Till We Meet Again
She paused, trembling with emotion. ‘I gave him everything I had,’ she said simply. ‘Not just my worldly possessions, but my love, trust and all my skills. When I arrived at Hill House it was a grubby, disorganized place. I cleaned it up, made it comfortable and cosy. By planning meals in advance I reduced waste and made economies. Some of the people there couldn’t cook, they had no idea of hygiene. I taught them those things. I mended clothes, I nursed them when they were sick. I cared for the garden too.’ She looked round at Steven. ‘I know I told you that I knew what Reuben was long before he came home with Zoë, but that wasn’t true. Yes, I found out how much money he got for my belongings, and that he was making more from the workshop than everyone supposed, but that didn’t matter to me. He was sharing his home and his life with a bunch of people who would have been living on the streets but for him. That’s how I saw it, and even when the others grumbled to me, I always took his part.’
‘But then he turned up with Zoë?’ Roy said, trying to nudge her along. ‘Now, when was that?’
‘A few days before Christmas of 1992,’ she said haltingly.
Even after all this time, everything was so clear and sharp about that day. It was very cold, with a biting wind, but Susan had been in the kitchen all afternoon, making mince pies and icing the cake for Christmas. The others kept coming in and out, trying to steal the pies sitting cooling on the wire tray on the table.
It had been a happy day, everyone childishly looking forward to Christmas, swapping childhood stories and laughing a great deal. Susan remembered Megan was sitting in the corner of the kitchen folding coloured paper to make Chinese lanterns to hang on some branches she’d sprayed with gold paint. She had a tinsel crown on her head.
It was dark when they heard Reuben’s van arrive back. The table was laid for dinner and everyone was waiting expectantly as Susan had made a rabbit pie and they were all starving.
Then Reuben walked in, rubbing his hands together with the cold, and just behind him was the girl.
She was tall, slender, with long blonde hair and azure-blue eyes. She wore a sheepskin coat, the soft, expensive kind, a red beret, jeans and long riding boots. She could have just stepped out of the pages of a fashion magazine.
‘This is Zoë,’ Reuben said, drawing her forward and keeping his arm around her. ‘She’s come to join us.’
Everyone looked surprised, but as he introduced Zoë to each of them, they recovered quickly, and someone went and found another chair and began squeezing it in at the already crowded table for her.
‘Oh, don’t put yourself out for me,’ she said, waving her hand. Her long nails were painted black with a little glitter on each one. ‘I can make do with a sandwich and sit anywhere.’
Susan had sensed just by the protective way Reuben was with her, that this young, pretty and confident girl was going to be trouble, but she felt she had to be welcoming. ‘Of course you must join us, we always eat all together,’ she said. ‘It’s an important part of our life here.’
Zoë’s blue eyes fixed for a moment on Susan’s face and slid down her plump body contemptuously, as if comparing her own to it. ‘You must be the Earth Mother I’ve heard so much about,’ she said with a smirk.
All through the meal Zoë charmed everyone but Susan. She tossed her hair with one hand as she spoke of bathing under a waterfall in Thailand, and it was obvious from the glow in all the men’s eyes that they were imagining her firm young body naked. She said she’d got a tattoo, and stood up and unzipped her jeans to show a green gecko on her washing-board stomach.
Her cut-glass accent irritated Susan, especially when Zoë went on to speak scornfully of her stuffy parents in Bath. Daddy was a dentist. He wanted her to have a career. Mummy was a lady who lunched and raised money for charities. She said they knew nothing of the real world.
She held forth for some time on her philosophy of complete freedom, that youth shouldn’t be spoiled by work, that pleasure was all. She said she had lived for a while with some ‘freaks’ in a squat in Bristol, but when Reuben told her about the set-up here, she’d thought she’d ‘give it a stab’, as she put it.
‘I’m very artistic,’ she said airily. ‘I’m sure I could design something crafty we could sell for a fortune.’
Her arrogance astounded Susan. She remembered how on her first night she had hardly dared say a word to anyone. This girl looked set on taking control.
But even worse was watching Reuben’s reaction to her. He couldn’t take his eyes off her, he nodded in agreement at almost everything she said, however infantile. It was obvious he had fallen for her completely, and Susan suspected they were already lovers.
Yet however hurtful that was, Susan expected that Reuben would do the right thing and tell her himself when they were alone in their bedroom later that night. As she began the washing up, with everyone else still sitting around the table, she tried to squash her anger and jealousy and prepare herself for it. She hoped she could handle it with dignity, maybe ask that he take Zoë somewhere else until she could make plans to leave.
‘Leave that, Sue,’ Reuben said suddenly. ‘Get on upstairs and change the sheets on my bed.’
She remembered letting a plate slip from her fingers back into the sink and break. ‘Why?’ she asked stupidly.
‘Well, Zoë won’t want to sleep in your sheets,’ he said with a malicious grin. ‘So hurry along, we’re tired.’
It was impossible to believe that anyone could be so cruel, and in front of so many witnesses. Susan turned towards the others at the table, tears starting up in her eyes, expecting at least some of them to speak up for her. But Simon and Roger were grinning furtively, a kind of ‘well-you-can’t-blame-him’ expression. Heather smirked, and everyone else looked away. Only young Megan looked as if she felt for her.
Later, Susan was to wonder why she didn’t shout at Reuben, or at least tell him to do it himself, anything but obey meekly. But in that humiliating moment she thought it prudent to remove her own things from that room, rather than have Zoë going through them.
As she took her jumpers out of the chest of drawers, her hand made contact with her father’s revolver, wrapped in a piece of soft cloth. She hadn’t touched it since the day she’d moved into Hill House, but as she felt its heaviness, for a brief second she thought of turning it on Reuben right then.
There had been times since moving into Hill House when it had crossed her mind that Reuben might tire of her one day. She had spoken of it once, and Reuben had said that if the day ever came he promised he’d tell her to her face, long before he embarked on a relationship with a new woman. She had believed him too, for he was always talking about honesty in relationships being all-important.
Now it seemed promises and loyalty meant nothing to him. The pain she felt was so terrible she wanted to scream it out, and if she had had anywhere to go, she would have gone then, walking right through the night, rather than stay under the same roof as them. But it was below freezing outside, she had no money, and there was no place to run to.
In many ways it was like Annabel’s death all over again, the pain and the disbelief were all so similar. She could remember asking herself why she had to be punished again. And why it was when she had so much love in her heart, no one had any for her.
Relegated to the smallest, dampest room, with a sagging, lumpy bed, night after night she grew more angry. She could hear them making love across the landing, and it seemed to go on for hours. Then they’d wake her with it again in the mornings, and she would lie there rigid with hate, completely impotent even to flee from her tormentors.
They did torment her too, all over that Christmas. They cuddled and kissed in front of her, sniggering at her embarrassment and humiliating her further by getting her to wait on them.
On New Year’s Eve they disappeared together for a few days, giving her a little respite, but they came back all too soon. All through the bitter weather of January and February, while the rest of them braved the cold to w
ork in the craft room, they were either lolling in the kitchen, smoking dope, or up in the bedroom making love.
‘Susan!’ Roy said sharply, bringing her back to the present with a jolt. ‘I asked you if Zoë and Reuben had already formed a relationship before he brought her to Hill House? Or did it start afterwards?’
‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I was thinking about the day he brought her there. I think they were already lovers.’
She explained what had happened, then went on to say that over Christmas and New Year they humiliated her in every possible way.
‘They stuffed themselves with the food I’d prepared, drank the wine I made, and acted like I was just a halfwitted housekeeper,’ she said angrily. ‘It was just like the way Father and Martin treated me all over again, only much worse because in the days when I was at home in Luddington I didn’t know any different.’
‘Why didn’t you just leave?’ Roy asked.
‘How could I? I had no money, nowhere to go to.’ She made a gesture of hopelessness with her hands. ‘I begged Reuben to give me some money so I could leave, but he just laughed at me. He was so cruel, he said I didn’t know how well off I was, and who else would give a home to a broken-down old crone like me?’
‘So you saw what he really was then?’ Roy said with some sympathy.
She nodded. ‘All my belief in him turned to hatred. He’d clear off for a few days with Zoë, and each time he came back he was nastier because by then he really wanted me out. I saw how stupid he really was then. He thought Zoë could take my place in every way.’ She gave a hollow laugh. ‘As if! She had no interest in keeping house for him, that wasn’t her scene. Reuben and his house were just a stop-gap till she got a better offer somewhere else.’
‘So when did you start planning to kill them?’ Roy asked.
‘In March,’ she said, crossing her arms defiantly. ‘I knew Reuben would throw me out before long, but he still wouldn’t give me any money. He said he didn’t care if I starved on the streets, I could do with it because I was too fat.’
She paused for a moment and dabbed at her eyes. ‘Then I overheard him telling Zoë that he had this secret place, and he’d take her there when the weather was better. I knew where he meant of course, and I decided then and there, that would be their graveyard. So each time I went out for a walk, I went there, taking a piece of camping equipment or tins of food with me. Then in early April they went off to North Wales – Reuben always had a stall at some craft market there. As soon as they’d gone I told the others I was leaving, and went, only I didn’t leave Wales. I went on up to the glade in the woods to wait.’
She began to say something else, but her voice faded away and when Roy looked at her he saw she had gone chalky-white. He leapt up and went round the table, just in time to catch her as she fainted.
‘Terminate the interview,’ he rapped out to Bloom. ‘And get her a drink of water.’ As Bloom hastily did as he was ordered, Roy and Steven pulled out Susan’s chair and put her head down between her knees.
‘That’s definitely enough for one day,’ Steven said.
‘It certainly is,’ Roy sighed.
Chapter eighteen
Steven was deeply troubled as he drove away from the prison. According to the prison doctor, Susan had fainted as the result of a combination of stress and lack of food. She had been taken to the hospital wing for observation over the weekend, and Steven had said he would ring the prison on Monday morning to see how she was.
As he approached the Almondsbury interchange between the M4 and the M5, and saw the Friday evening traffic almost at a standstill, he felt even worse. He wanted to go back to the office and see Beth before he went home, but he had promised to take Polly and Sophie to Brownies that evening, and if he went to Clifton first, he wouldn’t make it home again in time.
Wearily, he joined the queue of cars. It would be a long weekend having to hold Susan’s partial confession inside him. Anna had never taken much interest in his cases, but since she’d stopped drinking she seemed almost jealous of his relationship with his clients, and Susan in particular, but that was probably because she’d picked up on his sympathy for her.
Anna was even more jealous of Beth. She’d sensed that she and Steven had become close friends and felt threatened, so now it was safer for him to avoid mentioning her at all. But that meant he wouldn’t go and see her this weekend, even a phone call was out of the question. Anna wouldn’t need much of an excuse to start drinking again, for she had reached the stage where she had almost forgotten the bad aspects of her drinking, and the effect it had on the children. Now she really missed the pleasure of it and she was often snappy and depressed.
But with his mind on Susan, and still shocked by her frank confession, Steven hadn’t got much sympathy left for Anna right now. She’d had it all, a secure and happy childhood, the career of her choice, a great deal of fun, and freedom to express herself, plus two pretty, healthy children and a husband who loved her and took care of her. It was a great deal more than Susan had.
Steven thought of Susan’s revelations to Roy about Beth earlier that day, and wondered if he should at least make a quick call to her to warn her about it in case Roy contacted her this weekend. Yet it didn’t seem right to blurt out something like that over the phone, or to tell her about the confession. Both were likely to distress her.
But then, everyone involved in this case was distressed by it – himself, Beth, Roy and not least Susan. Then there were the victims’ families, and the present owners of The Rookery who were about to find out that their garden concealed a grave. That hardly bore thinking about.
He wondered what Susan was thinking about right now. He didn’t entirely believe the doctor’s verdict as to why she fainted. He thought it was more likely a panic attack brought on by what she knew she had yet to reveal.
Susan lay in her bed in the hospital wing, her head spinning with confused thoughts. It seemed to her she’d got herself into a situation which was a bit like climbing up on a big rock at low tide. The tide had turned and now she was cut off, watching the dark water swirl around her rock, knowing that before long the waters would rise to engulf her.
It hadn’t seemed that difficult to admit to killing Liam because she knew she really hadn’t meant to do it. But she soon found that knowing in her head what she had done was very different to relating it to someone else for the first time. She found she was almost standing back from herself and seeing the full horror of it as another person.
She couldn’t understand now how she managed to stay so calm afterwards, or why she felt so little remorse or guilt. If Annabel hadn’t died, how would she have coped with her questions about her father later on? She didn’t remember ever considering that before.
But then she supposed she was guilty of never really considering anything properly in her entire life. She hadn’t stopped to think what agreeing to take care of her mother would mean. She certainly hadn’t stopped to think before embarking on a love affair with Liam. Maybe she could excuse both of those because her heart was ruling her head and she was naive. Yet she couldn’t understand why she allowed herself to become entrapped by Reuben, for in many ways he was another Martin, every bit as cunning, cold-hearted, cruel and on the make.
Of course she didn’t see that at the time. The way he talked about feelings, religion and psychology made him seem as opposite to Martin as it was possible to be. Then there was his unconventional appearance and that way he had of looking right into your eyes, as if you were the most fascinating person in the entire world.
Yet when she thought back to the way Reuben just took her off to the bedroom and stripped off his clothes, she realized she ought to have heard warning bells jangling. It was, in her vulnerable state, almost rape. Just the fact that he’d said he loved her shouldn’t have made her believe he had a right to take complete control of every aspect of her life.
She did believe that though. She let him mould her into exactly what he wanted from his
woman. He didn’t like her ordinary clothes, she had to wear hippie-style long dresses. He wouldn’t let her get her hair cut, or wear makeup. She had to learn to like New Age music and read David Eddings fantasy books instead of Catherine Cookson. She didn’t dare admit to approving of Margaret Thatcher, she had to become a dyed-in-the-wool lefty.
She got so far into his power that she almost admitted to him once that she believed Annabel was taken from her because she’d killed Liam. It wasn’t long after she’d arrived at Hill House.
With her eyes closed, she could see herself on that warm, sunny afternoon in early October. Reuben had taken her out for a walk, to what he said was a secret place which he’d never shared with anyone before. They walked across one of his fields, then through another, and skirted round a wooded hill and over a fence to a tiny rough path that went up into the woods.
The trees and bushes were so dense, the ground so rocky, steep and difficult to walk on that she didn’t really want to go on. It was chilly in the shade of the trees, and brambles and twigs were snatching at her face and clothes. But Reuben kept saying it would be worth it when they got there.
It was indeed worth the hard slog to reach it, for once they’d fought their way through the last of the thick bushes they came into a little horseshoe-shaped glade, encircled by tall trees which almost met above their heads. The opening of the horseshoe was at an escarpment of rock, far too steep for anyone to climb up that way. The afternoon sun streamed down through the opening on to lush, mossy grass. Reuben led her over to the rocks, and there was Hill House far below, the village beyond, and a view all the way to the sea.
‘This is your new kingdom,’ he said, kissing her. ‘And you are my queen.’
He had brought a blanket with him, and a bottle of wine, and he said they had to make love there for it would be like a marriage ceremony. It had seemed so sacred, not a sound except birdsong, the sun slanting in through the leaves which were just starting to change colour. Susan could remember thinking as she lay back on the rug that it was almost like being in a cathedral.