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  ‘I caught him doing something odd to Georgina once.’ Claire surprises herself with the forgotten memory.

  ‘Georgina Edney, from Picasso Way?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

  ‘I guess I blotted it out. I originally kept quiet because he’s Jen’s brother and she was ashamed of her family. His threat to slash the throats of Georgina and her parents if we told, frightened me. I was only nine. She was a few years younger.’

  Ellen clears her throat. ‘Did he hurt either of you?’

  ‘No. Not physically anyway. It was his birthday party. Jen begged Johnny and me to be there for solidarity. I snuck upstairs to have a snoop around. Patricia hardly ever let anyone into the house so I couldn’t pass up the opportunity. I opened the door to Liam’s bedroom. Georgina stood in front of him, naked and trembling. Since then, nothing I’ve encountered is as creepy as what he’d done and I’ve seen some freaky things.’

  ‘What was it?’

  Claire shakes her head, desperate to release the memory and never carry it again. ‘He had a book open. I think it was one of Jen’s. Did you know she collected medical textbooks?’

  Ellen nods, while willing the stationary traffic to move.

  ‘Georgina’s body had the reproductive system drawn on it, labelling the bits and pieces. Liam trailed a knife over her, like a surgeon ready to operate.’

  Ellen’s mouth is dry. None of her past investigations come close to this. ‘Had he cut her?’

  ‘No. I reckon he would have if I hadn’t appeared. I kept it together and said Georgina’s mum was downstairs, waiting to collect her. It got us out of there.’

  ‘You did the right thing. I wonder what her parents did about it.’

  ‘Georgina scrubbed herself clean as soon as she got home and carried on as normal. She told me a few days later. After, she shut down and acted like it never happened. We didn’t speak of it again. I should have told you. It might have prevented Liam escalating to killing.’

  Ellen reaches over. ‘You were young and scared. Don’t blame yourself.’

  ‘It gets worse. When I asked what he was doing, Liam said he was conducting research. He needed to understand how females work so he could master them. I didn’t get what he meant at the time. I know now.’

  ‘I remember you came back from the party saying you’d eaten too much and felt sick. I should’ve checked when you went to bed early.’

  ‘I was fine, eventually. I wish I’d said something though. Kelly might still be alive.’

  ‘No.’ Ellen slaps the dashboard. ‘Don’t do that. Don’t blame yourself for the actions of sickos. He will pay for all of this. We have evidence.’ She looks at Kelly’s diary, sitting in Claire’s lap.

  Realising they’ll be stuck for a while longer, Claire opens the book. She turns to the damning page, written the day before Kelly died.

  15th October

  Dear Diary,

  I am so confused. I love Liam with all my heart but he never says he loves me. So far, I’ve kept his name out of these diaries because I was worried someone might read them. Dad would kill us if he knew. I’m always protecting Liam by keeping our relationship hidden. There will be no more secrets. If I write the truth here, it will give me strength.

  Liam Taylor is the father of my baby. I’m going to tell him tomorrow, after school. I tried to speak to him today when I was in town. When I called Liam’s name, he looked through me as if I didn’t exist.

  I view him as my Heathcliff. Liam is mean and moody but irresistible. Our souls are connected. I shouldn’t let him be so rough but he’ll leave me if I don’t. He said so, last time, when I complained about the marks. I’m used to being hit, but with someone you love, it’s not right.

  Liam scares me sometimes. When he looks at me, I wonder what he sees. Occasionally it seems like disgust, but how can that be? Those eyes once danced with joy when they cast themselves upon me. Recently, they are dark and almost hateful.

  When he squeezed my neck, I thought I’d die. As I tried to free myself, he gripped tighter. When he finally let go, I told him our relationship was over if he did it again. He laughed and said I would never leave him. The shower of kisses confirmed I’m still his special girl. I hide the marks under polo necks. Mum would ask questions. Dad never strangles me. It’s not his thing.

  When Liam shows affection, I feel like I could fly. He doesn’t give it much anymore. Maybe when I tell him I’m pregnant, he will cover me in kisses again. Maybe he’ll be gentler when he knows I’m the mother of his child. We could be a family. Mum would be a brilliant grandma. All I’ve ever wanted is a family of my own, full of love, not hate.

  Claire wishes she could reach into the page and grasp Kelly’s writing hand, to rescue her. Reading over Claire’s shoulder, Ellen leans against her daughter. They unite in grief for a girl murdered by a depraved young man. The grown-up version might also kill Jen if they don’t get there in time.

  The traffic moves.

  74

  Present

  Who is Liam? He’s always been a mystery and we’ve never had a connection, but he’s become a deranged stranger. My brother is a parody of evil. Instead of moustache twiddling, he smooths his groomed hair. Mum’s tainted blood courses his veins. Even though he has many faults, I choose to have Dad’s blood. That claret trickles from my busted nose. Dad’s offered tissue staunches the flow.

  ‘Didn’t know Priscilla and I were well-acquainted?’ Liam asks. ‘You’re not very good at this snooping business, Jennifer. I thought you’d worked it out when I saw she’d been on the phone to you. Shall I explain how she died?’

  ‘No,’ Dad replies.

  ‘If you must,’ I say at the same time.

  Liam pushes Dad and me back into the sofa. ‘Get comfortable, family. Too bad Amanda isn’t here to complete the set.’

  He notices the look I give Dad. ‘No, I haven’t killed her. Amanda is of no consequence to me.’

  After Liam releases us, Dad and I remain pressed against the cushions. I edge my fingers to the rear pocket of my jeans, cursing the habit of turning off my mobile. It’s wedged and I can’t retrieve it without Liam noticing. Once he’s finished narrating his murdering tales, I have no doubt we’ll be next on the list. If we lived to tell it, he wouldn’t confess to killing Kelly and Priscilla. Recounting his heinous deeds invigorates him. He needs recognition. The woman who bore us taught him everything. She also showed me how to play this scenario. Let him speak, for now.

  ‘Priscilla was a good lay.’ His tongue travels over his top lip. ‘I saw her in town, which was fortunate as I don’t bother with Troddington much. Small towns equal small minds. Mercedes demanded I get something for Charity’s earache.’ He walks to a photograph above the television and points. ‘There are my girls: Faith, Hope, and Charity.’

  This isn’t the time to ask what he was on when naming his daughters. They are all blonde and blue-eyed. Mum lives within them. I hope it’s the only similarity they share. Having Liam for a father is unfortunate enough. There’s no fatherly love in his gaze upon the photo. I pity his offspring. Liam lays the picture face down.

  ‘That first day, Priscilla invited me to her flat. She wanted it and I was willing to oblige.’ He winks.

  I can’t understand why females pursue him. As a teenager he was arrogant and lean. Now he’s an aggressive mound of muscle. The bottom half hasn’t caught up. His reedy legs make the skinny trousers he’s wearing baggy.

  ‘Priscilla and I met occasionally,’ he says. ‘Mercedes doesn’t care what I do anyway. After Charity was born, four years ago, I became surplus to requirements.’

  The smile Dad lets slip makes me want to hug him. Throbbing in my nose makes it impossible, even if Liam allowed us to move.

  ‘I thought Priscilla knew the score,’ Liam says, ‘but suddenly she wanted to get serious. Priscilla was useful until she tried to blackmail me into ending my marriage. She threatened to go to the police and te
ll them I was the father of Kelly’s baby if I didn’t commit to her.’

  Priscilla had to send Claire and me down the wrong path. It’s why she said Kelly was having a relationship with Rob. Priscilla protected a future she assumed Liam would offer. She’s dead because of her need for love, just like Kelly.

  ‘I gave Priscilla the routine of a grieving man who’d lost his girlfriend and baby. Boo hoo.’ Liam mimics wiping away tears. ‘She lapped it up, saying we were kindred spirits in caring about Kelly. Dumb whore never figured out I killed her friend too.’

  I wince at his spite. Priscilla probably hardened under his influence. She was apologetic in her phone call and wanted to start over. Liam has seen to it we never will.

  ‘Imagine my horror when Priscilla phoned to say she’d been divulging information to you and Claire.’ The cracking of Liam’s knuckles makes Dad flinch. ‘She said she’d fed you bull about Rob being the father but that I should confess. We’d be free of the past and be together, apparently. I said I’d come by later to seal the deal. So, I did.’

  ‘Why did you kill her?’ I won’t be quiet any longer. I came here for answers, not to be Liam’s mute puppet.

  ‘She needed silencing. I knew she’d be alone when locking up after work. As soon as I called out, I could’ve kicked myself when I saw her talking on the phone.’ He focuses on me. ‘Didn’t you recognise my voice?’

  ‘It was too faint and you sound deeper.’

  ‘I’m a real man nowadays.’ He flexes his biceps. In any other circumstance, I’d ridicule this pathetic performance.

  Liam continues. ‘I checked Priscilla’s mobile afterwards and couldn’t believe the lying minx had called you. I smashed the phone with the same brick that obliterated her skull. This time it’s fair to label it as murder. With Kelly, it was seizing an opportunity. Priscilla had to die. When I saw the bricks for the café’s extension, nostalgia took a hold. It was fitting to kill Priscilla similarly to Kelly.’

  I feign apathy by looking at my feet. Dad tries his best not to wince at the sordid details. We’re both aware Liam’s ego inflates in response to others’ terror and attention.

  Sensing he’s losing, Liam speech becomes louder and more urgent. ‘A brick in the head requires a few bashes. It’s not as complete as dropping a boulder. Priscilla took a while to die.’

  ‘I don’t understand how no one heard,’ I say.

  ‘I muffled her like I did with Constance’s mutt, Scruff. Apt, really. Priscilla was an old dog too.’ He snorts at his joke. ‘She thought I was embracing her. I did what needed to be done and threw the body into the bins. Afterwards, I retrieved a spare set of clothes and shoes from my gym bag, cleaned up with wipes, and changed behind Mabel’s Parlour. I’m always prepared. Mercedes was satisfied when I lit a bonfire at home. I got round to burning up the garden waste she’d been nagging about and the evidence with it. The only inconvenience was smashing the brick to dust first.’

  Being near him makes me feel sick. I contemplate if Dad’s wondering how he spawned such an abomination.

  ‘The moral of this tale, boys and girls,’ Liam adopts a childish voice, ‘is to never blackmail or demand anything of Liam Taylor. Naughty females learn this lesson hard. Once upon a time there lived a girl called Kelly. Now she is no more, for trying to force Liam into a family situation. Priscilla met her demise because she tried to make Liam tell his secrets. And then there was…’

  Dad finally speaks. ‘Who?’

  ‘Why, Daddy dearest, you’ve woken up. I’m pleased you’ve joined in because you’re going to love this. Guess who else died because of me?’

  ‘No, Liam. Not her.’ Dad rises.

  I haven’t been part of their lives for a long time. What’s passing between them is strange and unnerving.

  Liam claps. ‘Yes. I killed off Mother too.’

  Dad lunges forward and connects with Liam’s palm. Dad hits the floor. Liam pins him there with his foot. Satisfied with having a literally captive audience, Liam resumes his story.

  75

  14th April 2012

  Liam resented the charade of Saturday afternoons with Patricia. From the moment she discovered he’d killed Kelly, Patricia imposed a list of rules upon him. If he disobeyed, she would turn him in to the police.

  Liam despised his mother. After she related Mandy’s confession, from witnessing Kelly’s death, Patricia left him to agonise over it for a few weeks. With every knock on the door, Patricia quipped the police had arrived to take one of the Taylors away.

  Now, he waited for Patricia to bring in the tea and cakes. She seated him in this very place, two weeks after Kelly’s death, to share her knowledge that he’d fathered her child. Liam forgot nothing escaped his mother’s notice.

  The day after Kelly died, Patricia shook Liam from sleep, and said she knew he murdered Kelly Pratt. She exited the room and left Liam in torment. A fortnight later, Patricia mentioned the baby. Liam had been careless in not considering Mandy would have overheard. Patricia demanded no one must ever know. She was incensed he’d had sex with Kelly, let alone impregnated her. Patricia ended the rant with how Liam had done everyone a favour in removing Kelly and her bastard child. The list of conditions was then set.

  He married Mercedes when she was eighteen and he was twenty. Resigned to obeying Patricia, Liam played the doting husband for a while. Then the affairs and slaps to keep his wife in order began. Hope was born. Like his mother, Liam wanted a boy. Two years later, Faith came along.

  Patricia entered, carrying a tray holding a porcelain teapot, doilies, and a cake stand. ‘Shall I be Mother?’ She giggled at the lame joke as she poured tea.

  Liam didn’t respond. He would only offend. Instead he swallowed a mouthful of fruit cake before he began his speech. ‘It’s great we’re doing this, Mother, because there’s something I want to tell you.’

  Patricia brushed a crumb from his lip. He imagined biting the tip off her finger and watching the blood spurt.

  ‘I’ve been an obedient son. No one could love you more than I do.’ Liam noted her joy and hammed it up some more. ‘Having you steering my life has made me the man I am today.’

  Patricia straightened. ‘All you needed was discipline, direction, and a lot of affection.’

  ‘You saved me from prison.’ He instantly regretted the error. Any mention of 1987 was taboo.

  ‘Darling, we don’t talk about that.’ Her shoulders rose. ‘It’s taken care of. I’ve even used it to my advantage recently.’

  ‘You better not have told anyone.’ The doting son act slipped.

  ‘Only your father, but he’ll keep quiet. I’ve made sure of it.’

  Liam stood, knocking over a full cup of tea. Patricia raced to the kitchen and returned with a cloth.

  ‘Look what you’ve done.’ She scrubbed the spillage. ‘I’ll never get the stain out of this rug. It’s cashmere.’

  Liam stomped around the room. ‘Stuff the rug. Why did you tell Father?’

  Patricia continued to clean. ‘Can you believe he was leaving me?’

  Liam could.

  ‘Yesterday, he had the audacity to detail my alleged faults and then demand a divorce,’ Patricia said. ‘I set him straight, relating how his precious Jennifer had hurt Kelly. It led to mentioning what you did.’

  Liam stepped towards her. Still kneeling, she retreated from the stain. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d tried to attack her. This time Liam looked set to kill.

  Sweat trickled down Patricia’s back and spiked across her forehead. Liam loomed over her. She crawled from the floor to the sofa.

  ‘Please, lay off me. I don’t feel well,’ Patricia said.

  ‘Couldn’t you have made Father think Jennifer killed Kelly?’ Liam shouted. ‘Why did you tell him it was me?’

  ‘He needed to understand I know everything. I have the control.’ The effort of the outburst made Patricia pause. She brought a hand to her chest.

  Liam reddened. ‘I’m leaving Mercedes and ge
tting out of this dump. I should have gone years ago, but you blackmailed me into staying. No more. I’m done with you too.’

  ‘I only wanted the best for you.’

  Liam’s nose almost touched Patricia’s. ‘You’ve suffocated me by manipulating every move. You’re too much. I detest you and never want to see you again.’

  ‘You’ll hate me a whole lot more when I tell the police what you did to Kelly.’

  He dragged Patricia to her feet. Patricia grimaced.

  Liam grasped her arms. ‘Don’t threaten me, woman. You’ll regret it.’

  ‘I’m really not well.’

  He ignored the sweat running down Patricia’s cheeks. ‘Nice try, Mother. I’m not indulging your hypochondria.’

  She wriggled from his grip. ‘You will never leave me. I’ll tell everyone what you did.’

  …

  Later, Liam couldn’t say for certain that he’d recognised Patricia was having a heart attack. In that moment, her threat was the final blow. He let go of her.

  Patricia crashed into the glass table. Cakes crushed beneath her. The teapot upended. Liam was mesmerised by his immaculate mother, made grubby. He stepped over her body. As he stood at the lounge door, he sought confirmation of death. Patricia lay lifeless on the floor, covered in buttercream and sponge, and bordered by shattered glass.

  Liam returned home, deciding there was no longer any rush to leave. Patricia Taylor’s rule had ended. The queen was dead. Long live her prince.

  Liam Taylor was in charge.

  76

  Present

  Throughout Liam’s telling of his role in Mum’s death, Dad has blasted out a string of choice oaths. Liam laughed.

  I may not have liked Mum, but letting her die wasn’t right. Liam awaited a response when he explained what happened, expecting my allegiance. Lusts for control and killing blind him to the truth. I never rewarded her abuse with violence, no matter how close I came to it. I look at the floor where Mum died.