Dead to Me (37 page)

‘I’m
confused, Wilby,’ Verity said. She could feel the bandage around her head; her head ached too, and her throat felt bruised. She knew that she’d been with Archie on the cliff path, but she didn’t know how it had ended and how she got back to her own bed. ‘I had the craziest dream that Miller was there.’

‘Not a crazy dream, he really was,’ Wilby laughed softly. ‘It was he who saved you and carried you back here. And it was he who dressed your head wound.’

‘But I don’t understand.’ Verity’s blue eyes looked as big as half-crowns in her confusion. ‘How could he be here?’

‘That is a long and complicated story, and right now you need sleep, or shock will set in and make you act loopy,’ Wilby said. ‘Tomorrow is soon enough for explanations, but for now all you need to know is that Miller loves you.’

Verity’s eyes widened again. ‘Really?’

‘Would I tell you something like that if it wasn’t true? Now go to sleep, and let it heal you. Rest assured, if you wake, I’ll be in the other bed in here. If you need me, just call out.’

Wilby tucked Verity in, left a night light burning and went back down to the kitchen where Ruby, Miller, Colin and Brian were sitting around the table drinking tea.

Ruby looked up. ‘I made the boys cheese on toast,’ she said. ‘In all this we forgot they hadn’t had their supper.’

‘Is Verity better now?’ Brian asked, his brown eyes
looking troubled. ‘What happened to the bad man? Have the police locked him up?’

Wilby smoothed back his hair affectionately. ‘Yes, lovey, Verity is much better and in a day or two she’ll be right back to normal. As for the bad man, Miller was a hero and saved Verity from him. He was taken away by the police and he’ll be locked up till his trial. He won’t be coming back here to scare Verity.’

She paused for a moment, knowing it must have been awful for two small boys to see Verity carried in by Miller, a man they didn’t even know, with blood dripping from her head. It was also very difficult at their age to grasp the idea that any man would want to hurt someone they loved. ‘But I want to say how good you’ve both been tonight, really grown-up and sensible, and I’m proud of you. Now I want you to go to bed quietly. I’ll come up later and tuck you in. We’ve all had enough excitement for one day.’

After they’d gone upstairs, Wilby sat down heavily, putting her head in her hands. ‘Oh dear,’ she sighed. ‘Thank God you came, Miller. It doesn’t bear thinking about what could’ve happened if you hadn’t rushed down there and saved her.’

She couldn’t possibly articulate how impressed she was by Miller. He had responded to what was a life or death situation with speed, calm and courage. He had been a real-life hero, and it was just a shame Verity hadn’t been conscious to appreciate it. One of the policemen who came back to the house afterwards to take a statement had remarked that he didn’t really know how Miller managed to climb back up that cliff with Verity in his arms. One slip and they both could have tumbled to their deaths.

‘I don’t know why everyone seems to think I saved her,’ Miller said. ‘From what I saw, Verity kicked Archie in the shins and then purposely fell backwards, taking Archie with her, in order to make him let go of the noose around her neck. In doing so she hoped she’d get a chance to scramble away. That took immense courage, because she must’ve been terrified.’

‘And she’ll have to relive it all again tomorrow when the police come back,’ Ruby said. ‘Are you sure we shouldn’t have let her go to hospital?’

Miller put a reassuring hand on her arm. ‘Obviously we’ve got to watch her closely for any sign of concussion – she was, after all, knocked out – but the reason I suggested we kept her here is because I think she’ll recover more quickly amongst her family, where she feels safe. Hospitals are very impersonal, and a little frightening. But haven’t you got something to tell us?’

Ruby looked blank.

‘Wilby told me when we were down by the cliff railway that you couldn’t come with her, because you weren’t able to walk after being hurt in an air raid. Yet when we got back here, you were standing at the door with no wheelchair, and no crutches or sticks,’ he said. ‘I suspect you were so anxious to hear about Verity that you got up without thinking.’

Wilby gasped. ‘So she did, Miller! You know I didn’t even take that in, we were all focussed on Verity.’

Ruby blushed and looked embarrassed. ‘You are very observant, Miller. I must have got out of my wheelchair and walked to the front door totally involuntarily, because I was wanting news of Verity so badly. When I did realize
what I’d done, I couldn’t bring myself to say, “Look at me!” Not under the circumstances. Besides, I nearly fell over with shock!’

Wilby beamed. ‘That is so wonderful. I hope this will convince you that your spine and legs are working perfectly again?’

Ruby stood up, and took two faltering steps away from the kitchen table, then gathered herself and walked over towards the hall. She stopped and turned. ‘My legs feel very odd, wobbly and achy with lack of use, but that will soon be put right if I use sticks for a bit to steady me. I can’t wait to tell Luke.’

‘Your sweetheart?’ Miller asked.

Ruby smiled. ‘Yes, he’s wonderful. But you don’t want me going on about him. I’ve got lots to tell you about Verity so you can catch up. I feel I know you, because she told us quite a lot about you, although I suppose most of that is out of date now too. But you aren’t like I imagined.’

Miller laughed. ‘What did you imagine? A gardener so drippy he couldn’t tell a girl that he loved her? So pathetic he even got turned down by the forces?’

‘I must confess, I did think you sounded a bit feeble,’ she admitted. She looked at his muscular biceps which seemed to be straining the sleeves of his shirt, his resolute square chin, and a face which had a weather-beaten look. He was the kind of man who would survive on a desert island, build a house, catch his own food, make a boat out of next to nothing and sail home when he felt like it. ‘How wrong could I be?’

‘I was a bit of a drip when I first met Verity,’ he admitted. ‘Forestry work toughens you up, but then I bet neither
you nor Verity are the same as you were before the war. Has anyone in England stayed the same?’

Wilby thought that Miller was quite right. The war had changed everyone to some extent. Children had to cope with so much: their fathers being away, terrifying air raids, and for those in the big cities there was often the trauma of losing their home or family members.

Women who had never needed to work before had found themselves working in factories, driving ambulances or milking cows while their husbands were away at the war. Men, many of whom had only ever done white-collar jobs, had to be turned into tough soldiers. Even those above the age of conscription who took on voluntary work as air-raid wardens or with the Civil Defence had their lives turned upside down.

Wilby didn’t feel she’d had to adapt much – having evacuees was no different to the foster children she’d had before the war – but she had been challenged by food rationing. She’d always loved to cook and had been quite extravagant with ingredients and quantities. All that had to stop, because she couldn’t get all those ingredients or the variety of food she was used to. She’d had to rely on the vegetables she grew, her chickens, and learn to be more creative with what she had to hand.

That evening, Wilby and Ruby took Miller into the sitting room and began to fill him in on some of the details about what Verity had gone through with Archie. They didn’t tell him about the burglaries, they thought it best to keep that under their hats for now. Besides, that was for Verity to disclose if she wanted to. Then they told him
about the life they had all shared since she’d come to live with them.

Ruby realized that Verity must have told him about how and why they fell out before he met her, and she felt she had to make some kind of explanation.

‘I’m sure she must have told you how we came to be estranged, and how awful I was to her,’ Ruby said, and pulled a vexed face. ‘I bet you wondered why she ever liked me?’

‘She didn’t tell me any details, only that you’d said she was dead to you. I know it did play on her mind, though, and that she missed you. But in all fairness, Ruby, every one of us is guilty of something like that. We lash out when we’re angry or hurt, often regretting it later, but we don’t know how to put it right. But when you rescued Verity from that terrible man, you wiped out anything that went before.’

Ruby suspected he knew some of the background of how it came about, and she was touched he wasn’t judgemental. ‘So what now? I mean for you and Verity.’

Miller grinned sheepishly. ‘I’m hoping for happy ever after. But realistically we’ve got a few obstacles to overcome. There’s all the catching up to do for a start, and I’ll have to go back to Scotland. Then there’s Wood’s trial. Hopefully he’ll admit the murders, but if he doesn’t and it comes to a trial by jury, Verity will be called as a witness and that’s going to be hard on her.’

‘Shame you didn’t kill him,’ Ruby said grimly. ‘That would’ve saved so much effort for the police and the courts, to say nothing of the prison service.’

‘I thought I had for a short while,’ Miller admitted. ‘He
was absolutely motionless when I climbed back up with Verity. It crossed my mind I could be in trouble too. But he was just knocked out.’

‘We all read in the paper about those other two murders,’ Wilby said. ‘Ruby spotted today’s report in the paper. We were horrified to discover he was the murderer, and worried that he was heading this way. But we didn’t imagine he was already here in Babbacombe.’

‘It’s going to be very hard for Verity to come to terms with what he’s done,’ Miller said thoughtfully. ‘I know he isn’t her real father, but she believed he was for a long time.’

Ruby nodded in agreement. ‘I know what it’s like to think you’ve got bad blood. It doesn’t help that people tell you it doesn’t matter who your mother and father were, or what they did. It’s like a little worm that gets inside your head and keeps on suggesting the badness is in you too.’

‘Now stop this, both of you,’ Wilby said firmly. ‘Verity is a sensible girl, she’ll rise above it. I know she will.’

The following morning Wilby woke to see Verity lying awake, staring at the ceiling.

‘How are you feeling?’ she asked. ‘Did you sleep well?’

‘I’m feeling better than I expected I would.’ Verity spoke slowly, as if she was thinking about each word. ‘And yes, I think I slept alright. I woke up a few times, though.’

Wilby got out of bed and went over to Verity, sitting beside her on the bed. She smoothed her hair back from her forehead, noting the angry red mark the noose had left on her throat. Apart from that, and being rather pale, she looked fine. Miller had cut some of her hair away on the
back of her head to see the wound properly and to clean it. He’d said it didn’t need stitches, because it was just a bad graze, so he’d only put a light dressing on it.

‘So what’s troubling you?’

‘I feel my life has just blown up in my face,’ she said softly. ‘I was cruising along, enjoying my job, and then suddenly this! Archie told me he always hated me, and I suppose I ought to have worked that out for myself by now, especially the last time he attacked me. But you really don’t ever think the man you believed was your father would try to kill you.’

‘No, of course not,’ Wilby agreed. ‘But thanks to Miller he didn’t succeed. Archie was a wicked and dangerous man who will get the punishment he deserves. You mustn’t spend another moment imagining it was somehow your fault. What you’ve got to do now is look to the future. Miller is here, dying to talk to you.’

‘Well, that’s part of it, Wilby. I don’t know how I feel about him any more. I accepted he’d found someone else and, sad as I was about it, I got over it. Now that he appears to want me again, it just makes me feel second best.’

‘Now listen here, madam,’ Wilby said firmly, ‘you don’t know the full story about that.’

Wilby began to tell her the truth of the matter: how Archie had manipulated Miller into writing to say he’d found someone else. ‘Ruby and I were a little suspicious, and we took the liberty recently of digging out your letters and comparing the earlier ones with that last Dear John letter. We noticed some odd things about it, which made us think Archie may have had a hand in it. Anyway, to cut a long story short, we wrote to Miller. He hadn’t got
anyone else, and never had, and the end result was that he came here for you. I’m so sorry that we poked into your letters.’

Verity gave a weak smile. ‘That’s okay, I’m very glad you found out the truth. But I’m not sure it makes any difference to how I feel now. Of course I want to see Miller, if only to thank him for rescuing me, but I don’t think I can turn the clock back.’

Wilby got up from the bed and put her dressing gown on. ‘Keep an open mind, Verity. He is a very impressive young man, and I think you may find him a very different one from the man you once knew. Now I’ll go down and start breakfast, but I think you should have yours in bed.’

It was lunchtime before Verity and Miller came face to face. Miller had got up early, gone for a walk along the Downs, and was eating some toast when a police sergeant called to take his statement. It was quiet in the house, the boys were at school, and Ruby, Verity and Wilby were all upstairs.

Miller took the sergeant, who introduced himself as Meakin, into the kitchen and offered him a cup of tea.

‘That would be very welcome,’ Meakin said. He was a burly, middle-aged man with a pock-marked face which made him look rather fierce. ‘Wood is in the prison hospital at Exeter. He’s had a few stitches in his head, but apart from that he’ll live to hang.’

Miller grinned. ‘You’ve decided that, then?’

‘Well, there isn’t any doubt of Wood’s guilt. By all accounts he ranted all the way to Exeter that he wanted his stepdaughter dead. One of my colleagues is at the prison
now to take down his statement. We have a great deal of hard evidence against him regarding the two other dead women, and even if he refuses to confess to killing them, we can still nail him.’