Page 39 of Coming Home
She could do it. She’d been faking it for months, living a lie and now she had a reprieve, a breathing space to think things through, come up with another plan. As she drove towards home her heart rate began to settle while her mind refused to rest, keeping up a frantic pace, going over and over what had happened.
Okay, so she could push one problem to the back of the queue but another remained, stood firm, stubbornly refusing to budge until it had been heard. Rosina had one hell of a dilemma on her hands. How could she expose a hit-and-run killer without exposing herself? Telling the truth, pointing the finger at a man who was part of her family, a man who had behaved in such a callous way and left another for dead?
Rosina couldn’t let someone she loved live a lie; she knew how that felt and no way could she bear another burden, keep another secret. But she might have to, to save herself. What the hell was she going to do?
19
Carmen
Appleton Farm, Cheshire
Present day
Lifting the lid of the pan, Carmen gave the curry another stir then covered it again, smiling at Mitzi who sniffed at the aroma of cardamom and star anise, two amongst an array of Indian spices that had all gone into Bern’s favourite curry.
Moving over to the table she occupied herself with kneading the naan bread, no coriander. Bern hated it and said it tasted like soap. He would be there anytime and she was looking forward to spending an evening at the kitchen table, eating a meal, listening to the radio. Maybe later they would play cards in the lounge or read by the fire. That was her favourite thing to do, relax with a glass of wine, a good book and one of her favourite operas playing softly in the background. Especially when she looked up and Bern was there too.
It wasn’t as though it was a new thing, him spending the night, and soon they’d be together every evening, and morning. However, his imminent permanency lit up her heart, and that made her want it even more. She had never really been alone in the house because even after Rosina and Violetta moved out, she always had her mum and Leonora for company and more often than not, one or more of the grandchildren for a sleepover. That was why she’d never felt that having a man in the house was a necessity, or the lack of one a loss. It was how it was. Her and Bern rumbling along for years.
The girls, even Violetta who had for so long clung to a false image of her dad, treated Bern like a stepfather. He was part of the family, a kind, funny bear of a man who had always been there for them. He’d taught the girls to drive, round and round the garden centre car park when it was closed, doing three-point turns and emergency stops, chugging up and down the lane practising gear changes or in Leonora’s case, kangarooing back and forth, giving Bern whiplash.
Sometimes, things had a way of coming together and even though they both prided themselves on being self-sufficient, valuing their own space, it had been during lockdown that suddenly that space became too wide. When you really needed the security of someone’s arms, a hug, normality, it had been snatched away, prohibited.
To know that Bern was a short walk away and alone in his house was heartbreaking, frustrating too. And as much as the temptation to sneak over there and break the rules was overwhelming, that terrible fear of infecting someone you loved, spreading a germ around your family had, quite frankly, terrified Carmen. The nights she had lain in bed and tormented herself with scenarios mirroring the ones she’d seen on the news reduced her to tears. In the end she’d stopped watching, unable to bear seeing the daily stats and hearing the sombre tone of the newsreader.
And that was another reason why she and Bern were throwing caution to the wind and living for the moment because never again, whatever the world threw at them, would they endure it in separate homes even if they did end up driving each other round the bend. She’d rather go mad with Bern than rattle around a huge house alone.
Covering the naan with a tea towel she left them to prove and not wanting to dwell further, banished thoughts of the past and focused on what was going on in the here and now.
Checking the clock on the mantel she gave a tut.Where is he?
Going over to the window she peered out into the wintery night. Nothing, just the fairy lights in the garden and in the distance the soft glow from the lamp post that marked the entrance to Appleton. No sign of headlights coming along the lane to the house. Carmen hoped one set would belong to Leonora’s car and that she’d changed her mind about staying out.
Needing a few minutes to rest her feet she turned towards her armchair that was nestled in the corner by the chimney breast, giving Arthur’s ears a tickle before scooping up Petra and plonking her on her knee. The other two never seemed to mind that the little dachshund was the attention-seeker of the tribe. They were best friends and inseparable yet each had their own quirky ways.
At night the three dogs always slept together, snuggled in a giant basket that stood between the armchair and the Aga although during the day, Mitzi preferred the battered sofa which she regarded as hers. Humans had no place there. Arthur liked to stretch, usually upside down in his basket, making the most of his space. Petra was the lapdog and loved a cuddle so as always, Carmen was happy to indulge her.
Stroking the soft fur of her dachshund while Mitzi and Arthur snored, warmed by the oven that was baking bhajis, Carmen looked at her dogs one by one and smiled. They were just like humans, all of them had their own personalities, foibles and yes, they all liked their space. A bit like her three daughters who, it had to be said, were acting peculiar of late. Maybe she’d been so busy with her Christmas arrangements that she’d not noticed but now she thought about it, each of them seemed preoccupied.
It really had been a funny old day. For a start, Leonora had gone AWOL. She knew Carmen was making curry and was looking forward to relaxing after a long week – she’d said so that morning in a text. It was sent at 5.45am, probably before she started her early shift.
Can’t wait for curry night. Going shopping after work. Looking forward to a big chill. I’m shattered. Should see you about six. Love you x
Leonora would probably invite Caspar but as always, Carmen secretly hoped he wouldn’t turn up. Yes, it was wrong that she pretended to like him but she’d had to put up with her mum tutting and finding fault with everything about Sebastian. So she’d tried hard to break the mould and go with the flow where her daughter’s choice of partner was concerned.
Carmen had never admitted it but she actually agreed with her mum’s erudite summation of Caspar and sometimes wondered what Leonora saw in him. Yes, he was extremely handsome, a bit gangly, like a thoroughbred horse, all over the place, unable to rest, shiny coat, immaculately groomed, fast out of the gate, driven, determined to finish first.
Her mum had repeatedly warned her to watch him, saying he was after getting his feet under the table at the garden centre. Carmen suspected the same but that was never going to happen. That business was hers, and for the girls and Caspar was in for a rude awakening if he thought he could manoeuvre himself into position once he married Leonora.
Something was definitely up though. She’d been disappointed when Leonora texted again that afternoon to say she wouldn’t be home for dinner and was staying in town with a friend.
Sorry Mum. Change of plan. Been invited out by some friends from work. Last-minute Crimbo knees-up. Will stay over. Please save me LOTS of curry. I’ll text you in the morning.
Love you x
Carmen didn’t think anything of it because Leonora had stayed with friends loads of times and gone straight to work. However, when she heard the roar of an engine racing up the drive and stones scattering when it screeched to a halt, then the doorbell ringing like there was an emergency, her own alarm bells rang. Opening the door to Caspar she was about to tell him off for driving so fast when he beat her to it.
‘Is Leonora here?’
