An Old Score

by Edie Baylis

  Jonah raised his hand. ‘Hold your horses!’ He waited whilst Keith turned back to face him. ‘It’s a good thought, but I want to sit on that for now. We’ve got so far with the stoner, so I want to remain focused on him.’

  Keith scowled, enraged. More wasting fucking time. Why couldn’t he go and torture the answers out of the Robert bloke? Make a few extra quid at the same time. It was a good fucking idea. ‘But you said we had to lay off the stoner until heat dies down.’

  Jonah smiled. ‘I know that’s what I said and that’s still what I want. We might be pulling back with heavy hand approach where Joe Singleton is concerned, but that doesn’t mean you can’t let him see you. Let him see you somewhere so he knows you’re still watching and can reach him at any time.’

  A sly smile spread across Jonah’s face. ‘It never hurts to remind people not to relax or have the misguided thought of involving the authorities... Only in case he’s thinking of getting a bit more chilled about the situation in your absence, if you get my drift?’

  Jonah smiled, ignoring Keith’s snort of frustration. ‘It will also give him the gentle reminder that you’re still expecting him to deliver on his arrangement, even if you don’t say it. I am confident this tactic will work a lot better and faster than starting from scratch with the Adams son.’

  ‘We’re on it,’ Nero grinned, grabbing Keith’s sleeve and nudging him out the door of Jonah’s office.

  Walking up the corridor, Nero glanced at Keith muttering under his breath. ‘What Jonah suggested made a lot more sense than involving another person in this shit. The less people involved, the less chance of anything ever pointing back to us.’

  ‘Whatever,’ Keith muttered sourly.

  Nero shrugged. Keith might not be happy about the next stage in the plan, but he was. He was a lot happier because it showed that Jonah was back to normal with his head in control after being out of sorts the last week or so.

  Twenty Six

  HELEN STARED BLANKLY at her personal organiser. Three appointments this afternoon? She wouldn’t be going to any of those – not if she could help it. She was in nowhere near enough a decent frame of mind to sweet talk people into buying houses.

  Looking up through the glass of her office she scowled at Joanne, who quickly averted her eyes. What the hell was she looking at? Ever since the police had visited there was a strange atmosphere – as if everyone at Shepherd, Percival and Proctor had something to say, but remained silent - like they suspected she did know something about Ken’s disappearance.

  Well, she didn’t. If she had the slightest inkling where he was, then she wouldn’t be half as stressed out.

  Snatching up the receiver, Helen stabbed in the numbers for Manning Sales and Lettings. She knew the number off by heart being as she’d called it so many times over the last few days. Agitatedly picking the skin around one of her fingernails, she couldn’t stop her foot from impatiently tapping on the floor as she waited for the call to be answered. Ring, ring, bloody ring. Come on!

  ‘Manning Sales and Lettings,’ the musical voice said, sounding akin to a jingle from a dreadful radio advert.

  ‘This is Helen Shepherd, from Shepherd, Percival and Proctor. I’m ringing to see if you’ve had any updates about Ken?’ Helen said, maintaining decorum when really she wanted to scream.

  ‘Hello, Mrs Shepherd. I’m afraid there’s still no news. I know you’re concerned - we all are, but like I said yesterday, as soon as we hear anything, one of us will give you a ca...’

  ‘Yes, yes, I know that,’ Helen snapped, her patience thin. ‘Could you then please check to see if Ken had any contracts ready for me?’

  The pause from the other end of the line signified that it was bad taste to request such a thing under the circumstances. Realising her mistake, Helen attempted to backtrack. ‘I’m sure Ken wouldn’t want any of his sales to fall through in his absence. You know how meticulous he is.’

  ‘I can’t get into his computer without his password, Mrs Shepherd.’

  Yes, you can, Helen thought. Any decent technical person would know how to easily override that, but she didn’t voice her thoughts. She knew when not to push things and in retrospect, it wasn’t the greatest idea to get someone to go through Ken’s computer. Although he wouldn’t have left a trail on the Oak Apple Apartments or preliminary information for the sale of Footlights, it could still look suspicious. She didn’t want to give the police any further reason to think, due to her increased contact with him lately, that she may have had something to do with his disappearance.

  ‘None of us want to put in a request to override Ken’s machine. That would... would almost feel like we’re accepted he isn’t coming back... and none of us want to imagine that being a possibility.’

  ‘No, of course not,’ Helen muttered, wishing she hadn’t bothered phoning. Manning Sales and Lettings had a rather high percentage of snivelling gimps in its employment.

  ‘Oh, my other line is ringing. I must go,’ Helen lied. ‘Please keep me posted.’

  Putting the phone down without waiting for a response, Helen tapped her fingers on the desk. She could hardly call Ken on his mobile again. The police would be monitoring it and if she kept phoning, they’d be back round to interrogate her.

  Where the hell was he?

  Hearing her mobile buzzing, Helen scrabbled around in her handbag. That might be him now. Finally. Heart racing, she snatched the phone up. ‘Ken?’

  ‘Hi, Mrs Shepherd. It’s Darren Harding. Sorry it’s taken me so long to return your call, I’ve b...’

  ‘I’ll have to call you back, Mr Harding,’ Helen barked, abruptly ending the call. It wasn’t best practice to bin off a client who might be calling to put an offer in on a very expensive property, but she couldn’t speak to him right now. She’d call him back, but not now. Not just yet.

  Hearing a knock on the door, Helen looked up, her eyes narrowing at Joanne’s botoxed face through the glass.

  Taking Helen’s attention as the go ahead to enter, Joanne opened the door. ‘Sorry to disturb you, Mrs Sh...’

  ‘Not now, Joanne,’ Helen barked. ‘I’m up to my neck. Whatever it is will have to wait.’

  Joanne’s face remained predictably expressionless. ‘I’m afraid it’s...’

  ‘Did you not hear me? I’m busy!’ Helen snarled, pointedly looking at her list of appointments, her hand reaching for the telephone. Couldn’t the stupid cow get the hint?

  ‘I have a lady on the main line calling about your mother. I wouldn’t have interrupted, but she said she’s tried you on your mobile but couldn’t get through, so...’

  ‘My mother?’ Helen repeated.

  ‘It’s a lady called Teagan Fraser. I thought I’d better let you know being as she has your personal number, I thought it must be importa...’

  ‘Put her through, put her through,’ Helen muttered. Great. This was all she needed. What did the stupid girl want now? Probably asking what sort of cereal her mother preferred or something equally inane.

  Joanne scuttled back to her desk, quickly transferring the call and when the phone rang, Helen snatched it up, steeling herself to act pleasant.

  ‘MY! AREN’T THEY JUST BEAUTIFUL!’ Dulcie bent to smell the red roses in the large bouquet. ‘And who are these from, may I ask? A new admirer, I hope, rather than the dolt who wanted your forgiveness. If they’re from him, I suggest you throw them out with the potato peelings!’

  Teagan blushed and fiddled with the card that had accompanied the flowers. ‘They’re from an old friend. I thought I’d put them where we can both see them, rather than hide them away in my bedroom,’ she smiled. ‘I hope it’s ok to use this vase?’

  ‘Of course it is, my dear,’ Dulcie replied. ‘So, are you going to tell me who they’re from or forever keep me hanging? An old friend, you say?’

  Teagan coloured once again. Should she class Darren as an old friend? What did it matter? He’d sent her these gorgeous roses and she didn’t think she’d ever had
such a nice surprise. She’d certainly never had a lovely bouquet like this.

  Joe had bought her flowers once. She remembered it well – her 23rd birthday. She’d been pleased, but it had been difficult to ignore the £1.50 price tag from the local garage and the ‘reduced’ sticker, still stuck to the ripped cellophane. She’d even bypassed that half of the carnations in the small bouquet were dead.

  It was the thought that counted, wasn’t it? Not that Joe put much thought into anything, but those half-dead flowers were marginally better than the previous years’ birthday presents, which had been nothing.

  These flowers from Darren – well, wow! Teagan’s heart fluttered.

  ‘What’s the occasion?’ Dulcie asked seeing the joy on Teagan’s face. ‘It’s not your birthday is it? Don’t tell me it is and I didn’t know?’

  ‘No, it’s not my birthday. I used to go to school with Darren and we got back in touch recently. I met up with him on my afternoon off.’ Teagan pulled the card from her pocket. ‘It says, ‘Really enjoyed our afternoon’.’

  Dulcie sat forward, her eyes dancing with mischief. ‘And what else does it say?’

  Smiling bashfully, Teagan looked back at the card. ‘It also says, ‘Let me know when you’re next free so I can take you to dinner’. And he’s put his phone number... and a kiss...’

  ‘Well, phone him up then!’ Dulcie winked. ‘Tell him you’d love to go.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know... I don’t know when I’d go,’ Teagan murmured.

  ‘Go whenever you like!’ Go tonight if you want.’

  ‘But it’s not my day off!’

  ‘Pah! Who cares about that? Life’s too short. If I say it’s alright, then it’s alright!’ Dulcie clapped her hands together. ‘I hope this young man is handsome? I told you it wouldn’t be long before you got snapped up. That Joe was very silly to lose you.’

  Teagan’s face fell. Joe. She still hadn’t told him her decision about the keys, partly because she knew he wouldn’t like it, but mainly because she knew she’d rant about what he’d done and right now, she didn’t have the energy. But if she didn’t call him soon, it wouldn’t be long before he was on her back demanding an answer.

  She glanced at the excitement on Dulcie’s face, sorrow and guilt engulfing her fourfold. Dulcie had been so nice about having an extra evening off to go and have dinner with Darren, whilst she had contemplated giving two random violent strangers access to her house. It might have been only for ten seconds, but she’d thought about it all the same.

  She’d also called Helen and asked for an urgent meeting and sometime this afternoon she would betray this old lady’s confidence further. Once Helen was aware of how much Dulcie had deteriorated, she would move her out of her beloved house and ship her off to a home – the one thing Dulcie didn’t want.

  All the joy from the surprise bouquet dissolved. She might be betraying Dulcie, but only because it would keep her safe. Sadly, even knowing that didn’t make her feel any better.

  Twenty Seven

  IT HAD BEEN WORTH IT. WELL WORTH IT.

  Helen smiled as she made her way to Robert’s flat. She’d been all depressed – so much so that she very nearly hadn’t bothered giving Teagan the time of day, but how glad was she now that she had?

  Parking up outside the small block of flats where Robert lived, Helen pressed the central locking for her car - twice, just to make sure. She looked around, making a mental note of anyone hanging around. The area wasn’t particularly bad, but then it wasn’t particularly good either and she didn’t want some chav wandering past, scraping a key along the side of her Mercedes just because they’d never be able to afford one.

  Why Robert hadn’t bought himself a nice house was beyond her. He’d always been a bit off-beat, but to remain in the flat he’d purchased twenty years ago was weird. Even for him. It wasn’t like he hadn’t got the money. Going freelance as a computer programmer had done him well. And that was exactly why she was here because until Ken showed up again she was forced to talk Robert into stumping up the money for the Oak Apple apartment.

  God, it was galling. Without Ken on the scene the apartment would lose the 35k reduction. It was such a nuisance. He had to decide to go missing, didn’t he? Any other time would have been just fine, but not just now.

  Still, after what Teagan said, this was the prime opportunity to make a move and Robert would struggle finding a valid reason to disagree with her this time.

  Looking a teenager up and down in contempt as he watched through a grubby net curtain from the neighbouring flat, Helen banged on Robert’s green door. He worked from home on a Thursday, so he’d better not have broken the habit of a lifetime and gone into the office.

  She was about to knock for the second time when the door opened. Saying nothing, Robert turned his back and walked off down the hallway.

  Screwing her face up at her brother’s usual display of rudeness, Helen followed, kicking the door shut behind her. She walked past the antique grandfather clock dwarfing the height of the 1970’s ceiling and took extra care not to snag her blouse on a sharp swirl of the anaglypta wall.

  ‘Why you insist remaining in this monstrosity never ceases to amaze me,’ Helen griped, moving into Robert’s exquisitely furnished sitting room – completely at odds with the whole place.

  Without even looking up from his computer screen, Robert gestured for Helen to sit down. ‘I presume you haven’t graced me with your presence purely to make catty remarks about my home?’

  Helen bit back the retort itching to escape from between her lips. How she hated her brother.

  Although she wanted to fire back a suitable venomous comment, she refrained. Whether she liked it or not, she needed Robert to fulfil her plan. She would not lose her business. She’d worked too hard.

  Helen watched her brother tap away at his computer like she wasn’t even in the room. ‘Aren’t you even going to ask why I’m here?’

  Robert continued tapping away, his eyes firmly glued to the screen. ‘I’m presuming you’ll get to that at some point? You don’t usually have an issue saying what you want and rarely need prompting.’

  Feeling her irritation rise further, Helen fought to keep it under wraps. It was imperative she got Robert on board. ‘I had a call from Teagan this morning.’

  Receiving a grunt in response, she wasn’t altogether surprised. Robert made no secret of not liking the girl, thinking her presence ‘pointless’, but as over-protective about their mother as he was, Helen knew, when push came to shove, he’d insist on doing the best thing for mummy dearest. And it was her job to make sure he believed this was the best thing. If she pulled this off correctly, then he would insist they did everything she’d already planned.

  Biting back a smile from the delicious irony, Helen pulled from her large reserve of on-tap expressions, settling on a concerned look to begin with. ‘I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t important, Robert,’ she said. ‘I felt it only right to discuss this with you, especially as you’re under the impression I make decisions without your input and behind your back where Mother is concerned.’

  She looked down at her hands. ‘I probably am guilty of doing that sometimes, but I really need your opinion on this,’ she said, steadily resenting having to adopt a grovelling approach, but if it got her where she wanted, she’d live with it. For now.

  Helen’s words piqued Robert’s interest enough to give her some attention. Pulling himself away from his screen he turned his cold blue eyes on her. ‘What has that girl done? She had better not have done anything to upset Mother. I told you that she all but treated me like a burglar not that long ago and if she’s...’

  ‘It’s Mother.’ Helen morphed her concerned look into a distressed one. She brushed her hair behind her ear, then put her hands in her lap, wringing them together. ‘Oh, I know we haven’t seen eye to eye about it for a long time and I can’t blame your reticence to accept she’s losing her mind, but... oh...’

  Looking away, she half
-covered her face, hoping that she hadn’t lost the ability of forcing a few tears out on demand.

  ‘What is it? What’s happened?’ Robert sat upright, his body tense. ‘Is Mother alright? Helen, what’s going on?’

  Pulling a tissue from her bag, Helen dabbed at her eyes and sniffed sadly. ‘Mother’s a lot worse than we realised. Than I realised... Lots of things have happened and regardless of your dislike of the Teagan girl, without her being there it wouldn’t have been brought to my attention. We’d never have known until something really dreadful happened.’

  ‘Go on,’ Robert said, switching his computer to standby as Helen recounted the whole worrying story of what Teagan had said.

  PULLING ON TO THE DRIVE, glad to see James’ car was nowhere to be seen, Helen made her way towards the garage.

  The visit to Robert had gone so much better than she’d anticipated. He’d been horrified as she’d told him what Teagan said happened some nights – where their mother was awake and conscious, but with her mind in a different place and time. How she hallucinated - believing people were in her house and that Teagan was somebody else. Not to mention being confused over what her own surname was. Their mother had also been physically aggressive on more than one occasion too.

  Helen left the bit about what Teagan had said about their mother being convinced she was being poisoned out – that wouldn’t have achieved anything.

  By the end of the conversation the outcome surpassed Helen’s best case scenario. Robert had gone through a cycle of disbelief and anger, before ending with pure unbridled worry, but he’d been the one to say it. He’d been the one to say, ‘you were right. There’s no other way for it. We need to get her into a specialist home. A specialist facility.’ And from there it had been plain sailing.

  Oh, she’d had no problem turning on the tears in the right places. She’d also done a good job mentioning Ken had been talking about a retirement complex only the other night – the night he’d disappeared and she’d buy it right now only she couldn’t afford it, with the shortfall in her commission from the business over the last few months.