Dark Spaces

Book 5: Lilly Valentine

by Helen Black

Genres: Mystery; Female Sleuths

Synopsis

Lilly Valentine tries to help a damaged teenager - but has she been horrifically abused, or is she lying to save her own skin? Having recently split up from the father of her baby, Lilly is not in a happy place, matters being complicated further by the arrival of her ex-husband, needing a sofa to crash out on, having been thrown out by his girlfriend. In the midst of all this Lilly is asked by a child psychologist if she will help one of her patients: a girl currently sectioned having stolen a car while extremely drunk. While Lilly visits her she is introduced to Chloe, another unstable teenager who slips Lilly a note saying: "Help us". And then Lilly's client is killed and Chloe accused of her murder. Her case is not helped by the fact that the words "Help us" have been carved on the dead girl's stomach.... Helen grew up in Pontefract, West Yorkshire. At 18 she went to Hull university and left three years later with a tattoo on her shoulder and a law degree. She became a lawyer in Peckham and soon had a loyal following of teenagers needing legal advice and bus fares. She ended up working in Luton, working predominantly for children going through the care system. Helen is married to a long-suffering lawyer and is the mother of young twins who take up 90% of her waking hours.

Release date: April 4, 2013

Publisher: Audible Studios

Print pages: 320

Sample

‘How is your health, Miss Valentine?’

Dr Kendrick leaned on his desk and gave a small smile that didn’t reveal his teeth.

‘Me? Fit as a fiddle,’ Lilly replied. ‘I mean the veins on the back of my legs look like a relief map of Africa and if I sneeze twice in a row I need a clean pair of knickers, but you know, not bad for my age.’

Dr Kendrick laughed politely. ‘And your mental health? Any issues there?’

‘Depends who you ask,’ Lilly said. ‘I think my ex-husband might say I was away with the fairies.’

Kendrick nodded and made a slow deliberate note on his A4 pad. ‘What about Alice’s father? Health-wise I mean.’

‘Oh my ex-husband isn’t Alice’s father,’ said Lilly. ‘That’s the ex-boyfriend.’

Kendrick continued making notes.

‘Which makes it sound much worse than it is.’ Lilly gulped. ‘Much more exciting than real life.’

‘It’s not my business, Miss Valentine.’

‘All the same, I wouldn’t want you to think I had a new man every night of the week.’ She was gabbling now. ‘Chance would be a fine thing, but a wild night chez nous consists of a DVD of Downtown Abbey and a family bag of Maltesers—’

Kendrick interrupted with a soft cough. ‘And the health of Alice’s father?’

‘Fine,’ Lilly squeaked.

While Kendrick went back to his pad, Lilly puffed out her cheeks and scanned the artwork behind him. There was a black and white photograph of a clown, a thick smile painted around a thin frown.

‘Why are you asking me all this, Doctor?’ she said. ‘I came to discuss Alice.’

She gestured to the car seat at her feet, and the baby in it, sucking a pink fist.

Kendrick put down his pen. ‘With babies as young as Alice it’s very difficult to make a diagnosis.’

‘Maybe there’s nothing to diagnose,’ said Lilly.

‘Indeed,’ said Kendrick. ‘Her hearing and sight tests came back perfectly fine.’

‘There you go then.’

Dr Kendrick managed another smile, but again there was no sign of his teeth. ‘And yet your health visitor and GP both confirmed that she failed to meet any of her six-month milestones.’

Lilly shrugged. Tick-box culture pissed her off. Some kids developed later than others. It had always been that way. If Elsa, Lilly’s mother, were here now she’d regale this form-filling moron with tales of Candy Cooper from number seven who didn’t say a word until she was four.

‘And from that moment on they couldn’t bloody shut her up. Drove her father to drink.’

Then there was Christopher Quigley who everyone said was backward, but it didn’t stop him making a fortune selling knickers on the market did it?

‘Listen, Doc,’ said Lilly. ‘I know you have to do this. A referral’s been made and you’ve got your job to do. I’m a solicitor, so I know how all this works, but I really don’t think there’s anything wrong with my little girl.’

She scooped Alice out of her car seat and kissed the top of her head. As she ran her chin through the messy curls she could smell sugar and flowers and sky.

‘You’re probably right,’ said Kendrick. ‘A mother’s instinct usually is, but as you correctly pointed out, I must do my job.’ He scribbled something on a second pad and tore off the page. ‘Let’s meet again in one month and in the meantime, blood tests.’

‘Blood tests?’

Kendrick waved his hand. ‘A pinprick, nothing more.’

Lilly threw back her head, opened her mouth wide and let out a bark of laughter.

‘This’ll be interesting.’

Alice’s screams rang through the hospital and she batted away the nurse brandishing a needle. In different circumstances Lilly would have been impressed by her daughter’s force of will. In her working life she’d met every kind of nutter wailing for their freedom, and every kind of junkie begging for a fix, but no one could scream as loud as Alice.

‘I blame the parents.’

Lilly spun on her heels, a retort at the ready for the interfering cow behind her. She was sick to the back teeth of strangers tutting at her in supermarket checkout queues. If they thought they could do better with Alice, they could be Lilly’s bloody guest.

When she saw who had spoken, the sharpness fell from her tongue. ‘Sheba!’

Lilly’s friend gave a deep curtsey. Or as deep as a woman who looked like she was about to give birth any second could manage. Sheba and Lilly both opened their mouths to speak but another one of Alice’s determined screeches pierced the air.

‘What’s wrong with the ankle biter?’ asked Sheba. ‘I think we can safely assume it’s not her lungs.’

‘She failed her six-month check-up. Didn’t meet her milestones.’ Lilly made quotation marks with her fingers around the last word.

Alice screamed again with the melodrama any B-movie actress would be proud of.

‘Hey you.’ Sheba held up a finger at Alice. ‘Shush.’

The baby seemed entranced by the perfectly rounded scarlet nail and her jaw slackened. Peace fell.

‘Thank you,’ said Sheba and turned to Lilly. ‘So she failed to reach her milestones? Which ones?’

‘I’m not sure,’ said Lilly.

‘Supporting herself? Motor skills?’

‘Like I said, I’m not sure.’ Sheba was lovely but doctors were all the same. Even those who specialized in matters of the mind. ‘What about you? What are you here for?’

Sheba ran a hand over her bump. ‘I am now officially overdue and whilst I agree that it’s never fashionable to be early, keeping people waiting is simply poor manners.’

‘They say raspberry leaf tea brings on labour,’ said Lilly.

‘I’ve tried it.’ Sheba wrinkled her nose. ‘Tastes like shit.’

‘And sex,’ said Lilly. ‘That can get things moving.’

Sheba gave a gritty chuckle. If giving up vodka tonic, espresso and Marlboro lights had been good for her unborn baby, it had had no effect on her vocal cords. Even at nine months pregnant she was like the naughtiest girl in the dorm. Lilly sighed. When she’d been carrying Alice her feet had swollen to three times their size and she’d spent most of her days chugging on a bottle of Gaviscon. Sheba, as stylish and saucy as ever, looked as though she might just throw on some black lace undies and enjoy the challenge. Her partner, whoever he was, probably considered himself the luckiest man alive.

‘Actually, I’ve been meaning to call you,’ said Sheba. ‘I need a favour.’

‘Don’t tell me,’ said Lilly. ‘You want to borrow the Alexander McQueen ball gown again.’

Sheba rolled her eyes. ‘I need help. Professional help.’

‘Go on.’

‘I have a patient. A fifteen-year-old girl and she’s been charged with stealing a car and driving under the influence,’ said Sheba. ‘The family instructed their solicitor, but he’s from a big commercial practice in London and I don’t get the sense he knows his way around the criminal courts.’

Lilly clicked a tongue. Too many lawyers thought crime was an easy ticket. But it was specialized and could be tricky, particularly where children were concerned. You had to know what you were doing.

‘Let me grab a pen.’ She held out Alice to Sheba, who looked shocked and appalled in equal measure.

‘I don’t really do babies,’ she said.

Lilly nodded at Sheba’s belly, hard as a basketball. ‘I’d say it was time to start.’

Sheba sniffed and took the little girl, a hand under each armpit. She held her out in front of her, Alice’s legs dangling in mid-air. Alice blew a spit bubble.

‘Charming,’ said Sheba.

Lilly grabbed a biro loitering in the bottom of her bag and flicked a piece of orange plasticine from the nib. It pirouetted through the air and landed on the sleeve of Sheba’s elegant jacket.

‘I can see where you get your impeccable personal hygiene,’ she told Alice.

Lilly stuck out her tongue. ‘Fire away.’

‘Lydia Morton-Daley. Like I say, she’s fifteen. Came to us about two weeks ago after the police caught her driving home from a party. Apparently she came this close to wrapping the car round a tree.’ Sheba tried to demonstrate a tiny distance between her fingers, but with Alice still held at arm’s length like a smelly nappy, she could do little more than jiggle her wrists. ‘Can’t I put her in the car seat?’

‘If you’re prepared to shout above the din, go for it,’ answered Lilly.

Sheba pouted, but kept Alice in her grip. ‘When the cops breathalysed Lydia she was three times over the limit.’

Lilly whistled, which made Alice laugh and pedal her feet.

‘If you don’t want me to drop you onto the hard floor, I suggest you keep still,’ Sheba told her. ‘When the parents brought her to the Grove, I thought they might be trying to pull a fast one. Another middle-class brat avoiding her punishment by blaming it all on depression.’

Lilly might have called her a sceptic but experience told her that Lydia’s parents wouldn’t be the first to use their power and money to escape justice.

‘And now?’ she asked.

Sheba frowned. ‘Now I’m not sure. Whatever the reason for Lydia’s admission, she does seem to be exhibiting symptoms of mental illness. One thing I do know is that I need her in hospital for assessment, not in custody, which is where she might end up if Mr Pinstriped Suit puts his size tens where they’re not needed.’

Lilly finished writing down the details, slung the paper and pen back into her bag and appraised Sheba, who was now trying to rock Alice from side to side in what was probably meant to be a soothing manner. Alice swung like a flag in the wind, snorting and drooling.

‘Will you help me, Lilly?’

It wasn’t clear if Sheba’s request was for help with the case or the removal of Alice.

Lilly held out her arms. ‘’Course I will.’

*   *   *

The ground was hard under Jack’s trainers, each ridge of earth frozen solid, as he pounded up the hill. Even at midday the sun couldn’t summon enough strength to melt the January frosts.

‘Mary, Mother of God.’ He wiped the sweat that was running down his face with his sleeve. ‘This is a tough one.’

Kate didn’t break her stride and laughed at him. Christ, the woman wasn’t even panting.

‘You’re getting old, McNally,’ she told him and upped her pace so that she was a few feet ahead, her pert arse-cheeks waving at him through skintight Lycra. ‘Ready for the knacker’s yard.’

He shook his head, found a spurt of energy and propelled himself upwards, slapping her backside as he passed her. There was life in the old dog yet.

At the summit the view was spectacular, the valley below sparkling and white, as if the fields were covered in glass beads. Jack slowed to a stop. He loved it up here on the Downs, where it was always deserted.

‘Lightweight,’ said Kate and took her place by his side. Unlike Jack she kept moving, swaying from side to side.

‘I need to make a call,’ said Jack.

‘You need a breather more like.’

Jack pulled out his mobile. He did need to make a call, but in truth he did need a second’s rest before he keeled over. He ran regularly and considered himself pretty fit but Kate was something else. She extended her right leg in front of her and bent forward from the waist to pull up the toe of her trainer and stretch out her hamstrings. She looked up at him, her face flushed pink, her lips slightly apart.

‘Who’re you calling?’ she asked.

Jack went into his contacts. ‘Lilly.’

‘Right.’ Kate stood upright.

‘She took Alice to the hospital and I want to know how they got on,’ he said.

Kate nodded and took a couple of steps away, cupping her hand over her eyes to look out at the scenery while Jack waited for Lilly to pick up.

‘Hey, Jack,’ said Lilly.

‘How did you get on?’ he asked.

‘Fine. The doctor agreed that there’s very unlikely to be anything wrong with Alice. All they did was take a bit of blood.’

‘Blood!’

‘A pinprick, Jack, they didn’t drain pints of the stuff from her.’

Jack felt anxiety wash through him. ‘I should have come with you.’

‘We talked about it, Jack,’ she said. ‘There was no point us both having time off work.’

He was about to point out that Lilly stating something as fact and them talking it through were not one and the same thing, but Kate tapped her watch with her finger. They needed to get back to the nick.

‘Can I come and see her tonight?’ he asked.

‘There’s no need Jack, she’s fine,’ said Lilly.

‘It’s not about need.’

‘You’re coming over tomorrow morning to collect her,’ said Lilly. ‘You’ll see for yourself that she’s on top form.’

Jack hung up and took a deep breath. He hated having to make an appointment to see his daughter. It wasn’t how it was supposed to be.

‘Okay?’ Kate put a hand on Jack’s arm.

He shrugged. It wasn’t okay was it? But what was the point in going over it? When he and Lilly had been together they had spent fecking hours chewing stuff over and where had it got them? Barely speaking and Jack only allowed to spend time with his flesh and blood if it was on Lilly’s pre-agreed schedule.

‘Let’s go,’ said Kate and set off.

*   *   *

Lilly held Alice in the crook of one arm and wiped the brass nameplate fixed to the wall outside her office with a spit-moistened tissue. A bird had shit from on high, obliterating the ‘& co’ after ‘Valentine’. Frankly, the sparrow had known what he was doing. There was no ‘& co’. Lilly had had a brief spell of assistance from a young Muslim woman called Taslima who had brought with her a steely calm that was much appreciated. Unfortunately, she had ended up embroiled in one of Lilly’s cases, getting kidnapped and having to leap from a burning building. It had not been a great shock when she had decided to retrain as a barrister. Then there’d been Karol: a refugee, who had a knack for fixing technology, was a dab hand at filing and sported a six-pack Justin Timberlake would be proud of. But he’d left to open a bar in Brighton called Dorothy’s with his boyfriend.

As Lilly unlocked the door and stepped over the post, she vowed to get some proper, permanent help.

She ignored the answer machine, winking its accusations at her, and picked up the phone. She dialled the number Sheba had given her and laid Alice on a play mat she kept in the reception.

‘Brady Moore and Lodge.’ The response was instantaneous.

‘Blimey,’ said Lilly. ‘Were you waiting for the phone to ring?’

‘Yes,’ said the receptionist, as if that were obvious. ‘Can I help you?’

Lilly checked her notes. Her biro had been running out and it was difficult to make out the name. ‘Can I speak to a Paul Sara . . . sorry I can’t read my own writing.’ Lilly squinted. ‘It’s definitely Sara-something.’

Lilly heard nails tapping a keyboard.

‘There’s no one here of that name. Could it be Paul Santana?’ asked the receptionist.

Lilly rechecked the piece of paper. In all honesty it could say anything. ‘Let’s give him a twirl,’ she said and gave her name.

The hold music was The Planets by Holst, a deep resonant cello rising and falling. Lilly pressed the squawk box button and the music filled her own office. Alice looked up and pointed a chubby finger towards the sound. As the crash of a cymbal resonated, Lilly bent over her baby and began conducting. Alice gave her best smile, the stubby ends of front teeth erupting through her gums. The music lifted towards a crescendo and Lilly waved her arms and head madly, her long curls flying. Alice squealed in delight.

The music stopped abruptly. ‘Paul Santana.’

‘Right.’ Lilly straightened. ‘Hello there.’

‘Miss Valentine?’

Lilly blew a stray tendril from her mouth. ‘That’s me.’

‘I’m sure the error is mine,’ he said. ‘But I can’t place you momentarily.’

Ooh, he was slick.

‘No error at all,’ said Lilly. ‘We’ve never met.’

‘An unfortunate circumstance, I’m sure.’

A bit too slick.

‘Your name was passed on to me by Lydia Morton-Daley’s therapist. I understand you’re the family’s solicitor.’

‘Indeed,’ he said. ‘I deal with all the Morton-Daleys’ legal affairs.’

‘The difficulty, as I understand it, is that you specialize in commercial work and that Lydia requires criminal advice.’

‘Oh, I think my knowledge will be enough to cover the small matter of a teenager drinking too much,’ he said. ‘I may not be Rumpole but this isn’t serious enough to cause concern.’

Lilly sighed. When would some lawyers learn to stick to what they were good at? She wouldn’t pull up a chair, stick her feet on his desk and advise his clients on their tax bills, would she?

‘She was three times over the limit and crashed a Merc she’d hot-wired. When the police pulled her out she was still holding a bottle of vodka. With her history it doesn’t look great.’

‘History?’

‘She’s been nicked four times in the past couple of years. Once for criminal damage, twice for shoplifting and recently for disorderly conduct. Each time she got off with a caution but that’s most definitely not going to happen this time,’ said Lilly. ‘It’s not beyond the realms of possibility that Lydia could spend some time in custody. And, if that happens, her family aren’t going to be best pleased, are they?’

Lilly let the question hang in the air, her meaning as clear as a mountain stream.

He coughed. ‘Perhaps on further reflection it would be better to transfer the file to a solicitor with more time to spend on it. These cases can get very time-consuming.’

The oil slick oozed out.

‘Why don’t I give you my email address?’ said Lilly. ‘And you can send the papers over.’

When Gem wakes up it’s nearly one o’clock and the telly and the lights are off. The leccy must have run out. Her cheek is stuck to the settee and when she pushes herself up it peels away like a plaster coming off in the bath. It feels like some of her skin got left behind. She even checks there’re no bits of it on the PVC.

Gem didn’t go to school this morning. Mum was on the missing list and she couldn’t leave Tyler on his own could she? But it’s gonna get well boring if they can’t watch anything.

Tyler opens his eyes and looks at his sister. He’s been asleep too, cuddled up with Marley on the floor.

‘I hungry,’ he says.

Gem nods at him. She’s hungry as well but she doubts there’ll be anything in the fridge.

She pats Marley on the head and he wags his tail. The dog must be starving too. When Mum gets back she’d better have been to the shops.

She picks up Tyler. His nappy is massive and his trousers feel damp around the bum. Mum thinks he should be dry by now, but he ain’t, so Gem don’t know why she even says it.

She takes him through to the kitchen and opens the fridge. It don’t work so they just keep stuff in there away from Marley. Like she thought, it’s virtually empty. There’s a tin of chicken soup but she can’t even heat it up, can she?

‘I hungry,’ Tyler says again.

‘All right,’ Gem says and reaches for the tin opener. They’ll have to eat it cold. It ain’t like it’s the first time.

She’s spooning it straight from the tin, one for Tyler, one for Marley, then one for herself, when Mum walks in.

‘That’s not clean, Gem,’ she says and flops into the chair opposite.

Gem shrugs and carries on. ‘We need money for the meter.’ She notices Mum ain’t carrying no shopping bags. ‘And food.’

‘Why didn’t you go over to Mary’s and borrow a couple of quid?’

‘We already owe her a fiver,’ Gem replies.

Mum sighs and pats herself down. Right in the bottom of her jacket pocket she finds a single battered ciggie and lights it. Gem watches the end glow red and the smoke stream out of Mum’s nose.

‘Give us a puff,’ she says.

‘You shouldn’t even be smoking at your age,’ Mum says. But she hands it out to Gem. ‘You should be in school.’

Gem hands the spoon to Tyler so he can lick off the cold soup and takes the fag. Marley jumps up at the baby, trying to get the spoon.

‘Get down.’ Mum bats Marley away.

‘He’s hungry,’ Gem tells her.

‘We’re all fucking hungry.’ Mum holds out her fingers in a V shape to take her ciggie back.

Gem steals another quick drag and puts Tyler on the floor. Marley leaps at him and steals the spoon, making a run for it into the other room. She can’t be bothered to chase him.

‘I’ll go out then, shall I?’ she asks.

Mum nods and drops her dog-end into the empty soup tin.

It was dark by the time Lilly got back to her cottage and she made straight for the kitchen, ditching Alice in a high chair alongside. She flicked on the kettle and when the water boiled she poured it over a large saucepan of spaghetti. Then she added a fistful of salt crystals. Her mother had always told her that the water for cooking pasta should be as salty as the Mediteranean; a rather exotic pronouncement, given she had never been further than Blackpool.

When the pan was bubbling Lilly pulled eggs, bacon, cream and parmesan from the fridge.

‘Is that Carbonara?’

Lilly almost jumped out of her skin. ‘Bloody hell, Sam.’

Her teenaged son dropped his school bag on the floor at his feet. Not far behind was his dad.

‘Is that what I think it is?’ his dad asked.

Spaghetti Carbonara was her ex-husband’s desert island meal. When they’d first got together Lilly had made a huge vat of the stuff which they took back to bed with them. She’d cooked it at least once a week during their marriage.

‘I think you have a sixth sense about it,’ she said. ‘Isn’t Cara expecting you back home for dinner?’

David shrugged. His new wife didn’t really cook. Instead she followed a macrobiotic lifestyle that featured a profusion of raw vegetables and pulses. Lilly laughed and slung more spaghetti into the pan.

When they’d all had seconds, Sam slunk out of the room mumbling something about geography revision and Lilly poured herself a generous glass of wine. David did the same.

‘You’re driving,’ she told him.

‘Actually, Lil . . .’ He took a gulp. ‘I was hoping I could stay here tonight.’

Lilly almost choked. ‘What?’

When she and David had separated she’d been bereft. Gnawed bare like a dog’s bone, even her marrow sucked away. It had taken her years to get past the corrosive anger to a place where they could be friends for Sam’s sake. Surely he couldn’t be suggesting what she thought he was suggesting?

‘I meant on the sofa of course,’ he said.

Relief washed over Lilly but that was quickly eclipsed by the piquing of her temper.

‘Why?’ she asked. ‘What’s happened?’

David didn’t look up from the rim of his glass, but the pink glow seeping up from his collar to his ears told her everything.

‘Cara’s thrown you out,’ she shouted. ‘She has, hasn’t she?’

‘Shush,’ he said and pointed to the ceiling, indicating where Sam’s bedroom was situated.

‘Bloody hell, David,’ Lilly stage-whispered. ‘What did you do?’

‘Nothing.’ David put down his wine and coughed. ‘But Cara has got it into her head that I’m seeing someone else.’

Lilly slammed her own drink onto the table, sloshing its contents over the wood.

‘Christ Almighty, David, when will you ever learn to keep it in your trousers?’

Lilly was furious. God knows she was no fan of Botox Belle but she and David had a life together, a child together. Lilly thought he’d finally grown up.

‘It’s not how it looks,’ he said. ‘Cara has got it all wrong.’

‘That’s what you told me,’ Lilly spat.

‘Well this is nice.’ Sam leaned against the door frame. ‘Just like the good old days.’

David looked up. ‘Sorry, Sam, your mother and I were just discussing a few things.’

Sam rolled his eyes and lifted his shirt to scratch his stomach. His muscles were washboard tight, each ab clearly delineated. Lilly knew he’d started to use the gym at school but the transformation was incredible. She had to stop herself staring.

‘Your dad’s staying here tonight,’ she said. ‘He’s had a bit of a row with Cara, but nothing to worry about.’

‘So you thought you’d come over here and row with Mum instead?’ Sam shook his head. ‘Sucker.’

‘Sam!’ Lilly and David shouted as one.

He put up his hands in mock surrender. ‘Whatever. Just keep it down, would you, some of us have work to do.’

With that, he sloped away and David mouthed his thanks to Lilly.

It’s hours before Gem has anything worth taking to Ali.

First she tried Superdrug but it was completely on top. Some old cow of an assistant followed her around. Even when Gem pretended to check out the rows of nail varnish, she stood about a foot away, her arms folded. Bitch.

Boots was no better.

And it ain’t like Gem’s green. She’. . .