The house was quiet when she got back. Charlie was signing on at the local Job Centre today, and Fay must have gone to the market. The door to Jason’s basement room stood open, but a quick glance told Helen he wasn’t in either. She heard Lee’s door closing on the top floor when she went to change into more casual clothes, and she decided to read the file in the kitchen.
The kitchen was baking hot. She threw open the doors, enjoying the way the gentle breeze played with her hair and the sound of the bees droning lazily in the jasmine bush which was in full flower. The grass, which hadn’t been mowed in a while, was springy and soft when Helen crossed to the bush and broke off a stalk of jasmine. The flower’s heady scent reminded her of India.
One of Fay’s stray cats was sunning itself on the shed roof. When a dog barked somewhere in a neighbouring garden, it didn’t move a whisker, although Helen dropped the flower with a start. Picking it up again, a flash of memory swept through her.
A dog had been there that morning, a big brown one, the breed she didn’t know. It had played in the leaves, and she remembered how she’d longed to play too, to kick and toss the leaves high in the air, but couldn’t because she was stuck in the car.
If a dog had been there, the dog owner had been there too. He or she must have seen something. Had they come forward, helped convict Fay?
Sighing, she went back inside, dropped the flower in a jam jar with some water, and put the kettle on.
Tea in hand, she sat down on the sofa and opened the folder, which had been arranged like a scrap book with newspaper articles stuck in it. The first article, with a photo of her mother, was from a tabloid newspaper.
Mother Murdered with 5-Year-Old Daughter in Car
A 34-year-old woman was found stabbed to death in the front seat of her car in the early hours of October the 12th. The victim, identified as Mimi Stephanov, was discovered at 6.35 a.m. on Ealing Common.
Police were alerted to the scene by a 999 call made by the postal worker who found the body. Mrs Stephanov’s 5-year-old daughter, who had been asleep on the back seat, was in shock but appeared otherwise unharmed.
Investigators say Mrs Stephanov was bleeding from a stab wound in her throat. Emergency services responded and pronounced her dead at the scene.
‘I’m totally shaken,’ said Darren Morris, a Royal Mail employee. ‘I cross the Common every day to do my rounds, and you don’t get a quieter neighbourhood than this.’
Authorities are holding a 37-year-old woman for questioning. Neighbours talk of recent disturbances near the victim’s home, and that the woman held in custody had been harassing Mrs Stephanov.
There were several articles from different newspapers reporting the story in the same factual terms, others dealing with the court case, one long article detailing the history of the family company, plus a snippet from a trade magazine which commented on the company’s recent quotation on the stock exchange.
On the 15th of December the family-run auction house Ransome & Daughters, with offices in London’s Mayfair district, began trading on the London Stock Exchange small business section for the first time in the company’s short, but hitherto extremely successful, history.
The article went on to talk about share prices and expected turnover, and Helen skipped to the end.
This comes only two months after the tragic demise of founder William Ransome’s only child, Mimi Stephanov, who was killed by a one-time friend.
A spokesperson for the company, Bill Collins, gave the following statement: ‘It’s been a difficult time for all of us. Naturally we’re delighted that the company is doing so well, but the loss of a member of the Ransome family and one of our most dedicated co-workers has been a terrible blow.’
She read the newspaper clippings through once, then dropped the file in her lap and stared out into the garden. The dog was still barking next door, the timbre of his voice suggesting it was a large dog.
Her mother’s life, and her own too, compressed to a series of stills reported as bare facts. There was no mention of the incredible upheaval in Helen’s young life or what sort of person her mother was. Or at least the person Helen assumed she was from her fragmented memories.
She wished she hadn’t read the articles. The factual clippings and just the one photo of Mimi meant that her mother now only existed in a vacuum, beginning and ending her life in a tragic murder.
She wanted to weep, but her brain had other ideas. Her eyelids flickered, and her hands twitched. Outside, falling jasmine petals hung suspended in the air, and sounds rang out from the far end of a very long, dark tunnel. Another seizure was slowly squeezing her.
I don’t care any more, she thought. Despite the familiar terror which sent her heart racing, she felt herself slipping away.