“It is for me, but I needed to convince Peter. Also, we may need more professional help on this case so we need a DNA sample and when we get the results things will be definite and we can move forward more confidently.”
“OK.”
“Did you do as I asked and not say anything to anyone about this?”
“Of course.”
“Sorry. I just had to ask. I’m concerned about who we can trust, that’s all.”
“I think we’re wasting time. We need to find Anne.”
“I know, Claire, but I’m going to need help to do that and right now this is the best way to get everyone on our side. You’ve really helped. If you hadn’t come up to London and managed to get a look at her we wouldn’t even be this far on.”
“I know, Isobel. Thanks.”
“What time did you drop your sample in?”
“About half past five.”
“So the results could be available any time from six tomorrow.”
“Will you let me know as soon as possible what you decide to do when everyone believes me?”
“I promise I’ll keep you informed. I know waiting is hard.”
“Yes,” then in a stronger voice, “Yes. Call me when you know more. I promise I’ll do as you ask but please don’t keep me in the dark.”
Isobel could feel a lump in her throat. “I promise.”
“Thank you all for caring about my sister.”
“I have a sister too.”
After the call, Isobel pressed another contact and sent a text.
Hi Sis, hope you are all enjoying the trip to America. Keep sending me photos. Catch-up when you get back.
Then she phoned her brother. “Hi, Dave.”
“Hi, Isobel. Where are you? It’s kind of late? Are you ringing from Patricia’s?”
“No. We’re still at Peter’s. This case has taken a bit of an unexpected turn but we’re getting closer to the truth, thank God.”
“You sound tired.”
“I am a bit, but it’s been really good.”
“Isobel, are you sure you’re not doing too much? You were starting to get better and I don’t want you wearing yourself out.”
“Dave, I’m fine. I’m enjoying the challenge.”
“Please take it easy. Get some sleep and ring me tomorrow. Everyone sends their love.”
“Give them my love. Talk tomorrow.”
Dave was right, she was tired.
Very soon she and Patricia were on the Tube home.
Isobel arched an eyebrow and smiled. “Did you and Peter have dinner together tonight?”
Patricia blushed. “Yes, as a matter of fact we did. And we talked about the case.”
“Nothing else?”
Patricia shifted in her seat. “Well . . .”
“Spit it out, girl.”
“Well, I made a sort of joke at one stage that my made-up son had started to seem almost real to me and that I really liked Miss English and if I had a child I would love them to have a teacher like her and before I knew it we were talking about whether either of us wanted kids and our ideas about their upbringing and education.”
“Pretty serious talk for a first date.”
“It wasn’t a date. We had dinner together because we both had to eat and we were hanging around waiting for you!”
“So you didn’t enjoy it then and there was no wine.”
Patricia shot her a look. “There was wine, and I did enjoy it. I suppose the thing is we know so much about each other from working together that it’s really certain areas of our lives that we have to catch up on. I know how he likes his coffee and what suit he’ll wear on a given day but I don’t know how he feels about certain things, or what he wants from life. And then later he talked about his mother. In a way I realised tonight how little I knew of the real man. I had made up things in my head but tonight I was talking to a real person and then hearing things about his life, painful things.”
“And were you disappointed or disillusioned?”
“No – actually it was really good. It made me think about him more as a person. Tonight when you were in the other room talking to Claire he talked about how he missed his mother growing up. He said that he’d now started going to counselling. He actually said you made him.” Patricia lowered her head and looked up from under her eyelashes at Isobel. “He said that it was helpful and that he was going to continue. He said that he realises now that he’d kept everyone out. He was really honest.”
Patricia paused and Isobel waited.
“It’s got me thinking about my own life more and what I want. These last few days, trying to find out things, interviewing people, I’ve really enjoyed it. Maybe I stayed in my job because I liked Peter and now it’s time to find something I really want to do.”
Isobel tilted her head in acknowledgement. “I think that’s great, Patricia.”
“Yes. This case seems to be changing us all.”
“Yes, I think you’re right.”
Patricia said no more, and they lapsed into a companionable silence.
Isobel looked out at the darkness outside the carriage. She felt different too. Her instincts had proved correct. Uncovering this about Anne had given her a thrill, a sense of purpose, something important to think about and she liked it. She felt as if she was pitting her will against a puzzle and she was determined to solve it.
Isobel slept deeply that night. In her dreams a blonde woman appeared beside her. She kept her face covered with her hair and she whispered, “Help me, help me!” Sometimes she walked ahead and reached back to pull Isobel forward and at other times she disappeared and there was the same disembodied voice whispering, “Help me, help me!”
Chapter 20
Sunday 27th May
Isobel woke early and sat looking out of Patricia’s apartment window, reflecting on her dream. She couldn’t shake the feeling that the dream had been about Anne begging her to find out what was happening and, with that in mind, she had a plan of what she wanted to do today while they waited for the DNA to come back. Patricia had half-heartedly suggested that she accompany her, but Isobel put her off. She guessed that Patricia wanted to see Peter and Isobel was looking forward to some time alone. While she’d been sick she’d spent a lot of time quietly resting on the couch and looking out at her flowers and plants and that contrasted sharply with being in the city and meeting lots of new people. It was a bit overwhelming.
Now she sat on the train looking out at the countryside passing by and felt relaxed, almost hypnotised. She was determined to talk to Brian Poole again and find out what he was lying about. She wanted to surprise him with her visit but there was always the risk that he wouldn’t be there.
He wasn’t. She rang the doorbell a few more times then turned and looked out towards the road, wondering what she should do. She was just about to leave when the door of the house adjacent opened.
A rotund woman with permed brown hair and hazel eyes stepped out. “Hello. You were here yesterday with Brian. Did you forget something?”
Isobel smiled. Clearly Neighbourhood Watch was alive and well. “Yes, that’s right. Do you know where he is? Will he be long, do you think?”
“Oh, I wouldn’t imagine so. Brian normally goes to Service and then he comes home and cooks his dinner. He shouldn’t be too long. Would you like to have a cup of tea while you wait?”
“Oh yes, that would be lovely.”
In a short time Isobel was sitting in Mrs Irene Smart’s front room with a cup of tea and a scone. Irene loved to talk so Isobel figured she had nothing to lose by getting her impressions of Brian.
“Have you lived beside Brian for long?”
“He bought the house about six years ago, but I know him from when he was a little boy. He grew up near here. He’s very quiet and such a good neighbour. He keeps an eye out and if there are any big jobs in the garden he does them for me.”
“Yes, he is quiet and maybe a bit intense, perhaps too intense.” Isobel smiled t
o soften her words.
“No, just quiet, and helpful.”
Isobel tried another tack. “I’m surprised that he’s still single. As you say he’s helpful and quite good-looking – you’d imagine he would have a girlfriend.”
“Oh, well,” said Irene, leaning in towards Isobel, “he had a woman but unfortunately it didn’t work out. I don’t think he ever got over it.”
Isobel leant forward too and lowered her voice, “Really. Did you know the woman?”
“Oh yes, one of the village girls. Very sad really. They met very young. I did wonder, though, when I saw her here one morning at about eleven o’clock a few months ago. I thought maybe they were getting back together but I haven’t seen her since.”
Isobel’s smile was a mask, her mind whirring, “Are you sure it was the young woman he fell in love with?”
“Oh, yes, definitely – Anne Graham – she grew up here too. She’s married in London now and has a child. She looked the same as ever. Brian was off work sick that day. He’s never sick. I was going to ask him about Anne when I saw him next but when I mentioned the day he told me that he’d been asleep all day. I realised he didn’t want to talk about Anne and, since she hasn’t been back, I assumed that things were not on again between them. Anyway, it’s none of my business but I was hoping for some happiness for Brian.”
“Of course, of course.”
Irene pointed out the back window. “Brian helped me with those roses. He really does have green fingers.”
Isobel stepped to the window, admiring the roses enthusiastically.
Irene suggested that they go out to inspect the other flowers, which Isobel was delighted to do. Before long they could hear a car stopping close by.
“That’s Brian home now.”
Isobel slowly gathered her belongings and took her time saying goodbye, allowing Brian time to get into the house.
As Isobel went up the path to Brian’s front door she realised that, while his intensity had made her nervous the last time, with this new information she felt much more confident about tackling him.
He answered her sharp knock very quickly. When he saw her standing on the doorstep his face fell.
“I’ve nothing more to add to what I said the other day,” he said, starting to swing the door closed again.
“I think you have, and I would prefer to discuss this inside or the whole neighbourhood will see and hear us talking,” Isobel said, raising her voice.
He stared at her.
She met his gaze, maintaining a relaxed demeanour. Leaning close, she said, “Like her visit a few months ago.”
His mouth fell open.
Isobel stepped back. “We can discuss it here or inside.”
With a growl of impatience he swung the door wide open. “I still have nothing to add,” he said as he led the way into the sitting room.
Isobel stood. “Things have changed since I was here last, Brian.”
“Not for me.”
“No, not for you but I know more now.”
Brian said nothing.
“I know for a fact that you’ve seen Anne in the last few months.”
“How can you know that?”
“I have witnesses.”
He looked away.
“You also have her photo upstairs.” Isobel pulled out her phone with her copy of the photo.
Mesmerised, Brian reached out for it. His eyes fastened on Anne’s image.
“You really love her.” It was a question but also a statement.
“I always have.” He said it simply, clearly, unashamedly and with longing.
Isobel’s eyes welled up with tears. She sat down on the sofa and a distracted Brian followed.
“You’re worried about Anne,” she said.
Brian nodded, his eyes still on Anne’s image. Without looking up, almost as if he was talking to himself, he said, “So worried, I don’t know what to do to help her, what to do for the best. I’ve been waiting for her to contact me again to send me some sign of how I can help now.”
Isobel realised that Brian was responding to her as someone almost hypnotised. As she made statements that mirrored the thoughts that were circling in his head he was opening up. It was clearly almost a relief for him to voice them.
Not wanting to break the atmosphere, she searched her mind for what to say. “Things have changed and you’re not sure what you can do to help.”
“Yes,” Brian breathed.
“Anne had a plan, now it seems different.”
At this Brian looked up and the spell was broken.
“Please tell me what was happening with Anne,” she said, “so that I also know better how to help her.”
Brian shook his head. “You’re on her solicitor’s team – how can you not know how to help her?”
“Please, Brian, just tell me what you know and what’s been happening so that I understand.”
“Listen, when Anne came to me a few months ago she had no one to trust. I hadn’t seen her in years, and I was still the person that seemed the safest for her to trust. Now, you want me to tell you things when she’s your client. Get real. She’ll tell you what she wants you to know. I don’t know what her plan is now, so I don’t want to mess it up for her and I’m saying nothing.” He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and rubbed his eyes with it.
“Please tell me her original plan.”
“Look, if Anne has decided that divorce is the best option for her then I have to respect that. Yes, I’m surprised. Yes, it’s a change of plan but it’s her choice.”
Isobel pinched her lips and shrugged her shoulders. “Maybe.”
Brian’s brow furrowed. “Maybe? What do you mean?”
Isobel again wondered what the right thing to do was. Could she trust this man? What was his part in all of this? He could be having an affair with Anne, hiding her, helping her to run away or implicated in a more sinister way. She didn’t want to reveal anything she knew but she wanted more information from him.
“Look, Brian – yes, Peter is Anne’s solicitor but the reason I’m on the case is that he is concerned that Anne might be under duress from Thomas to take a bad settlement agreement. She assures us that this isn’t the case but at this stage we’re very concerned that her interests are not protected. Our whole reason for talking to you was to make a better judgment about what’s been going on so that we can see what, if anything, we can do. I’ve come back to you because we know that Anne must have given you that picture and we know that she visited you a few months ago. You’ve just told me that she had nowhere else to go and I’m begging you – fill in the gaps for us, so that we know better how to move forward.” She paused then said, “For Anne’s sake. We’re trying to help.” She waited.
Brian stood up, walked to the window and looked out. He rubbed his face with his hand as if somehow the wiping could make things clear for him. Clearly, internally a battle was raging.
The silence stretched. It was almost as if he had forgotten she was there.
Eventually, Isobel said gently, “Please, Brian, trust us. Peter could have just done the contract. We care. We’re worried. We’re trying our best. Please help us.”
He looked over. His eyes were tormented.
In the end, it was a surrender, a laying down of a worry and stress he could carry no more. When he started to talk it was as if to himself, reliving what had happened.
Isobel just listened.
“I hadn’t seen Anne for at least five years, then, a few months ago, out of the blue, on a Monday morning, I got a call that she needed to see me urgently. I was at work, I asked her to wait until the weekend. She said no, she was on her way down, it had to be now, today, she only had an hour. She asked me to go home sick from work and meet her at my cottage. I knew she was in a state, so I did what she asked. I couldn’t believe it when she told me.”
He looked up, unsure one last time, then taking a deep breath he pressed on.
“He, Thomas,” he spat out the nam
e, “he had nearly strangled her the night before.” His voice broke and he buried his face in his hands. “She had a scarf on but she showed me her neck. Oh my God. She nearly died. She was terrified. He –” he stumbled in his narrative then taking a ragged breath said, “He’d warned her that if she went to the doctor he would beat Tommy. Anne was terrified that he would find out that she’d been to see me. She’d been reading a book, The Gift of Fear. She knew that chances were this would happen again and she would maybe not survive the next time, so she wanted to leave, secretly.” He looked at Isobel. “She didn’t contact her sister because she knew Thomas would check there. In fact, we agreed that he might also guess she’d come to me. She was terrified. I contacted a friend of mine who works in the local woman’s shelter and she talked to Anne. Fifteen minutes later she rang back with the number of a place in London where they help women get away and make a new start somewhere else. Anne contacted them and was planning to leave, just her and Tommy, to find a new life, in a new place. It meant starting again with nothing, but she was prepared to do that. She knew he would track her if he could, so I also was to know nothing. Anne, when she was settled, would eventually get in touch.”
He gazed at Isobel, his eyes bleak.
“When I heard about the divorce I assumed that maybe she’d changed her plan. She didn’t contact me again so I left it like that in case I made things worse. But worried, that’s an understatement. From what Anne had been saying, Thomas wasn’t going to let her go, so she would have to run – hence I was very surprised to hear about the divorce.”
Isobel swallowed deeply. She could feel a horrible anxiety starting in her stomach but tried not to let it show. “Do you have the number of the person in London that your friend referred Anne to? I just want to see if maybe she knows why Anne changed her mind about what she was doing. I would feel more confident about the divorce if I could speak to this woman.”
Brain looked at her in silence. Isobel could feel herself heating up under his gaze.
“I can see that,” he said. “I shouldn’t have kept the number, but I did – just in case.”
What Lies Hidden Page 13