Page 127 of Worse Than Murder
‘Alison, sorry for calling so late.’
‘It’s fine,’ she says. There are tears in her voice. She’s been crying.
‘Is everything all right?’
She sighs. ‘Yes. I’m… I’m fine. What can I do for you?’
It’s like I’m talking to a younger version of myself.
‘I’ve been able to get the preliminary postmortem results on your sisters. They’ve managed to identify them through dental records. It seems Jennifer had a broken bone in her arm that didn’t heal correctly. Your mother was asked, and she said she didn’t know anything about your sister ever breaking a bone. I find that hard to believe unless it was covered up in some way. Is there…’
‘Ah. I think I can fill in the gap there,’ Alison said. ‘It happened about a month or so before they disappeared. We were out playing one Sunday on the farm. There was an old coal bunker we were told never to go in. To mischievous children, that’s like an invitation. So, obviously, we went in. Jennifer slipped and fell. She cracked her arm on the concrete floor. We all agreed not to say anything because we knew how much shit we’d be in. I didn’t realise her arm was broken. I thought she’d just hurt it.’
‘Right.’
‘You thought she’d broken it while being abused or something?’
‘It had crossed my mind.’
‘We were adventurous when we were all together. We loved making up stories and going on imaginary hunts for treasure. Jennifer had such a…’ She pauses as she composes herself. ‘She was an excellent storyteller.’
I sit down on the edge of the bed. ‘I’m so sorry for what you’re going through, Alison.’
‘It never goes away,’ she says. ‘I can be on a night out celebrating a friend’s birthday, and I’m laughing and having fun, and all of a sudden a voice in my head will ask me what Jennifer or Celia would be doing right now, if they were still alive, and it floors me.’
I don’t know what to say. Alison is looking for answers, for reassurance, and I can’t give them to her. I make some excuse about it being late and end the call.
There is no doubt in my mind I’ll be able to find out what happened to Jennifer and Celia. I know I can solve this. I’m only worried about the effect it will have on Alison when she learns the truth.
* * *
By the time we descend the steps to the cellar, Philip, Sally, Carl and the two Labradors, are waiting for us. Carl, dressed in jeans and an oversized jumper and wearing safety glasses, has a huge smile on his face.
‘About bloody time,’ Carl says.
‘Language!’ Sally chastises.
‘This feels like the unveiling of something. I’m expecting a Lord Mayor to come down the stairs to cut a ribbon,’ Adele says.
‘I’m nervous,’ Sally says. ‘I’ve seenThe Mummy. I know what happens when you disturb something that’s not meant to be disturbed.’ Her eyes are constantly gazing about the room, looking for anything scurrying along the ground.
‘Are you worried Philip is going to unleash thousands of years of bad luck and pestilence?’ I ask.
‘Considering everything we’ve all been through recently, including a sodding pandemic, I wouldn’t be surprised.’
‘Language!’ Carl mocks. ‘It might be the entrance to a secret underground tomb,’ he says excitedly.
Sally shivers. ‘I’m picturing those beetles inThe Mummythat get inside your skin.’
‘Really?’ Adele asks. ‘I’m picturing Kenneth Williams inCarry On Screaminghowling “Frying tonight!”’
Sally laughs. ‘I love that film.’
Philip exaggerates a cough. ‘Is there any chance we can begin? I do plan on retiring in the next twenty years.’
‘In this economy? You’ll be lucky,’ I fire back.
‘Sorry, Phil. You begin. We’ll stay back here and point out where you’re going wrong.’ Sally winks.
