‘Scripture is populated by people who struggled,’ said Thelma, eyes warily on those stubby fingers. ‘Adam, Eve, King David. Saint Peter, betraying Jesus.’
‘I worked in a prison once,’ said Caro, gazing mesmerised at the knife. She seemed almost to be speaking to herself. ‘It was a very …’ she paused as she selected the right word ‘… rich experience. And the men there – all of them – they owned whatever it was they had done. Whatever their attitude to their crime, they knew it was a crime.’ Her eyes met Thelma’s. ‘Neville Hilton. I wonder if he really ever knew the pain he caused?’ Her knuckles whitened as she gripped the knife. ‘I need to know,’ she said. ‘I need to know that on some level that man understood the havoc he wrought.’
Suddenly she looked down at her hand. An expression of horrified surprise flashed across her face as she snatched her hand back as if the knife were burningly hot. The moment seemed to shock her back to some semblance of normalcy.
‘Thelma,’ she said in a normal if rather shaky voice. ‘Thelma, thank you for your time, but I need to be going.’
At the front door she paused, eyes pleading. ‘Please, Thelma,’ she said. ‘Please – leave us alone.’
Thelma watched the retreating figure walking down CollegeGardens until she was out of sight. A thought crossed her mind, and she reached round the lintel and pressed the doorbell. Instantly the hall was flooded with a pealing double chime. And yet Caro said the bell wasn’t working …
With shaking hands, Liz opened up the food diary on her laptop. Shocked – almost tearful even – she typed ‘TWO BAGS VEGAN MOMENTS’ into the entry for the day before. A low rumble from the direction of the dining room told her that the online meeting of the Boroughbridge Climate Change Direct Action Group was still in progress. There’d be no point in even trying to talk to Jacob until it had finished.
He’d been so angry! Liz had thought as he’d become older, he would grow out of those volcanic episodes the family termed ‘Jacob’s meltdowns’ – but no … On learning what she’d done he’d stared at her, eyes wide with a bewildered outrage that had taken both of them by surprise.
‘Grandma!Don’t youknowhow much sugar there is inone singlelittle Vegan Moment?’
Liz hadn’t, but he had and had proceeded to tell her in an outraged squawk. He’d also know how much sugar there was in one hundred grams of them, and how much therefore there was in the two bags Liz had scoffed down the night before. ‘Gazillions, Grandma! And your beta cells have to hooverallthat up out if your bloodstream!’
Had she been silly to own up? But then – he had asked her directly, a suspicious gleam in his eye, and lying to her grandson’s face was something she found she simply couldn’t do.
Liz sighed, staring unseeingly at the grids of the food diary. She was shaking and upset in a way she hadn’t been after either of her run-ins with Ffion Hilton. Throughout Jacob’s many childhood meltdowns Liz had always found herself a step back, hardly ever the target and always, always the rock of security and stability to which he’d eventually turn and cling to. This almost savage angertowards her was something new and frightening; now she was the one who wanted someone to cling to.
Why had he been so angry? Was it maybe some worry about being in year 6? Or some fallout with the Boroughbridge Climate Change Direct Action Group? Or was it something else? Something to do with his parents perhaps? Of one thing she was sure – behind these meltdowns there was always some underlying reason responsible for triggering his violent operas of rage. And for him to lose it with her like that … it must be something significant.
How much longer would this meeting go on for? The rumbling from the conservatory had grown slightly higher in pitch, telling Liz that now Anna-Marie Lister-Brooks, self-appointed leader of BCCDAG was having her say about something and Anna-Marie was someone who liked to make her points long and loud. Ms Lister-Brooks was a person obviously destined for a life of confrontation; only a few months ago she’d had to be forcibly removed from a pelican crossing in Boroughbridge where she’d been lying down in a protest against proposals for fracking.
Liz sighed in frustration. She needed to talk to Jacob, see if he’d calmed down. Derek always said where Jacob’s meltdowns were concerned the trick was to ride out the storm and wait for calmer waters, but how could she tell if this storm had abated if she couldn’t talk to him? At the thought of her husband, she glanced upwards listening for the noise of his post-run shower. When he was done, she’d need to talk to him and tell him the sad story of what had happened, see if he knew of anything bothering him.
The noise of her phone ringing was such a welcome diversion from these unhappy thoughts, that she only vaguely registered it was an unknown number as she answered.
‘Is that Liz? Plant lady Liz?’ The voice was familiar. ‘It’s Sidrah, from Hollinby Quernhow – you came by the other day.’
‘Yes of course! You sent me the CCTV film – thank you so much! Is everything okay?’
‘To be truthful I’m not sure, Liz.’ The voice was troubled and urgent. ‘I’m a bit bothered about Ffion Hilton and couldn’t think who else to ring. But you know her—’
Liz thought of those two fraught encounters. ‘I wouldn’t say know her as such,’ she said.
But Sidrah was talking again, her voice even more troubled. ‘The thing is, Liz – I think something’s happened to her.’
Chapter Twenty-four
Friday 25th July
From the Thirsk and Ripon Green Fingers Gang Facebook Page:
It’s best to water first thing in the morning or late at night, as when the sun shines on water it can act like a magnifying glass, burning the leaves below. And remember that hosepipe ban! Watering cans only, folks!
Thelma was sitting at her kitchen table. Once again, set before her were the books and prompt cards of the Highway Code and her laptop was open showing two androgynous purple cartoon characters promising an Easy-Peasy Guide to Highway Awareness. From the windowsill Snaffles regarded the two figures with grim, determined purpose.
Focus!She needed to forget – or rather put to one side – the complexities of the afternoon’s events and concentrate on the complexities that represented the Highway Code.
She took a determined breath.Speed– that seemed a relevant place to start … There were sections in both books on the subject, plus a whole swathe of prompt cards. She picked one up.
What is the speed limit for cars towing a trailer on a single carriageway road?
She sighed bleakly.No idea!But then did she need to know that? They hadn’t had a caravan in tow since that disastrous week in Alnwick some thirty years ago.
