Under Parr

by Andrea Bramhall

“I know, kiddo. That’s why I wondered. Gina are you okay?”

  Gina nodded slowly.

  “You sure? You’ve gone grey. Sammy, get a glass of water for your mum, please.”

  Sammy pushed her chair noisily away from the table and ran to the kitchen sink.

  “I’m sorry. You don’t have to say anything. I get it.”

  “My mum.”

  Kate nodded. “I get it. I’m sorry I asked.”

  “Do you know her, Mum?” Sammy asked as she carefully put the half-full glass of water in front of her.

  “From a long time ago, baby. Before you were born.”

  Sammy’s eyes widened. “Wow. That must’ve been ages, then.”

  Gina snorted. “Something like that.” There was nothing like kids to bring you back down to earth with a bump. And Sammy excelled at it. She caught Kate’s eye and mouthed the word “later” before taking a sip of water. “Thank you, Sammy.”

  “Welcome.” Sammy climbed back on her chair and started in on the last slice of pizza. “Can I watch some cartoons after tea?”

  “Depends,” Kate replied.

  “On what?”

  “Do you have any homework to do?”

  Sammy folded the pizza slice in half. “Nope. I’m all catched up.”

  “Caught up,” Kate corrected.

  “I’m all caught up.” Sammy rolled her eyes.

  “Okay. But only for an hour. Then you’re getting in the bath before bed. Kate, do you have something I can stick on madam there for her to sleep in?” Gina asked.

  “I think I can come up with something suitable. I’ve got a straitjacket in the loft, I think.”

  “We’re staying here tonight?” Sammy asked with a delighted squeal.

  “God, only if you never make that noise again,” Gina responded.

  “Cool.”

  “I’m glad you approve.”

  “Mum?”

  “Yes, Sammy?”

  “What’s a straitjacket?”

  Gina looked at Kate and waved her hand in invitation. “The floor’s all yours, big mouth.”

  Kate gulped.

  * * *

  Gina pulled her legs up under herself and settled back on to the comfy sofa.

  “Coffee?” Kate held out a bottle of Bailey’s Irish Cream.

  “Well, it’d be rude not to, I suppose.”

  Kate disappeared back into the kitchen and Gina clicked off the cartoon show that Sammy had been watching earlier. Giant green turtles were just not her thing.

  When Kate handed her the drink and sat down next to her, she smiled and took a warming sip.

  “Oh, that’s good.”

  “Glad madam approves.” She took her own sip and let out a satisfied “Ah” as she leaned back and got herself comfortable. “Sorry about earlier.”

  “What?”

  “Alison Temple.”

  “Oh, right.”

  Kate’s eyebrows climbed towards her hairline. “I remember you said they lived close by and refused to see you, but I didn’t think you meant practically the next village.”

  Gina frowned. “I’m sorry, I thought I’d said where they were.” She shrugged. “It wouldn’t make a difference, anyway. They could be in the next village or the next continent. They don’t want anything to do with me, and that’s just fine by me.”

  “Really?”

  Gina nodded as she stared into her mug. “There are more important things in life than trying to please people who can never be pleased and judge based on one mistake.”

  “Were you never close to your parents?”

  “No.” She rested the mug in the arm of the sofa and rested her head back.

  “I can’t imagine having parents around and not being in touch with them.”

  Gina bristled at the judgement she heard in Kate’s words. “It was their choice, Kate. Not mine.”

  “Wait, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that to sound funny or anything. I was merely trying to imagine how what they did couldn’t hurt you. And I can’t imagine that scenario. No matter what, they’re your parents, right?” She wrapped her fingers around Gina’s hand. “I’m sorry if that sounded like anything else.”

  “They turned their backs on me. I was just a kid, I was scared, and he gave me a choice. Their way or get out and do it alone.”

  “What was their way?”

  “An abortion.”

  “And you didn’t want that?”

  She shook her head. “It’s the right thing for some people. Maybe everyone in the right circumstances, but it wasn’t what I wanted. I wanted my baby. I wanted Sammy.” She smiled as she spoke her name. “I knew I’d regret it if I agreed to what my father wanted.”

  “What about your mum? What did she want you to do?”

  Gina shrugged. “I have no idea. She only ever went along with what dad wanted.” She took another sip of her drink. “It was like she had no opinions of her own. She was just an extension of him. I always hated that. It was like I could never get away from him. Even when he wasn’t in the house.”

  “What did they both do while you were growing up?”

  “Dad was a farmer. He worked for the farm on the Holkham Estate.”

  “And your mum?”

  “She did the books for the pub in the village. Then she started picking up a few other businesses’ accounting work too. The village shop before it closed, the art studio, a couple of the campsites. That sort of thing. Why do you need to see her? Can you tell me?”

  Kate shook her head. “I’m sorry, I really shouldn’t say anything, Gina.”

  “Is she in trouble?”

  “What makes you ask that?”

  “You’re a cop, Kate. You came across her name during an investigation.”

  “Fair point.” She sighed heavily, clearly weighing her options before she continued. “Between us?”

  Gina nodded. “Of course.

  “I don’t think she is, no. She’s been doing the books at the nursing home for a few months. I just need to talk to her about some of the accounts from before she started there.”

  “Oh.” Gina wasn’t sure how to ask what she wanted to know. She wasn’t even sure she really wanted to know, but she slowly found the words. “I always wondered if Dad was…well, he was always this larger-than-life personality, you know. Controlling, I suppose. But I always wondered if there was, I don’t know, more to it. I guess.”

  “You want to know if he’s abusive towards her?”

  She nodded. “It doesn’t make sense to me that she was so far up his arse. I mean, she’s a clever woman. She had to have her own opinions on stuff, you know? So why did she always parrot his?”

  “Do you want me to give you my opinion after I speak to her?”

  “Would you?”

  Kate frowned. “On one condition.”

  “What?”

  “It’s Kate’s opinion. Not Detective Sergeant Brannon’s.”

  “I understand.” She finished the last mouthful of her coffee and put the mug on the coffee table. “Thank you.” She let Kate ease her into an embrace, and rested her head on Kate’s shoulder. “It wasn’t always so bad.”

  “It rarely is, darling.”

  “Know-it-all.” She pushed Kate in the ribs, then settled against her comfortably again. “She was a fabulous cook.”

  “Yeah? Is that where you learnt how to cook?”

  “Must be. But, God, Mum’s Sunday roast was a thing of legend. Yorkshire puddings as big as your head. I used to think that the only reason I had friends at school was because they wanted an invite to Sunday tea.”

  “You’ll have to make me a roast then. I used to love Gran’s roast dinner.”

  “You’re on.”

  Kate ran her fingers gently through Gina’s hair. Her eyelids grew heavy, her heartbeat slowed, and her limbs felt heavy as slumber called.

  CHAPTER 16

  There was one thing Kate hated about the beach. Sand. And there was nowhere she hated it more than in her shoes. T
oday was no exception. The short walk from the beach car park to the clubhouse entrance had plagued her with her nemesis.

  Gareth pushed the buzzer while she hopped on one leg and tried to get the bloody stuff to shift to at least a comfortable temporary location within her shoe. But it was more stubborn than she had time for.

  The door swung open while Gareth was laughing at her, and they were greeted by a short, wizened woman, with a slightly humped back, a crooked smile, and a windswept hairdo that reminded Kate of Doc Brown in Back to the Future. It wasn’t a good look.

  “Good morning. We’d like to see Mr Spink, please.”

  “And who might you be?” she asked.

  “I’m Detective Sergeant Kate Brannon, and this is Detective Constable Gareth Collier.”

  “I’ll see if he’s available.” She opened the door wide enough to admit them into the hallway. “I won’t be long.” She disappeared down the corridor, leaving them standing in the dark wood-panelled hall.

  “Well this is…” Gareth paused as he searched for the right word to describe the decor.

  “Testosterone-fuelled decor at its finest?” Kate sniggered.

  Gareth chuckled. “Something like that.”

  “Not your style, Gazza?”

  He scowled playfully at her. “No. I’m a metrosexual kinda guy.” He held his hands out. “Can’t you tell?”

  Kate looked him up and down. He was certainly a modern bloke. His suit was sharp, well-fitted, and not cheap. That was for sure. It showed off his broad shoulders and trim waist, and hinted at the muscular physique she knew was underneath. His hair, as always, was gelled back neatly, parted to the left, but made no attempt to hide the pronounced widow’s peak in the centre. If anything, he styled his hair to show it off. It seemed to enhance the symmetry of his face, the deep set of his blue eyes, the straight nose, and the wide, full lips. His strong, square, clean-shaven jaw completed the picture of a very good looking guy. And one who knew how to make the best of what he had.

  “Is that what they’re calling those manicures you get these days?”

  He dropped his arms to his side. “Very funny.”

  “I thought so.” She winked. Just to be sure he knew she was messing with him. She didn’t fancy dealing with one of the tantrums she’d seen him throw at Tom’s offhand comments.

  “Mr Spink says he has a few minutes for you,” the woman said from behind them.

  “Thank you.” Kate followed her down the hall and up a flight of stairs. “Is he not in his office?”

  “No, he’s upstairs overseeing the remodelling of the restaurant.”

  “Ah.”

  The upstairs was as different as you could get to the man-cave downstairs. Light filled the room from the huge expanse of windows all around them. The pale grey-green walls seemed to soak it up and reflect it back with a pearlescent sheen. There were men on scaffolds all around them, fixing pictures to walls, touching up gloss on the coving, and fitting ceiling lights.

  Mr Spink was at the far end of the room, amongst dozens of wicker chairs stacked in the corner, seemingly counting them as he spoke into his phone. He waved them over when he saw them and ended his conversation as they got to him. “Detective Sergeant Brannon, how lovely to see you again. Everything okay, I trust?

  “Yes. I wondered if you could take a look at a picture for me and let me know if you recognize this person?”

  He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a pair of spectacles. “Of course.”

  Kate handed him the picture.

  He frowned at it, then squinted his eyes. He cocked his head to one side. “Do you have a pencil?”

  “A pencil? No. Why?”

  “Well, I just wanted to see something.” He looked around the room and wandered off a moment before coming back holding a decorator’s pencil. He leaned over one of the stacked tables and shaded a full beard on to the picture, filled in heavier eyebrows, and drew a pair of glasses on to the face. “Yes, thought so.” He took off down across the room and down the stairs.

  “Mr Spink, wait.” Kate followed him back down the stairs and into his office, where he was booting up his computer. “Who is it?”

  “One moment, Detective.”

  Gareth came in behind her, and they both stared at Mr Spink as he stared at his computer screen.

  “There.” He turned the monitor towards them. “Alan Parr.” He pointed to the picture on the screen. “He was the head groundskeeper here at one time.”

  Kate felt like shouting “hallelujah” and waving her hands in the air like they’d just scored the World Cup-winning goal, but it wasn’t the time or the place. But finally, finally, they were starting to get somewhere. A name. They had his name.

  “When was that?” Gareth took his notepad from his pocket and began making notes.

  “Retired in 2002. We had a party here for him. He was a lovely chap. Hard-working, salt-of-the-earth type. Do anything for a friend. If ever we were in a pickle, Alan’s the one I wanted to help. And my word, did he know how to keep a lawn. Grass hasn’t been the same since he retired.” He held his hands out. “Don’t tell Malcolm I said that.”

  Kate smiled. “No problem.” She winked. “If I can get a printout of that record.”

  “Certainly.” Mr Spink clicked the mouse and sent the document to the printer. “It’ll just take a moment.”

  “Thanks. Does Alan have any family?”

  Mr Spink rubbed his chin. “If memory serves, he was a lifelong bachelor. No kids, parents long deceased. I couldn’t tell you if he had any brothers or sisters, though.”

  “Do you know where he was living?”

  “I believe he lived in Ringstead when he worked here. Couldn’t tell you if he still has the house there or not. We didn’t keep in touch. You know how these things go. We all promise to keep in touch, we all mean it at the time, but then things change.”

  “It happens, Mr Spink.”

  He nodded sadly. “Unfortunately. When he moved into the nursing home I went to see him a bit more at first. It was just down the road. I’d pop in on my way home, have a cuppa with him.” He smiled at whatever memory he was recalling. “Then he seemed to stop recognising me. He’d stare at me with this blank look and ask who I was sometimes. Other times I’d be talking to him and he’d zone out. When he came back, he’d ask the same question I’d just answered.” He wiped at his eye, subtly removing the tear that threatened to spill. “I let my own ego get in the way, I suppose. I went to take him a Christmas card back at the beginning of December in 2013. A few days before the flood, in actual fact. When I walked in he didn’t recognise me at all.” He shook his head. “I couldn’t bring myself to go back again.”

  Kate watched him as she absorbed the first concrete corroboration that their victim had lived in the nursing home. Someone who not only thought he’d lived there, but had visited him there. Edgar Spink had sat in there with Alan Parr on numerous occasions. Finally it felt as though details of the case were shifting into place. “Do you know if anyone else on your staff kept in touch with him?”

  “I’m afraid I couldn’t tell you, but you’re more than welcome to ask.”

  “Thank you.”

  “May I ask why you’re looking for Alan?”

  “I’m sorry, I can’t go into that right now. Ongoing investigation.”

  “Was it…” he glanced out of the window toward the bunker on the beach. The tear in his eye finally fell as the realisation struck. “Was it Alan we found down there?”

  “I’m afraid I can’t comment on that at this time.”

  He met her eyes, understanding all she couldn’t say. “When you can comment, Detective, we’d like very much to pay our respects to Alan here at the golf club. He was a friend. Despite how it must seem.”

  “We’re all guilty of letting life get in the way of spending time with those we care about sometimes, Mr Spink. Especially if it’s painful for us,” Kate said softly. “It’s things like this that help us to re-evalu
ate those choices and prevent us repeating the mistake.”

  “Very wise for one so young.”

  Kate waved her hand. “I’m not so young. And especially in this job. You age quickly. It’s a bit like dog years. By the time we get to thirty in the police force, we’re actually a hundred and two.” She picked up the pages from the printer and held them up. “Thank you for this, and your time, Mr Spink. I’ll talk to Malcolm again, if you don’t mind. I’m assuming they worked quite closely together before Mr Parr retired.”

  “Yes, they did. Malcolm was practically Alan’s apprentice.” He glanced at the clock. “They’ll be coming in for morning break in a couple of minutes. Can I get you a coffee while you wait?”

  “Thanks, that’d be great.”

  Mr Spink left the room, and Kate turned to Gareth. “Bingo.”

  “Finally, sarge. We’re getting somewhere.”

  Kate nodded. “Once we’ve spoken to Malcolm, we’ll get this info back to the office. I need to run an errand for a couple of hours, and this afternoon we need to go and talk to Alison Temple. But while I’m out, I want you to find everything you can get me on Alan Parr. I want a next of kin if you can find one, Gareth.”

  “I’ll do my best, sarge.”

  “I know you will.” She handed him the pages. “I trust you.”

  Gareth’s face lit up and she wondered if anyone had ever said that to him before.

  “I won’t let you down. Whatever there is to find about Mr Parr, I’ll find it.”

  CHAPTER 17

  Gina fiddled with the seatbelt as her hands shook.

  “Do you want me to come in with you?” Kate asked.

  She shook her head. “No, thanks. I think I need to do this part on my own.”

  “Okay.” Kate leaned across the console and kissed her gently on the mouth. “It’ll be okay, Gina. It really will.”

  Gina exhaled shakily. “I hope so.”

  “When you meet Jodi…don’t be too shocked. Okay?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “She knows what you’re going through,” Kate said and ran her hand down Gina’s cheek.

  Gina flinched. Kate’s meaning seemed clear to her. Jodi bore some sort of scar herself, maybe something she couldn’t hide as easily as Gina could.