The Drowning Ground (37 page)

‘So you hadn't suspected,' I said. ‘You had no idea about the girls until that moment.'

‘No, I had no idea. Of course, I'd known about the girls. But I'd only been suspicious about Ned and Owen until then. I think she assumed that I'd guessed about the girls as well.'

‘But you hadn't?'

‘No. Not at all. But when I knew … when she actually confirmed that I had been right all along about Ned and Owen, then, yes, of course, it all fit.'

‘So you kept your mouth shut and kept listening,' Graves said. ‘But you'd already got more than you'd bargained for, hadn't you?'

Lang blinked and breathed in very deeply. ‘Yes. She was very precise. Very calm. She'd been riding her bike in Chipping Norton, near the outskirts of town. That's when she saw the first girl. She was playing in the garden. She asked her if she wanted to see a new foal on the farm. And the girl agreed.'

‘They went together?'

‘Yes. She took her the back way, along the fields, so no one would see them. She led her to an old barn and then … then she drowned her in the water trough.'

‘And did she tell you what she had done with the body?'

‘No,' Lang said. ‘Only that no one would ever find it.'

‘And the other – the second one. Gail Foster,' I said. ‘She told you about her too?'

‘Yes, she had already made friends with Gail. They went to the same school in Quinton.

‘She decided on Gail because she was a nice girl, easy to make friends with. Gail already had lots of friends and she was pleased – pleased that Rebecca, who was a year older, seemed to like her. So when Rebecca knew that Frank was going to be out, she waited for Gail at the end of the lane near her house after school. All of the other children were under orders to go straight home and so no one saw them. She motioned for Gail to follow her.

‘Rebecca asked if she wanted to go for a swim in the pool. She said that she had already talked to Gail's mother, who'd said it was all right. So they went straight across the fields, towards the house. She lent her one of her old bathing costumes, and they got changed downstairs in the living room.'

‘So she made sure that they were completely alone?' I said.

‘Yes. She wanted this one to last longer. Gail went in first and Rebecca watched. Watched her swimming, and then she jumped in too. It got cold, and Gail started to complain. Wanted to go home. It made Rebecca angry. Gail was strong for her age and she nearly got away, but Rebecca held her under the water. It was all over very quickly, though. Like the boys. She sounded disappointed.'

Lang was silent for a moment longer.

‘What then?' I said.

‘She had already dug a grave for Gail under the trees. She threw her in. Gail was still in her swimming costume. Then she threw in her school uniform on top of her. But Gail woke up, coughing. So Rebecca buried her. Then she packed the earth tightly and covered it with sticks and leaves.'

‘She buried her alive?' Graves said quietly. I could see Graves trying to mask his horror. I did the same as best I could.

Lang nodded. ‘She got back late. Dinner had been on the table. Frank asked her where she'd been. She told him she'd been out in the woods, exploring. Then she had her supper.'

‘And did she say anything at all about a hairpin? The hairpin that we found later?'

‘Yes. She said the police asked if it was hers. She almost said it was. But she knew that if it was ever proved that it was definitely Gail's, it would be obvious that she'd been lying. So she had said she wasn't sure – it was safer that way.'

Lang stopped. He seemed for a moment as if he were unable to go on. He looked dazed and a little unsteady. His Adam's apple rose as he swallowed. He seemed out of breath. Graves pushed the cup of water towards him. Without seeming to see it, Lang reached for it, took a large gulp and held the empty cup to his chest. His chest was rising and falling now. The hand gripping the cup was like a claw.

‘And did she tell you about Sarah?' I said.

‘Sarah,' Lang said. ‘Yes.'

For a moment I was sure that that was it. That he'd had enough for one night, and that we would never hear the rest of it. But he seemed to rally. He nodded, urging himself to go on.

‘She told me how much she had hated her,' he said. ‘How she and her dad had been perfectly fine until Sarah had come along. So she'd pretended she was sick one day. It was hot and she knew Sarah would be lying by the pool. She watched her from her bedroom window for a while. And then she walked out round the back. Sarah was fast asleep.

‘Rebecca found a coping stone that had been wedged beneath the gate. And she hit Sarah with it. Once was enough. Then she pushed her into the swimming pool. She took the rock with her and later cleaned it and threw it away.'

Lang lapsed into silence. ‘The buzzing of the wasp had got even louder,' he went on finally. ‘I kept on thinking: why not open the window and let it out? But I couldn't move. My hands were shaking. And when I looked at her, she seemed unreal somehow. Like something seen from far off. She kept on talking. I couldn't breathe. I kept on thinking about poor Sarah. About her grave out there in the church.'

‘But she didn't know, did she?' I said quickly and leaning forward. ‘Rebecca didn't know about you and Sarah. She didn't know that you'd been having an affair. That you'd met her while you'd been treating Rebecca. She didn't know that you were going to run away together and start a new life. No one else knew about it, did they?'

‘No. No one knew,' Lang said quietly. ‘But she kept on talking about her. The look on Rebecca's face was empty again. Already she was retreating. I took a step towards her. I think I meant to open the window to let in some air and to let the wasp out. She was standing by the door. She took a step forward and reached for her bag.'

‘And that's when you knew that you couldn't prove a thing,' I said. ‘She was taunting you with it. That's why she wanted to talk to you. It was part of her sadism. She couldn't resist. And you knew that you had to act quickly.'

‘Yes. She started talking about how there was nothing anyone could do to prove any of it. That no one would believe that a young girl could have done something like that. Gail Foster was buried in a place where no one would ever find her, and they would never find Elise Pennington either. And as for the others, they were just accidents: no one could ever prove otherwise. I suppose I took another step towards her. I was still thinking about Sarah. About standing over her grave, flowers in my hand. The flowers I still put there every so often when I can.

‘And I realized of course it was true. There was nothing – nothing I could do to prove it. No one would ever believe me. Rebecca reached for the bag. There was something she had forgotten, or that she hadn't packed, because she brushed past me, on her way to the bathroom. And then I was moving. I knew that I couldn't let her leave. I think I might have slapped her. I'm not sure now. I might have done.' Lang paused. ‘I remember her standing there in front of me. And then I think for a moment she knew. She knew and tried to run.

‘She got as far as the stairs leading up to her bedroom. I grabbed her and held her facing me. She was strong. Her hands reached for me. My hands … my hands were on her throat. We fell and landed at the bottom of the stairs. She was still struggling. There was a curtain at the bottom, and she was reaching for it, trying to pull herself up and away from me. And then the curtain fell over her face, and I was glad because it meant I didn't have to look at her. And my hands were tightening and tightening around her neck … and then … she stopped struggling and she was still and I knew that I had killed her.'

55

The room was silent for a while. Lang pushed the cup of water away from him. He rested his arms on the table. He didn't seem to be able to look at us. I looked at him resisting the urge to say something. I let the silence continue.

‘I just sat there,' Lang said finally. ‘I'm not sure for how long. Just sat there. I went up to her room and sat on the edge of her bed and listened to her clock ticking on the table. I didn't want to look at her.'

‘But you knew that you had time before Hurst came back. Rebecca had told you that already,' I said.

‘Yes. After a while I found myself back on my feet and staring at her on the stairs. The curtain was still covering her face. Knew I had to get rid of her somehow. Hide her. But where? They'd look for her, and they'd find her. But then I took in her bag and the empty cupboards. All her stuff. Gone. She'd been threatening to leave home for ages.'

‘So you thought you might have caught a break?' I said. ‘If you could call it that. You thought they might not look for her if Hurst thought she'd run off.'

‘Yes, so I picked her up and carried her downstairs and out into the garden. There was an old groundsheet on the lawn by a wheelbarrow. I wrapped her in it then went round the back of the house. There was an entrance there that the builders used.'

‘You'd noticed it when you treated Rebecca at home?'

‘Yes. I took her down the steps. There were some old crates there. A rusty bike. Cans of paint and a few broken tools. I cleared away a space in the middle, and then I began to dig, and as I dug I thought about those poor girls. Believe me, it helped. Then I went back up for her bag.

‘But then halfway down the stairs I stopped and opened it up. I panicked when I saw it wasn't there. I was sure it would be there with her stuff. That she'd taken it with her.'

‘Her diary.'

‘Yes,' Lang said. ‘It should have been with her things. She was very strict about it. Wrote in it every night. But it wasn't there.'

‘And you'd phoned the previous afternoon. You were afraid she might have mentioned it in the diary. So if someone found the body they'd know you'd been at the house that morning. That you were the last person to see her alive. Or, even if they didn't find the body, they might get suspicious. Might think it strange that you never mentioned seeing her just before she left home for good. Especially if Hurst was the one who found it.'

‘Yes. So I searched for it in her room, but I couldn't find it anywhere. I found a drawer full of her copy books from school, but her diary wasn't amongst them, so I went back downstairs with the rucksack. I put it near the groundsheet. Then I buried all of it. I didn't have much time, so I couldn't bury it that deeply. But it was deep enough. I didn't go home straightaway. I went upstairs and searched for a while longer in her room, but it was already getting late. I put the curtain back on the rail and tidied up. I had to think. I needed Frank to believe that she had gone away. So I took one of her textbooks with me.'

‘So you had samples of her writing. And whenever you were in London you would send Hurst a postcard supposedly from Rebecca. So he would think she was all right. But you knew you'd have to come back,' I said. ‘You knew that if Hurst ever found the diary he might put two and two together.'

‘Yes.'

‘And you broke in and tried to find it when he'd had a few too many. And you used the postcards to draw him away to London that one time, so you could have a proper look.'

‘Yes, and the thing wasn't there. I couldn't believe it. And after that I couldn't get anywhere near it because of all those bars and then he bought that dog.'

‘And after that you knew there was no way you could ever get back in?'

‘Yes.'

‘But you thought he'd found it, didn't you? That's why you went out there to see him after your wife told you that she'd seen him on the hill.'

Lang stared at the table. ‘Yes. I was afraid. He kept on coming to the house. He just showed up one afternoon. I saw his Land Rover parked on the other side of the road. And when I went outside, he drove off. And on the weekends he'd be there, just sitting, watching the house for hours and hours. And he wouldn't say a single word.'

‘So you thought he knew?' I said. ‘You thought he'd found the diary?'

‘Yes.'

‘So when you heard he was up in the field, alone, you decided to go to have it out with him? Because if he knew, you had no choice. You had to try to make him see reason?'

‘Yes. I didn't know what the diary said. My wife went out after her walk. I parked the car outside his house by the lane and went round the back. I walked across his garden, over the wall and then over the fields, towards the top of the hill. His dog started barking. I waited by some bushes. There was some old boy out there walking his dog, and he seemed to be taking forever about it, and I didn't want him to hear what I would be saying to Frank.

‘Hurst was up there, bent over, fixing some barbed wire. He'd dumped his other tools behind him. The dog kept barking and barking. And I thought, if he knows – well, that's it, I'm done for. I thought: how can I ever make him understand? How can I explain to him what Rebecca has done? How can I make him believe me?

‘The dog seemed to sense I was there, and it was really going berserk, so Frank went and gave it a whack. Then he came back. He was talking to himself – mumbling. I hadn't seen him up close for a while. And, as I watched him, I thought, he's just an old man. An old man with nothing to lose. A lonely old man mumbling to himself at the top of a hill. What's he got? Nothing.

‘I was going to explain it all to him. I was going to try to make him see reason. I was going to tell him that I hadn't had a choice. But deep down I knew it was hopeless. And then –'

‘You saw the pitchfork?'

‘Yes, it was stuck in the ground next to an old tree trunk. It was almost dark. The whole place was completely deserted. I kind of watched myself leaving the trees, reaching for it. The dog started barking again, and this time I was glad, because it meant Frank wouldn't hear me when I came up behind him. I pushed him. Hard. He stumbled and fell over. Landed by some tree. He put his hand up and then…'