Darkness Dominates - Chapter 14

Pippa was almost ready for her husband’s funeral. With the exception of her dress, everything she had on was completely black. That was the sole garment which housed more than one colour. A curved, thin silver line cascaded down either side of it.

“Just the shoes now” she said stonily.

Her current manner stemmed from her desire to keep it together. Since it was for her daughters’ and attendees’ benefit, she deemed this attitude unavoidable.

Holding the heel of each shoe, she slipped her feet into them. The last time Councillor Trennell had been dressed like this was for her grandmother’s funeral. It looked different because she was six months pregnant with Charlotte at the time. The baby bump could no longer be hidden. She’d hoped the day of Doug’s funeral would’ve been a far-off event. Pippa never imagined she’d be wearing this dress again sooner than that. At a time like this, Pippa wanted Jennifer’s support, but her focus was split between her loss and Darcy’s. This was what she was currently telling herself. The half of her which didn’t really believe that was overridden by the half that did.

Charlotte entered her parents’ bedroom. She was wearing the same dress and shoes as her mum. So was Rosie. With a tissue in her right hand, she dabbed her eyes. She’d been crying for close to half an hour. Charlotte had locked herself in the bathroom whilst the tears flowed. They’d subsided for now, but she was mindful that something could set off the waterworks again.

“The hearse is going to be here in the next five minutes. The other cars are already outside” announced Charlotte.

“Good. Where’s Rosie? I need to talk to her before we set off.”

“She’s downstairs with Martin and Doug’s sister – Auntie Lauren. What happened to that girl who’s lodging here? Oh, what’s her name? Skye Linton – that’s it!”

“She had something important to take care of”

“More important than this”

“She’s not family, Charlotte. She isn’t obliged to be at the funeral.”

Charlotte saw her mum touch her left ear involuntarily. It was the usual sign she was hiding something. She was about to bring the matter up, but decided now wasn’t the best time.

“Can you please ask Rosie to come up here?”

Downstairs in the front room, Lauren Trennell was sharing one of her memories of her brother with Martin and her younger niece. It involved a caravan holiday.

“So it rained the whole time, did it?” enquired Martin, to be sure he’d heard her correctly.

“Six of the seven days we were at Scarborough. Doug was the one who kept my spirits up the whole...”

Her lower lip began quivering. The memory had brought it home to Lauren she’d never see her older brother ever again. She almost burst into tears, but managed to compose herself again. Charlotte missed this moment by seconds as she entered the front room.

“What are you three talking about?”

“Family holidays” answered Doug’s sister.

Lauren was someone who couldn’t help dominating people’s attention. She’d had that kind of presence since she was a little girl. When visiting relatives, their eyes tended to be on her, rather than on Doug. She’d grown up to have the face of a supermodel and the body of an athlete. Her honey blonde hair had the strange habit of gravitating towards her lips. She had to brush one or two of her curled locks away again when Charlotte approached the trio.

“Mum wants a word, Rosie”

She moved away from Charlotte’s boyfriend and walked out of the room. Then, Lauren started to head that way too.

“Excuse me, nervous bladder” she said, exiting the room.

When they were alone, Martin noticed Charlotte’s expression had changed.

“Are you okay?”

“No, I think – no, I’m pretty positive my mum’s hiding something.”

“What sort of something?”

“I think it’s to do with my dad’s murder”

“Why would she be hiding details about that from you? She probably knows very little about it herself. DCI Stoneham can’t have told her much. What makes you think she’s holding something back?”

“Because of the local TV news report”

“Which wasn’t that detailed either.”

“I know, Martin, I’ve seen it – two psycho teen girl bullies kill my dad by cutting out his heart! That’s the thing I don’t get! How could he stand by and let them kill him? My dad didn’t have Hulk-strength, but even he could’ve tackled those psycho bitches himself! Something doesn’t add up, Martin.”

“BBC Alvenshire’s coverage of that news was too graphic, in my opinion. Look at the state you’re in because of it. It’s got you imagining allsorts.”

Charlotte didn’t reply to her boyfriend’s remark. Instead, she asked him to take her empty coffee cup into the kitchen.

Still in her husband’s bedroom, Councillor Trennell kept Rosie waiting several seconds before speaking to her.

“Close the door” she said to her.

Rosie knew from the tone of that instruction why her mum had summoned her up here.

“I so don’t want to talk about this now, mum”

“The teenage girls who killed your dad are...”

“Please mum – stop! All I’m thinking about now is burying my dad.”

Opening the bedroom door, Rosie immediately raced downstairs. She heard a knock on the door, on reaching the foot of the stairs. Standing on the doorstep were Doug’s cafe-owning friend Matthew Dean and his girlfriend, Emma Drayton. She bore a striking resemblance to Taylor Swift.

“My sincerest condolences – Doug was a mate anyone would love to have” he said to the three members of the Trennell family present.

It was another two minutes before Doug’s widow joined those in that room. Matt repeated the first half of what he’d just said, but he added “He was well thought of round here.”

“Thanks for that, Matthew”

“Are your parents around?”

“No, we’re meeting them at St. Vorlyn’s Church – the venue of my wedding to Doug.”

“What about Jennifer?”

“Likewise, Matthew”

“Mum, I thought she was meant to be dropping by before we set off!”

“She had to make a pit-stop, Charlotte.”

This detour took Jennifer to Hemlstone Lane in Alven’s city centre. Near the middle of that half-mile-long-street was a 10 storey building. Catherine had purchased it two years ago. A security guard with an athletic build watched her approach, and opened the front door.

“This is private property – what do you want?”

“Tell Lady Cullmore it’s Jen – she’ll know who that is.”

He was about to tell her to piss off, when Catherine said “Let her in, Scott!”

Her voice came from within the ground floor. Scott stood aside and let DCI Stoneham pass.

When Jennifer was inside, she saw that the ground floor’s interior resembled a hotel lobby. Easy chairs and sofas were scattered about the place. Catherine pointed to the lift she’d had installed nine months ago. Its design reflected the sort found in shopping centres. DCI Stoneham saw there were no speakers in its walls. She was glad not to be listening to emotionally beige music. The lift glided silently upwards to the top floor. She noticed that the fourth storey looked like a nightclub’s interior.

The lift doors opened, revealing the largest living room Jennifer had ever seen. She’d never set foot in here before. Her astonishment was for real. It was the same size as the combined width of her house’s downstairs rooms.

Lady Cullmore hadn’t yet changed into her outdoor clothes. She had on a blue and red silk dressing gown. It covered up most of her birthday suit. However, a quarter of her upper left and right breasts managed to be visible.

“I’m more than a little surprised to see you here, Jennifer. I thought you were heading to Mr. Trennell’s funeral.”

“I am. I’m going straight to the church from here, Brie.”

She’d used her current alias’s first name, on realising there was a third person present. Catherine’s head turned in the direction of her bedroom and adjoining bathroom.

“You can smell the aftershave, can’t you?”

“Who is he?”

“Ralham FC’s newest signing – Dario Sonnance.”

“It wasn’t the aftershave that alerted me you had male company, it’s the dressing gown.”

He walked in and said something in Italian to Catherine. She replied in his language, before planting a passionate kiss on his lips. Dario headed back to her bedroom.

“How good is he at getting it into the goal?”

“You aren’t here to talk about my sex life, Jennifer.”

“I’m not – I need an update.”

“An update on what”

“Skye’s progress on finding the last pair of Henford daggers”

“It’s the same as it was yesterday – at zero percent.”

Made of flowers, two words were resting against the coffin – ‘Dad’ and ‘Husband’. The motorised hearse they were in was parked at the foot of the driveway. Pippa was walking between her two daughters down towards it. Lauren and Martin, together with Matt and Emma, followed a few steps behind. Pippa put her left hand on the window the coffin could be seen through. It stayed there for a few seconds. She moved it off the glass when Rosie and Charlotte began edging her to the car they were going in.

The back seat of this vehicle had enough space for three people. This meant they could fasten their seatbelts in one go. None of them spoke during the ride to St. Vorlyn’s. This journey time was spent with them each trying to picture one memory relating to Doug’s life.

Matt and Martin were amongst the six men who’d volunteered to be the pallbearers. The coffin was gradually ferried into the church, ready to be temporarily laid on the altar. Directly behind them, Pippa had switched places with her two children. This was for the purpose of carrying the floral displays. Pippa was holding the one that said ‘Husband’. Charlotte and Rosie shared the responsibility of carrying the one that said ‘Dad’. The other mourners joined the procession, one-by-one. A large number of the attendees who weren’t related to Doug were the supermarket’s members of staff. Sixteen people down the line were the grandson of the store’s proprietor, Lawrence, and his third fiancé. He’d had two before, but neither one resulted in marriage. Behind him were Alicia and Katy. Being Rosie’s best mates, they couldn’t figure out why they were nineteenth and twentieth in the procession. They were too loyal to Rosie to moan about this openly, though.

Walking in front of the altar was Rev. Amanda Leonard, the eldest daughter of the man who’d performed Doug and Pippa’s marriage ceremony. She stood behind the microphone, ready to speak. Jennifer entered, just before she could. The DCI took her seat, avoiding eye contact with everyone, except Doug’s widow. Councillor Trennell’s left hand was being held tight by her mum. Rev. Leonard cleared her throat a little, preceding her second attempt to address those congregated.

“We are here today to remember the life of Douglas Trennell. Everyone present is grateful he was a part of their lives – none more so than his wife and his daughters – Charlotte and Rosie. I’ve no doubt some of you will have seen the news about his death on the local TV news or read of it in this county’s newspapers. All they serve to do is to remind us the terrible way he was taken from us. To that I say this shouldn’t be the only thing we associate with his name. What he did before, the kind of life he lead – that should be what we remember and attach to him. It is the memories we have of him that will keep him alive. His widow, daughters, and one of his best friends will share these recollections as we strive to honour his memory. First, let us pray.”

Everyone in the church stood up. They all looked directly at Rev. Leonard. Pippa’s dad didn’t give Amanda the friendliest of looks. He still harboured traditional views about women vicars.

Four eulogies and ten hymns later, the procession of mourners started to come out of the church. There was no uniformed movement. The people who’d come to pay their respects moved individually away from the entrance to St. Vorlyn’s.

Rosie had somehow found herself mingling with them. She moved round those hanging about near the church’s entrance. Her legs seemed to be deciding her destination for her. They took her out the churchyard, and onto the pavement. She halted when it hit her she’d no idea why she’d come this way. Rosie was about to turn back when Alicia found her.

“What are you doing on the street?”

“I so don’t have a clue, Ali!”

“Well, you totally need to hurry back – your dad’s coffin’s being brought out of the church!”

Rosie quickened her step as she followed Alicia back there. She slid sideways between her mum and sister. When Amanda began the “ashes-to-ashes” speech, Rosie took Pippa’s and Charlotte’s hands. Together, the three of them delved their fingers into the soil box. Within seconds, 3 lots of dried earth landed on the coffin lid, scattering on impact.

Under an hour later, half those paying their respects filled up the downstairs rooms. There’d been no actual plan to hold a wake, but Pippa told them they could come back to the house. She and Charlotte rustled up a buffet for them. They didn’t have time to organise what food to put where. The arrangement of the foods on offer looked improvised. Needing a break from chatting to her visitors, Pippa made her way into the corridor. She was at the foot of the stairs when Charlotte walked into the hallway.

“Mum, I think we need more couscous; we’ve only got one bowlful, and there’s half of it left.”

“No need to bother – we’ve got plenty of food as it is.”

Hearing Martin call her name, Charlotte returned to the back room. At roughly the same time, Jennifer emerged from the front one. Seeing her seated on the stairs, she noticed her besieged expression.

“What’s up?”

“I’m starting to wish I’d never invited people back here. I’m not sure I’m as up to entertaining guests as I thought I was.”

“Do you want me to take over?”

Councillor Trennell briefly kept her friend waiting for an answer.

“No, you’re okay, Jennifer. The wake was my stupid idea – I’ll just have to manage.”

“Nobody’s going to mind if you can’t”

“They mightn’t, but I would”

“You’re being too hard on...”

A knock on the door occurred before Jennifer finished her sentence. Pippa got up and opened it. She stepped onto the driveway and spotted a white box. Picking it up, she walked across to the hedge on the right-hand side. Jennifer quickly came up behind her. Pippa removed the lid of the box and peered inside. When she saw its contents – a dead hen – she dropped it as if it were too hot to hold. Jennifer collected it off the ground and saw what had spooked Councillor Trennell.

She deduced immediately this was a symbolic death threat...the hen representing the mother. Evelyn had once told Jennifer that vampires sometimes used animals and birds to forewarn people they were going to die. It was while she was studying the hen’s corpse, Jennifer realised that the box’s delivery was a way of luring Councillor Trennell outside her house.

“Pips – get back indoors! They’re...”

Suddenly, Lynette Eddington zipped onto the driveway. She produced a pair of scissors and stabbed Pippa four times in just one second. DCI Stoneham grabbed her from behind and tossed her against one of the cars parked in the street. While Jennifer checked her friend’s wound, Lynette scarpered faster than the naked eye could see.

“First Doug, and now me” said Pippa, trying to catch her breath.

“Don’t talk”

Jennifer carried Pippa over to her car, whilst unlocking it automatically. She laid her down on the backseat. There was no time to tell her daughters what was happening. DCI Stoneham set off from Pippa’s house, immediately after closing the front door. Leaving it open would’ve suggested to the people inside that something might be amiss. 11 minutes later, they were at Catherine’s ten-floor property. She scooped up Councillor Trennell and ferried her over to the building’s entrance.

“Close my car doors, will you?” DCI Stoneham said to the security guard.

Like a chauffeur would, he shut the vehicle doors that were ajar. He opened the door to his employer’s building, whilst Jennifer took Pippa inside. The security guard then helped DCI Stoneham with getting her badly-injured mate into the lift. He didn’t go up with them, though. Only Pippa and Jennifer emerged when it reached the top floor. The man in charge of the premises’ security had alerted Catherine to their arrival. She was stood by the lift as its doors opened.

“What happened to her?” asked Lady Cullmore, seeing the state Pippa was in.

“One of the Eddington sisters lured Pips outside”

“Why didn’t you take her to the hospital?”

“I want you to turn her”

“Shouldn’t it be you?”

“It shouldn’t, no”

“I think you’re a better candidate – she’s your friend, and you don’t want her to die. That’s the purest motive for turning someone there is”

DCI Stoneham took her barely-conscious friend over to one of the couches in Catherine’s huge living room. Placing her there, she said “I swore I’d never do this, Pips...I’m sorry” and then carried out the ‘turning’ process.

After the deed was done, Jennifer felt the spot where the scissors had been inserted. She couldn’t physically detect any sign there’d been a wound.

“So, what’s your next move?”

“Take her home, Catherine, and break the news to her privately.”

“What about her daughters?”

“Only Rosie knows. Charlotte’s still in the dark, which makes her less of a target. Will turning them be unavoidable?”

“It will for their mother.”

“I can’t see Pippa wanting that responsibility”

“Convince her, Jennifer. I know you can.”