Lying in Wait(86)

‘That was my husband’s. A 1957 Jaguar Sedan. God knows, he poured so much money into keeping it on the road for Laurence.’

‘For Laurence?’

‘Oh yes, Laurence begged Andrew to teach him to drive when he was seventeen years old. Laurence was absolutely obsessed by that old car. They had terrible rows about it. Laurence didn’t even have a driving licence at the time. Didn’t he tell you about it? One day, after Andrew died, he sold it, just like that, as if it had never mattered. I should warn you, Laurence is adorable but he does have his peculiarities!’ She grinned at me. ‘If you could have seen him, driving around in that car wearing his grandfather’s old hat. Hilarious!’

I had only had a glass of wine after my gin and tonic, but I felt hot and cold and confused and sick. Lydia noticed.

‘Are you all right, dear? You are very pale. Shall I fetch you a glass of water?’

These things are perfectly normal, I told myself. Of course Laurence would never have told me that he had driven that car or worn a hat like that. He knew it would have upset me. I regained my composure. Lydia returned with a glass of water and a cardboard box.

‘Here you are, drink up, you poor thing. Are you sure you’re all right?’

‘I’m fine. Just a passing headache, thank you.’

‘By the way, I found this stuff in an old hidey hole in Laurence’s bedroom. It’s probably just old junk, but he may want to take it to the cottage.’ She placed the box on my lap and exited the room again to fill the coal scuttle.

There were photographs face downwards, and I gingerly turned them over to find that they were photographs of me. I felt better. I shouldn’t have, but I delved into the box again and found pictures of me cut from magazines, and then underneath there were yellowing newspaper cuttings. I lifted them out and opened them up. They were dizzily familiar. The cuttings were dated November and December 1980. All of the reports about my sister’s disappearance. Laurence was certainly dedicated in his search. But then I stopped and thought how could he have got these? I’d only met him last year. It didn’t make sense. There was something else. A matchbox wrapped in tissue paper. My hands shook as I pulled it open, all regard for Laurence’s privacy gone.

I turned the broken identity bracelet over in my hands. The engraving was there: Marnie. One end of it was broken, but I could see that the clasp was stained crimson red where Annie had picked it up before her nail varnish had dried on the day I had given it to her.

I jumped up from my seat, knocking the items on to the floor. I tried to rationalize all the thoughts that were zooming around my head, but there was no way Laurence could have got that bracelet from anyone except Annie. He had the car; he had the hat, the bracelet; he had cut out newspaper reports about her. The cogs turned in my head as Lydia returned, but I couldn’t hear what she was saying, couldn’t believe all the evidence that surrounded me. I tried to remember how he had come into our lives, Dad telling me that this guy in the dole office had taken special care of him, long before I met Laurence. He hadn’t written the Annie letters to comfort us, but to throw us off track.

Annie’s killer wasn’t dead. Laurence killed her. Laurence killed my sister. I ran, pushing past Lydia, ran for the front door, down the driveway to the gate. As I reached the gate, Laurence drove in. I stopped dead in my tracks.

‘Where are you going? What’s happened? Are you OK?’

And then I began to run again, as fast as I could. He jumped out of the car, calling after me, and then he began to run too, but he was still quite heavy and I outran him. I ran and ran until he was out of sight, and then I ducked into the nearest phone box and dialled 999.





26


Lydia


Laurence threw me across the room. I never knew he had such a temper. Though I suppose he must have inherited it from Andrew.

He came storming into the house, winded and red in the face. I had cleaned up the spillings of the box and put them away, together with the photo album.

‘What did you do? What did you say to her?’

‘I should warn you, Laurence, that you are probably going to be arrested very soon.’

‘What? What are you talking about? Karen is terrified! She ran away from me. What happened?’

‘You should not have betrayed me. I gave you every opportunity to come home, and still you chose that tart’s sister over me.’

He was apoplectic, and through gritted teeth he snarled at me, ‘What did you say to her?’

‘I didn’t say anything directly, but I presented her with the evidence.’

‘What evidence?’

‘The evidence that you murdered her sister.’

‘You … but it was Dad … and you.’ He shook his head. ‘You wouldn’t do that. That doesn’t even make sense. She would never believe that.’

‘You killed Annie Doyle. I have tried to protect you, but I cannot stand by you any longer.’

‘Oh my God, you are more insane than ever!’

‘It’s all here. Karen has seen all the evidence.’

‘Why are you being like this? What twisted game are you playing now?’

‘It’s not a game. Motherhood was never a game. You rejected me. Even though you knew how much that hurt me. You chose her over me. I can do what I want with you, and now I choose to send you to jail.’