Page 58 of The Bodies
FIFTY-THREE
Joseph drives, despite his injured knee. Erin, beside him, looks deep in thought, as if she’s wrestling with something existential.
‘There were signs,’ she says, eventually. ‘I didn’t miss them. I ignored them.’
Joseph pulls up at a junction, waits for the lights to change.
‘You’ve heard a lot of the school stuff,’ Erin continues, ‘but not all of it. When Tilly was twelve, a group of girls started bullying her. Name-calling, mockery, the usual nonsense. One day something happened between Tilly and the ringleader, a physical clash in the toilets. The other girl was hurt – very badly hurt. She needed corrective surgery, the works. Another pupil came forward as a witness, but only after Tilly went to see her. She said Tilly had defended herself against an unprovoked attack. If it hadn’t been for that, there might well have been charges. We still had to find her a new school.
‘Then there was what happened with Robson. Six months after he won joint custody, his solicitors said he wanted the agreement terminated, along with all his parental rights. They said he’d woken a few times in the night to find Tilly at his bedside, staring down at him – that she’d scared him shitless.
That on the last occasion she’d had a knife.
‘Tilly denied it and I believed her. Or at least, I guess I decided not to think too much about it. The main thing was it was over. He was out of our lives for good.’
‘And then you married Mark,’ Joseph says, recalling that relationship’s tragic end. ‘Do you think—’
‘No,’ Erin replies, her tone vehement. ‘Mark had his problems – his gambling debts were crippling us – but he was getting help, and I’d found a job with a higher salary. Tilly knew that I loved him. She’s not a monster, Joe. She’s just …’
Lost?
Joseph studies his wife as he waits for the lights to change, because he’s experienced the same cognitive dissonance and knows the tricks it can pull. ‘Did Tilly and Mark get on?’
Quietly, Erin says, ‘She hated him.’
By the time they’ve skirted Jack-O’-Lantern Woods, the sun is bleeding its last red light through the trees. At this time of day there’s little traffic. As they roll past the big houses on Hocombe Hill, they’re the only vehicle on the road.
‘I’ll slow down as we pass,’ Joseph says, ‘but I won’t stop. Get the best look you can.’
A minute later they reach Thornecroft. Despite their reduced speed, the surrounding trees allow only a brief glimpse down the drive before the house is swallowed up again.
As Joseph accelerates away, Erin turns in her seat. ‘I saw the Honda,’ she says. ‘Plus two cars I know belong to Angus. But not the Mercedes Gabriel was driving yesterday.’
‘I think that was a hire car,’ he replies. ‘Maybe he already returned it. We’ll find somewhere to pull in. Then we’ll double-back on foot. Do you know if the house has a security system?’
‘I’m pretty sure it doesn’t. And if we go through those trees to the back we can avoid the drive.’
Joseph finds a suitable parking spot a few hundred yards from Thornecroft, a grass verge between two huge private residences and their grounds. Grabbing the holdall, he locks the van.
On this side of the road there are no houses, just open woodland. Joseph leads Erin into cover before they flank the road towards Thornecroft.
A minute later he spots the entrance. Dropping the holdall, he transfers the birdwatching scope into the daysack and slips his arms through the straps. Then he takes out the crossbow, the tomahawk and two sheathed knives.
‘Joe?’
The setting sun has turned Erin’s skin golden, in stark contrast to her dark clothes. In this light she looks like an avenging angel, her beauty somehow terrible.
The look she gives him is full of sorrow. ‘I just wanted to say I love you, Joe. I know how empty that might sound, but it really is the truth. We’ve never said it enough, and this may be our last chance.’
Joseph holds her gaze, asks himself how he feels about her words. And then he goes over and kisses her, holding her in the fading light.
‘I can’t lose Tilly,’ she tells him. ‘Whatever she’s done, however damaged she may be, she’s still my daughter. If this goes as planned and I get her back, I swear I’ll fix her.’
‘We both will,’ he replies, but he doesn’t really believe it. He doesn’t think Tilly can be fixed. Strapping a knife to his belt, he hands the other one to Erin. Then he offers her the crossbow.
Erin stares at it a while before accepting. Joseph picks up the tomahawk and feels instantly light-headed. Because the weapon, in truth, is anything but ridiculous.
They emerge a short distance from Thornecroft’s driveway, hurrying across the road and ducking back into cover. There’s no border fence, just more of the same deciduous woodland. Keeping the driveway on their left, they move through the undergrowth towards the house.
Above the trees, the red hues of sunset have turned crimson. Joseph skirts a patch of bracken, staying as low as he can, and finds a hollow where the shadows are already deepening. He lowers himself to his good knee, takes out Claire’s birdwatching scope and focuses the lens on Thornecroft.
The building is huge: triple-fronted with three enormous chimney stacks rising high above its gables. Light glows from the windows of all the ground-floor rooms. Inside the covered porch, the two half-arch entrance doors stand open in mocking invitation.
Joseph sees his mother’s car on the drive, parked between a Lexus and a vehicle hidden by a tarp. Erin was right about the tree cover. It should be possible to circle the main residence without being spotted.
‘Joe,’ Erin says, behind him. ‘I’m sorrier than you’ll ever know – but I have to do this. I’ve no choice.’
Joseph lowers the scope. When he turns his head, he sees that she’s lifted the crossbow to her shoulder, placing him at the centre of its sights.