She crept out of the room but as her hand went to pull the door to, Iris spoke, her eyes still closed.
‘By the way, any news with your break-in?’
‘Nothing. Police haven’t had any leads.’
‘Funny how you’ve had two in the same number of years. Makes me nervous.’
‘Just unlucky,’ lied Kate.
Iris nodded and was quiet.
Kate waited a moment, then left the room and closed the front door softly behind her.
FORTY-THREE
They were all crammed into Rob’s front room until Abby, his daughter, suggested they go into the garden. Outside on the overgrown lawn was a bench-and-table set, like the sort found in pubs, and the villagers sat or perched with a couple spilling onto folding garden chairs. Everyone was there with the exception of Nick and Grace, who were in hospital with Arnie.
Kate tried to speak to everyone in turn, small snippets of catch-up conversation. Sunita was next to Ian and Hazel. Helen, Rob’s wife, had managed to come to the meeting and was sitting in a garden chair, with Abby at her feet. The evening was warm, and the sun was just beginning to dip in the sky, bathing everyone in a golden light. Behind them, in the fields, the oilseed rape was aglow. A blackbird was singing his heart out, his melodious call amplified on the still, warm air.
Rob came into the garden looking harried. ‘Does anyone want a coffee or a tea?’ he asked feebly and everyone, perhaps sensing his exhaustion, declined. He turned to Kate: the floor was hers.
She stood and faced everyone. Some faces were more trusting than others, but all of them had the battle-hardened look of people who had experienced more heartache in their lives than was fair. Right at the front was Abby, who was looking at her intently. Kate had been surprised, and a little uncomfortable, to see that she was there. The outcome of this meeting had a direct impact on her, but that, Rob had insisted, was exactly the reason she was there.
Kate cleared her throat. ‘Thank you, everyone, for coming here today. As you know from my email, the reason we’ve met is that one of you has been approached by—’
‘They know who it is,’ interrupted Rob.
She looked at him and he shrugged.
‘OK . . . so, Rob has been approached by Justin Holmes and has been made a financial offer, a compensatory offer. However, the stipulation is that he – and the rest of you – would need to withdraw from any legal action in order for this payment to be made. If only one, or a few of you agree to pull out, the offer is off the table. It would have to be everyone.’
A low murmur started up and Kate held up her hand, so she could continue. ‘Rob has also said that Justin indicated further payments would be available to other families who decided not to sue, although this hasn’t been confirmed.’
‘He seemed pretty certain,’ said Rob.
The murmur started up again and Kate spoke louder. ‘This is one route to explore. The alternative is that we continue, and we take this case to court. I have to be honest, I do believe the rewards would be greater – and just as importantly, this scandal would be out in the public.’
‘And how long,’ said Hazel, ‘until we take this to court?’
It was the question Kate knew would come but dreaded answering. ‘I don’t know. I’m not going to lie to you people. There’s work I still need to do but I’m doing my damnedest to get all the pieces in place.’
‘And in the meantime, what happens to us?’ asked Ian.
‘I appreciate that this is hard, the waiting, the frustration, but I need a little more time.’
‘Time’s up, lady,’ said Rob.
Her heart sank but how could she, in all honesty, argue with him? Maybe she should just walk away, tell them all to ask Justin for payouts. Maybe that was the fairest, most decent thing she could do. Let him pay them, God knows they deserved something. She was about to voice these thoughts when Sunita stood.
‘The way I see it, we had nothing before Kate came to us. She’s the one who started all this, who put the idea into our heads. She’s the one who’s been working her socks off. I think we need to follow this through. It’s too important not to.’
‘That’s easy for you to say,’ said Rob, ‘you’re in remission.’
Sunita looked stung. ‘It’s not about that.’
‘You going to stop my daughter from getting what she needs?’
Helen put a hand on Rob’s arm and, still bristling, he stopped talking.
‘I think we should put it to a vote,’ said Kate. ‘Those who want to withdraw from the case, raise your hands.’
Rob’s hand shot up instantly, followed by Helen’s. Ian’s too.
‘Those who want to continue?’ said Kate.
Sunita and Hazel. They already knew that Grace and Nick had voted in favour.
She didn’t need to spell out who had won. Rob’s face was dark and desperate.
‘You lot,’ he said, pointing, ‘you’re playing with a little girl’s life.’ His voice was cracking. ‘What gives you the right to decide what happens to her?’
‘It’s not like that, Rob,’ said Hazel gently, trying to placate him, but he flung her hand away.
‘I just hope you’re satisfied. Whatever happens, this is on you.’
‘Now, hold on a minute,’ said Ian. ‘That’s my wife you’re speaking to like that.’
‘I don’t give a shit,’ said Rob. Then everyone was talking, shouting; months of worry and desperation exploding.
‘Everyone, please stop arguing!’
The voices quieted. Stopped to see who had spoken. Abby was standing in front of them.
‘It’ll be OK, Dad, it’ll be OK. We’ll find the money for London. And Kate’s gonna win for us. Right, Kate?’ And she turned and looked at Kate with such an expression of belief, it was like a punch to her gut.
Kate didn’t dare speak, just nodded.
The meeting broke up soon afterwards and Kate made her excuses and left. Rob wouldn’t even look at her, so she saw herself out and started the walk back down the lane towards the station.
Dusk had fallen now and under the trees, the fading light barely got through. The street lamps were sporadic, and she wished she’d brought a torch. As Kate passed Grace’s house, she sent a silent wish to Arnie, even though she knew he wasn’t there.
It had been an emotional evening and she was tired. It felt nice to be walking, although by the time she got a train back to London, it would be late. She wondered how Iris was, and whether Tim had managed to spend any time with her, and decided to call him to find out.
She stopped to open her bag but as her footsteps fell silent, she thought she heard another set behind her. She turned, but saw no one, just the dark, empty lane. The hairs went up on the back of her neck. It was strange; she could have sworn she’d heard something. She suddenly didn’t want to be standing there in the middle of the lane and hurried onwards.
She heard it again. The rhythmic tread of someone walking, the weight of the footsteps indicating it was a man. He must be behind her, following her. She quickened her pace but then all was silent. She risked another stop. Listened. Didn’t hear anything but her own pulse pumping in her ears. Perhaps she had imagined it.
A hand landed on her shoulder. She screamed, and a second hand covered her mouth.
‘Shush,’ said a voice in her ear. It was a voice she recognized, although she couldn’t place it. She went rigid with fear, knowing she wouldn’t be able to escape, to outrun him, even if she tried. His grip on her lessened, then he removed his hand, and it was Justin Holmes who stepped into her view.
‘What the—’ she started but he spoke over her.
‘You need to stop this thing. Who are you, anyway? Some sort of reporter?’
‘Stop what?’ she said tremulously.
‘Don’t mess about. You don’t know what you’re getting in to.’
Suddenly something snapped inside her. An animalistic anger and pain that boiled over, and she knew no fear. ‘Oh, I know,’ she
said. ‘I know exactly. I know what you’re doing in those fields. And I know what your bosses did to my daughter.’
He frowned. ‘What?’
‘They killed her! Got that man to mow her down on her bike. Eighteen months ago. An innocent girl, my girl.’
He staggered backwards. ‘You’re her mother?’
She felt all the air go out of her. He hadn’t denied it, it was true.
It was all she could do not to collapse. She made herself breathe. ‘I’m not going to be bullied by you. Or Rob. You’ve both become very pally. And you’re short-changing him. Ten thousand? It’s insulting. His daughter’s brain is worth a mere ten thousand to you?’
Justin didn’t answer, he was just staring at her and it was then she noticed something odd. He was hyper, wired. There was something frantic about the look in his eyes, a deep, long-suffering fear.
‘You need to stop, you need to.’ He’d grabbed her arms in his urgency and she tried to back away, but he was gripping her too hard. ‘Trust me, pack it in, while you still can.’
‘Get off! Get off me!’ He was frightening her, and she tried again to pull away. Eventually she shoved him off and then turned and ran.
FORTY-FOUR
The storm that had been threatening all day was finally coming, Kate could smell it. The metallic tang to the air, the sudden drop in temperature – like a monster’s cold breath warning of its imminent arrival.
Then, in the distance, the faint roll of thunder.
Oh God, please don’t rain, thought Kate, pulling her jacket closer. She’d forgotten her umbrella and didn’t know how long she’d have to wait, partially hidden by the perimeter hedge, outside this steel-and-glass building just off a roundabout in Surrey. It wasn’t her first visit that day – she’d also spent a fruitless two hours watching and waiting early that morning. And now she was back again, just making it for – she checked her watch – five forty-five, having bunked off work early, claiming to have a migraine.
It had seemed like a good idea the night before. She’d got home late and Tim had been waiting up. By the look on her face, his immediate thought was that the vote hadn’t gone well.
‘Does everyone want to quit?’ he’d asked as he made her a cup of tea.
‘No, only Rob, Helen and Ian. The others want to carry on. I saw Justin,’ she said, sinking down onto the kitchen chair. ‘I told him I knew Becky had been killed.’
‘Oh my God. What did he say?’
‘He didn’t deny it. He had every opportunity.’
Tim came and put his arms around her and she rested her head against his chest.
‘He also told me to stop.’
‘The campaign?’
‘Yes.’
‘So, he knows you’re behind it.’
She nodded.
‘Was he threatening?’
‘Not in so many words. Not like that email.’
‘Was that from him?’
‘I don’t know. I didn’t ask. At first, I was just terrified – he jumped me in the lane. Then I saw red, I was fuming at him.’ She shook her head. ‘I still don’t have enough for a watertight case . . . and they’re all so trusting. That girl . . . Rob’s girl. She looked me in the eye and said I could do it. But I don’t have enough. I still don’t even know who owns the farm.’
She rested her head in her hands, despondency seeping in. ‘I’m running out of money, Tim. I can’t keep this up. I can’t keep paying this forensic accountant.’
‘So, don’t.’
‘But then what? It’ll all be wasted. And I can’t do what I promised those people.’
‘But you can’t go bankrupt for them. They’d understand that.’ He paused. ‘Maybe it’s time . . .’ he started tentatively.
Her head shot up. ‘What?’
He shrugged. ‘There’s got to be a point when you have to call it a day. Practically, if nothing else. And the threats worry me . . .’
‘Threat,’ she corrected. ‘Only one so far.’
‘How many emails saying you’ll be killed do you want?’ said Tim, unable to hide his exasperation.
‘Are you saying I should stop?’
‘Don’t you want to?’ said Tim.
He was right. She knew he was right, but his instinct to give up the fight bothered her. Lately, he was always trying to subtly persuade her to chuck in the towel. Why should she be bullied into submission? Because you’ve had a death threat, said her inner voice, but this just made her more mutinous.
‘I’ve found my voice, Tim. For the first time in years – ever, in fact. I’m not the stupid girl from school any more who people pity. I’m listened to.’
If only that Adam would call her back. If only she could speak to him – and then she had a brainwave so obvious, she kicked herself for not thinking of it before.
‘I’ll go to his work,’ she said.
Tim frowned, frustrated by what he saw as another of her impulsive gambits.
‘Adam. I’ll go to his office, wait outside and I’ll catch him sooner or later. I’m going to make him talk to me.’
And that declaration, Kate remembered, had made for a coolish remainder of the night between her and Tim. A light kiss on the lips as they went to bed, and a brief goodnight, before they both turned over and lay back to back.
The thunder clapped again, louder this time. People were exiting via the revolving door at the front of the building, its wheel turning under the green-and-yellow brand logo that they’d all signed up to. Most of them headed to the car park at the side of the building.
A fat drop of rain landed on Kate’s hand. Then another. The anonymous workers were walking faster now, putting up umbrellas and hoods, which would make it harder to spot Adam amongst them.
Splat. Splat. Splat, splat, splat. Kate groaned. Why had she left her umbrella in the staff room? She could see it now, on the table where she’d had a tea break and eaten her pre-packed sandwiches.
The trickle of workers was growing to a steady stream and she had to concentrate, which was hard when the rain was pelting her eyeballs. Then she thought she saw him. He’d come through the door and was taking an umbrella out of its cover. A quick press of a button and it unfurled like a great black crow spreading its wings, shielding his red hair – which had thankfully made him stand out a little.
Kate moved from her position and quickly headed over to him. He was standing outside the building, looking around for someone.
‘Adam!’ she called as she approached.
He turned and then, recognizing her, his face fell.
She stood in front of him, drenched now, and saw him looking to escape. ‘Please, I need to talk to you.’
‘What are you doing here?’ he hissed, stepping away from her.
‘I believe you know something. About what’s going on in there,’ she said, nodding towards the building behind them. People were still leaving and giving her quizzical looks as they hurried to their cars. She must look a sight, standing there, hair plastered to her face, clothes sodden.
‘Please go away,’ Adam said, under his breath, pretending to act as if all was normal, as his colleagues nodded goodnights.
‘No. I won’t.’
He surreptitiously grabbed her arm and pulled her to one side. His outward demeanour was one of normality, but his voice was tense. ‘You’ve no idea what you’re doing,’ he seethed, ‘no idea at all.’
‘You’re hurting me,’ said Kate.
He seemed surprised at how hard he was holding her arm and let go apologetically. Then he looked over his shoulder towards the office. Kate followed his gaze. Was the security officer watching them or looking at the storm lighting up the sky?
A car drove in off the roundabout and pulled up outside the main entrance. She saw Adam’s look of relief, and realized this was his lift he’d been waiting for. Her time was up. She had to get through to him.
‘Please,’ she begged. ‘If you won’t do it for me, do it for Becky.’
He stiffened,
but then the driver’s window slid down and a young woman cocked her head. ‘Hiya,’ she said to Adam, but she was looking questioningly at Kate.
‘Er . . . this is Kate,’ he said.
‘Hello,’ said the girl, then she frowned, though not in an unfriendly way. ‘You look familiar. Have we met before?’
‘I don’t think so . . .’ said Kate, turning to Adam for a pointer.
‘This is my girlfriend,’ he said, ‘Trixie.’ And then he quickly went round to the other side of the car and got in, making it clear to Trixie that she should wind up her window. Kate ducked her head down so she could see into the car.
‘Please, Adam. Please think about this!’
Trixie looked bemused, but Adam stared straight ahead out of the windscreen. ‘It’s been nice seeing you again,’ he said, affecting a pleasant tone for appearances’ sake, and then he nudged Trixie and they drove off.
Kate thought about chasing them down the street but that would achieve nothing – it wasn’t as if she’d be able to keep up. A horn beeped impatiently behind her and she realized she was in the middle of the road. She moved out of the way, then began the long, wet walk back to the station.
FORTY-FIVE
‘But he’s obviously hiding something,’ said Kate, sitting at the kitchen table. She buttered some toast for her and Tim. ‘He was tense from the moment he saw me, more so because I doorstepped him at his work. And he didn’t want anyone to see us talking.’
‘I don’t disagree with you. But if he won’t talk to you, I can’t see how you’re going to make him,’ said Tim. He handed her a mug of tea and sat opposite her. ‘Have you had any more threatening messages? Phone calls?’
‘No, nothing.’
‘The silence makes me more nervous . . .’ said Tim. He looked at her for a response and she stopped eating.
‘I can’t give it up.’
Tim bit his tongue, but she knew he was exasperated. It was becoming a real sticking point between them and had the heat to boil over into a full-blown argument. Her phone beeped, alleviating the tension.
She got up from the table and looked at the screen of her phone. Her heart leapt.
The Daughter Page 25