evening and asked me if I was interested. If I wasn’t, he said, he’d say goodnight and find somebody who was. It wasn’t a game. I could tell he really didn’t care either way... That’s what hooked me, I suppose. Nobody had ever been that dispassionate about me before. I felt completely inconsequential to him. It was like not being anybody... just free floating. It felt very liberating at first. But, you know, it palls after a while. Eventually, I reckon, there aren’t many people who can survive without a little warmth in their life.’

  She sounded so flat about it. I didn’t even feel shocked – just puzzled rather, as to why she would choose that.

  ‘But you married him,’ I said.

  ‘Yes,’ she sighed. ‘I did, didn’t I?’

  She was getting up. ‘We’re here,’ she said. ‘Come on.’

  She lived near Regent’s Park and she had the lot... Bang and Olufsen hi-fi; watercolours by Maggi Hambling. Floor to ceiling windows with views over London that Ros would probably have been prepared to sell her granny for.

  ‘You shouldn’t be risking this for me,’ I said.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she replied. ‘But I’m not.’

  She went to make coffee and I sat down on the sofa, sinking into the soft cream luxury of it, wondering if I should actually have followed her into the kitchen and offered to help.

  ‘I’ve wanted you all week,’ she said when she came back.

  ‘Oh?’ I wasn’t used to people being so forward. I didn’t know what to say.

  She ran her fingers through my hair. ‘I’ve tried all kinds of things to take my mind off it, but they haven’t helped.’

  ‘Oh?’ The vaguely suggestive words conjured an image I tried to push from my mind but it lingered as she ran her hand down my cheek.

  I tried to balance my mounting passion with the coffee mug in my left hand. Then she kissed me and I tipped coffee down myself... leaping to my feet just quickly enough to prevent it dribbling onto the sofa.

  ‘SHIT!’ I felt the hot liquid soaking through my T-shirt and into the skin just below my ribs. ‘BUGGER!’ I cursed again, trying to hold the thin cotton material away from me. ‘I’m so sorry, have you got a cloth.’

  Turner was watching me, amused, her eyes narrowed. ‘Why don’t you just take it off?’ she suggested.

  She was taking my drink away from me, putting it on a small side table where it was safely out of reach. Then she turned to catch hold of the bottom of my T-shirt and pulled it over my head.

  ‘Off!’ she said. ‘Everything!’

  I felt so clumsy and stupid and small. I also felt like she was playing with me. In a funny kind of way though, I liked it and I certainly didn’t want her to stop.

  She pushed me back onto the sofa and knelt over me to unbutton her blouse. Then she was kissing me. I felt like I was drowning. I struggled up for air and she laughed.

  ‘Drink your coffee,’ she said. ‘I’ll put some music on.’

  She wandered across to the hi-fi and pressed some button or other. It sprang into sound and I instantly recognised Gabrielle’s ‘Dreams’ throbbing from the speakers, the Tracy Chapman riff never so erotically charged.

  On her way back to the sofa, she dropped her pants, easing herself on top of me.

  ‘You do want me, don’t you?’ Her skin was like silk against mine.

  ‘Yes,’ I said, muffled through her kisses.

  ‘I can’t hear you.’

  ‘YES!’ I said louder, suddenly wanting her so badly I felt like I might die from it.

  The music was loud. My heart was pounding. And I imagine he had been deliberately quiet.

  So I don’t know how long he’d been there – Adam, presumably; ice-cold angry, standing silently – watching. I saw him when he moved forward and his shadow fell over us.

  There didn’t seem to be much point in removing myself from his wife. She’d clamped her hand down over mine anyway... whether to conceal or to contain me, I don’t know.

  We were both frozen in shock.

  Adam, on the other hand, seemed totally in control. He was a tall man, golden-haired and blue-eyed. He wore a sports jacket in mulberry with black 501’s. When he spoke, his public school accent was unmistakable.

  ‘Nice try,’ he said to his wife, in a tone of such utter contempt it made my blood run cold. ‘If it had been the other one I might have been interested.’

  Turner flinched. Then visibly, she collected herself.

  I took the opportunity to reclaim my hand.

  ‘What the hell are you doing here?’ she demanded.

  ‘Finding out why I’ve been receiving phone calls all week about my wife’s conduct.’

  Turner looked mystified. I could see the shock absorbed in the muscles of her jaw.

  ‘Somebody phoned about this?’

  ‘Yes, my darling, somebody phoned.’

  I saw how much it cost her not to flinch away from his ven
om. On the surface though, she just grew colder. ‘Well, now you know,’ she shrugged.

  ‘Indeed!’ He turned his attention to me.

  ‘You,’ he said. ‘Get out of my house.’

  My blood ran cold. I didn’t want to leave Turner alone to face this.

  ‘MOVE!’ he yelled.

  I moved, and she moved with me, studiously defying him.

  ‘I’ll drive you home,’ she said.

  She smoothed her skirt down as she stood up then shoved past him to go through to the bedroom, returning a few moments later in a T-shirt and jeans. I’d dressed under his icy gaze and I was feeling humiliated all over again by the coffee stain... like a kid who couldn’t eat her tea without spilling it.

  I was shaking as Turner took my hand.

  ‘Come on sweetheart,’ she murmured. ‘It’s okay.’

  She kissed me on the cheek and I thought he was going to explode.

  ‘And actually,’ she said to him as he stepped back to let us out of the door. ‘Just for the record... This is my house.... remember?’

  I sensed the anger lurching within him, like a yard dog tugging at its chain.

  I followed her out to the car, under shelter in the courtyard behind the flat.

  ‘You can’t go back there,’ I said. ‘He’ll kill you.’

  ‘He wouldn’t dare.’ Her jaw was clenched as she started up the engine. The faintest flicker of anger ran up her cheek. ‘I bet that bloody woman who lives with Suzanne is responsible for this,’ she muttered. I noticed the whiteness of her knuckles as she gripped the steering wheel, much too tight.

  My teeth were chattering, and not because I was cold. ‘Mary would never do anything like that.’ I said, desperate to defend her. Though I knew that people did all sorts of weird things when they were hurt, so maybe she would. ‘Please,’ I tried again. ‘Please don’t go back there. Stay at my place tonight.’

  I knew it was useless. I stared gloomily at the grey sweep of the road ahead.

  Turner’s anger scared me. I tried to imagine what it must be like to be in this situation. She was so very cool always – so self contained. I couldn’t imagine her ever forgetting tonight’s embarrassment, or forgiving anyone responsible for it. Once she’d really had chance to think about it, I feared, she was just going to want to blot it all, including me, out of her life.

  I kissed her goodbye outside my house, terrified that I’d never see her again.

  When I got in, Ros and Kay were sprawled on the sofa in the lounge watching ‘Desert Hearts’ on video. I hadn’t known that Ros was going to be there, but I guess I got in the way of her making a move on Kay. Certainly she shifted her arm quickly from the back of the sofa when she saw me.

  She offered me a glass of wine but I clocked, just in time, that it was the same stuff she’d taken to Mary and Suzanne’s.

  ‘No,’ I said, ‘I’m fine. Don’t let me disturb you. I’m going straight up to bed.’

  Kay never was taken in by my pretending.

  ‘Is something wrong?’ she asked.

  ‘No – I think I just need an early night.’

  I saw her glance at Ros, who shrugged.

  ‘There’s a message on the answerphone from your mum,’ she said. ‘Something garbled about some side-kick of hers phoning her in a panic. She wants you to ring her.’

  ‘Okay... I’ll do that tomorrow.’

  ‘It sounded important.’

  ‘Oh, please Kay. I can’t be bothered... You know how she is.’

  I’d had a lifetime of my mother’s dramas and they were never important.

  I took the steps unsteadily, feeling the now familiar pounding in my head, the shadow hovering and whispering around me as I made for my room.

  ‘Nothing you do will stop it now.’

  I put my hands over my ears to try to shut out the voice, but it just got louder, along with the sound of my own heart beating. I knew there was nowhere to hide anymore. It was like it had been with Dad all over again. That long buried darkness seeping out, pooling around me, bringing something unspeakable into my life.

  Mary

  In my dreams I was on a fast moving road. Traffic roared past me, headlights glaring. I was drawn to the lights like a moth fluttering to its death in a candle flame. The place was strange. There were trees and a bridge, white against the night sky. And the shadowy figure I knew so well was watching... waiting in the night. I woke retching with terror, then lay, wide eyed, staring at the ceiling until dawn came and I could think about facing the day to come. I felt weak and sick with apprehension. I was desperately scared for Turner. I wanted to ring her, but felt too afraid of what she might say... too scared of the pain of losing her to dare to pick up the phone and dial.

  I forgot all about phoning Mum too.

  When Suzanne phoned, it threw me completely. I was at the studio, deep in the welcome distraction of setting up for a session.

  ‘Gill,’ she said. ‘Have you heard anything from Mary?’

  My stomach gave a scared little twist. ‘Mary? No... Why?’ I wondered if they’d had a row again... If she’d walked out.

  ‘I was round at my sister’s last night. When I got home just after midnight, she’d gone.’

  I started to feel cold again.

  ‘No,’ I said. ‘She hasn’t been in touch. Didn’t she leave a note, or a message or something?’

  ‘No, and she hasn’t showed up at work yet either.’ Suzanne’s voice continued, sounding scared, and feeding into my fear. ‘I found something though – She’s got Adam Shaw’s work number in her diary. And Gill, this is really weird. There’s part of a conversation taped on the answerphone. It does that if we take calls on the extension in the bedroom... It records the lot.’

  I half knew what was coming. I chewed the skin at the side of my nail and waited.

  ‘There’s Mary, answering the phone. And then... It’s someone saying they want to meet her.’

  She stopped. At the side of my nail, a tiny pinprick of blood appeared. I watched it grow and begin to trickle down my finger. I gulped back oceans of fear.

  ‘Who was it?’ I asked.

  ‘It was hard to tell. It was muffled.’

  ‘Yes, but you could tell, couldn’t you?’

  ‘I think so.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘Really – I can’t be sure.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘And I think it was Turner.’

  ‘SHIT!’

  My heart bounced up into my throat and fluttered there like a trapped bird.

  ‘What did she say?’ I asked.

  On the other end of the phone line, I heard Suzanne swallow.

  ‘Whoever it was just said that she knew Mary had been spreading malicious gossip and she’d like to talk to her... Could they meet somewhere neutral? Mary said she needed a pen to write the directions down. She must have switched the machine off when she went downstairs because that’s all there is.’

  I gulped for air. Remembering Turner’s anger last night, I flashed back to the way her hands had gripped the steering wheel, and I felt very frightened.

  ‘Maybe we should phone the police,’ I suggested, terrified that she’d say yes.

  ‘I’ll give her a bit longer – the nursery said they’d get her to ring me if she turns up there. It’s so unlike her not to even contact them, but maybe she’s just lying low somewhere, giving herself a bit of thinking space. You know how she’s been winding herself up lately. She’s not herself at all.’

  ‘Okay... Look, are you phoning from the office?’

  ‘Yeah.... I came into work. I didn’t know what else to do.... Maybe I should have stayed at home in case she comes back.’

  It was awful to hear her sounding so wobbly and unsure of herself. It made me feel guilty, though I couldn’t for the life of me think why.

  ‘Have you mentioned this to Turner?’

  ‘Not yet, I didn’t know how.’

  ‘Is she there now?’

  ‘No, she’s o
ut at a meeting with a client.’

  ‘Will she be in later?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Ask her to ring me will you?... When she gets in.’

  She didn’t ring. And then I had to leave the studio to get something to eat before night school. At home, later, ring-pulling a can of lager, I listened to my mother’s message.

  ‘Gilly darling, it’s Mum. Listen sweetheart. Betty rang just now.... Psychic Betty, that is. You know I was saying about what she’d said to me when I saw you last. Well she’s just rung again. She said she’s seen something terrible. She was in a dreadful state. Ring me, will you, as soon as you can?’

  My hair prickled to attention on my scalp. I reached for the phone. And then it rang...

  It was Kay.

  ‘I’m round at Suzanne’s,’ she said. ‘They’ve found Mary.’ Her voice was grim – lower than usual, as if all the muscles in her throat were constricted.

  My fingers tightened around the lager can. ‘Is she okay?’

  ‘No Gill, I’m sorry.’

  ‘No?’ I was shaking my head. It wasn’t possible. I was going numb, too shocked to take it in, just like I’d been when the police came to the door about Corinne all those years ago.

  ‘They found her last night, Gill, just after midnight, but she didn’t have any identification on her. A lorry hit her. She was on the M25.’

  I couldn’t bear it. Not Mary... I bit my lip in an attempt to feel something.

  ‘Gill, please come round.’

  I was dazed. ’Yeah,’ I said. ‘Yes – of course.’

  ‘Thanks.’ I could hear the relief in her voice. Maybe it helped just having somebody to share it with.

  Suzanne was in shock. Some well meaning doctor had pumped her full of Valium. She was in bed, glassy-eyed and staring into space. The curtains were pulled and the only light was the yellowy glow of the bedside lamp. I sat beside her and linked my fingers with hers. It felt weird to be in the bedroom she’d shared with Mary for all those years. I’d never had any cause to be there before. I was surprised to see some of my photographs, framed, on the wall.