Chapter 10 #2
“From her, yes. I just like growing things and cooking, really.” The kettle boiled, the noise filling the room. Lily kept her gaze away from me, looking out at the garden instead.
I carried mine and Wrigley’s drinks into the living room, making sure to place them on a mat. Lily had filled a teapot with her homemade blend, bringing just a cup with it.
“This isn’t sweet enough.” Wrigley pulled his face at the first sip.
“Probably because it’s just boiled, Sir. It’ll be too hot to taste.”
He gave me the dirtiest of looks, then rearranged his expression when he looked at Lily.
“I’m DI Wrigley from the same unit as DS McAllister here.
Thank you for having us round so we can try to find out some more information about Amanda Goodhew.
” His tone was softer than normal and he was giving out the kind uncle vibe that I’d seen him do once or twice.
Wrigley was one of the best at interviewing; he was experienced and quick thinking, never missing a beat when something threw a curve ball.
I’d learned a lot from working with him and I’d miss him when he retired.
But I could see he was ready to retire, and a new DI would spice up the team.
“I understand it might be difficult to talk about her, but your help would really be appreciated.”
Lily sat up a little higher, looking a little surprised at Wrigley’s tone. “Like I said to DS McAllister, I haven’t seen Amanda for seventeen years, so I’m not sure I can offer much.”
“We’re looking into more than seventeen years ago. We don’t think your mother was living much differently than what she did then; growing her own veg and plants, living off the grid, and still involved with a group called The Holding.” He paused, giving space for Lily to interrupt.
She didn’t. The silence was left hanging.
“We believe your parents were active members of the group and that the beliefs of the group impacting on your upbringing. We’re trying to find out as much information as we can about The Holding, or any adults your parents were friendly with.
” It was without dressing, unacknowledging of any distress she might have about the past.
Lily didn’t respond, taking a few sips of her tea like she was drawing precious oxygen from it.
“I understand that it might be difficult to remember, and we’re sorry for dredging up the past. We’re searching for leads about how your mother died, and this is one of the few we have.” I said, wondering if she needed more of a “softly softly” approach, one that showed her more care.
She put the cup down and looked at Wrigley then me, deliberately done, as if she was about to address her audience.
“The Holding was a co-operative. It was a group of local people who met and helped each other to grow their own. They would plan who was growing what, and then look at trading goods between each other. It became a bit more shared equally than trading. Amanda would make jams and preserves from the fruit in the garden which people liked. I suppose it was very wholesome and a simpler way of living.” She topped her cup up from the teapot, maybe congratulating herself because she’d not given away a single thing about her.
“Did you have to help Amanda with the jams?” Wrigley sat a little further forward on the chair, arms on his knees to keep his body up, or so it looked.
Lily kept her gaze straight, not focusing on either of us. “I’d rather not talk about what my life was like. I’ll tell you everything I can about The Holding.”
Wrigley looked at me, taking his coffee and screwing his face up again at the lack of sugar. It translated to you ask the question.
“Can you remember any of the other adults in The Holding?” I wondered if this was too much because it was still about her. “We don’t think the group were online at all, so we’ve not been able to locate anyone to speak to.”
Lily nodded, as if she’d made her mind up about something.
“The Holding believed that we were ruining the planet – which, you know, I don’t think they were wrong.
They wanted to live as they would’ve done three hundred years ago; no technology, homesteads, community and promoting nature.
Quite a few members were vegetarian, although not everyone and it wasn’t expected that you became veggie.
There were meetings every day, including on a Sunday morning. ”
“Like church?” Wrigley said.
“Yes and no. There was no service, but it was where the main food swap would happen, so more like a market but with speeches. There were a lot of old people who couldn’t get there, so afterwards people from the meetings would take food round to them.
Some of the adults and some of the children would do chores for them to help them out.
” She stopped speaking, almost abruptly, then focused on her tea.
Whatever we’d first thought a couple of days ago when we’d first met her had changed. Lily wasn’t okay, and this was possibly making her worse.
I glanced at Wrigley, wondering if he’d thought the same.
“Can you remember any of their names, Lily?” I pushed.
“I was fourteen and it’s over half my life away. I can’t even remember the names of the kids I was in school with. A lot has happened since then.”
The loss she’d had, whether it’d been at her own hands or not, was significantly traumatic, plus the conviction and what that had led to.
“I understand. Where was the place you met at? Was it Millthorpe?” I asked, prompting.
Lily nodded. “Yes. I haven’t thought about that place for ages. It was a farmhouse and barn in the middle of nowhere and it was huge. Lots of the members used the fields to grow on and we had some members who were paid to do the labour.”
Which meant there would be a money trail, however faint. We had all of the paper files from Amanda’s house back at the Fishbowl; I could see a long night ahead of going through them.
“How many people were involved, could you hazard a guess?” Wrigley asked quietly.
Lily shook her head. “There were different people there each time, or I didn’t remember them.
I wasn’t really interested in The Holding.
” She stood up, picking up the teapot and cup.
“This has made me think about things I’d rather not.
If you don’t mind, I’m going to call my therapist and see if she’s got time to talk to me. ”