by Susan Lewis
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Angie found the first week of staying at Martin’s flat surreal and crazy on just about every level. There was the bewildering paradox of living in a place of such luxury while undergoing her first brutal sessions with a debt adviser. There was also the sheer awfulness of returning to Willow Close to watch her furniture being carted out, looking as helpless as she’d felt to stop it from happening. It was the worst kind of grounding experience after the headiness of the past few days, a stark reminder of how desperate her financial situation remained.
True to his word Melvin oversaw the removal, making sure everything was carefully handled and stored in a secure area of his company’s warehouse. He even encouraged Angie to go and see it for herself, so she’d know exactly where it was and that it was being well looked after. She might have gone had she not had to rush off in Emma’s car to spend the evening delivering pizzas dressed as a bloody panda.
What the hell did pandas have to do with pizzas? she’d like to know. Just please God don’t let Martin or Martha call in with an order. He was back now so it could happen, and she knew she’d simply die if it did.
Fortunately it didn’t, but she wasn’t so lucky with Amy Cutler, who was amazed and thrilled when Angie Watts turned up at her door looking like Po Ping’s girlfriend. Satisfaction didn’t even begin to cover it.
‘I’m sure I have some bamboo around here somewhere,’ she’d said, glancing behind her as if there really might be the odd stalk or two, ‘if you don’t mind waiting.’
‘I’m good, thanks,’ Angie said tersely. ‘Fifteen pounds will do just fine.’
‘Oh, is that how much I owe? No problem,’ and delving into her purse she handed over a twenty-pound note. ‘Keep the change,’ she smiled.
Angie was tempted to slap the five-pound note back at her, but decided it was better in Zac’s pocket than in that appalling woman’s, so she kept it.
‘By the way,’ Amy said, as Angie turned to go. ‘I thought I should tell you before anyone else does that my friends, Phil Cotter and his wife Jenny, have had their offer accepted on your old house. I’m sure you remember them. They own the dry cleaner’s on Manor Road. They’re cash buyers, so they’ll be able to move in as soon as everything goes through.’
Angie’s heart had hit the floor. Yes, she knew the Cotters; they’d stiffed Steve once over a payment of hundreds of pounds, and now they were going to get his house. Where was the justice in that? However, she wasn’t going to give Amy Cutler the gratification of a response so she simply walked away, desperately wishing Emma was there to give the woman a thump in the face. Emma wouldn’t worry about the consequences the way Angie did.
Knowing that Shalik had already more or less sold the house affected Angie deeply throughout the weekend. She struggled hard to put it out of her mind, to focus only on the many ways in which her life was improving, or was perhaps about to improve, but it seemed her attachment to number 14 had no intention of letting go any time soon. Thinking back over the years she and Steve had spent there with the children, she wondered if she would ever hear any more from the mysterious ‘friend’ who’d texted assuring her that Liam was safe.
Fortunately, on Monday her double duties at BtG and Stone Construction began in earnest, and kept her so busy that she had little time to think of much else. She already loved working with Martha, learning all about the company and how Martin liked things to be done. She hadn’t seen him since his return from London, but when he called in briefly that afternoon he took the time to ask how she was and if everything was OK with the flat.
‘We need a catch-up,’ he told her as he was leaving. ‘Can you look at my diary and schedule yourself in one evening this week that suits you? Say around six? I’ll meet you here, if that’s OK.’
Without waiting for a reply he ran down the front steps, answering his mobile as he went, and moments later he was driving away in his black BMW.
‘Thursday,’ Martha announced as Angie walked back into their office. ‘He’s got something on every night this week, but he’s not due at a dinner until eight on Thursday.’
‘Is he always so busy?’ Angie asked, going to pack up the documents she was about to ferry over to the retirement-village building site. It made her think of Mark Fields, which inevitably took her mind to Hamish and the fact that he’d probably start wondering soon why no one was moving into Hill House to take Fields’s place. She and Emma needed answers about the will, so they could plan for the future of the men who didn’t even know their home was in jeopardy.
‘Yes, he’s always busy,’ Martha was saying, ‘but he likes it that way, keeps him out of trouble, he says. Did he happen to mention that he’s spoken to the housing officer on your behalf?’
Angie’s eyes rounded as her insides lurched. ‘No, he didn’t. When?’
‘I believe he called last Thursday while he was still in London. He won’t have heard back yet because Ronald Cousins, the head honcho, is away until next Monday, but being who he is himself usually gets a pretty quick response. And I believe you’re getting together with Andee tomorrow, is that correct?’
Angie nodded, nervous and excited about that too. Someone was finally going to try and help her to find Liam, and not just anyone for it was Martin’s ex-wife who she had to admit she was intrigued to meet.
Martha’s smile filled with affection. ‘She’s a lovely woman. You’ll like her. Everyone does.’
Though Angie longed to ask why her marriage to Martin had broken up, of course she didn’t. It was hardly any of her business, and she’d rather dance naked round Asda than have either Martha or Martin think she was prying into his private affairs.
Now, here she was on Wednesday afternoon at the Seafront Café, sitting opposite Andee Lawrence in the very same booth where she’d sat with Martin only a week ago. It seemed longer, although in other ways it still felt like a dream. As did the surprise of finding out that his ex-wife was none other than the kind woman she’d seen in the supermarket all those weeks ago filling the foodbank box. The woman she’d thought about several times since. She was beautiful, almost mesmerizing, with her soft dark curls, luminous aquamarine eyes and exquisitely shaped face.
After she’d ordered tea from a server she turned to Angie, and Angie felt a pleasing lift inside. She liked this woman instinctively, and could already feel her hopes rising.
‘I was really sorry to hear about your difficulties,’ Andee said softly. ‘I hope you don’t mind that Martin told me. I think he wanted me to understand why it’s important to try and help you.’
‘No, I don’t mind,’ Angie replied, knowing that she did, but she was hardly in a position to object. ‘It’s very kind of you to meet me.’
Andee smiled, and Angie couldn’t help wondering what on earth had gone wrong between her and Martin. How could he have left this woman when she seemed so perfect? Or perhaps it was the other way round, and she’d left him.
‘He knew,’ Andee continued, gesturing for the young waiter to set down their tea tray, ‘that as soon as he told me you’d lost track of your son I’d want to help. You see, finding missing people was … Well, let’s say it was kind of my thing when I was a detective.’
Angie said wryly, ‘I hope you don’t mind me saying, but you don’t look like a detective, or not how I imagine one to look anyway.’
Andee was clearly amused. ‘It’s been said before,’ she replied, ‘and I try to take it as a compliment.’
‘Oh it is,’ Angie assured her, and before she made a fool of herself by trying to tell Andee how she actually did look, she picked up one of the small teapots and filled her cup with the same mixed-berry infusion that Andee had ordered. She’d never had it before, but she liked the smell already. ‘I’m guessing he told you who my son is,’ she said, bringing them to the sobering reality of why they were there, ‘and what happened to his father?’
Andee nodded slowly. ‘Yes, he did. Actually, I should probably tell you that I remember your husb
and quite well. He did some work for me when I first started as an interior designer, and I hired him again when I took on the flats over at the marina. Sadly, he didn’t finish them …’ She paused as the reason he hadn’t came into focus. Her eyes were tender as she said, ‘I can’t begin to imagine how hard it was for you, or what you’ve been through since, but as a mother myself I can imagine how desperate you are to find your son.’ She didn’t add no matter what he’s done or who he is now, but Angie heard the words anyway.
‘Thank you,’ she said softly. ‘There are some who’d say I’m lucky to be rid of him after what happened, so thank you for not being one of them.’
Andee took a sip of her tea. ‘People often make judgements that are best left unspoken,’ she replied in a tone that suggested she’d come across it often. She put her cup down. ‘Martin mentioned a text.’
Angie took out her phone, called up the message and passed it over.
After reading it Andee checked the sender details and found, as Angie had, that they’d been withheld. ‘Do you have any idea who might have sent it?’ she asked.
Angie shook her head. ‘I don’t even know if it’s genuine. I mean does someone really want me to know he’s safe, or are they just trying to mess with my head?’
Andee passed the phone back. ‘Don’t delete it,’ she advised, ‘but for the moment there’s not much I can do with it. Even if I was still on the force I probably wouldn’t get the go-ahead to try and trace it, because it’s not threatening or attached to a crime.’ Apparently sensing Angie’s disappointment, she added, ‘In my experience people don’t send messages like this if they’re trying to mess with your head, or certainly not just the one, so I see no reason not to hope that he really is safe.’
Grateful for the reassurance, Angie held on to it, and said, ‘I probably drove the police mad during the months after he vanished. I kept going to the station begging them to try and find out where he was, or who he was with, but they had him down as a gang member, and he was seventeen, so he was never going to be a priority.’
‘No, he wouldn’t be,’ Andee admitted. ‘Am I correct in thinking that he was arrested for the attack on his father, but never charged?’
‘That’s right.’
‘But those who were sent down were known to be friends of his? Or fellow gang members?’
Angie couldn’t deny it, much as she wanted to. ‘They’re all local, but we – Steve and I – had read a lot about county lines by then, you know, urban gangs who use local gangs to target vulnerable kids in rural areas … After Liam was released, I guess it’s possible those criminals moved him to another area to make him work for them there. Or maybe he’s hiding from them somewhere as well as from me.’
Andee said, ‘Why would he hide from you?’
Angie’s voice faltered as she explained how she’d told her semi-delinquent son that he was dead to her. ‘He’d lost his father,’ she said wretchedly. ‘It’s possible he even witnessed what happened and there was nothing he could do to stop it. I don’t know if that’s true, but it’s what I keep telling myself, so when he came home that day he might have been even more traumatized than the rest of us … And I – I didn’t even let him in the house.’ She turned to stare blindly out of the window, seeing Liam’s haggard and frightened face as he’d watched her yelling at him, saying and doing nothing, until he’d finally turned away. ‘I was out of my mind back then,’ she said quietly. ‘I couldn’t think straight … I wanted to blame someone …’ She swallowed and turned back to Andee. ‘Not long before it happened he told my daughter, Grace, that he had to stay working for the gangs in order to protect us. Apparently they threaten people’s families if they don’t do as they’re told.’
‘Yes, it’s how they operate, I’m afraid.’ Andee refilled their cups and held hers in both hands as she thought. ‘I have to tell you,’ she said, ‘that it’s unlikely a county line gang is directly responsible for your husband’s death. It happened too spontaneously for that, which would be why the police didn’t look any further than the members of the estate gang who were arrested the same day. However, I think it’s a reasonable concern that after Liam left you that day he was sucked back into the network and sent to work elsewhere. What I need to ask you now is that if we discover he is still involved with them, voluntarily, are you sure you still want to see him?’
Angie stared into Andee’s watchful eyes, knowing it was a fair question, an obvious one even, but it wasn’t easy to answer when she had Grace and Zac to consider. ‘If he is still with them,’ she said in the end, ‘I really don’t believe it would be voluntarily. He has mild mental health issues that make him easy to take advantage of, and it could be that he still thinks he’s keeping the rest of us safe.’
Andee nodded her understanding. ‘OK,’ she said slowly. ‘Now, before I talk to the Kesterly police, can you remember who you were dealing with at the time of Liam’s arrest?’
Angie shook her head. ‘It’s all a bit of a blur, I’m afraid, but I’m sure I can find out.’
‘It’s OK, I can do that.’
‘Actually, there is someone,’ Angie said, producing her purse. ‘It’s a detective I saw recently. He wanted Liam’s DNA in connection with a crime that had taken place in Bristol. It turned out that he had nothing to do with it …’ She handed over the card she’d brought just in case.
Andee smiled. ‘Leo Johnson. I know him well. He used to be one of my DCs. I’m sure he’ll be willing to help us. To begin with, he’ll be able to search the national database to see if Liam’s name crops up anywhere else in the country. Of course there’s a chance he’s changed it, which’ll make everything more difficult, but let’s cross that bridge when – if – we come to it.’ She glanced at her watch. ‘You said you had to be somewhere by four?’
Startled by how quickly the time had gone, Angie said, ‘Oh yes, I’m picking my youngest son and nephews up from school.’ She dug into her purse for some cash to pay and pulled out a ten-pound note. ‘I can’t thank you enough for seeing me,’ she said, putting the money on the table. ‘You and Martin have both been so kind … I hardly know …’
‘Don’t worry about the thanks, or this,’ Andee smiled, pushing the money back to her. ‘We’re both happy to help in any way we can. I’ll be in touch as soon as I have some news.’
CHAPTER THIRTY
‘Angie? It’s Martin. Is this a good time?’
Smiling, because he invariably started a call that way, she said, ‘It’s fine. How are you?’
‘I’m good. I believe we’re getting together tomorrow evening, so I was wondering, instead of meeting at the office or the flat, how about a bite to eat?’
Experiencing a jolt of surprise, she paused at the gate to Hill Lodge to take it in. ‘I’d love to,’ she heard herself say as breezily as if she went out for bites to eat with him all the time. ‘I’ll just make sure it’s OK for both children to stay at Emma’s for the night. Actually, you have to be somewhere by eight, don’t you? They’ll be fine on their own until then.’
‘My dinner’s been cancelled so I’m free all evening, but if you want to be back by eight …’
‘No, I’m sure it’ll be OK with Emma.’
‘Great. I can fit in with whatever time works for you. Is there anywhere in particular you fancy going?’
‘Uh – um …’ What sort of place would he like? She mustn’t make it too expensive, or too downmarket. Italian? Indian? A pub? ‘Why don’t you choose?’ she said, happily passing it back.
‘Sure, I’ll give it some thought. Text and let me know when and where to pick you up. You’re at Bridging the Gap today, aren’t you?’
‘Only this morning. I’m with Martha this afternoon and most of tomorrow.’
His tone was droll as he said, ‘Good luck with that,’ and a moment later he was gone.
Angie remained where she was for a moment longer, absorbing the fact that he’d just invited her out for a meal. It didn’t mean anything of course, s
he realized that, although uppermost in her mind right now was the fact that she hadn’t been out with a man since Steve had taken her to the Luttrell Arms in Dunster just before the attack. But it obviously wasn’t going to be that sort of occasion, nothing at all to do with romance and grabbing some time together away from kids and the pressures of the day. Martin most likely wanted to know all about her chat with Andee, and how things were going with the lawyer and debt adviser. After the meetings and phone calls she’d had over the past few days she had plenty to tell him on every front, but she must remember not to make it all about her. Good manners alone dictated the need to ask about his business at least, and it would be interesting to know more about his children …
For now, though, she must focus on why she was at Hill Lodge.
Closing the gate behind her, she went to rap on the front door before using her own key to let herself in. Her worry over the details of Carlene Masters’ will hadn’t gone away, but at least Ivan was in Spain now, attending the funeral, and by the time he came back at the weekend he’d hopefully have some news to put everyone’s minds at rest.
‘Ah, there you are,’ Hamish stated as she entered the lovely warm kitchen to the mouth-watering aroma of something baking. ‘Kettle’s just about boiled and here’s our new friend Sasha, who’s very keen to meet you.’
A pale, almost emaciated girl in her early twenties with delicate features and wispy brown hair held out a hand to shake. Angie put real warmth into her smile. ‘Hello Sasha,’ she said, taking the slender hand, ‘I’ve heard a lot about you.’
Sasha’s answering smile showed white, healthy teeth, although a bottom one was missing. ‘Hamish and Craig tell me a lot about you too,’ she said, in a softly accented voice.
Craig came forward. ‘We’ve made biscuits,’ he informed her. He looked prideful, almost confident, something Angie hadn’t seen in him before. ‘We found the recipe on the back of a cereal box.’