‘Tea would be good, thank you.’
Rather than sitting, he prowled around the kitchen, picking up and putting down the ornaments and mementos my mother had collected over the years: seashells from various beaches, a smooth stone from a river, a pottery elephant my father had bought her in Arundel because she’d admired it. This strange man picked up each and peered at it suspiciously.
‘Here you go,’ I said, putting a mug of tea on the table and positioning a jug of milk within reach. I waited till he’d sat and added milk to his tea before speaking again. ‘Alan Burton, you are I assume related to Olivia.’
He took a miniscule sip of the hot tea before nodding. ‘Yes, she’s’ – he shook his head and stuck out his lower lip – ‘I can’t get my head around saying was as yet. But yes, Olivia was my sister.’
I raced to find my place in the script. ‘Was? I’m sorry, I don’t understand.’
He sighed. ‘Ah yes, I’m sorry, of course you don’t know yet. I was speaking with her solicitor yesterday afternoon. I’m sure he’ll contact you today and I’m sorry I rushed the gun it’s just…’ His already heavily line faced creased even further and I thought he was going to cry.
‘Olivia is dead?’
‘Yes.’
‘I’m sorry for your loss. I never met her, of course, I didn’t know she existed till recently.’ I let my breath out in a trembling sigh. ‘You’re obviously aware that she was never legally married to my father.’
‘Yes. Livvy rang me when she found out. She was distraught about his death and stunned to find out the lie they’d been living. I met him a few times. Such a charming man, so full of life, funny and kind. Livvy adored him. I still can’t believe it was all a lie.’
‘It came as a shock to us too. My mother was particularly affected by it.’ He didn’t ask where she was, perhaps the solicitor had told him. ‘It was obviously too much for Olivia too.’
He took a gulp of the tea and wiped a hand over his mouth. ‘No, you don’t understand! She didn’t kill herself; she was murdered. A burglary. It was in the papers; I’m surprised you didn’t see it.’
I held my hand over my mouth and widened my eyes. ‘Oh no! That was her? A neighbour spoke about a woman being killed during a burglary recently, I didn’t see the article though so never saw the name.’ It was nice to be able to tell the truth for a change.
‘It was a shock. I was her only living relative which is why I went to see the solicitor yesterday.’
To see what he was going to inherit. I guessed this was where the real shock lay for him. He’d have assumed the house was hers after the death of her husband. What a come down it must have been to discover he was to get diddly. There was nothing for me to say, so I waited.
‘Mr Brooks told me Olivia had a life interest in the house which now reverts to your mother.’ His smile was wolfish. ‘And to you, of course.’
I didn’t think a reply was necessary and merely nodded.
‘I gathered from him that your mother isn’t expected to make a full recovery though,’ he said, assuming an expression of fake concern. ‘That must be so hard on you. Only sixteen and to be alone in the world.’
I can’t believe the very careful solicitor had been so free with information. It looked to me as if Alan Burton had gone to a great deal of trouble to find out the details of my situation. I just wasn’t quite clear why. Not yet anyway. But I wasn’t kept in ignorance for long.
He put his empty mug down. ‘It’s strange, but I feel we are related in a funny kind of way.’
‘Really?’ What was this strange, and increasingly creepy little man up to?
‘Yes, it’s like you’re my niece.’ He smiled in what I supposed he hoped was an avuncular manner.
I decided to play along, see where he was going with this. ‘I don’t have any relatives. An uncle might be nice.’ When he grabbed my hand with his smooth clammy one, I had to stop myself pulling mine away with a snort of disgust.
‘We could be good for each other,’ he said, ‘get ourselves through this bad period. Plus, I could help you with the finances. Save you whatever astronomical fees Brooks would charge.’
He looked at me expectantly. Did he expect me to jump up and throw my arms around him in gratitude at being rescued?
‘I’m going to make more tea,’ I said, getting to my feet abruptly. I took both mugs back and emptied the dregs into the sink. As the kettle came to a boil, I stared at the knives sticking from the block. The biggest was gone. Sitting in some police station as evidence. But there were a couple as sharp and almost as long. It would be easy to take one out, keep it concealed till I brought over the tea and used it to silence the toad-like man forever.
Two things stopped me. First – I’d killed two people and so far had managed to escape detection. I might not be so lucky next time, and prison was not on the list of places I wanted to visit. The second, and probably the more important deterrent – both my killings had been a means to an end. Killing Jemma had stopped the hideous bullying; killing Olivia had secured my mother’s future. Alan Burton was a creepy little toad but if I killed him – if I started down that road of killing without real reason, of killing everyone who pissed me off, wouldn’t that make me a monster?
Or was I fooling myself – was I already one? The thought made me shiver and I shut my eyes, blocking those tempting knives from view.
‘Here you go,’ I said, a minute later, putting a fresh mug of tea in front of him. I waited until he’d taken a mouthful before saying quietly, ‘When you’re finished, I want you to go away, and I never want to see you again. Okay?’
He sputtered and coughed, sending tea in a spray across the table. ‘What?’
Perhaps my quiet restrained delivery had failed to get the message across. ‘You heard me, you money-grabbing leech. Finish your tea, get out, and don’t come back.’
He didn’t wait, standing and backing from the kitchen with his mouth agape as if the sixteen-year-old pushover he’d assumed I was, had become rabid and turned on him, snapping and snarling.
So he escaped. Alive. But he’d made me face the truth about myself – maybe I wasn’t a monster, but I had something monstrous buried inside.
Alan Burton was lucky she hadn’t wriggled out to introduce herself to him.
17
Jason Brooks, our solicitor, contacted me later that day to break the sad news about Olivia. I didn’t mention her brother had been to visit. Since I’d made my position clear, it was unlikely he’d tell the solicitor.
‘Sometimes,’ Brooks said once he’d finished, ‘bad news can have pleasant repercussions and so it is in this case. With Ms Burton’s demise, her life interest reverts to your father’s estate.’
‘Okay.’ I was relieved to hear not the slightest suspicion in the solicitor’s voice at this conveniently great news for me and my mother. I had to play it carefully though, maybe pretend to be a lot dimmer than I was. ‘I’m not sure what that means for us though?’
‘It simply means that the house Ms Burton lived in now belongs to your mother. It can be sold, I can handle the legalities for that, acting in her best interest. The money can be used to pay the arrears on the mortgage, your mother’s clinic bill and provide for any care she might need in the future.’