‘Is this the kind of work you did at Hill House?’ Beth asked, looking at a bowl decorated with tiny violets. It was exquisite work, the finished article would probably sell for £30 or more.
‘Nah.’ Megan grimaced. ‘We used to mainly make little plaster cottages and paint them up, crap stuff for the tourists. Reuben wouldn’t go for anything that needed a kiln or nothin’.’
Beth gathered that meant Reuben went for quantity rather than quality.
‘You were already at Hill House when Susan arrived, weren’t you?’ she asked next. ‘Can you tell me how she was then?’
‘Loopy,’ Megan said bluntly. ‘Going on about how God had punished her by taking her baby.’
‘Punished her!’ Beth exclaimed. ‘What for?’
‘I dunno.’ Megan shrugged. ‘She never said. But she weren’t the kind to do anything bad, so I put it down to her being crazy with grief. Anyway, most of the people who came there were on some sort of weird trip. I didn’t used to take much notice. I got to like Sue, though, she got the place clean, cooked nice things for us. She was very,’ she paused again, presumably searching for the right word, ‘mumsy, that’s it. Liked to look after people. Once she settled down, she was nice.’
‘So she didn’t stay loopy?’
‘No, she was as sane as you or me in a few weeks. She got to love the place, she was happy. She liked walking, being outside, flowers and all that.’
Beth sensed by the warmth in Megan’s voice that she had become fond of Susan, perhaps Susan had even been a good influence on her.
‘So what went wrong? Why did she leave?’ Beth asked.
‘Same reason everyone always left, they wised up that Reuben was a shit.’
‘But Susan was having a relationship with him, wasn’t she?’ Beth asked.
Megan gave a humourless laugh. ‘He had one of those with all the women, including me,’ she said. ‘He called it “sexual healing”. He was a real bastard, conned us all into thinking we were special. Then he’d move on to the next one.’
‘All the women had been “his women”?’ Beth said in surprise.
‘Sure, what else would make a woman live there and work so hard for him?’
‘But did Susan know this? I mean, when she first got there?’
‘No, it were a kind of rule we didn’t bandy that around,’ Megan said, and giggled as if she found it embarrassing. ‘The last two had left by the time Sue got there anyway. I didn’t give a shit about Reuben any more, and the two others he’d been with had someone else, so we didn’t say nothing. Besides, I thought Sue was good for him. He was nicer with her there. Guess he liked the way she looked after him and the house. It kept him off my back too, so I wanted it to work out for them.’
‘But Susan did find out about the others?’
‘She got slapped in the face with it,’ Megan said. ‘He came in one night with this tart Zoë and Sue had to like it or lump it.’
‘Who was this girl and where did she come from?’ Beth asked.
Megan shrugged as if she didn’t know.
‘Well, how did Susan take it?’ Beth continued.
‘Not as bad as I expected. I caught her crying a few times, but that was all. She used to say she’d fix Reuben one day, and she did really, the place fell apart after she left. I think that’s why he lost interest and cleared off.’
‘So who is up at the house now?’
‘A load of freaks,’ Megan said with a grimace of distaste. ‘They come and go, they’ve turned the place into a right tip. If Reuben doesn’t come back soon and turn them out, the house won’t be worth a light.’
‘So how long has he been gone?’
Megan shrugged. ‘Two years maybe. I can’t remember exactly and he’s probably been back since I left. I went soon after Sue, couldn’t stand it no more without her. I wanted to move right away but I didn’t have the money.’
She went on to explain that this cottage had belonged to an old man called Evan, he’d taken her in and let her sleep in his spare room.
‘I’d only been here a few weeks when he had a heart attack and died,’ she went on. ‘Evan’s solicitor said I could stay on as a tenant until they found out who’d inherit the cottage.’
‘So you might have to leave at any time then?’ Beth said.
Megan shrugged. ‘I guess so, haven’t heard anything for ages.’
Beth was getting a much clearer picture of this girl, for she was like a great many of her clients. She guessed Megan had run away from home too young, lived in squats, experimented with drugs, been abused by many men before she even met Reuben. Yet despite the squalor of her living conditions and her unkempt appearance, there was something very decent about her. She wasn’t living off the state, and there was no sign of drug use.
‘Is the baby’s father staying here with you?’ she asked.
‘No, he skipped off as soon as he knew,’ Megan said with a tight little laugh. ‘But then all men are bastards, aren’t they? Sue used to say that. She was right. She were the one that made me try doing other kinds of painting.’
‘Really?’ Beth exclaimed, though not really surprised, Susan had always been good at noting talent in other people.
‘Yeah.’ Megan smirked. ‘She saw me copying a picture of some flowers out of a book one day. She got me to try doing it on other things. I did a frieze round the kitchen window, painted on fabric and stuff. She told me I was talented.’
Beth heard the pride in her voice and the gratitude to the woman who had encouraged her. It took her right back to when Susan had made her feel that way.
‘Have you got any idea how much other people gave Reuben to live there?’ Beth asked.
‘Whatever they had.’ Megan shrugged. ‘Roger had a nice car, he had to sell that. Heather told me she gave him two thousand pounds. But I reckon he got the most out of Sue.’
‘Really?’ Beth said. ‘I didn’t think she had much.’
‘Neither did she till she found the note from the auctioneers in Bristol.’ Megan gave a tight little laugh. ‘She’d been hunting around in his things while he was out, trying to find proof of how much he made from the craft stuff. She never did find anything about that, only the note. He got over seven thousand for her gear. She was savage. She hadn’t known it was worth that much.’
Beth was puzzled now. She couldn’t understand why Susan hadn’t told Steven that. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Yeah, she showed me the note herself. You could check up if you don’t believe me. It was a proper auction firm in Bristol. They keep records, don’t they?’
Beth mentally made a note to contact all auctioneers in Bristol. Such evidence would be very useful. ‘Would you come up to Hill House with me?’ she asked.
Megan stopped painting and looked at her in horror. ‘You’re joking, aren’t you? They’d set the dogs on us.’
‘How many people are living there?’
‘About eight, last time I heard,’ she said. ‘But it changes all the time. They probably won’t know where Reuben is anyway, don’t think any of the ones there now have ever met him.’
‘But it’s his house, isn’t it?’
‘Yeah. What difference does that make? They’re just squatters. They took it over.’
‘Look, I must go up to look at the house,’ Beth said firmly. ‘Will you just come part of the way with me? You can stay in my car, and if anything happens to me you can use my car phone to call the police.’
‘I’ll lose painting time.’ Megan gave Beth a shifty look, which suggested she wanted to be bribed.
‘I’ll give you twenty pounds,’ Beth offered.
‘Okay.’ Megan promptly put her brush down. ‘But I stay in the car, right?’
The road out of Emlyn Carlisle led to a narrow lane going upwards into open countryside with no further houses, then Megan directed Beth off this lane on to a mere track between fields. Beth could appreciate that in spring and summer it would be very beautiful, but it was too wild and remote for h
er.
Megan sat hunched up in an old sheepskin coat, and with the car heater on, Beth soon became very aware of the girl’s unwashed body. But morose as she looked, she did chatter, about how lovely she thought Hill House was at first, and how different it was to London where she grew up.
‘We lived in a council flat in Rotherhithe,’ she said. ‘Five kids and me mum, all in three rooms. I used to dream of fields and the seaside, like other girls dream of film stars. I met this Welsh bloke one night in a pub, and when he said he’d take me to Wales I didn’t stop to think whether I could trust him, or even how far away it was. He dumped me in Swansea. I s’pose he was married all along.’
‘How old were you then, Megan?’ Beth asked.
‘Sixteen,’ she said. ‘And I’ve been in Wales ever since. I had a couple of years in Swansea, doing all sorts, then I met Reuben and came here. It was like the sun came out at last’
Beth nodded. She could guess what ‘allsorts’ meant. She supposed Reuben must have seemed like her saviour.
‘Susan come from a good home, didn’t she?’ Megan said. ‘She was very particular, always cleaning and polishing. I used to tease her and call her S.S. for spick and span. She ought to have been married to some normal bloke. But I s’pose her little girl dying really did her head in.’
‘Did she ever talk about her?’ Beth asked.
‘Not really, it was like it hurt her too much. I used to catch her crying sometimes though and I knew she was thinking about her. Was that doctor she shot the one that let her little girl die?’
‘Yes,’ Beth said. ‘Did she ever say anything about him?’
‘Only that if he’d been a real doctor he would have known how ill her little girl was. I couldn’t believe it was really her when I heard her name on the news. She might have been a crack shot, but I didn’t think she’d ever turn a gun on a human being.’
Beth’s head jerked round at that. ‘You knew she could shoot?’
‘Well, yeah. She used to shoot rabbits and wood pigeons with a shotgun. Didn’t she tell you that? Without her we’d have hardly ever eaten meat. She used to make really yummy casseroles.’
‘Was it her shotgun?’
‘No, Reuben’s. He couldn’t shoot straight though. I think it pissed him off she was so good at it.’ Megan stopped abruptly as they had arrived at Hill House.
They could see the farmhouse through a few trees, nestling against the side of a hill. It looked very much as Beth had imagined, grey stone, small windows, only more dilapidated, with weeds growing out of the roof. Smoke was coming out of the chimney, but there was no sign of anyone, not even the dogs she’d been warned about.
‘Be careful,’ Megan said, looking at Beth anxiously. ‘Leave straight away if they get heavy.’
‘Don’t worry about me, I’m big enough to take care of myself,’ Beth said, and pointed to the car phone. ‘Use that in an emergency.’
Chapter fourteen
Beth stopped in her tracks as a wild-eyed, skinny lurcher came hurtling out of the farmhouse towards her, barking frantically. He looked capable of tearing her to pieces.
‘Good boy,’ she said, hoping he wasn’t that way inclined. She liked dogs, and they usually liked her, but there was always an exception to the rule.
The dog stopped short in front of her, looking at her curiously, but his tail began to wag. She held out her hand for him to smell it, then stroked him. ‘That’s better,’ she said, patting his head. ‘Are you going to let me knock on the door?’
There was a pall of dirt and decay all around her, empty beer cans, bottles and other debris strewn around on the muddy ground. The house was sagging with age and neglect. In one corner of the yard rotting refuse was piled high, nearby was an old ambulance which had been painted red. It had ‘The Devil’s Disciples’ emblazoned in yellow along the side, and one tyre was completely flat – it was the kind of vehicle often used by travellers. She couldn’t see any other kind of transport. A door to what she thought might have been the workshop in Susan’s time here was hanging off its hinges and inside she could see what looked like piles of spare parts from motors.
Looking at the house again, Beth shuddered, for the many broken window-panes covered over with tin and cardboard gave her a fair idea of the occupants. Even the front door looked as if it had been on the receiving end of many a boot. She could no more imagine Susan living in such a place than in an igloo.
She was just about to rap on the door when it was wrenched open by a man of about twenty-five, with long black hair, one hooped earring and a thick sweater nearly reaching his knees.
‘Wha’cha want?’ he said in a strong Birmingham accent.
‘I’m trying to find Reuben, the owner of this house,’ Beth said, smiling pleasantly and petting the dog to show she wasn’t hostile.
‘He ain’t here, so fuck off,’ the man replied.
Beth drew herself up to her full height and looked him in the eye. ‘Please don’t take that aggressive tone with me,’ she said firmly. ‘You see, I’m a solicitor, and if you won’t answer my questions then I shall just have to go to the police and ask them. Now, will you please tell me where Reuben is?’
‘I dunno,’ he said, backing away with fear in his eyes. ‘Never met him.’
‘Is there anyone here who has?’ she asked. She thought the man was very likely a heroin addict. He was very pale and thin, with dark circles beneath his eyes. He looked twitchy.
‘Not now, his mate left a while back.’
‘So who do you pay your rent to?’ she asked.
‘Don’t pay no rent,’ he said, his eyes dropping from hers. ‘We’re just staying here.’
‘Minding the place for him, are you?’ she asked, turning slightly to look at the view. Even on a cold February day it was beautiful, for the house overlooked a valley, with woods on the far side. ‘To check no squatters move in?’
He looked furtively towards her car, perhaps noticing there was someone sitting in it. ‘Yeah, some’at like that,’ he said. ‘But it ain’t no business of yours, so piss off.’
‘Who pays the rates and electricity?’ she asked.
Before he could reply, a woman appeared behind him. She was older, perhaps in her late thirties, with a rose tattooed on her forehead and a scarf tied turban-style round her head.
‘Who is she, Tom?’ she asked, looking curiously at Beth.
Beth explained. There was a slightly cultured tone to the woman’s voice, and although her clothes, a long flowing green jacket and trousers beneath, were dirty, she had a kind of elegance. ‘So I want to know who pays the rates and electricity,’ she finished up. ‘Someone must, otherwise the council would have evicted you by now.’
‘I don’t know,’ the woman said, looking uneasily at the man she had called Tom. ‘We never thought to ask.’
‘Perhaps you’d explain to me how you came to move in here then,’ Beth said. ‘You see, if you pay no rent and you have no proof Reuben gave you permission to live here, technically you are squatters.’
‘Look, we’re not doing any harm,’ the woman said, her voice rising as if she suddenly realized Beth really could be trouble. ‘We keep ourselves to ourselves. We were told by Reuben’s friend it was cool to stay here.’
‘How long have you lived here then?’
‘About fourteen, fifteen months,’ she said.
‘And Reuben hasn’t come back in all that time?’
‘No,’ she said. ‘I wouldn’t even know him if he did.’
‘Do letters come for him?’ Beth asked.
‘Yeah, from time to time,’ Tom answered.
‘And what do you do with them?’
Tom suddenly rushed at Beth, pushing her away with one hand. ‘Fuck off, you nosy bitch,’ he yelled. ‘It’s nothing to do with you. Get out now before I call the dogs.’
‘Set any dogs on me and you’ll end up in court,’ she said coldly. ‘Then you’ll have to answer a great many more questions.’
His punch ca
me so suddenly and unexpectedly she didn’t have time to move away. It landed on the side of her jaw and knocked her over backwards. As she lay there on the filthy ground she saw his leg move to kick her and she got a brief flashback of the men in the alley all those years ago. But this time she had no intention of taking anything lying down. She rolled over and leapt up. ‘That’s it,’ she said, moving back out of his range. ‘I’m going to the police. I’ll make sure they come with a search warrant.’
As she fled to her car, she heard Tom shouting out abuse, but he didn’t follow her. Jumping in the car, she saw Megan had the car phone in her hand. ‘I’m calling the police,’ she said. ‘I saw him hit you.’
‘Tell them I’m just driving away now,’ Beth managed to get out, for she was winded, not just from the run to the car, but from the blow on her jaw. ‘Give them the number and they can phone me back in a minute.’
Hastily she started up the car, drove up nearer to the farm and quickly turned it round in the open space in front. A black Dobermann had been let out and he ran full tilt towards the car, jumping up at her door and snarling. Tom and the woman had been joined by two other men and even through the closed windows Beth could hear them shouting further abuse.
It was only as they got back on to the track that Beth became aware Megan had her face covered with her scarf. ‘It’s all right now,’ she said to the girl. ‘They wouldn’t have been able to see you from that distance.’
‘They’ll soon find out it was me,’ Megan said in a weary voice. ‘I shouldn’t have agreed to come. You don’t know what nasty bastards they can be.’
Beth rubbed her chin ruefully. ‘I can imagine,’ she said. ‘But the police will sort them out, don’t you worry, and I’ll make sure they take care of you too.’
It was after eight when Beth finally got back to her hotel in Cardigan. She had a nasty bruise coming up on her chin and she still felt a little shaky. It had been a very strange and unsettling day all round.
The local police in two cars had met her at the bottom of the track. One constable stayed with her and Megan in her car to take their statements, while the other three policemen went up to Hill House. Around half an hour later they came back down the track, with Tom in the back of one car, under arrest.