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  “Gordon is on his way in later with them. Thanks. But I could do with something to chew on. The tablets I’m on are making my mouth taste foul. Some fruit pastilles, perhaps. Or wine gums would be nice.”

  Ruth’s lip quirked up at one corner.

  “What did I say?”

  “Your mouth tastes foul. As in chicken – fowl. As in the fertiliser truck that you hit.” Madeline’s mind wasn’t computing so Ruth filled in the gaps for her. “You hit a chicken shit truck.” Ruth was laughing now and Madeline began to laugh along with her.

  “Oh I see – fowl.” She giggled, despite herself. The meds must be making her loopy. “Yes, very funny. I saw a short report in the paper. I guess I made a mess, eh?”

  “Oh, that you did, that you did. You should see some of the jokes on the site – every chicken shit joke you could think of. Some of them have been quite funny actually.”

  “Great. I’m glad I’m able to brighten someone’s day,” Madeline said, sarcastically, her good mood evaporating as quickly as it had come. She was fed up already at being in a hospital bed and desperately wanted to go home. But on the upside, at least she’d had some time to do some thinking, with all the hanging around, and she’d thought a lot about Ruth. Perhaps her own near-death experience had brought it to the surface. Madeline took the pause in conversation to change to another subject, one a long way away from herself.

  “Ruth,” she said tentatively.

  “Oh-oh. This sounds ominous.”

  “I’ve been thinking while I’ve been in here, and thinking about you.” Ruth looked a little concerned now and Madeline did her best to lighten what was about to be quite a serious moment, one that could backfire or go well. With a slightly embarrassed smile she carried on. “I just wanted to say, I know about your girlfriend, Ruth, and your dad and I are fine with it.”

  There: she’d said it directly. There could be no mistake about what she was referring to. She watched as Ruth’s face drained of all colour. Madeline ploughed on, rephrasing it slightly just to be sure as she got the message on the second try.

  “What I’m trying to say, Ruth, is I know about your blonde female friend. And you. And your dad and I are absolutely fine with it. I think I’ve known for some time, actually, but I’d always hoped you’d finally say something yourself one day.” Madeline paused for a moment then carried on a little more. “I’ve seen you two together, actually. Amanda, I believe her name is.”

  That caught Ruth’s attention. “How do you know her name?”

  It wasn’t really the first question Madeline had expected Ruth to ask, but she answered, “She’s a detective, right? She came round to ask me some questions when that landscaper first went missing. Remember his digger at the house?”

  Ruth nodded, but didn’t say anything further.

  “So what I’m saying, what your father and I are saying, actually, is we are fine with it all. Really we are. It’s your life – you do what makes you happy. It’s for no one to interfere with. Not us, not anybody. I just wanted to let you know in case you’d been worrying about ever telling us.”

  The air around Madeline’s bed was heavy with silence as Madeline waited for Ruth to say something more.

  “You surprise me, Madeline. I thought you would be the old-fashioned type, the type to disown me for bringing the family name into disrepute. Not that we actually have the same family name, but you know what I mean. Disown me perhaps. I know others have had that experience.”

  “Well, I’m not others, and give me some credit. Old-fashioned, eh? Cheeky sod,” she smiled, her eyes catching Ruth’s as she smiled too.

  “Well, some would say it’s not what ‘the family’ would approve of,” Ruth continued, “and plenty of people would be pissed that there might not be grandchildren in quite the same way. You know, be totally selfish and make it their problem when it really needn’t be a problem at all.” She’d obviously been thinking about what they might have said had she told them herself.

  Madeline carried it on. “Grandchildren aren’t the be all and end all, and anyway, there are ways to do that should you choose to. I’m sure you’re aware of that already. And you’re forgetting we have two grown sons as well, so I’m sure there will be little feet running round to spoil one day.” She paused, then added, “Unless they are both gay too, of course.” Ruth burst out laughing, raising the eyebrows of the nurse nearby, and they both got the message to quiet down.

  Then she did something neither of them quite expected: she leant over and gave Madeline a hug. Probably one of only a handful in the time they’d known one another, but it was a hug nonetheless, and it felt good. And a long time overdue. Madeline couldn’t have felt happier.

  “So what does Dad say? About knowing, I mean.”

  “He was a little shocked when I first mentioned it, but you know your dad – Mr. Laidback. Unless it concerns Crystal Palace, then it’s something to get upset about,” she said, smiling again. But no, he’s absolutely fine. I think he just thought you were too busy for men, but now we know. We’re both glad you have someone in your life. Are you happy?”

  “I am, yes. And yes, she’s with the police and we live near each other. She’s a lovely woman, actually, though I don’t expect you saw that side of her if she was working. She’s very focused.”

  Agree with you there.

  “I don’t remember too much about the interview, to tell you the truth. I don’t suppose I was much help to her. The guy just left suddenly.” Well, that was the truth. “Did they ever find him, do you know?”

  “Not that I’ve heard, but Amanda would know, I expect. Why don’t you ask her?”

  “I will, yes.” Ruth looked thoughtful for a moment, then added, “You go out to the garden centre, the one on the Wickham road, don’t you?”

  “Yes, all the time. Why?” Odd question to ask.

  “Remember that crash a couple of weeks ago, where the guy turned his van over?” She had Madeline’s full attention. “I saw on The Daisy Chain that he’d died, complications with his injuries and undiagnosed diabetes apparently.”

  Madeline could feel the colour drain from her own face as she zoned out. That meant another one added to her ever-growing list: it was now three.

  “Madeline? Madeline? Are you okay?”

  Madeline could hear her but she had gone into dumb mode once more, her brain whirring but nothing coming out of her mouth. It took a few moments for the news to sink in and for her to respond.

  “Oh dear, that’s so sad,” she finally managed. “Perhaps if he’d been wearing his seatbelt... though I was, and look at me lying here.” She wafted her good arm over the hospital bed. Was she sounding convincing? “You just never know what will happen next.”

  Her thoughts drifted back to that hot day in the car wash, and she felt ashamed at what she’d done to his tyre. It was supposed to be for a bit of a laugh and a lot of inconvenience. It was never meant to kill him. And it had been the same with James – just a bit of fun, and that had gone wrong too. She wondered about all the other ‘bits of fun’ she’d organised and wondered if any of those had also backfired – that she didn’t know of yet.

  But why had Ruth mentioned it? Did she suspect something, and if so, what exactly? Glancing at Ruth, who was looking directly at her, she couldn’t quite read what was on her face, but there was something. Doubt, maybe? Was she putting events together and connecting them all to Madeline? Had she noticed there were too many connections? But why would she think of Madeline? Was she being silly? Paranoid? There were too many questions she couldn’t answer. It was time to change the subject to something completely different and put an end to the doubt – for the time being.

  “So when are you off to France to see your other mother?” Madeline said cheerily.

  Chapter Sixty-Six

  Week 8

  Sunday

  “Just feel that sunshine on your face, Madeline. Isn’t it wonderful?” Ruth was sitting on the patio with her face tilted up towards
the sunshine on another beautiful summer day. They’d had a lovely lunch. Gordon had cooked steak on the barbecue to go with the coleslaw and potato salad he’d made earlier in the day under Madeline’s supervision. Ruth had brought a bottle of rosé and a baked lemon cheesecake from M&S, and they were all stuffed. Gordon had retired inside to watch the match he’d recorded but was probably asleep in his chair; football for him was really just an excuse to doze off in peace. Madeline’s own head was laid back, also tilted to the sunshine, which was warm without being too hot, and it felt great.

  “Mmmm, lovely. I’m just glad to be out of that hospital and back home with some real food, and I’m absolutely stuffed full. I shouldn’t have forced that last bit of cheesecake in. Or was it the last mouthful of wine that did it?” She giggled like a teenager, and she could hear Ruth giggling too,. Obviously they’d both had enough to drink.

  Since that day about a week ago by Madeline’s hospital bed, when she had told Ruth that she already knew about her and Amanda, there had been a definite shift in their relationship. Gordon and Madeline still hadn’t invited Amanda to their home. On Madeline’s part it was due mainly to the fact that there was a dead body in the garden, and had nothing whatsoever to do with Ruth and Amanda’s sexual orientation. Madeline just wasn’t ready to let Detective Amanda Lacey get too close when she might still be a suspect in several deaths. But Ruth and Madeline were now both more relaxed with each other, and that unexpected hug she’d given Madeline in hospital was still vivid in her memory, a memory she hoped would become a reality again sometime soon. She’d have to wait for Ruth on that one.

  Opening one eye against the bright sunshine, Madeline turned to look at Ruth, knowing she would have her eyes closed in the sun. She was a female version of Gordon in her looks: she had the same oval face and the same hazel-brown eyes, and her short wavy hair was the same light brown as his had been when they’d first met, before the salt and pepper had taken over. The sunshine picked out the lighter highlights Ruth occasionally added in. With a light summer tan, she really was a striking woman.

  That was where the similarities ended, though. Where Gordon was placid, Ruth was fiery; where Gordon was average height and soft around the middle, Ruth was tall and athletic and firm, spending her free time running rather than watching footy. But each to their own ways. Ruth cleared her throat now like she was about to say something, so Madeline resumed her position and enjoyed the sunshine for a moment longer. She wasn’t quite prepared for what Ruth said next and was glad she was already sitting down with her eyes closed.

  “You know, Madeline? I think I’ve worked something out.”

  Oh shit. What does she think she’s worked out? The Great Orange Machine? James? What?

  Madeline acted dumb. “Hmm?” Sleepily. “What have you worked out?” Her heart rate started to pick up speed and push blood around her veins a little faster. Could Ruth really know something about her antics or was she still being paranoid? Hearing her move, she assumed with her eyes still closed that Ruth was sitting up properly, giving her strength and more authority. This didn’t bode well, but she ignored the feeling as best she could. Her pulse, on the other hand, couldn’t. Ruth dived straight in.

  “All the recent goings-on – I think they’re all linked.”

  Madeline’s mind was working overtime but she didn’t move a muscle.

  Act cool, Madeline.

  “What do you mean? Which events are you talking about?” Her voice was even and casual, she hoped.

  “The missing landscaper guy, that poor chap with food poisoning, the book club man, even the crash victim on the Wickham road.” She had moved in her chair again, and Madeline could feel her direct stare even though her eyes were still firmly closed. If she’d turned towards her, Ruth would probably be able to read the ‘Yes, I know’ message that was written across her forehead. What to do? There was an empty space where neither spoke, and it needed filling.

  Stay cool.

  “What about them?” Madeline said at length.

  “I think they are all connected. There is a common theme running through them.”

  She was still staring at her; Madeline was sure of it.

  “What makes you think that? And what is the theme?”

  Ever the damn puzzle solver, what had she deduced?

  “Because they all tie back to one person, that’s what they have in common. One person came into contact with all four of them at some point. There’s just one of them that I’m not entirely sure about yet, but I will figure it out.”

  She was right, there: was she on to her?

  Madeline was starting to sweat and couldn’t blame it on a temperature tantrum this time, or the sunshine.

  “You always have been good at puzzles, so what bit can’t you figure out?”

  “How on earth that crash happened, how the person did it, or why – but then I’m asking ‘why’ about all of the incidents.” Ruth paused to let that sink in, and Madeline stayed exactly where she was, eyes still closed and melting under Ruth’s gaze, which was far hotter than the sun shining down on them both.

  Then Ruth dropped her bombshell. “So why don’t you fill me in, Madeline.”

  Oh shit.

  Madeline had to sit up and talk to her now. She’d obviously pieced things together and seen the common thread – Madeline Simpson. She sat up fully, waited till her eyes adjusted to the brightness, and turned towards Ruth. Ruth was indeed staring right at her, her eyes razor sharp, a mixture of disbelief and concern on her face. Madeline’s face must have said it all: there was no point in denying what she’d done. Ruth’s face lost some of its colour.

  “I knew I was right. Shit, Madeline! What have you been up to?” Her voice had risen a couple of decibels, but if they were going to have this conversation right then, Madeline didn’t want Gordon in on it.

  “Shhhh! Keep your voice down, will you. Why do you think it’s me?” she asked, thinking she might as well see just what it was Ruth had put together.

  “Because you were the last to see the landscaper alive. The food poisoning guy ate at Sally’s. The crash victim died on the road that you travel along to go to your favourite garden centre, and you were on your way there that day. And the book club man was your book club leader. Easy, really. Have I missed anyone out?”

  Like I’m going to tell you if you have. Blue Car Man comes to mind, as do Skinny Suit and Jordan. Oh, and the red BMW, and Pink Fluffy Woman.

  Ruth went on, “I just haven’t figured out the why, and what you’ve done with the landscaper guy. And for the record, I haven’t told anyone. Yet.”

  Well, that’s good to know, though I don’t like the ‘yet’ bit.

  “And I’m guessing that’s why you’ve not been in a hurry to invite Amanda round for lunch, her being a detective and all. In fact, she’s already been here, hasn’t she, to interview you over the landscaper, and the book club guy? You’ve already met her, and yet she has no idea who you are to me.”

  Should I come clean or carry on my charade?

  “So you think it’s me? I’m responsible for them all? Just because I seem an obvious link? Do you have any proof for these wild accusations?”

  “No, of course I don’t have any proof. But I am right, aren’t I? It is you, isn’t it?”

  Madeline avoided that question and asked one of her own. “What are you planning on doing with this notion, with no proof?”

  Ruth looked away and took a moment to answer. Sweat was beading on Madeline’s forehead and cleavage, and she wiped it away with a leftover serviette from lunch. Neither one spoke, and she wasn’t going to fill the gap this time. She held her breath until Ruth spoke again.

  “Nothing. For the moment.”

  She released her breath with a soft whoosh.

  “I’m not going to do anything. But on one condition. You tell me why, you get some help and you put a stop to anything else you have planned right here and now.” Her eyes were fiery as she spoke, as if Madeline were a naughty
schoolgirl and she was the headmistress.

  What choice did she have? She’d been caught. There was no point in denying any of it if she wanted a relationship with Ruth, and for Gordon’s sake: it would break his heart if the two of them split when they were just starting to get closer. He’d want to know why. And she didn’t want Amanda to find out.

  Madeline nodded, her eyes never leaving Ruth’s as she accepted her demand. “Okay, that’s more than fair. And thank you, but I’m curious to know why you’re not going to report me.”

  Ruth sighed in apparent resignation, that she’d been right all along and now Madeline had basically admitted it. She looked disappointed and relieved at the same time, but Madeline felt almost ill with remorse. She’d always felt that each of her actions had been justified, but now, sitting there with Ruth, she wasn’t so sure. Tears welled up in her eyes and she struggled to blink them away.

  “I would have thought that was obvious, isn’t it?” Ruth said.

  Madeline shook her head that it wasn’t.

  “You’re my bloody stepmother, Madeline. And think of Dad, for heaven’s sake. What it would do to him with you banged up inside? Jesus Christ! You can be thick sometimes.”

  Shame washed over her at the thought of Gordon again. During all the things she’d done, she’d never once given any consideration to him, about what would happen if it all came unravelled and she was caught, just how distraught he would be. She’d been totally selfish and in it for her own pleasure, just to teach a bunch of stupid annoying strangers a lesson and for her to feel like she’d won. The car park incident, the diesel in the petrol tank, all of it, even fingers in buns. She’d never set out to kill James, even though he did annoy her sometimes, or the big sod who’d made her wait at the car wash. Every single thing she had done had been in the name of spitefulness and anger. And now she’d been caught.

  As the realisation sank in, tears started to well in her eyes, and she let them roll down her cheeks. Ruth passed her a tissue from her pocket and Madeline dabbed her eyes with it. She smeared her mascara a little but didn’t really care. Ruth stood and walked over to her stepmother and wrapped her arms around her shoulders, pulling her in tight. Madeline returned the embrace, just glad in a way that someone knew, and that it was someone she could talk to.