by Graham West
By the time he’d finished his break, Alex was convinced the lad sitting at the table just a few yards away was nothing more than a murdering thug, and he to let Danni know who she was sharing her bed with. This could be the end for Pascoe and the beginning for him.
“You’re back on duty, Alex!” the pixie girl called through.
He grunted, making his way behind the bar and putting on his best happy-to-be-here face while serving a young hippy lad a vodka and coke. He pulled out his phone. Danielle Stevens was still saved in his ‘Favourite’ contacts.
Hi! Just wondering if Darren mentioned about the woman and her kid. The ones he killed. Xxx
It took him seconds to send but when he looked up there were three women waiting to be served. Shit! This was supposed to be a kids’ holiday, not a piss-up. Why couldn’t they go to the pool or something? He forced a smile just as the phone bleeped in his pocket. Alex took the drinks order and glanced down at the screen.
WTF are you talking about?????
That was all. Okay, he thought, so you want details.
Yeah, I guessed he might have forgotten to mention it. Anyway, I’ve forwarded the link. So you can read all about it! Xxx
Alex looked up again. This time, there was no one at the bar. He tapped send and waited, but Danni didn’t reply. He looked over at Darren sipping his beer with an occasional glance at the phone lying beside him. His girl would probably be reading the report at that very moment, trying to get her head around the whole thing. Alex smiled to himself. If there was any justice, she would send that smug murdering bastard a message that would turn his world upside down.
***
Dennis Blakely was relieved to see Jenny again. Now he just had to get some time alone with her. He’d hatched a plan that would give them a couple of hours to check out the Amelia figure and take a few photographs for the website: Jennifer Huxley standing by her great-great-great-grandmother’s grave. It seemed like a good idea, and even Penny had agreed.
“That Jenny… She’s a pretty girl,” Penny said with a wry smile. “Just keep it professional, okay?”
Blakely grimaced. “She’s married, Pen. Don’t let’s start all this again!”
Penny shrugged. “Just saying. You have a track record with pretty young girls.”
“Once!” he shot back.
“One girl, maybe. But you were at it like rabbits for weeks.”
Blakely didn’t answer. He had no defence.
“I’m sorry,” she said suddenly. “Look, you cheated, and I hate what you did. But I trust you. I know it doesn’t seem like it sometimes, but—”
Blakely walked over to where she was pouring herself a coffee. “Hey, I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t. You’ve been brilliant!” He pulled her towards him.
“I knew how much this place meant to you,” she said. “I could have been more supportive. I could have got myself a hard hat and spent some time on site.”
“You’ve more than made up for that,” he replied, kissing her neck. He’d never imagined that she would have thrown herself into the position of hotel manager with such enthusiasm. Penny had enrolled on a management course, where she’d come under the influence of a charismatic tutor, Brayden Fleming, who had ridiculed the appalling standard of senior management in modern Britain.
He was a revolutionary in a suit, believing that no man or woman should be allowed near a boardroom without at least six months on the shop floor, learning the job at grassroots level and rubbing shoulders with the people who really mattered.
There were too many kids, fresh out of nappies, catapulted into positions of power with caps that didn’t fit and boots that they couldn’t fill. And what happened when they tried to walk in the wrong size boots? They fell flat on their arses, that’s what! Fleming believed that too many corporate giants were run by accountants and managed by incompetent idiots who couldn’t see beyond the statistics they studied from the comfort of their leather chairs in centrally heated offices, surrounded by photographs of their kids—the ones they never got to see.
Penny emerged a convert to the gospel of hands-on management, spending several weeks with the chefs before working for another week with the cleaners, changing sheets and scouring the toilets. She followed that with a course in basic psychology before finally donning the manager’s hat. It worked. The staff simply adored her. They were all treated with the same respect regardless of their tasks, and that Christmas, the first at the newly opened park, Penny arrived back at their room with several boxes of chocolates, two gift vouchers and over a dozen cards.
It all could have been so different, Blakely knew that, but his wife had decided he was worth fighting for. It hadn’t been easy to forget Kim, and he often woke in the night, tormented by the memory of her lifeless body, to turn and find Penny staring at him. “It wasn’t your fault. You didn’t ask her to come looking for you.”
He’d fight back the tears as she’d move closer, resting her head on his shoulder until he drifted back to sleep.
Her love baffled him. She had not only forgiven, but was nursing her errant husband through the painful memories, never really knowing if he was secretly longing for one more night with the girl who had bewitched him.
If her support was intended to win his devotion, it had worked. Blakely had always loved his wife but never as much as he did now, and on her birthday he’d bought her a card, the biggest he could find, and on it he wrote simply: I don’t just love you. I’m in love with you.
When Penny Blakely read it, she’d broken down and wept.
Chapter Eight
There weren’t too many other kids on the cycle trail that afternoon. Most of the families had booked in and were grabbing a bite to eat or heading off towards the new pool, but Peter Nelson was just relieved to see his little boy outside his bedroom and in the fresh air. He had a whole week—seven days—away from the school he hated. It wasn’t that Cody struggled academically. His maths was good and he always seemed to get decent marks for spelling and English. There would never have been a problem if he’d been the only child in class.
Sure, the other kids teased him about his special friends, and that didn’t help, but Peter knew that his son lacked the social skills other children were beginning to grasp at his age. That, he believed, was at the root of the problem. Both he and Laura had tried explaining that it wasn’t always a good idea to say what you really thought, but Cody always seemed distracted and merely nodded as if he were hoping they’d both give up and leave him alone. But a happy child was usually a little more responsive and, as they stopped off at one of the picnic tables for a drink, he thought it might be worth bringing up the subject again.
“So have you told any of your classmates that you’re coming here?”
Cody looked suspicious. “No. They wouldn’t be interested.”
Peter leaned across and pinched his son’s cheek. “Maybe they would be more interested if you made an effort to be nice.”
Cody didn’t answer. He was busy trying to unscrew the top of his plastic bottle.
“Hey, don’t bail out on me. We really need to talk about this. You know—man to man.”
Cody looked up. “I don’t want to talk about it. I hate school!”
“I know you do, son. But you have to go, so we really need to try and make the best of it, okay?”
“Okay.”
“So how about you try to get along with your classmates? Do you think you could do that for me?”
Cody shrugged. “I just say what I’m thinking.”
Peter was trying to make eye contact, but his little boy wasn’t having any of it. “Well, Mummy and Daddy have told you before—”
“I know. Don’t say what I think,” he interjected, finally releasing the bottle top. “But what if they really want to know what I think?”
“About what?”
Cody considered for a moment. “Well, the other day, Travis asked me if I liked his picture.”
“And what did you say?�
��
“I said the truth—it was shit!”
“Cody! We’ve told you about using that word.”
“But it was,” he protested. “It looked like a spider had crawled over the page with ink on its paws.”
“Spiders don’t have paws. They have legs.”
“Well, they must have something on the end of their legs!”
Peter Nelson groaned inwardly. “Sometimes it’s more important to be kind. You could have smiled and asked if he would like you to help him with his next picture.”
Cody nodded. “Okay, I’ll try hard not to tell the truth next time.”
It wasn’t the response he’d been looking for. “You should always try and tell the truth—especially when it’s important.”
“But how will I know when it’s important?”
Peter was beginning to wish they hadn’t stopped at the damned picnic table. “Well, for instance, when Travis asked you about the picture, that wasn’t really important, was it?”
“It was to him.”
There was no point in taking this any further, not today. He’d run himself into a dead end. He hadn’t thought it through and had fallen into the rather grey area of white lies. Everyone told them, but Laura’s kid sister Alison would never have gone there. She would have known exactly what to say, and Cody would have sat gazing into her eyes, listening and hanging onto every word.
He watched his little boy climb back on a bike that was just a bit too small now. He had a baby face but had shot up these past twelve months, and maybe it was time for a brand-new one. Of course, he’d have to start behaving at school. Peter Nelson smiled to himself. When dealing with kids, it was always good to have a bargaining tool.
***
Darren Pascoe checked his phone the moment he arrived back at the lodge. There was still no reply from Danni. It had been three hours, during which he and Jake had taken Isaac to the pool and stopped for a coffee at the splash bar before heading back. It was Rob who had suggested it might be wiser not to take their phones. Lockers had keys but they were generally regarded by determined thieves as an easy target.
Jake saw the look on Darren’s face. “Like a lovesick puppy,” he joked.
Darren wasn’t in the mood. Danni hadn’t replied to his Miss you loads, message and now he was starting to panic. The calls were going direct to voicemail. Maybe she was in some kind of trouble. Perhaps he could borrow Jenny’s car—it was only an eight-mile drive to her home, half an hour at the most, even in the early evening traffic. But Darren thought he’d wait. Josie had pizza in the oven, and Jake had made it clear that it was going to be a family occasion.
Rob was about to call them around the table when Darren heard his phone ping. It was Danni. At last! Thank God! But then he read the message.
Is there something you wanna tell me? Something about Elizabeth and Hanna?
Darren felt as if his head was about to explode. Shit! There were no kisses, no hearts. He collapsed back into the sofa, his hands shaking so violently the phone slipped from his grasp and slid down the side of the cushion. He fished for it frantically. If that had gone, things would get even messier.
“You okay, bud?” Jake looked concerned.
“Just lost my…” Then he felt it on his fingertips. “It’s all right, panic over.”
But Jake was still watching him as he read and re-read the message, hoping it would either change or disappear altogether. He’d always intended to tell Danni—he was going to tell her everything, eventually—but then things had got serious and he didn’t want to lose her.
Jake waved a plate in the air. “You want one slice or two, Daz?”
Darren couldn’t face food. “Nah, I’m gonna give it a miss.”
Jake put the plate back on the table and walked over, perching himself on the arm of the chair. “What’s up, matey? I thought you were starving.”
“I was,” Darren replied, still staring at his phone.
“So what’s changed?”
“She knows.”
Jake frowned as Darren looked up.
“She knows everything. She knows about Jenny’s mum and Hanna.”
“For fuck’s sake. How?” Jake said, lowering his voice. “How the hell did she find out?”
Darren shook his head. “I’ve got no idea.” His voice broke.
“Ask her. You need to ask her.”
“What difference would that make? It’s over.”
Jake slid down into the chair next to him. “So you’re just gonna give up? Not even try? Come on, Daz, I thought you had more balls than that.”
“I should have told her. I should have told her before we got close. I’ve been a fucking idiot.”
Jake snatched the phone from his hands. “Well, if you won’t ask, I will.”
Darren watched Jake tap out the message.
I don’t know who told you. It’s my past and I’m ashamed. I’m sorry I couldn’t find the courage to tell you myself. I didn’t want to lose you xxx
Jake pressed send and threw the phone back onto the sofa. “It’s worth a try,” he said. “At least you’ll know where you stand.”
Darren flicked on the TV and stared at the early evening news, barely taking anything in, while the others tucked into their pizza, but there was nothing happening in the world that mattered more than the story breaking in his own life. And here’s the latest from Tabwell. Darren Pascoe and Danielle Stevens have ended their relationship. Sources close to the couple state that they wish their privacy to be respected at this time. There are no children involved…
As if! No one cared. Not really. Couples split up every day; hearts got broken, kids cried themselves to sleep, and yet the world kept on turning. He sloped quietly into his bedroom, away from the TV and the smell of pizza, and called her again. This time, Danni answered.
She’d obviously been crying and launched straight into an attack. “You’re a bastard!” she shrieked. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why? You fucking killed that poor woman and her five-year-old kid! I hate you, Darren! I hate you!”
Darren slumped down onto the edge of the bed, waiting till she ran out of steam. “I’m a coward,” he confessed, having decided that sorry wouldn’t cut it. “When I got out of that place, I never thought I’d find a girl and—”
“Don’t go there, Darren. Don’t start looking for sympathy, cos right now, I’m just thinking about that poor cow you murdered. I’m not arsed about what you want!”
“I wasn’t looking for sympathy. I wasn’t. I was just saying—”
“I know what you were saying. You didn’t want to lose me—well tough shit, cos you have—big time. I don’t want to see you again, ever!”
Darren felt the pain creeping up from the pit of his stomach. His chest tightened and beads of perspiration formed on the back of his neck. Shit! Why is it so frigging hot in this wooden shed?
Danni kicked off again. “I used to admire you,” she yelled. “Losing both your parents like that. Living with an uncle you didn’t even like and working in a back-street garage. I admired you cos you didn’t sit on your arse feeling sorry for yourself. You got on with life. But now—”
“But that’s all true,” Darren protested. “My parents and my uncle, and the job in the garage. It’s all true.”
“Yeah, you just missed out the other bit—about killing two innocent people. That’s pretty major, don’t you think?”
Darren was nodding, but he wasn’t going to give up just yet. “Danni, just hear me out. Please.”
There was a silence, but she didn’t hang up. That was a start. “There are things you don’t know. Other things. Stuff that might help you to understand, maybe even forgive me.”
“I can’t forgive you, Darren. Not ever!”
“Danni, the people I’m here with now—they’re my family. Before you walk away, I’d like you to meet them.”
There was another silence, then, “I didn’t know you had any family.”
“It’s complicated. You’
ll understand when you know the whole story. You’ll understand why I never told you.”
Danni seemed to have calmed down a little. Maybe it was love, or maybe just curiosity, but to Darren’s surprise, she agreed. “I’m at my parents’ place tomorrow, but I’m okay for Monday.”
“Monday morning,” he answered quickly. “We can meet at reception. I’ll get you in on a visitor’s pass.”
“Okay, but you haven’t forgotten Alex works there, have you? I don’t want to bump into him—not with you there, anyway.”
Darren groaned. “It will be okay. He’s probably got another girl by now, anyway.”
Danni sighed. “Okay, I’ll see you. But don’t be getting your hopes up. I don’t know if I can deal with this.”
He walked back into the lounge where the family were sitting watching a sitcom on TV. “Hey, guys,” he said breezily. “Danni’s coming over on Monday. I’m gonna need some help.”
Chapter Nine
It was Sunday morning. No church, no sermons and no sketches of dead ministers. The first night had gone smoothly. Cody had slept through and woken to his first full day at Mosswood Adventure Park like a regular, excited kid. The forecast for the week was good, with temperatures expecting to hit the mid-twenties. The Nelsons were due some good weather, after two disastrous holidays in Cornwall, but they had been discouraged from going abroad by Cody’s conviction that the plane was going to crash and his tendency to share that with the other passengers.
They’d gone swimming, and after a cooked breakfast at the poolside bar, Laura had returned to the lodge with a book she’d bought the previous summer. Peter headed off to the soft-play centre with Cody and sat with a coffee, watching him kicking a sponge ball around with a ginger-haired girl who looked to be a couple of years older. So far, she hadn’t slapped his face or run off crying; Cody must have been thinking about the new bike they’d talked about the previous evening.