The Keeper of Lost Things(69)
“Are you sure?” Eunice asked. She had been hoping for something a little more jolly, for her own sake and for his, after what they had just witnessed. Bomber was adamant. As they watched the patients at the state mental hospital walking in the chain-link-fenced exercise yard, Bomber pointed at the screen and winked at her.
“That’s us,” he said.
Eunice looked into his eyes and was shocked to see the clarity reflected back at her. This was the Bomber of old speaking; sharp, funny, bright, and back for a rare visit. But for how long? Even the briefest visit was precious, but heartbreaking. Heartbreaking because he must know that he would have to go back. And to what?
It was a film that they had watched many times before, but this time it was very different.
As the Chief placed the pillow over Mac’s pitifully vacant face and tenderly suffocated him, Bomber gripped Eunice’s hand and spoke his final three words.
“Get. Me. Out.”
He was calling in her promise. Eunice stared at the screen and held on tight to Bomber’s hand as the giant Chief wrenched the marble water cooler from the tub room floor, hurled it through the massive windows, and then loped off toward the breaking dawn and freedom. As the credits rolled, Eunice couldn’t move. Bomber took her other hand in his. His eyes were full of tears, but he was smiling as he nodded and mouthed silently at her:
“Please.”
Before Eunice could say anything, one of the nurses burst in without knocking.
“Time for your medication.” She bustled, rattling the keys to the medicine cabinet on the wall. She unlocked it and was just reaching for the tablets when there was a terrified scream from the corridor outside followed by Eulalia’s unmistakable cackle.
“That damn woman!” cursed the nurse, rushing to the door to investigate and leaving the cabinet unlocked.
It was time for Eunice to go. She must leave, but until she did she still had Bomber, and so she couldn’t bear to go. But every minute was just a marker between now and then, not time to be cherished. Because the decision had been made. Eunice knew that there would only be one chance; one moment when all the love she had ever felt for this man would crystallize into the inconceivable strength that she would need. It was time. The imprint of the key was embedded into the flesh of her palm where she had gripped it so tightly. Eunice unlocked the windows and opened them, leaving them just ajar. She wanted so desperately to hug him one last time; to hold his warmth and feel him breathing against her. But she knew that if she did, her strength would desert her, so instead she placed the key in his hand and kissed his cheek.
“I’m not going without you, Bomber,” she whispered. “I wouldn’t leave you this way. You’re coming with me. Let’s go.”
And then she left.
CHAPTER 45
ELDERLY MALE IN DEATH FALL AT CARE HOME
Police are investigating the death of an elderly male resident of the Happy Haven care home in Blackheath who fell from a second-floor balcony early on Saturday evening. The man, who has not yet been named, was suffering from Alzheimer’s and is believed to have been a retired publisher. A postmortem is due to be carried out later this week and police inquiries into what they are calling “an unexplained death” are ongoing.
THE LONDON EVENING STANDARD
CHAPTER 46
“There’s a dead person in the study,” Sunshine announced in a conversational tone. She had come to find Laura, who was in the garden cutting roses for the house, to tell her this piece of news and to chivvy her along into making lunch. Carrot was lolling lazily on his back in the sun, with his legs in the air, but as Sunshine approached he jumped up to greet her.
It had been a year now since the website had launched and it kept both Laura and Sunshine busy. Sunshine had learned how to take photographs and post them and the details of objects onto the website, and Freddy had even shown her how to run a Keeper of Lost Things Instagram account. Laura dealt with the e-mails. They were still working their way through Anthony’s collection, as well as adding the new things that Sunshine gathered on her walks with Carrot. Laura and Freddy had also got into the habit of picking up things they found wherever they went, and now people had begun to send them lost items as well. At this rate the shelves in the study would always be groaning.
“A dead person? Are you sure?”
Sunshine gave her one of her looks. Laura went inside to investigate. In the study, Sunshine showed her a sky-blue Huntley & Palmers biscuit tin. Its label read:
HUNTLEY & PALMERS BISCUIT TIN CONTAINING CREMATION REMAINS?—
Found, sixth carriage from the front, 14:42 train from London Bridge to Brighton. Deceased unknown. God bless and rest in peace.
Lupin and Bootle funeral directors (est. 1927) was on the corner of a busy street opposite a fancy bakery. As she stood outside, Eunice smiled to herself, remembering Mrs. Doyle’s and thinking that this was an appropriate place for Bomber to end up. He had been dead for six weeks now, and Eunice still hadn’t been to his funeral. The coroner had eventually returned a verdict of accidental death, but the staff at Happy Haven had been severely criticized for their cavalier approach to health and safety procedures and had only narrowly escaped prosecution. Portia had wanted Sylvia’s head in a bedpan. She had been mourning extravagantly all over the press and the media, but Eunice couldn’t help wondering whether it was fueled by genuine grief or the associated publicity it was bound to generate for her forthcoming book tour. Portia was too famous to talk to Eunice directly now. She had assistants for that kind of trivial task. Which was why Eunice found herself staring through an immaculate plate-glass window at a scale model of a horse-drawn hearse and a tasteful display of arum lilies. The only information she had been able to extract from the lowliest assistant twice removed, was the name of the funeral directors who were dealing with all inquiries. She could have telephoned, but the temptation to be in the same building as Bomber was too great.