Mummy's Favourite Page 11

  There was a pause, in which Jake seemed to summon every last scrap of energy to let out the loudest scream yet.

  ‘What flowers?’ Greg’s voice sounded surprised.

  ‘The ones in the porch...’

  The phone fell from her shoulder and clattered down on to the floor. She let go of both her children. Jasmin screamed back at Jake who succeeded in yanking the remote control from her hand and ran towards the TV. Jasmin lunged after him.

  Annabel clutched her chest and breathed deeply, panic bubbling back up her throat. She ran to the front door and pushed the sliding latch into place before leaning with her back to the door and bursting into tears.

  Not again. Please not again!

  *

  He heard the latch slide noisily into place and smiled. It didn’t matter. He knew the best ways in, with or without an invite.

  She was just playing hard to get.

  He had seen her delight at the flowers and knew that she loved them. Who wouldn’t? They were outdoors flowers, meant to be grown out in the countryside in quiet places. In just the sort of place he planned to take her. He imagined her naked, her body lying amongst the long grass, her mouth open slightly inviting his lips to cover hers.

  He pulled the panties out of his pocket and held them to his face, stroking their softness around his cheeks and inhaling their smell.

  It wouldn’t be long. It couldn’t be long. He wanted her now. He wanted her so fucking much it hurt.

  Chapter 17

  Meg was waiting at her flat when Charlie returned home that evening. She pulled herself forward on the settee as if to stand.

  ‘Hi Mum. To what do I owe this pleasure?’ Charlie leant over and kissed her mother.

  ‘Hope you don’t mind me letting myself in. Just checking you’re not overdoing things now you’re back at work. It’s still not that long since you were out of hospital.’ Meg paused. ‘You look tired.’

  ‘I’m fine, Mum, honest. Just an early start and busy on that missing person case. Stay there, I’ll get myself a drink.’ She decided it was definitely in her best interest not to mention the robbery incident from the night before. She knew what Meg was like. She’d worry even more, and she had enough on her plate dealing with her two sisters at the moment. Her mother followed her into the kitchen, watching as she poured herself a lager from the fridge. She saw her mother’s shoulders stiffen slightly.

  ‘Long day! Are you all right for a drink?’

  Meg nodded. ‘Yes thanks. Got myself a cup of tea while I waited for you.’

  She caught the slight criticism. Her mother was extra-sensitive and overly protective about their well-being, always had been. Everything that went into their bodies had to be healthy: fresh food, natural products, no cigarettes or drugs and only small amounts of alcohol. It was as if their whole world would come crashing down if they dared to let their bodies be exposed to anything harmful; ever, even once.

  Her attitude seemed overdramatic to Charlie but then she knew little of her mother’s background and even less of her blood father’s. Meg clammed up at any mention of her own childhood and early years. All she knew was that her mother had been born in Scotland, but after Charlie’s arrival and the birth of a younger brother, Jamie, their father had abandoned them and Meg had moved to London. Apart from having the name Iain Frazer on her birth certificate, Charlie knew nothing else about her birth father. Meg refused point blank to go into any further detail. She’d even taken elocution classes to lessen the strength of her accent to nothing more than a slight Scottish burr in order to forget. Charlie and her sisters knew better than to ask these days. Their lives began at their mother’s arrival in London.

  Meg had eventually married Harry Stafford when Charlie was six years old and life had been comfortable. Harry earned good money as an insurance broker and Charlie, Jamie and Meg moved to their present family home in Surrey. Those years were the happiest, full of laughter and adventure, exploring the country-side, getting into scrapes. It was a Wednesday when she was eleven years old that it ended and they were all, her mother especially, plunged into chaos. Tragedy has a way of making people’s lives shrink. If blame can be attached, then even that small world contracts. Meg’s life narrowed to such an extent that she fixated on having more children to fill the void. Lucy and Beth were born within a few years, but even their arrival wasn’t enough. Meg resorted to silence; Harry resorted to drink, and after a few years his remedy was to jump into the arms of another woman; loud, brash and also an alcoholic.

  Meg coped. She would always cope, but she changed. Her three daughters became her life-blood. She was strong but silent, meeting every challenge head on, not afraid to fight. Barely concealed beneath the surface, however, Charlie recognized her mother’s fear, genuine and raw. She had lost so much. She couldn’t lose again. They both had. Charlie just wished they could talk about it.

  She took a swig of the lager.

  ‘Don’t worry, Mum. I’m only having one.’ One can was as much as she ever wanted, but she had the feeling that just because Harry had turned to booze Meg always feared that she would too. She decided to change the subject.

  ‘How’s Lucy getting on with revision? Organized as usual?’ Lucy was, at seventeen years old, the elder of her two sisters. She was hoping to go into nursing, but unlike the olden days when you learned on the job, she now had to do a three-year degree. She had just started her A-level course and needed good grades.

  ‘Lucy’s always organized. You know that. She has her schedule written down and never deviates from it. It’s hard work though. If I don’t have her meals ready within her allotted time slots she gets all stressed and won’t eat. The weight’s dropping off her and she hasn’t any to lose in the first place.’

  ‘You should make her cook her own then; she’s going to have to anyway when she goes to uni next year.’

  ‘Just like you do, Charlie?’ Meg pulled open a cupboard door to reveal a couple of packets of dry pasta, three tins of baked beans and some Shreddies. She went towards the fridge, which Charlie knew contained little more than the remainder of a four-pack of lager and half a dozen ready meals.

  ‘OK point taken. I really must go shopping. How’s Beth with her GCSEs?’

  Her mother stepped back.

  ‘Oh the usual. The whole world is against her, especially me. She likes the idea of a revision schedule but spends more time creating and recreating the timetable rather than actually doing the revision. When I try to point this out gently, I just get a whole heap of hurt thrown at me.’

  ‘Well you’re welcome to escape up here if you need a break. I love them both to death, but I have to say it was as much as I could take listening to it all the time,, when I was just out of hospital. The nearer it gets to GCSEs and A levels, the worse it’s likely to become.’

  ‘Well I might just do that if it gets too bad, and I can check you’re looking after yourself properly at the same time too.’

  She knew how highly charged the family home was at the moment and she certainly didn’t want to add to her mother’s worries. If she looked tired, it was because she was tired but Meg didn’t need to know.

  ‘You don’t need to worry about me. I’m a big girl now.’ She pulled her stomach in and squeezed at the muffin top that would never quite shift. ‘A bit too big!’

  Meg cuffed her across the top of her head.

  ‘Go on with you. You need to stop worrying about your shape. Just don’t take on too much until you are completely fit again. I’ve made dinner, by the way.’

  ‘Thanks, Mum. I noticed. It certainly smells good.’

  Meg started busying herself by the cooker. She’d already prepared most of a coq au vin but was just adding the dressing to a mixed salad and sprinkling on some croutons.

  ‘Did I tell you I asked for a new placement at work?’ Meg lifted the top off a casserole dish and stirred the bubbling juices. Charlie leant forward, grabbed a spoon and lifted a piece of chicken out, for which she received a sma
rt rap across her knuckles with a wooden spatula.

  ‘Ow! No, what new placement?’ She wasn’t really listening. She was thinking about how she could get another spoonful without her mother noticing.

  ‘I’m helping out at a school, most days at the moment, working with a couple of teenage boys with special needs. I thought I needed a challenge, so I phoned the school offering my services. Plus I’m enjoying being around loads of kids again, seeing as you’ve left home and your sisters spend most of their time in their room or plugged into Twitter or Facebook. It’s difficult to get more than a few words out of them at the best of times, unless they’re moaning.’

  ‘You must be mad. I can’t think of anything worse than working with teenagers.’

  She grabbed a shallot and popped it straight into her mouth, wincing as the boiling juices burnt her tongue.

  Meg turned, shaking her head at her as Charlie tried to suck some air into her mouth to cool down the onion.

  ‘Serves you right!’ Meg thrust a couple of plates into her hands. ‘It won’t be for too long. Just long enough to get the boys on the straight and narrow again. It makes a nice change for me. I was thinking I might even go back to my nursing at some point, now you girls are older, but I’d have to do a course to re-train.’ Meg wiped the surface down where the spoon had dripped. ‘Now. Best you start serving up while there’s still some left.’

  ‘Mum, thanks for this. It looks and tastes great. You’re a lifesaver. I was thinking on my way home that I didn’t know what to do for dinner tonight.’

  Meg turned and held the bowl of salad towards her.

  ‘Mum, I was hoping... did you want to come with me this Wednesday? I was thinking of taking some flowers…’

  A look of panic shot across Meg’s face. She stopped in her tracks for the briefest of seconds, her eyes closed tightly in silent agony, her hands balled into fists.

  She unclenched her fingers and lifted some cutlery, studiously avoiding making eye contact with Charlie.

  ‘Take that across to the table, love, and let’s have dinner. I’m starving.’

  Charlie took the cutlery from her mother’s hands, immediately deflated. The answer was the same, as always.

  Chapter 18

  The Silver Merc swung precariously back and forth for a few minutes, its chassis creaking and groaning, and a small cascade of pebbles from the driveway showered down from the tyre treads. It slowed to almost a stop before coming to rest in the exact spot the crane operator wanted on the flatbed lorry.

  ‘Incredible! I don’t know how you aim it so accurately,’ Charlie watched, quietly satisfied, as the operator jumped out of the cab and started to pull straps round the wheels.

  It was only just gone 8 a.m. on Monday morning but the sun was shining brightly and birds flitted from branch to branch. All around, the neighbourhood was grinding into motion, parents chivvying bad-tempered children, still tired after the Easter break, into cars for school.

  Justin Latchmere stood, flanked by two uniformed officers, watching his car, his jaw clenched in barely concealed rage. He said nothing, obviously knowing only too well that she, Hunter and the rest of the officers swarming around his house and gardens were there mainly because of his own arrogance and deceipt. With Dana’s information about his friendship with Julie, and Justin’s lies about knowing her, they’d easily had enough to warrant arresting him on suspicion of her possible abduction.

  ‘Are these really necessary, officer?’ He raised his arms towards one of his guards, indicating the metal handcuffs clamped around his wrists.

  Charlie sauntered over to him, biting her lip to stop herself smiling at his righteous overtures.

  ‘Well. You have been arrested for a violent crime, one of the most violent in fact. I’m sure we have all the justification we need.’

  Just to make a point, Charlie took hold of the handcuffs and pulled them up to her eye level, checking how close-fitting they were with her finger, while at the same time jiggling them round a bit. Justin winced in discomfort.

  ‘They’re not too tight, are they?’

  He pursed his lips, his expression as dark as thunder.

  Hunter joined her and they both walked away towards the house. She could feel his eyes boring into her back but she had no sympathy for him.

  ‘How’s it going inside?’

  Hunter shrugged. ‘It’ll take most of the week to get it all done, but at least it’s started.’

  ‘I wouldn’t like to see the place when the search team are all through with it.

  ‘I’m sure the housekeeper will cope.’

  ‘I do feel a little sorry for Dana and the kids being dragged into this.’

  ‘Charlie! I never thought I’d hear you expressing sympathy for anyone connected with Justin Latchmere! You must be softening in your old age.’ Hunter shrugged his shoulders. ‘Dana knew exactly what she was getting into and has made her choice.’

  Charlie glanced towards the house and raised her eyebrows. ‘It’s still a lot to give up. I don’t blame Dana for sticking it out, especially when she knew she’d be in for a fight for every penny.’

  ‘Her bed.’

  She looked back at Justin who was still staring in their direction and shook her head.

  ‘Well, all I can say is give her her due, I certainly wouldn’t like to be sleeping in her bed, especially with that lying, cheating bastard.’

  *

  Having kept them waiting while he had a lengthy legal consultation, Justin Latchmere was at last ready.

  He’d been booked in a Brixton police station and was sitting in the interview room, tapping his foot impatiently, his fingers drumming against the weave of his expensive trousers. Charlie read over the introductions and cautioned him.

  There was nothing he was going to say.

  A prepared statement was all they were to get.

  He pushed it across the table towards them. She picked it up and knew they would get nothing more from him, although of course they would still have to try. The words were written in Justin’s own handwriting. Each paragraph started and ended with a flourish, the first letter accentuated with a large flowing capital and the last with a long swirling tail. The rest of the writing was neat, with all the letters the same height and width apart, and Charlie couldn’t help thinking how similar to his personality the handwriting seemed; very controlled and orderly but with the odd ostentatious gesture. She picked the statement up and held it so that both she and Hunter could read it together. It was short and to the point.

  I, Justin Latchmere acknowledge that I did know Julie Hubbard and made an error of judgment in falsely saying I did not know her. She is the mother of one of the boys who attends my son’s school and we met through the school and conducted a purely platonic friendship.

  I have no knowledge of her disappearance or any of the circumstances pertaining to it. I have not harmed Julie or her son in any way.

  I last saw her one evening at the end of March, about one week before her disappearance, when we met up in my car and went for a drive out into the country-side in Surrey. We stopped at a small pub called The Royal Oak, by the village green in Brockham, and had a couple of drinks and chatted. I dropped her home later that same evening. After that, we spoke several times on my mobile during the course of the week.

  She was not happy at home and told me she had problems with her husband, who could become violent. She spoke of leaving him but was worried that he would cause trouble and she would have nowhere to live with the children. I was not aware of any imminent move but circumstances can change quickly.

  I have not seen or heard from Julie since that last phone call, two days before her disappearance.

  There is nothing more I wish to discuss about my relationship with Julie Hubbard and there is nothing more I can assist with in regards to her location now.

  ‘So,’ Charlie started forcefully. ‘Why did you lie to us about whether you knew Julie Hubbard?’

  ‘No comment.’


  ‘Was it because your relationship with Julie was much more than simply platonic?’

  ‘No comment.’

  ‘Were you conducting a full-blown affair with Julie?’

  ‘No comment.’

  ‘We’ve spoken to your wife, Dana, as I’m sure she’s told you and she seems to think you were?’

  Justin narrowed his eyes slightly. ‘No comment.’

  ‘She says that you’ve had many affairs during your marriage, which she doesn’t like but has come to accept, and this is another of your affairs.’

  ‘No comment.’

  ‘But this one had been going on for longer than most.’

  ‘No comment.’

  ‘Were you getting a bit too attached to Julie?’

  ‘No comment.’

  ‘Or was she getting too attached to you?’

  ‘No comment.’

  ‘Cramping your style?’

  ‘No comment.’

  ‘Causing problems?’

  ‘No comment.’

  ‘Did it cause an argument?’

  ‘No comment.’

  ‘Or a fight?’

  ‘No comment.’

  ‘Did it all go a bit too far?’

  ‘No comment.’

  ‘Something happen that you didn’t mean to happen?’

  ‘No comment.’

  She could see Justin’s composure beginning to slip. He was trying to seem blasé and unconcerned, sitting back, arms folded, that slight, smug smile glued to his face, but she could see the tell-tale signs that it was all beginning to get too much. His breath was becoming rapid, a slight tic was appearing at the corner of his mouth as the questions were getting more searching and his right leg twitched independently of the rest of his body. Hunter had obviously noticed too. He was waiting for her to come in for the kill.

  ‘Was she threatening to expose you?’

  ‘No comment.’

  ‘And it all came on top?’

  ‘No comment.’

  ‘Justin, did you kill her?’