“Oh my god Jill it’s so dusty up here!” Ava coughed as she lifted the attic door and insulation rained down on them both.
“And pitch black, pass me the torch”.
Jill reached as high as her tiptoes would allow passing her the long black baton flash light to her sister.
Ava clicked it on, blinding herself momentarily and seeing spots before focusing in on the junk pilled high in front of her.
Disfigured cardboard boxes mainly marked with “Xmas decks” scrawled across them. Next to a plastic tree wrapped tightly inside a large bin bag. Resembling a murdered cadaver.
“Can you see any suitcases? I think the boxes are behind those?”
Jill called up to her sister.
Ava now balancing on the wooden struts and careful not to fall into the foam.
“Yep I see them, looks like there’s three in total. Mine, yours and… Michael’s?”
Jill’s head popped up from the hatch. “What? As in dad’s brother Michael?”
“Guess so.. Why would she keep his stuff here?”
“Bring them all down and we’ll ask her when she gets back with Izzy”
“What actually happened to him? Did she ever tell you? When ever I ask about dad’s side of the family I get shrugged off. It’s like she’s trying to forget they ever existed”.
Ava blew a strand of loose brown hair from off her face as she lifted the boxes down onto the ladder.
“I think she said he was a drug addict and disappeared whilst back packing through South America. Dad must have kept some of his keep sakes and mums just shoved them in the loft and forgotten. Maybe this will get her talking?”
A trail of dust followed the two women as they carried the old boxes through the house and onto the kitchen table top.
Jill removed the lid gently, inspecting the contents closely before reaching inside and removing objects.
A red cashmere scarf. Beautifully soft but almost damp smelling.
A framed photo of young groomsman, beaming with smiling faces.
Jill’s eyes lit up when she recognised her late father, pointing him out to her sister, “Ava look that’s dad. I’m almost positive”.
Her sister took the picture and scanned over it closely.
“He looks way younger than the other photos I’ve seen and the guy next to him looks the spitting image. That must be Michael”
Jill’s attention faded back to the box and pulled out a cassette. It’s plastic case cracked but the cover still legible. “Gillian’s Confession”
“Mum?… what do you reckon this might be? Do you think that’s mum?”
“God I haven’t seen a tape in years” Ava gasped
“Hold on, wait a minute!” She grabbed the lid of the box labelled Ava and began digging inside. Moments later grabbing at a Sony Walkman, with batteries still retaining life. “Let’s find out!”
Both women grabbed an earphone each before Ava clicked the faded play button.
Through the clear plastic, they watched the cassette spokes stutter then spin. As a voice whirled into life.
“The time is 10:42am, April 15th 1993. My name is officer Benson.
With me is Officer McNeil and mrs Gillian Harrington. This is being recorded in interrogation room C3. Mrs Harrington has agreed to be formally interviewed in regards to the death of Mr James Harrington at 3:05 earlier this morning”
Open mouthed Ava and Jill stared at each other in disbelief.
“Mrs Harrington can you describe the events that lead up to your husbands death?”.
The room fell silent for moment. “Let the record show Mrs Harrington is nodding in agreement. In your own time Gillian please walk us through what happened”
A metal chair shuffled and scraped, squealing into the tape recorder. Before a soft, shallow voice began to speak.
“It was late and a loud crash in the kitchen woke me up.
Terrified I reached over for James but his side of the bed was flat. I called out to him in the darkness but he wasn’t there.
My eyes shot open when I thought of the girls in the room next door. So I reached for my night gown and gripped the handle, twisting it slowly and peering out onto the landing”
Gillian bean audibly sobbing.
“I couldn’t see anything, it was pitching black. I had to feel my way towards their room.
As I got there I felt a hand grab my shoulder.
I didn’t think I just screamed and pushed back as hard as I could.
The next thing I know, James was tumbling down the stairs. Crashing into each before landing in a heap at the foot of the stairs.
I swear I didn’t realise it was him, I couldn’t think straight and the girls began crying. I had to go to them.”
“Okay Mrs Harrington, so after you consoled Your children then what happened?”
“I heard yelling from downstairs. Michael my husbands brother had been staying with us and the noise must have woken him. I stood at the top of the stairs looking down on them.
Michael pacing frantically and James not moving on the floor.
Michael saw me and ran up the stairs after me, screaming that I was a fucking murderer!
I ran back into the girls room and barricaded the door.
He was banging and punching the door to try and break it down.
It felt like forever, then I heard police sirens.”
“Your husband was pronounced dead at the scene, his neck had broken on impact. From the fall after you pushed him, correct?”
“I think so, yes”
“Mrs Harrington, when we arrived at your home you were distressed but you told us quite clearly that Michael had pushed him and you believed he might kill you next, why was that?”
The crying became louder and more frantic.
“Because I was scared! It was a reaction. I love James, I never would have hurt him”.
Ava stopped the tape, tears filling her eyes.
“She killed him! Jill what the fuck? Our mum killed our Dad. She lied to us!”
He front door suddenly sprang open. “Okay Izzy please hang your coat up, don’t just leave it on the floor.
Sorry we’re late, traffic on the school run was manic.
Tell me what did you find?” Gillian after finally noticing the boxes and the horrified expression on both her daughters faces.