The Anita Waller Collection

by Anita Waller

‘Yes, good,’ she said. ‘There’s at least three new employees I don’t know yet, I’ve had lots of welcome back cards, and Tom and Oliver bought me a huge bouquet of roses. And a coffee machine. They also filled up my drawer with files all requiring urgent attention.’

  ‘And did they get urgent attention?’

  ‘Of course. All filed back into their proper places, I’ve emailed Tom and Oliver and told them what I’ve done, and I’ll bet my drawer has another half a dozen tomorrow. I think they’ve missed me. They’ve asked me not to have any more babies,’ she added with a smile.

  ‘I echo that,’ Gareth said drily. Liz said nothing; over the past three or four years there had been a gulf between them, one that seemed to be permanent since Jake’s birth. Deep down, she knew she was keeping the family together for the stability this offered to Dan at a crucial exam-ridden stage of his life.

  They finished off their meal with fat-free yoghurts poured over banana slices as a concession to the new regime imposed on Gareth, and Dan switched on the coffee machine while he loaded the dishwasher.

  ‘It’s good to have a slave, isn’t it?’ Gareth remarked thoughtfully, and Liz nodded in agreement.

  Dan shook his head, and switched on the dishwasher. ‘I am not,’ he said slowly and carefully, ‘emptying it. Do it before you go to bed, please. Right, I’m done. Coffee’s ready whenever you want it, and I’m going up on the computer. Behave yourselves, no arguing, and no more babies.’

  Gareth and Liz burst out laughing.

  ‘Thank you, sweetheart. The meal was delicious, and I’ll do breakfast,’ Liz said with a smile.

  ‘Mom. We eat cornflakes.’

  ‘I’ll get the box out. And the dishes.’

  He shook his head and walked out of the kitchen. Parents, he thought. Why do we have to have them?

  He switched on his computer, checked all three screens were functioning as per his instructions, and settled down to work on the game he was creating.

  Chapter 3

  Dropping Jake off had seemed a little easier. Day two, and already the routine was starting to become… routine. Even the tram journey hadn’t been quite so stressful, the first day nerves had disappeared, and she allowed her mind to roam through some of the issues raised by the files she had worked on the previous day.

  She took coffees through to Tom and Oliver, then nursed her own cup as she pulled out the file that was troubling her. She was on her second read through when her desk phone rang.

  ‘Mrs Chambers? It’s Kelly from accounts.’

  ‘Hello, Kelly from Accounts. What can I help you with?’

  ‘First, welcome back. I rang last night, but you must have gone home. We’ve got an issue that we’ve never had before. Somebody hasn’t cashed a cheque.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘It’s one of your cases.’

  ‘We sent a cheque to somebody? Why didn’t we do a bank transfer?’

  ‘They asked for a cheque.’

  ‘Okay.’ She hesitated. ‘Is it Mr Banton’s case, or Mr Hardwick’s?’

  ‘Yours.’

  ‘But I haven’t been at work for nearly ten months.’

  ‘I know. It’s the Latimer case.’

  The air stilled around her. The Latimer case. Three little words. She shook her head, mentally clearing her thoughts but not clearing the flush that stained her cheeks pink.

  ‘But that’s closed. They won, we waited ages for the pay-out, and we paid them before I went on my mat leave.’ Liz felt sick.

  ‘Exactly. And they haven’t cashed the cheque. I’m proposing we cancel it, because it’s obviously gone astray. I’m a bit puzzled why they haven’t rung us asking for payment. Will you sort it, please?’

  Liz pulled a notepad towards her. It was for show only. She remembered the case with a deep clarity. ‘Give me the details.’

  ‘Cheque payable to Philip and Rosemary Latimer, dated 1 May 2015, amount £98,923. Our file number 0112/238LAT.’

  She scribbled it down, covering for any future queries, and then thanked Kelly, saying she would get back to her, but to cancel the cheque because it was out of date.

  Liz stared at the hastily jotted down notes, then moved across to her filing cabinet. She knelt and slowly pulled open the bottom drawer. A few more days in work and most of the old files in this drawer would have been archived.

  She removed the Latimer file, closed the drawer, and for a few moments remained kneeling.

  Her thoughts slammed back to that day in court when Rosie couldn’t attend because of a hospital appointment for Melissa. Phil had been there, and after the court part was over, he had asked her to go for a coffee with him. She, quite simply, had fallen in love. He, quite simply, had also fallen in love. Right time, right moment, right love. They hadn’t asked for it, they hadn’t searched for it, it simply happened.

  The double buzz on her desk brought her mind back, and she stood. One buzz for Tom, two for Oliver. She picked up her phone.

  ‘Liz, do you have the Marlow file?’

  ‘No, but I can get it. I can’t believe it’s still ongoing.’

  ‘Then you’ll be delighted to hear it’s ending. I want to check some disbursements before finishing off the final invoice.’

  ‘Give me two minutes.’

  She put down the phone and moved into the small room attached to her office where long-term files that required multiple folders were stored. She found the file, carried it through to her office, then on to Oliver’s office, after checking that everything seemed to be in it.

  He smiled at her. ‘Everything okay?’

  ‘It’s fine. Stop worrying about me. I can cope with being away from Jake for a couple of days.’

  ‘Three days. Every week. Every Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday. Today is only Wednesday and it’s your first week. Are you sure you’re fine?’

  ‘I’m good.’

  ‘Whatever you say. So… Latimer.’

  She jumped at the mention of the name.

  ‘Accounts say they haven’t cashed the cheque. You chasing it up?’

  ‘I am. It seems strange. Nearly £100,000 and they don’t want it? I’ll see what I can do. I’ve asked Kelly to cancel the original cheque and issue a second one, so at least it will be in date. I’ll send it off tonight, recorded delivery.’

  ‘Would it be better to hand deliver it? Then we would know it had got to them.’

  No! she screamed silently.

  ‘Yes,’ Oliver said thoughtfully. ‘Maybe that would be the best idea. Take a taxi, go about two-ish, then go straight home afterwards. Do it either today or tomorrow, your call. Pick Jake up a bit early. You’re okay with that, aren’t you?’ His look as he turned his face towards her was intense.

  She nodded. ‘Okay. Anything else you need?’

  ‘No, that’s it, thanks.’

  She went back into her own office and sat down with a thud.

  She was being forced to see him again. This man she had spent eighteen months trying to wipe from her memory was possibly going to be at home with Rosie, when she called to give them the new cheque.

  Had this been his intention all along? Was this why the cheque hadn’t been cashed? Had he realised that eventually she would have to contact them? And was he still with Rosie and Melissa?

  The questions raced around in her brain until finally Liz picked up her phone and asked Kelly to make sure the cheque was ready for the following day, as she would be taking it. On Oliver’s direct instructions.

  She picked up her handbag, unzipped the deep pocket on the lining, and took out the small Nokia that she hadn’t used for eighteen long months. She sat and stared at it for several minutes, then texted.

  Bringing new cheque to your house tomorrow. 2.30. Please don’t be there. I had a son, Jake.

  She was putting the phone back into the pocket when she heard it ping. For a second she froze. She had deliberately phrased the text so that no questions were asked, and therefore she wouldn’t need a reply.

&n
bsp; She took the phone back out and looked at the screen.

  Okay. I love you.

  It was as ambiguous as it was possible to be. Okay. What did that mean? Okay, come to my house. Okay, bring a new cheque. Okay, 2.30 is okay. Okay, I won’t be there. Okay, we have a son. She knew what ‘I love you’ meant.

  Once again, she put the phone away, her hands trembling. Roll on the weekend when all this would be out of the way, Phil and Rosie would be £98,000 better off, and she could get back to the life she had chosen.

  Unwillingly.

  She ran her hands through her hair and sighed. Ignore that word. She hadn’t taken that decision unwillingly. Gareth and Dan came first, her needs and desires second.

  Desire.

  This time she banged her fist down on to the desk and moaned. She had to stop thinking. Had to stop coming up with stupid words that were turning her into somebody she didn’t recognise.

  Phil Latimer was in the past, and that was where he would stay, whether he was at his home or not. Her mind drifted towards his angular face, the greying hair, his smile, the deep blue eyes that could curl her toes when he turned them on her…

  She pulled a file towards her and bent her head. Work. That would take her mind off what was in front of her, and off the face she loved. The perfect face. It would have been so easy to send the cheque by recorded delivery.

  She lifted her head. In her heart she knew the cheque fiasco was something that Phil had thought about, because why on earth would he want a cheque when he could have received the money straight into his account by bank transfer? It didn’t make sense.

  And why did he have to respond to her text?

  She couldn’t wait to leave work, but first she had to risk ringing the Latimers, to inform them of her visit. She stood with the receiver pressed to her ear, listening to it ringing out in the hallway of their Ecclesall home. There was no answer, and the relief was palpable.

  Using Rosie Latimer’s email address, Liz notified her of the impending visit, and sent it, feeling a shudder coursing through her body.

  She desperately wanted to get home to Jake, to hold him, to cuddle him, to enjoy his smell, his warmth, his love. He looked like her; for that she was grateful.

  Gareth had never queried his early birth; three weeks early was nothing and they joked that it was a good job he had come early, with a birth weight of eight pounds.

  She waved to Karen, who was busy switching everything through to the automatic line, and almost ran up the hill to the tram stop. She took out her book and tried to read, but her thoughts were anywhere but in those pages.

  Texting Sadie as she got off the tram, by the time she had walked up the road to the childminder’s house, Jake had been strapped into his pushchair.

  Liz left quickly, after telling Sadie what was happening the following day, which would enable her to be home a bit earlier, and went through her own front door breathing a sigh of relief.

  Dan came out of the kitchen and kissed her. ‘You okay, Mum? You look a bit frazzled.’

  ‘It’s cold. I wanted to get home quickly. Something smells good.’

  ‘Meat and potato pie, as promised.’

  ‘Brilliant,’ she laughed. ‘I dare you to put a small plate of salad in front of your dad.’

  He returned the smile. ‘Great minds think alike. I’ve already prepared it.’

  She lifted Jake out of the pushchair. Dan bent to fold it and placed it in the hall cupboard.

  ‘You settling in at work?’

  ‘Sort of. I thought I would swan back in and it would be all hunky-dory, but it’s not like that. I’m working on Tom and Oliver’s cases instead of having cases of my own…’

  ‘Mum! You’ve been back two days! Give it time.’

  She nodded. ‘Oh, I know you’re right. It’s me. It’s more tiring than I expected it to be, for a start. I’ll be home earlier tomorrow, because I’m going to see an old client, so maybe I won’t feel so exhausted.’

  They heard the front door open, and Gareth’s shout of ‘yeah, meat and potato pie!’

  Dan and Liz looked at each other and burst out laughing.

  Chapter 4

  Liz was grumpy when she arrived at work. Jake had woken twice during the night and she had dealt with him both times. She guessed he was finally feeling teeth breaking through, but Calpol wasn’t helping much. Neither was Gareth.

  She walked into her office, extracted herself from her thick coat and scarf, and put on a coffee to create something to warm her up. She heard the double buzz indicating Oliver wanted her, so she picked up her notepad, and went through to his room. He smiled when he saw her.

  ‘I thought I heard you pottering about. We really did mean a ten start, you know.’

  ‘I know. I catch the tram and that decides what time I get here. Did you want something?’ She waved her notepad at him.

  ‘Yes, to give you this.’ He handed her a file. ‘Read it, it’s concerning a nursing home that’s not doing what it’s supposed to be doing. I’d like you to handle it all the way through.’

  ‘Oliver, you’re a star. This is what I need. Don’t forget I’m not in for most of the afternoon. If you need anything doing, make it this morning, will you?’

  ‘I will. You’re going to sort out the Latimers, aren’t you?’

  ‘I don’t know about sorting them out, but I’m taking them a replacement cheque. It’s up to them whether they cash it or not. Something about leading horses to water…’

  He nodded. ‘Strange situation, isn’t it? No bank transfer, not querying a missing cheque – and let’s face it, Liz, it isn’t peanuts. What are they like? You knew them better than anybody else.’

  He’s the man I came so close to spending the rest of my life with, he’s handsome, he’s funny, he’s unhappy at home. He’s Jake’s father. He’s the love of my life.

  ‘They’re pretty ordinary, really. The compensation, if you recall, was from the NHS for a botched operation on their daughter’s arm which left her with little use in her left hand. They seemed to me to be normal, although Rosemary Latimer was always a little bit over-protective of Melissa. I suspect that was because she believed she caused the accident that broke her daughter’s arm in the first place. It was a bad break, a really bad one – she fell off a slide. They had to operate to set it, and the operation wasn’t successful, nerves were trapped and it wasn’t spotted that her hand was becoming fixed. By the time the cast came off, she had lost all feeling in the hand, and couldn’t move it. It was a fair settlement, agreed by both the NHS and the Latimers, so they had no reason to refuse the cheque.’

  ‘Maybe they’ll throw some light on things this afternoon.’

  Maybe she will. He won’t be there.

  ‘Let’s hope so. In fact, let’s hope they’re there. I’ve emailed them to tell them I’m calling to bring a replacement cheque, but I’ve had no reply. There was no answer when I rang, either.’

  But there was when I texted. Okay. I love you.

  ‘If they’re not there, don’t mess about. Shove it through the letterbox, and go home. You’ve booked the taxi through FleetLine?’

  She nodded. ‘Yes, and I’ve told them I’ll need the driver to wait until I’m ready to go.’

  She clutched the file containing her new case to her chest, and left Oliver’s office. His eyes stayed on her, unmoving, until she closed the door.

  The coffee was ready, and she stood it on the coaster, drawing the file towards her.

  At midday, Karen rang through to her to ask if she needed a sandwich bringing in, but she declined. Her stomach was churning far too much to accommodate food.

  Karen rang through again at 1.30pm to say the taxi had arrived, and Liz picked up her briefcase and her handbag before heading for reception.

  She wanted the journey to take forever, but it was remarkably free-flowing traffic, and Jim, her taxi driver over many years, pulled up outside the Latimer home with ten minutes to spare.

  She sat for a mom
ent trying to find some courage, and only moved when Jim turned around and spoke her name.

  ‘Sorry,’ she said, and flashed a sickly smile at him.

  ‘You okay? You need me to go with you?’

  ‘No, I'm fine, Jim. I needed two minutes to gather my thoughts. This shouldn't take long, and then you're taking me home.’

  She opened the rear door and stepped out. It was bitterly cold, and she shivered. She walked up the long path that showcased the front garden, and knocked on the door.

  It opened immediately, and the shock must have registered on her face. Rosie Latimer had aged. Her hair was grey, and her face had thinned and become lined. The biggest change was in her body. Her clothes hung on her. And yet, when she smiled, it was the old Rosie.

  ‘Liz! Come in. It's lovely to see you. Would you like a drink?’

  Liz smiled. ‘No, thank you, Rosie. I have a taxi waiting outside to take me back to work.’ She figured Rosie didn’t need to know she was going home; she might press her to have that drink. ‘I came to bring you this,’ and she handed over the envelope.

  ‘The cheque is inside it,’ Liz explained.

  ‘Okay, thank you.’ She offered no explanation for the previous cheque not having been paid in, and she stuffed the envelope into her skirt pocket.

  ‘Right… erm… I'll get off then. Good to see you again. Are Philip and Melissa well?’

  ‘They’re fine.’ Her tone was abrupt, and Liz stepped out of the front door. She walked down the path, and heard Rosie say softly, ‘So you've had the brat, then?’

  Liz felt sick, and almost fell into the car. ‘Let’s go, Jim. Straight home, please, not back to the office.’

  ‘You okay?’ He could see she wasn’t, and he spun round in his seat to look at her. ‘A problem?’ He had always felt quite protective of his pretty, blonde haired client, and didn’t like to feel somebody had caused her pain.

  ‘No, it's fine. I'm still at the same address, but can you drop me here, please?’ She handed him a piece of paper showing Sadie’s address. ‘I have to collect my baby before I can settle down at home.’