by Graham West
“So she did meet someone,” Rob muttered.
Kayla nodded.
“So what happened?”
“Turns out he supplied the drugs and cheap booze—not exactly what Mum was expecting.”
“He was a dealer?”
Kayla nodded. “But he lived over here, on the outskirts of London, not far from where we used to live. I came home one day to find Mum packing our suitcases. We were moving back.”
“And you didn’t want to?”
“No. I loved it in Ireland, and I definitely didn’t want to move in with him.”
Rob saw the anger in her eyes. “You obviously didn’t like him.”
“I hated him. My mum was always strong. She was independent. But he broke her. She loved him, and he broke her!” Kayla wiped away another tear from her cheek. “And he broke me too. He was evil! Pure evil!”
“And that letter you gave me?”
Kayla blushed and looked down. “I faked it. I thought if you knew the truth, you wouldn’t want anything to do with me.”
Rob frowned. “So she didn’t die?”
“Oh, yes, she died. Breast cancer. But he wouldn’t let her get a mastectomy. He told her he wasn’t shagging a tart with no tits.”
Rob stared at his daughter—a girl he had never known. “For fuck’s sake! What?”
Kayla shrugged. “Like I said, she was hooked. Hooked on him and cocaine. She just buried her head in the sand and told herself everything would be okay.”
The Melissa he remembered would never have been ensnared by a man. “Didn’t you try and persuade her?”
Kayla nodded. “Of course I tried. I begged her. But she said she’d rather go with her body intact. He really got to her—totally messed with her head.”
Rob sighed. “So where does this boyfriend of yours fit in?”
Kayla shot him a half-smile. “He was like a rock. Kaplan didn’t grieve for Mum. It was like he wasn’t arsed. Took up with some other woman who used to drink at the pub where he took Mum. Caden knew Kaplan. I think he felt sorry for me.”
“So Caden didn’t like Kaplan either?”
“Everyone knew him. He was the local bad guy, but he was smart and no one wanted to mess with him.”
“Is that when you took up with Caden?”
Kayla nodded. “I wasn’t sure about him at first, but he looked after me and I didn’t have many friends. I went to live with my mum’s sister, and she seemed to like Caden, so it just kind of happened.”
“And what does he do? This bloke of yours?”
“Computers. He’s a tech nerd. Works freelance for several companies.”
“And you haven’t seen him for two months?”
Kayla shook her head. “I’m worried about him. Like I said, he’s gone missing before—just not for this long.”
“And the last time? Where was he?”
Kayla smiled sadly. “He hibernates. Switches his phone off. He lives alone and seems to like it that way.”
“And you’ve been round to his place?”
Kayla shook her head. “Nah. I don’t even know where it is. He won’t tell me. Caden’s one of those blokes who likes to hide from the world sometimes.”
Rob tensed. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, but he doesn’t sound like a great catch to me. I’d be keeping my distance, if I were you.”
The term of endearment brought a flicker of light to her eyes. “Maybe, but we’re all a bit screwed up, aren’t we? Just in different ways.”
Rob shook his head. “No, I’m not buying that. You were worried—you were worried in case he’d come talking with his fists.”
Kayla looked horrified. “No! Honestly, I was just worried in case anything had happened to him. He’s never been violent. He’s never hit me. I thought he’d just come and have a bit of a rant!”
Rob exhaled. “Well, someone has it in for us.”
“It can’t be him. It can’t be!” Kayla protested.
Rob leaned forward “Well, I’d still rather know what this bloke of yours looks like. Have you got a photograph?”
Kayla shook her head.
Rob stared at her in disbelief. “What? Are you serious? You haven’t got a single picture of a man you’ve been dating for…how long?”
“He just doesn’t like having his picture taken. He doesn’t like the way he looks, that’s all.”
“And how does he look?”
Kayla thought for a moment. “He’s okay—about five-nine tall, got mousy-brown hair. A beard—well, stubble really. He’s casual. Likes denims. Looks a bit scruffy sometimes. I have a go at him about it, you know, when we eat out somewhere.”
Rob pulled out his phone. “Okay, give me his number. I’ll message him.”
“He’s not answering, I’ve told you that,” Kayla shot back.
“Or maybe he’s just not answering to you,” Rob snapped. “You said he’d come looking for me? Well, here I am! Bring it on!”
Chapter Fifty
Jenny sipped her coffee. “Amelia was just staring at the ground,” she said, gazing at the blank TV screen. “I think it must have been where that girl died.”
Jake dropped his work bag on the floor, slumping into the nearest chair. “Are you sure it wasn’t a dream? You could have just passed out for a few seconds.”
Jenny shook her head. “I was awake. I knew where I was.”
“Like a hallucination,” Jake mused.
Jenny still stared blankly at the TV. “I guess.”
“And she spoke?”
“Yep. She said, ‘I’m here.’”
Jake thought for a moment. “Maybe I should stay with you. I can call Dad and tell him I won’t be in.”
Jenny turned. It was the reassurance she needed. He believed her. “No. I’m okay. Best if you go in. I’ve got an assignment to finish. I’ll do it at the college.”
Jake looked worried. “Are you sure?”
Jenny nodded. “We’ve got the guy from the magazine coming tomorrow. Why don’t we go and pick up a couple of pictures for that wall? We could go tonight.”
Jake smiled. “Sure. I’ll be finished early, anyway,” he said, slinging the canvas work bag over his shoulder. “See you later, babe. Have a good day!”
“You too.”
Jenny listened as his car backed down the driveway. She shivered. Something wasn’t right. Maybe it was time to get away. It wouldn’t take them long to find a cheap deal—a couple of weeks on the Mediterranean. She rinsed out her coffee mug and placed it in the cupboard. Why the sudden impulse to run? The feeling unnerved her, and she found herself leaving the house early and turning up the car radio in an attempt to drown out the voices in her head. Jenny glanced up at the rear-view mirror and breathed a sigh of relief. Thank God! There was no one looking back at her.
***
Darren didn’t mind the car valets. At least it got him out of the garage, and although the plot of land at the rear of Tony’s oil pit wasn’t exactly a park, it was still outdoors. Compared to the putrid smell of fuel and spray paint that he endured most days, the air was fresh, and apart from that, Darren loved the peace and quiet.
He checked his phone for the second time in five minutes. There were still no notifications. Maybe he should ask Jenny for her number, but then he wondered why she hadn’t offered it in the first place. Surely it wouldn’t do any harm to ask?
He had been so engrossed in his thoughts that Darren hadn’t heard the sound of footsteps behind him.
“Mr. Pascoe, I presume!”
Darren spun around to see the familiar figure of the man who had gotten him through two years in the youth offenders centre.
“Mr. Alvarez!” Darren exclaimed, feeling a warmth that took him by surprise. “What are you doing here?”
Alvarez smiled. “Thought I’d call by and see how you’re doing.”
Darren shrugged. “Well, it ain’t the best job in the world but it’s better than nothing.”
“And how’s life with your uncle?”
“Okay, if you keep away from his cooking!”
Alvarez laughed. “Hey, you’re looking well on whatever it is you’re on!”
Darren nodded. “I’ve been in touch with Jenny.”
“Jenny?”
“Yeah, Jenny Adams, the girl who—”
His mentor’s smile faded. “Yes, I remember. Jenny’s your half-sister, isn’t she? What happened?”
Darren was sorry he’d mentioned it. Mr. Alvarez looked concerned.
“I wrote her a letter, telling her how sorry I was.”
“Okay, that’s not so bad,” he replied, nodding slowly.
Darren relaxed. “She got in touch, and we met up.”
“And now?”
“Things are good,” Darren replied with an air of triumph.
Alvarez frowned. “Well, it was risky, but if it’s paid off then I have to applaud you. But you do remember how we asked the family if they wanted to meet with you?”
Darren nodded. Of course he remembered. They wanted nothing to do with him.
“So what about Jenny’s father?”
“I don’t know. I’m guessing he still hates me.”
Alvarez smiled warily. “Look, Darren, I’m pleased for you, I really am. Just be careful, that’s all.” He leaned forward and patted Darren’s shoulder. “I just wish Kevin Taylor was making as much effort.”
Darren frowned. “Kevin? He’s still inside, isn’t he?”
Alvarez shook his head. “No. He got out just after you.”
Darren froze. The very name made him shudder. “But I thought—”
“He appealed. That fight was started by the other lad.”
Darren felt as if someone had punched him in the gut. “But I went round to the Taylors’ house—they said he was still inside.”
Alvarez looked stunned. “You did what?”
“Okay, I know it was stupid. I get that. I just hate Taylor and I hate that family—fuckin’ idiots, they are. I wanted to tell them what I thought.”
“Darren, that could have landed you back inside! Don’t you ever do anything like that again!”
“I know, I know, but why lie about Kevin?”
Alvarez sighed. “I shouldn’t really be discussing the situation with you. The Taylors seem to have got their lives in order, but you already know that. You’ve been there.”
Darren nodded. “Yeah, it’s like a totally different place.”
“But Kevin Taylor is still Kevin Taylor. He moved out after two days. He hated his new home. He’s living with a couple of mates in a bedsit. Still got no job, as far as I know.”
Darren shook his head. “I can’t believe they let him out.”
Alvarez grimaced. “Nor me,” he said, placing a fatherly hand back on Darren’s shoulder. “Look, son, if that lad tries to hook up with you, walk away. Don’t be getting into any fights. Just stay clear, okay?”
Darren nodded.
“You made a mistake,” he continued. “But you’ve got a whole lifetime to make up for it. Just do your best. That’s all anyone can ask.”
Darren watched his mentor walk away. Maybe one day, if he worked hard enough, he could be like him—helping troubled kids. He turned on the vacuum and climbed back in the car. Jenny still hadn’t left a message, but there were other things on his mind now. Alvarez had told him not to get into any fights with Taylor, but if they ever met up, he would make sure his first punch was a good one. So good that the bastard wouldn’t come back for a second helping.
***
Josie shot Rob one of those looks. This isn’t good, he thought. She stood behind the bar, polishing lipstick off the wine glasses. It was the first time Jo had set eyes on Kayla, the result of his past indiscretion and a reminder that he had an eye for a pretty girl. They’d had it out. The Kayla thing had nearly split them up, and there she was, sitting in her pub. He knew what she was thinking. He knew how hard this would be for her. Kayla promised to keep in touch and left, pausing at the door to wave. Two minutes later, Josie placed the last glass on the shelf and made her way over.
“Okay. What’s the story?” she asked sourly.
Rob told her everything his daughter had told him. Jo listened intently, her face showing no emotion.
“You think it’s him? This bloke of hers?”
“Kayla doesn’t think he’s capable of murder.”
Josie lowered her eyes. “So what’s happening? With you and her?”
“We’re going to keep in touch.”
“And you’re going to tell Jenny?”
Rob didn’t answer. He wasn’t. Not yet.
Josie seemed to read his mind. “You’ll have to. What if this guy is some kind of psycho? The boyfriend of a sister she knew nothing about?”
“Look, I know you’re right, but the time isn’t,” Rob protested.
“It’s never going to be the right time,” she snarled.
“Jenny will flip! She’s only just come to terms with the fact that I’m not her biological father. How do you think this is going to affect her?”
Josie rolled her eyes and walked away.
Kayla was always going to be there in the background. Jenny would have to know, but Rob couldn’t imagine how he was going to find the words.
Although Josie managed a cursory nod as he left, Rob sensed the weight of her disapproval. Maybe he’d pay Sebastian a visit. The old man was always good for a chat, and he never seemed to judge. Talking to Sebastian Tint was like talking to God, except with the old guy, you got an immediate answer.
Chapter Fifty-One
Jake hung the picture on the wall. It was a lakeside scene—one that reminded Jenny of caravan holidays in Cumbria as a carefree seven-year-old. It had to be straight. Everything had to be right. He’d called in at a local art shop on the way home and spent a small fortune on an original by some Lakeland artist who had developed something of a reputation over the years. The guy from the magazine would be here in less than eighteen hours, and they weren’t going to leave anything to chance.
Jake stood back, tilting his head to one side and then the other. One tiny adjustment—slightly up on the left hand side—and it was done.
“What do you think, babe?” he asked, admiring the landscape as if he had actually painted it himself.
“Perfect!” Jenny nodded and gave Jake a smile of approval.
“If he doesn’t feature the cottage, the guy’s crazy!” He took a mouthful from a can of beer and slumped back into the chair.
“Don’t be drinking tonight, babe,” Jenny said. “Can’t be having a hangover tomorrow.”
Jake smiled, rolling his eyes. “Last one. I promise.”
Jenny’s phone vibrated. It was a Facebook notification from Darren.
Hi! How are you? I found out that Taylor got released just after me! Really pissed off. He’s dangerous!
Despite the hatred she had felt for both boys, Jenny had always known Taylor was the real villain. Nothing good came out of the Kirkland Estate, and his reputation preceded him into the courtroom. She stared at the phone. Taylor was feral with no morals whatsoever. He was dangerous, but why was Darren telling her? He knew nothing about the graves or the murder.
She looked up. Jake was standing over her. “Is that him?”
Jenny nodded.
“What does he want?”
“He said Taylor is out.”
Jake looked puzzled. “Well I guessed he would be. Darren’s out. Why wouldn’t the other little shit be freed at the same time?”
The anger rose inside her. Jenny didn’t want a confrontation—not today—but she couldn’t let it go. “There’s no comparison, Jake!” she hissed. “Taylor is an animal!”
“They were both in that car, Jen! That makes them both as guilty as each other, in my book.”
Jenny flung her phone across the floor. “Are you really that fucking stupid? Taylor is the reason I lost my mother and sister! Taylor! Not Darren.” Jake stared at her, open-mouthed. “And I’m telling you now, Jak
e, if you ever—ever—compare Darren to that piece of human scum again…”
Jake held up his hands. “Okay! My god. You really are flying the flag for Pascoe, aren’t you.”
“I’m just saying. I don’t want a fight, but if you’re going to—”
“I’m not,” Jake interjected. “Look, I’m sorry. Let’s just drop it.”
Jenny buried her head in her hands. “What if it’s him? What if it’s Taylor—doing the graves? What if he’s blaming us for getting him locked up?”
Jake was about to take another mouthful of beer but stopped short, the tin just inches from his mouth. “You think he’s capable of murder?”
“I wouldn’t have thought so. But let’s face it, he didn’t care about my mum or Hanna, did he? It may not have been murder, but—”
“Then we should tell the police.”
“We’ve got no evidence,” Jenny said, shrugging her shoulders.
“It’s circumstantial, but it’s worth bringing to their attention.” Jake finally got to drinking his beer.
Jenny sighed. He had a point. “Okay. After the guy from the magazine’s been down, we can call in. Drop Taylor’s name into the mix. At least they’ll be keeping their eye on him.”
Jake smiled. It was a minor victory. At least they weren’t fighting over Darren. “Come on, babe,” he said, placing the empty tin on the floor. “Let’s forget all this for tonight. Fancy sharing a bottle of wine?”
Jenny nodded. Maybe alcohol wasn’t such a bad idea after all.
Chapter Fifty-Two
Jenny paced the floor, glancing occasionally at the guy on TV cooking up a dish for a group of celebrity guests. Her heart was racing and she couldn’t work out why. Okay, they were inviting a stranger into their home, and yes, he would be asking questions and poking around. But what if they didn’t meet with his approval? Did it really matter if the cottage wasn’t featured in some monthly magazine?
“Hey, babe. Chill out. Sit down.”
Jake was taking the whole thing in his stride. She’d asked him three times to shave, and those denims had a stain on the leg which she’d managed somehow to remove with a damp cloth after he’d refused point blank to change them.