‘Beaten?’ I ask, horrified.
‘By life,’ she clarifies. ‘She’d had such a sad childhood and then she comes here and Viola is the golden girl. ButViola was always a free spirit, wilful. She didn’t want to conform to Elspeth’s old-fashioned rules. Kathryn, on the other hand, was so eager to please. She was like a loyal puppy, the way she followed Elspeth everywhere. And then Viola fell in love with a boy Elspeth said was unsuitable and ran away with him as soon as she turned eighteen. And it was good for Kathryn, in a way, because it gave her the chance to shine. Elspeth was so angry with Viola that she told her never to darken her door again. I think she regrets that now, of course, because Viola’s stayed away. Nobody knows where she is. And I think, on some level, Elspeth always blamed Kathryn for Viola’s disappearance.’
A chill runs down my back as I let Aggie’s words sink in. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, she felt it was Kathryn’s fault Viola left. And she began to resent her. And the more she resented her, the more Kathryn tried to please. It broke my heart to see it.’
Aggie pauses, a wariness in her eyes as she assesses me. ‘You know, when Matilde started here it was obvious as soon as I saw her.’
I frown. ‘What was?’
‘How much she looked like Viola.’
The breath has been knocked out of me.
‘And Jemima. And you. You all look like her.’
The realization hits me. ‘So you’re saying Elspeth chose us because we look like the daughter who ran away?’
She nods. ‘I think so. Yes.’
‘But that’s – that’s messed up.’
We fall silent, but I can tell Aggie hasn’t finished. She pours hot water into a cup and dunks a teabag. ‘There’s something I’ve never told anyone,’ she says ominously.
I’m still reeling from the Viola revelation. ‘Okay,’ I say, as she hands me a mug. We’re talking in hushed voices even though nobody else is around.
‘The day Jemima left. I came back into the kitchen because I’d forgotten the potatoes. Elspeth said I could take them home for my tea. My Stanley dropped me off so I could pick them up. And I heard them.’
‘Who?’
‘Kathryn and Jemima. They were in the hallway and I could hear them screaming at each other.’
‘What time was it?’
‘Well, it was already dark, so I’d say about five. Five thirty.’
‘And what were they arguing about?’
She picks up her mug and clasps her meaty hands around it, but doesn’t take a sip. ‘That’s the thing. It was hard to tell, exactly. I’d come in halfway through but I heard the words “will” and “gallery”. Then I heard the front door slam and silence.’
My heart picks up speed. ‘Silence? Do you think they both went out?’
‘I can’t be certain, but I think so.’ She sips her tea thoughtfully. ‘And that was the last time I saw Jemima. I turned up for work the next day and Elspeth said Jemima had gone, taking her belongings with her.’
‘When really her belongings were in the cellar,’ I say.
Aggie nods gravely, then puts a warm hand on my arm. ‘Take the bag to the police, ducky. I can’t see what else you could do.’
25
Una
I’m alone in my room, eating a packet of Cheddars from my snack drawer. Elspeth is in bed and Aggie has left for the night. I keep mulling over what she said about Kathryn arguing with Jemima on the day she died. I wonder what happened. Did Kathryn follow Jemima that day? Did they continue their argument? How did Jemima fall off the bridge? Did Kathryn push her? Was it an accident and Kathryn was too scared to tell anyone, so she hid Jemima’s stuff and pretended she’d moved away?
I get out my phone to ring Courtney when a text comes up from an unknown number.
This is Peter. My phone broke so I had to get another, hence the new number. I’m in Clifton. Would you meet me at the bridge? We need to talk.
