Page 148 of Worse Than Murder
I turn to look at Tania. She’s staring straight at Lionel, but she doesn’t have the hard, embittered face of a newshound: she’s looking at him with love and affection. Lionel has been living with pain and torment for thirty years. He’s suffered in silence. Despite the fact he stole money from a dead man, he’s more than made up for it by protecting his daughter under the cruel iron fist of an evil manipulator.
‘Gill, can I have a word with you outside?’ I ask her.
‘Sure.’
We get up and leave. We walk down the steps and onto End Lane. The sun is high in the sky, not a cloud in sight. I turn and look to the sprawling view. This really is a beautiful village.
‘What did you want to talk to me about?’
I glance over my shoulder into Lionel’s living room, and I see him and Tania embracing. They pull apart and she kisses him softly on the lips.
‘It’s doesn’t matter,’ I say.
I’m not allowed to drive Adele’s Porsche anymore. I’m banned. We drive to the pyre that used to be Nature’s Diner. What meagre belongings that could be salvaged are in boxes and black bags and piled into the back of Philip’s car. He looks up at the charred building.
‘I don’t feel anything,’ he says to me as he turns his back on it. ‘It’s just bricks and mortar, isn’t it?’
‘I’ve always said home isn’t a building,’ Sally begins. ‘It’s the people inside it that make a home. When Carl was kidnapped, I realised then that the dream house we’d built wasn’t what I wanted. I’d have been happy living in a tent for the rest of my life as long as I had Carl with me.’
Carl is running around the grounds with both Woodys, allowing them to shake off any excess energy and empty their bladders. They have a long journey ahead of them.
They’re heading to Ireland where Sally’s sister, Beth, lives. She called her the day after the fire, once her voice had returned from the effects of smoke inhalation, and asked if they could come and visit for a few weeks while they decided what to do next. The next day, Beth called back and told her she knew of a catering school in Wicklow that was up for sale. It ran courses teaching adults the basic cookery skills. There was a house attached to the school and a couple of acres of land.
Sally was keen to buy without even looking at it. Philip was more pragmatic, but seemed excited by the idea. The only one not looking forward to moving to Ireland was Carl, but Sally had said he could have a third dog with all that space, if he wanted one. On the way to Ireland, they were stopping off at kennels to pick up a golden Labrador puppy Carl had chosen and wanted to call Woody.
‘Three dogs called Woody. Really?’ I ask.
‘His happiness is paramount,’ Philip says. ‘I don’t know how many thirteen-year-olds could have been through as much horror as he has and still be laughing and enjoying himself.’
We watch as Carl bounds around with the dogs.
‘I’m so sorry this ended like it did,’ I say, looking back at the charred remains of the restaurant.
‘It wasn’t your fault,’ Philip says. ‘Whether you’d come here or not, Iain would still have tried to stop the body being discovered. And if you hadn’t been here, you wouldn’t have taken the cartridges out of that gun, and I would be dead right now.’
Sally shivers. ‘It doesn’t bear thinking about, does it?’
‘I can’t believe how evil and manipulative he was, and for so long,’ Adele says.
‘He was full of hatred and loathing from a young age. He resented his brother for having everything he felt he should have had,’ I say.
‘Do you think they’ll ever find Travis?’ Philip asks.
‘I doubt it. Iain has no reason to reveal the location of his body. It’s his only trump card.’
‘Bastard,’ Philip says under his breath.
‘You’ll come to Ireland to see us, won’t you?’ Sally asks.
‘Do you really want me to, after all this?’
‘Of course.’
‘You’d better come,’ Carl chimes up.
I turn around to look at him. ‘Once you’re settled, let me know, and I’ll come over.’
‘You mean it?’
