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‘Don’t, Clara.’ She reaches out to me, her voice sounding strangled. ‘Please don’t.’
‘What?’ I stare at her in confusion. ‘Don’t put the kettle on?’
‘Don’t phone the police.’
‘But why not? We need to get your things back from the pawnbroker’s.’
‘Oh, God.’ She looks at me with terror in her eyes. ‘If you phone the police, they’ll find out who pawned the bracelet and Lois’s rings.’
‘Yes?’ I say slowly, feeling my insides shift uneasily.
What’s going on? Why isn’t she ecstatic at the thought of getting everything back?
Her eyes are filled with anguish. ‘There’s no point pretending. You’re going to find out now, anyway.’
‘What do you mean, Irene?’
‘It was me, Clara.Iwas the one who pawned everything.’
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
I stare at her in disbelief. ‘So it wasn’t the intruder who stole the jewellery? It was you?’
She nods her head, looking crushed.
‘But why? Why would you...?’ I shake my head. ‘It doesn’t make any sense. Who was the person who broke in? What did they want? And why would you pawn your own bracelet and Lois’s rings? You don’t need the money.’
She looks back at me, white-faced, but says nothing. Her knees are pulled up to her chest, her arms wrapped tightly around them as if to take up the smallest space possible. Then she drops her face onto her knees in despair. ‘It’s complicated,’ she mumbles. ‘You don’t understand. Ididneed the money. I needed it desperately, otherwise I would never have–’ She breaks off with an appalled shake of her head.
I stare at her. She’s right. I really don’t understand. How could she be desperate for cash? Dad left Irene really well provided for. Okay, the money’s tied up in the house, but she also has her widow’s pension, which is more than enough for her everyday needs. She can’t have been spending that much money on booze, surely? She hasn’t even been going out lately.
‘But why, Irene?’ I ask her softly. ‘You must have known Lois would be devastated to lose her rings.’
She looks up, nodding miserably. ‘I didn’t think it through. I just saw my chance to get the cash I needed after thatbastardbroke in. I knew you’d assume it was him who’d stolen the jewellery...’
I subside onto the end of the bed, my mind in a whirl.But why the need for instant cash?
Something else is nagging at my brain... something she said...
After that bastard broke in.
‘Irene? Do you know who it was who broke in the other night and left those Russian dolls?’
There’s a long silence as she stares down at her knees and I watch her closely.
At last, she looks up. ‘Yes. I know who it was,’ she says heavily. ‘He left his calling card– those bloody horrible dolls– so that I’d knowexactlywho was trying to scare me.’
‘So who was it?’ I stare at her in horror. ‘You have to tell the police.’
‘I can’t, Clara.’
‘Why not?’
‘I’m being blackmailed. That bastard has me by the short and curlies, and if I shop him to the police, everything will come out, and then Lois will know–’
Her face crumples, she covers her face with her hands and starts crying... terrifying, racking sobs that shake her whole body. I’ve never in my life seen Irene break down like this. Even when Dad died, she kept her tears for when she was alone, insisting to us that she was fine. Seeing her like this is deeply shocking.
‘Lois will know what, Irene?’ I murmur, laying my hand on her arm, but she just shakes her head and carries on sobbing her heart out. ‘Have you still got the money you made from the jewellery? It’s not too late to go to the pawnbrokers and get it all back, is it?’
