An Old Score

by Edie Baylis

  Heath hesitated. Yep. Mercenary as fuck. Her mother was mad, the hired help had run off in tears and all she was bothered about what whether he was going to buy that place. Yeah, she’d do. She’d do nicely. He strongly suspected what he would put on the table, Helen would grab with both hands. From what he’d seen of the company finances, he didn’t doubt that she could use the money.

  Heath swallowed nervously. Here we go. ‘I do have an offer for you... But I think it’s best to go somewhere private to discuss it.’

  Thirty Two

  WALKING ACROSS THE LANDING, Teagan frowned noticing the door to the pink bedroom ajar.

  Peering in, she saw straight away that some of the furniture had moved, as well as the rug – usually placed at the end of the bed, was rolled up, exposing the polished wooden floorboards beneath.

  How odd, she thought, having not heard a thing last night despite being awake most of the time worrying. She’d half expected a restless night, what with Dulcie’s worsening behaviour and was surprised not to have had any disturbances at all. She hadn’t heard a peep out of her all night.

  Shrugging, Teagan continued down the stairs. She’d have to come up and sort it later, but needed to go and get the breakfast things out first.

  By rights she should have been in a great mood after how the evening had gone with Darren, but she couldn’t help but think she’d blown her chances. What a thing to do, she thought irritably. Was it any surprise that her relationships ended up a joke? Was it any wonder that men didn’t hang around – or hang around but not take her seriously?

  Fancy behaving like that at a crucial moment. Darren must think her a complete idiot. How many other people would be on the best date they’d ever had in their lives and then, in the middle of kissing the gorgeous man, scrabble off to answer the phone to an ex?

  It took all of her power not to start ripping clumps of her hair out in frustration. The only reason she was managing to refrain was because she knew Dulcie was staring at her.

  And then after insisting on going home, she’d promptly burst into tears like a child and ran off upstairs leaving Darren standing in the hallway to be grilled by Helen. Helen probably thought she was in the habit of sneaking men into the house now too. Oh, this was all becoming a nightmare. Damn Joe and his demands.

  But that was another worry. A huge one.

  Teagan glanced at her watch. She’d have to leave shortly to go and meet Joe like she’d stupidly agreed to do last night. She sighed miserably. As angry as she was with him, she couldn’t have ignored him last night, but if she’d been able to explain everything to Darren, it would have made the way she’d reacted a lot more understandable, but she could hardly tell him - she wouldn’t see him for dust if he knew what she’d found herself tangled up in.

  But then she’d probably never see him again anyway after acting like a weirdo.

  Fancy Joe having to deal with the decision about Alan. She couldn’t imagine being in such a dreadful position and was gutted that Alan had died. She’d been further horrified to hear Joe had seen one of those men again. Even though he’d been drunk when she’d spoken to him, the terror was clear in his voice through his slurred words.

  Although her original reaction had been to go to the police, she could see now why Joe had been adamant not to. As much as she hated to admit it, he was right, but that didn’t mean she would allow him to use her or Dulcie to buy him some time.

  A shiver ran through her and she dared to glance out of the window on the first floor landing. If those men were watching Joe, then it was likely they were also watching her. And Dulcie. Time was running out.

  Her mind filtered back to Darren Harding. It was unlikely that she’d see him again. When she’d finally come back downstairs last night he’d gone. Hardly surprising, but Helen had disappeared too, which was a bit odd. She’d have thought Helen would have waited for her to come downstairs before leaving.

  Dulcie had been acting very oddly too. She’d been staring into space and no matter what she said, Teagan had been unable to get a response. Dulcie hadn’t even uttered a word when she went to bed. She’d just silently moved from the sitting room and gone upstairs, looking bewildered.

  She studied Dulcie staring vacantly out of the window, that string of beads she played with in her hands. Teagan moved to pour the old lady a cup of tea, noticing her own hands were shaking. Her nerves were shot.

  She lightly touched Dulcie’s bony arm, hoping she wouldn’t detect the tremor making its way around her whole body. ‘Thank you for letting me have a night off last night. I had a really nice time and you were right. Darren’s a really nice man – the perfect gentleman.’ She smiled, sheepishly admitting to herself that she’d have most likely have allowed him to not be a gentleman at all, had it not been for Joe’s bad timing.

  Dulcie flinched, her blue eyes watery. ‘Darren, you say?’

  ‘Yes, Darren Harding. I told you the other day I went to school with him.’

  ‘Darren? Darren Harding?’ Dulcie repeated, almost to herself.

  Teagan frowned. ‘Are you alright? You seem a lit...’

  ‘What is his father’s name?’ Dulcie’s gaze wandered back to the French windows.

  ‘His father’s name?’ Teagan asked. ‘I-I have no idea. Why do you ask?’ That reminded her. Had Dulcie taken those new tablets? She must check and make sure because she was definitely getting worse.

  ‘He... he looks like... I thought...’ Dulcie’s voice trailed off.

  Teagan’s worry deepened. ‘He looks like who? Who does he look like?’

  Shaking her head quickly, Dulcie flapped her hand. ‘No one. It doesn’t matter. Ignore me.’

  HELEN’S ONLY CONCERN was to get to the address Darren, or should she say Heath Pointer, as she now knew him to be, had given to her last night.

  Still unable to work out whether what he’d said was a joke, a wind up or whether he was some kind of crazed nutter. There were things he’d told her which held the glimmer of possibility of it being the truth. And if it was...

  Her head had been going around and around all night and that was the only reason she was bothering to go to see what these people had to say today.

  Yes, she was annoyed that the alleged Mr Harding wasn’t in fact Mr Harding – as this meant no commission for The Gables, but her annoyance had been placated somewhat when Heath, as she now knew him to be, had informed her there was a huge amount up for grabs in what he’d got to suggest to her.

  But as for this stuff about being related? She couldn’t quite buy that one. Related how? He’d refused to answer any more questions, just insisted she come along today.

  Normally, she’d have laughed at such a suggestion and told him where to go, but right now she would take any option to improve her finances. It was worth half an hour of her time anyway. But a car sales place in White City? There was no logic to it. Still to go to the trouble of masquerading as a completely different person and the hassle of seeking her out, not to mention spending the evening with Teagan-boring-Fraser in a mad bid to get her attention, it had to be something promising. Either that or he was a serial killer?

  Even then she suspected there would be easier ways to go about it than the way he’d done it. It certainly wasn’t her money he was after. If it was, then he’d be in for a shock. Pressing down harder on the accelerator, Helen sped down the road. The quicker she got there, the quicker she’d find out what this was all about.

  As the tune on her stereo was suddenly interrupted by the loud ringing of her mobile through her in-car Bluetooth system, Helen stabbed blindly at the ‘answer call’ button on the steering wheel.

  ‘Yes?’ she snapped.

  ‘Helen?’

  Robert’s voice boomed around the car and Helen inwardly scowled. What did he want now? ‘Hi, Robert. Is everything ok?’ Be nice, remember? Be nice.

  ‘I just wanted to let you know that I’ve put the ball in motion to purchase that apartment for mother you mentioned.’


  Helen’s heart skipped a beat. ‘You have? Oh, that’s great news! That is such a weight off my mind.’ Even better.

  ‘Are you sure you don’t want to see it before this goes any further? I think perhaps we should go and lo...’

  ‘No need. It’s fine,’ Helen said briskly. ‘You saw the particulars I forwarded you by email? The ones Ken sent over before he went missing? I really don’t think we need to see it. It will only slow things up and you know time is of the essence here, what with mother’s health.’

  Robert was being worryingly nice to her, but she wasn’t complaining, even if it was slightly out of character. It would be just her luck for one of the staff there to remember her and then he’d get suspicious and she couldn’t have that. Not now.

  ‘Well, if you’re sure?’

  ‘I’m sure. I read up about it. The complex has everything mother needs,’ Helen said confidently, suddenly swerving to take a turn she’d almost missed.

  ‘Do we need to provide any medical assessment?’

  ‘Medical assessment? Why would she need a medical assessment?’ Helen said. What was he trying to say now? Please don’t say he was questioning the validity again?

  ‘I mean, before mother is eligible for one of those apartments? We don’t want to buy it only to find th...’

  ‘No. She won’t need that. But I’ll double check if you’d prefer.’ Helen promised - not that she had any intention of doing so.

  ‘I was thinking of getting a private assessment done for mother not so long ago,’ Robert said. ‘I’ll admit I was hoping to prove you wrong about her state of mind, but I guess I have to say however much it pains me, that there isn’t much point now.’

  Helen’s skin twitched. So, he’d been trying to get one over on her? At least he’d admitted defeat. All of these people would have to admit defeat soon. ‘I think it would have been difficult to get an assessment anyway being as she wouldn’t see the doctor,’ Helen said through gritted teeth. It was so hard being nice to Robert.

  ‘Well, I know that she requested a copy of her medical notes from the doctors a couple of years ago. She’s got them somewhere in the house, but do you think I could find them?’ Robert sniffed haughtily. ‘And when I was looking for them, that bloody girl all but accused me of being a burglar!’

  Helen’s eyes narrowed. Robert really had been sniffing around. Well not anymore. Way too slow, Robert. Way too slow. ‘Ok, well I must go. Thanks for letting me know about the apartment. Like I said, it’s a huge weight off my mind. I was so worried they’d both be snapped up before I could get the money together, but thanks to you, it’s all fine.’ Aaargh. It really stuck in her throat having to thank this supercilious bastard brother of hers, but being as he was playing nicely at the moment, then she’d live with it.

  ‘That reminds me,’ Robert droned. ‘Tell James he needn’t worry anymore.’

  Helen’s skin prickled. ‘James?’

  ‘Yes, James left me a message the other day. He called several times in fact. I presumed he was worrying about this.’

  ‘This?’ Helen gasped, apprehension bubbling in her throat. ‘What did he say?’

  ‘Not much. Just a short message that he needed to talk to me about something. I’m afraid I haven’t got round to calling him back yet.’

  ‘And he didn’t say what?’

  ‘No, but he sounded worried, hence why I’m presuming it was over this business over the money for the apartment. That’s why I wanted to call you to put your mind and his, at rest and let you know I’d started the process. I must remember to call him back later.’

  ‘Oh, don’t worry about that,’ Helen said quickly. ‘I’ll let him know as soon as I get home. He has been flapping about it. You know he’s always been a bit of a worrier and I guess he feels uncomfortable that I’ve had to come to you, rather than him being in a position to fund it.’

  Helen’s mind churned over. James knew nothing about the apartment, so why was he calling Robert? He never called Robert. They’d barely said two words to each other.

  Ending the call, Helen covered the last two miles to White City as quickly as the heavy traffic would allow. She’d work out what James’ game was later, but first she wanted to know what Heath Pointer was talking about.

  Thirty Three

  ‘SHE’S LATE.’ Mike nervously paced up and down his office. ‘Are you sure she’s definitely coming?’

  Heath nodded. ‘She’ll be here.’

  Mike shook his head in disbelief. ‘I still can’t believe you blurted it out like you did. She could have gone to the police.’

  Heath laughed. ‘Nah! You know I’ve always been pretty good at reading people and I was spot on with Helen Shepherd.’ He grinned confidently, even though he’d been a lot less confident last night when he’d told Helen his real reason for being there.

  It was understandable her initial reaction was disbelief, but when her face changed – physically changed as her mind digested the information, he could see her mind whirring in front of his very eyes. She knew he wouldn’t be saying what he’d said unless there was truth in it. ‘Yep, a mercenary bitch that one.’

  ‘What makes you think this isn’t a set up?’ Mike asked, his frown lines deep as he peered through the fishbowl glass for any sign of a silver Mercedes. ‘She could bring the police with her – accuse us of extortion.’

  ‘You’re far too paranoid, Dad,’ Heath laughed. ‘Why would she do that? She knows I’m telling the truth, otherwise she’d have called them last night.’ He shook his head. ‘She wants this as much as we do. She needs this as much as we do.’

  Mike frowned. ‘Then why not tell us to sling our hook and deal with it herself?’

  Heath grinned. ‘Like I pointed out to her last night, she doesn’t know enough yet – whereas we do. The deal is we tell her what we know and she gives us access – or locates it and we split it.’

  He sat back in the chair watching his father pace around like a nervous trapped animal. ‘As I bluntly said last night, you know me – she’s an estate agent – she hasn’t the contacts to shift stolen jewels.’

  ‘What? And we do?’ Mike raised his eyebrows. ‘Because it’s fucking news to me!’

  Heath laughed. ‘Ah, but she doesn’t know that. It doesn’t matter anyway because unlike her, we have the nous to find the contacts. We just need the stuff.’

  ‘Glad you’re so bloody confident,’ Mike grumbled.

  ‘I told you we’d find a way to sort out your debts and we will,’ Heath reassured. ‘This will work. It’ll work well. We’ll split the difference and everyone’s happy.’

  Mike clenched his jaw. As much as he loved and admired his son’s optimism, he couldn’t help feeling it might not be as simple as that. But maybe he was being cynical. What if Heath was correct? Even if he wasn’t, things couldn’t get any worse.

  Seeing the reflective flash of metal outside, Mike stiffened and squinted against the morning sun. ‘Is this her?’

  Heath followed the direction of his father’s eyes. ‘Yep, that’s her. Are you ready? Let’s do this.’

  JOE HALF FELL DOWN THE STAIRS, his hangover grating horribly. Stumbling into the kitchen, he swallowed two paracetamol with a swig from a bottle of flat coke left on the side.

  He really shouldn’t have necked all that vodka last night. It was doing him no favours this morning. It was difficult to tell whether the constant nausea was courtesy of his hangover or the prospect of having to go and meet Teagan.

  He glanced at the clock. At least he’d woken up in time and supposed he should be grateful he’d remembered even having the conversation with her last night at all. Christ, he’d been steaming, but nothing had changed. Alan was dead, the psychos were still on his back and he still had to get those keys off Teagan.

  He would have to pull off a sterling job of distracting her, he knew that much. Although he wasn’t entirely sure of the reason why she’d refused to help him with the keys, he sensed little point trying to get her to chan
ge her mind. He’d have to do something else and do it fast.

  Joe dragged his fingers through his tangled hair in a pathetic attempt to brush it. All he wanted to do was go back to bed, but he couldn’t. He took another swig of warm coke, the taste making him retch.

  Spotting a small parcel on the mat at the end of the short hallway, Joe staggered to fetch it, realising with dread that it was for him. Not recognising the scrawled handwriting, he ripped at the brown paper with fumbling fingers. The minute he saw the cheap mobile phone, complete with charger, he knew what it was for. It was from them.

  He scrabbled on the floor for the brown paper, searching it for an identifying post mark, but all that was legible or available to hint where it had been posted from was a post office stamp from ‘London’. That narrowed it down then...

  He must admit, it hadn’t even crossed his mind on how to contact them once he had the keys. He presumed they’d somehow know. After all, they seemed to know everything else about his bloody life. But yeah, it made sense. This phone was from them. It was obvious.

  With shaking hands he pressed the ‘on’ button, finding the phone fully charged as he’d expected it might be. He didn’t really want it to switch on. He wanted it not to work. He wanted to go back to bed and backtrack a few weeks to when his life had been normal. When it had been simple and free from this... this abject shit.

  But no...

  Pressing the contacts list, Joe saw only one number listed:

  Name: Alan

  Joe swallowed. They had to take the fucking piss, didn’t they?

  Shoving the phone, along with his usual mobile into his pocket, he sparked up a fag and quickly left the house before he changed his mind.

  TEAGAN WAS A BAG OF NERVES and her whole body trembled. She’d told Dulcie she was nipping down the road to the shop for milk, but she’d lied. And she didn’t like lying.

  Dulcie had been cold towards her, almost like she sensed something was going on and the weight of the whole situation was wearing Teagan down. Maybe she should just leave? It seemed she was affecting everyone around her in a negative way and it was getting to her – around with Joe’s lies – they were getting to her as well. In fact, everyone seemed to be lying – including her and the whole thing was uncomfortable.