by Susan Lewis
‘Here, drink this, pet,’ Martha encouraged, passing her a glass, ‘it’s the best medicine for shock.’
Taking a glass too, Martin said, ‘The people who’re supposed to be moving into the house today were informed last night that it can’t happen, and Melvin’s been keeping a watch on the place this morning ready to turn back any removal vans.’
Angie finally managed to say, ‘Does Shalik know that you have the will? How did you even get it?’
‘It was simpler than you might think,’ Martin replied. ‘One of the legal team approached his estranged wife, Sarina, and she was extremely helpful. Apparently Hari changed his will just after he was told his cancer was terminal. Roland and his lawyer believed they’d destroyed all evidence of it, but Sarina not only knew about it, she managed to get hold of her own copy. Her purpose was to make sure she got everything Hari had promised her, because she didn’t trust Roland to carry out his father’s wishes. As it turned out Roland did give her what was rightfully hers, so she had no reason to challenge the will because she thought her husband was acting on the correct one. She had no idea until the legal team approached her that Roland had cheated you and Steve out of what should have been yours. As soon as she was told she handed over her copy for scrutiny. And to answer the other question, yes, Shalik knows we have it. As soon as he found out, which was a couple of weeks ago, he offered to refund all the rent you’ve paid since his father’s death – he has to do that anyway – along with a large cash payment as recompense. Or you could call it a bribe not to take matters further. The legal team turned this down on your behalf. I hope that was the right decision?’
Angie managed a nod, feeling sure she’d agree once she had a proper handle on it.
Martin continued, ‘He was arrested two days ago, charged and released on bail pending further investigations into “other matters”. If you’re worried he might try to contact you, I think you can rest easy. The further investigations kind of dwarf what he’s done to you, so he’s got plenty else to be thinking about.’
Martha said, ‘He’s a liar and a cheat who deserves to go to prison for this.’
‘He will, and not only for this,’ Martin assured her.
Angie looked at them, wishing she could feel something more than incredulity, or find the right questions to ask, but for the moment all she could say was, ‘What about his wife? Is she safe? I should thank her …’
‘Apparently she’s already returned to her family in Pakistan,’ Martin replied, ‘but I’m sure we can get an address if you want to write to her.’
Angie nodded. Yes, she did want to write to her, but not today. Today, in this moment, she was aware of a strange, numbing exhaustion starting to spread through her as if trying to shut her down.
Martha eased her into a chair and gently massaged her temples. ‘Shock’s definitely got a hold of you,’ she declared, ‘but not to worry, it’ll pass.’
Martin’s eyes were gently smiling as he watched her.
‘You’ll be glad to have your flat back,’ she tried to joke.
He shrugged.
Martha said, ‘We need to contact the debt adviser and make sure Angie’s outstanding rent is removed from what she owes. I know we’ve already had a cash refund of rent paid … Is it in the envelope?’ she asked Martin.
He nodded.
Angie looked at the envelope that apparently contained more cash than she’d ever held in her life. She pressed her hands to her cheeks. They were burning hot and she was shaking. It still felt like a dream, and for some bizarre reason she thought she was going to throw up. She took a breath to steady herself and felt Martha’s comforting hand on her shoulder again. She couldn’t tell them what was in her mind now, it wouldn’t make sense to them, or it would make her seem ungrateful, or … She had no idea how they would take it, but she couldn’t stop herself thinking of all the other people who’d lost their homes through the roll-out of universal credit, the build-up of debt, the actions of unscrupulous landlords … Yes, she’d been cheated out of hers so she deserved to get it back, but if these past months had taught her anything, it was that everyone deserved somewhere to live.
On the other hand it cheered her to know that there was one person she could help now, and that was Hamish. If she couldn’t find a suitable place for him by the time Hill Lodge and Hope House were sold, he could come and stay with them at Willow Close.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Andee had been through the necessary undignified security checks and was now seated at a small square table in the prison’s visitors’ area. It was as gloomy as a medieval dungeon with its high, church-like windows and dark stone walls, and as malodorous as a bunch of unwashed men could make it, with a heavy dose of bleach trying to cover it up. The noise of children shrieking rose in peaks from the low burble of adult voices, while burly, belligerent guards kept watch from a wooden dais next to the security doors. Everything was just as she remembered from a previous visit, when she’d been helping a friend with a case of wrongful imprisonment.
She kept her eyes averted, unwilling to engage with anyone else in the room. Prince hadn’t made it through from his cell yet, but she had no reason to believe he wouldn’t show.
‘He’ll enjoy a bit of grandstanding,’ her old friend and ex-boss, DCI Gould had commented, when she’d told him where she was going today and why. ‘He’s an arsehole of the first order. The very definition of scum. You’ll see what I mean.’
She recognized Prince the instant he came into the room, from the shots Gould had shown her. He was scraggier now, and taller than she’d imagined, but it was the same tattooed neck, scarred cheeks and mean little eyes that had made viewing the photographs so unpleasant. His mouth, she noticed as he came closer, was a home for open sores, and if they weren’t puncture wounds and track marks in the creases of his elbows she had no idea what else they could be.
‘Well look at you,’ he drawled, sitting in the chair that was bolted to the floor and folding his tatooed arms. His unfortunate smile showed chipped, nicotine-stained teeth, and his voice was the rough croak of a heavy smoker overlaid with arrogance and menace. ‘Didn’t realize you were going to be a shot of eye candy. You might not be no spring chicken, but reckon you’re upping my cred around here, so thanks for that.’
Having no intention of engaging with that, Andee came straight to the point. ‘Do you know where Liam Watts is?’
Prince regarded her in mock astonishment. ‘What, no Hi Sean, thanks for seeing me, Sean? Where’s your manners, Mrs Ex-detective?’
She wasn’t surprised he’d looked her up; in fact she’d expected it. ‘Am I wasting my time?’ she asked shortly.
His grin widened. ‘No, I wouldn’t say that, but I want to know what’s in it for me?’
‘I haven’t brought cigarettes or drugs and I’m not giving you money, so looks like it’s time for me to go.’
‘Hang on, hang on,’ he raised a hand to stop her. ‘There are other ways of making it worth my while.’
She guessed from the leer what was coming next.
‘How about a quick hand job under the table?’ he suggested.
Her answering stare was one of such withering pity that it brought colour to his unshaven face.
He ran a thick hand over his chin and after a moment he said, ‘There’s got to be something in this for me, or why the fuck would I bother?’
Andee said, ‘I don’t think you know where he is. You’re just bored, you wanted a visit to break up the monotony of your pointless days, that’s why you agreed to see me.’
He cackled, apparently enjoying the mindread.
Deciding to take a different tack for a moment, she said, ‘Did someone order you to attack Steve Watts that day?’
His eyes narrowed as he looked back at her.
She waited, doubting he’d answer, but still willing to give him the chance.
He hawked loudly but mercifully didn’t spit. ‘There’s certain people out there,’ he said, swallowi
ng the phlegm, ‘who might suffer if I answered that, so think what you like.’
Guessing there was a threat hanging over his family to force him to maintain silence, she said, ‘Did you mean to kill him?’
He shrugged, and she realized he didn’t care one way or the other.
‘Was Liam with you?’
His beady eyes bored into hers. ‘Yeah, he was there.’
‘Did he try to stop you?’
He gave an incredulous snort. ‘Lady, Liam Watts doesn’t have it in him to stop picking his nose, so no way was he going to mess with us.’
So, if this lowlife was to be believed, Liam had witnessed his father’s murder. ‘Were you acting under instructions from one of the London gangs,’ she asked, trying again, ‘or was it someone local?’
His eyebrows pulled together. ‘Who the fuck are you talking about?’ he sneered. ‘I don’t know no London gangs.’
‘No, of course you don’t,’ she said sarcastically. ‘But you do know who runs the streets on the estate.’
He leaned in a few inches and it was all she could do to stop herself backing away from his foul breath. ‘Lady, you don’t want to go poking about in this shit, not if you want to stay breathing, know what I mean?
‘Is that a threat?’
‘Take it any way you like.’ He sat back again, puffing out his scrawny chest as though it was something to be proud of.
‘Is Liam still being controlled?’
He snorted a laugh. ‘Now how the hell am I supposed to know that, being stuck in here?’
She sat staring at him, aware that being incarcerated did nothing to stop the flow of information.
In the end he surprised her when he said, ‘The answer to your question is I don’t know where he is.’
At that she picked up her bag and rose to her feet. ‘I know you don’t care that he has a mother who’s been going out of her mind trying to find him,’ she said, ‘but if you have any humanity in you at all you might give it some thought.’
‘Ho, ho, ho,’ he guffawed, but as she turned away he said, ‘Try talking to Moggie Merino’s sister. That silly bitch always had a soft spot for your boy, she might know where he is, if she knows anything at all, but chances are her brain’s all messed up by now.’ He grinned and mimicked shooting into a vein. ‘Know what I mean?’
Andee left, ignoring the wolf whistles and crude gestures that accompanied her across the room, relieved when she was back out into the fresh air.
Minutes later as she headed back to town she was connecting to Angie on the hands-free.
Angie was in the bedroom of Martin’s flat, packing up her and the children’s belongings, when the call came from Andee.
‘It was much as I expected,’ Andee told her. ‘He doesn’t know where Liam is, but he did suggest I talk to Maurice – Moggie – Merino’s sister.’
Angie’s mouth turned dry. The mere mention of the attackers’ names could make her feel nauseous as, like a grisly conjuring trick, it brought back memories of that terrible time.
Andee continued, ‘Apparently the girl had a soft spot for Liam, so it’s possible she sent the text telling you he was safe, but we won’t know that for certain until we talk to her. I’m guessing she’s still on the estate, but those particular streets aren’t somewhere I can go unaccompanied so I’ll see if I can get someone from the station to come with me. First though, do you know anything about her? Is she someone Liam mentioned or ever brought home with him?’
Sitting stiffly on the edge of the bed, Angie said, ‘He never introduced his so-called friends, but some of them were girls. Do you know the sister’s name?’
‘No, but it’ll be easy enough to find out. I just want you to be aware that there’s a chance Sean Prince is setting me up as sport for his old chums on the outside.’
Angie’s eyes closed. ‘What kind of people are they?’ she muttered.
‘I think we already know that,’ Andee replied soberly. ‘Incidentally, Prince didn’t admit that the gang was instructed to attack Steve, but he didn’t deny it either.’
Angie’s heart turned over. ‘So it’s possible Roland Shalik was behind it?’
‘If he was I don’t think we’ll ever get anyone to admit it. Apparently their families – those who are on the outside – are being used as insurance.’
Understanding what that meant, Angie put a hand to her head. ‘He can’t get away with it,’ she muttered. ‘He just can’t.’
‘One step at a time,’ Andee cautioned. ‘Let’s put him aside and focus on finding Liam for now. I’ll give the station a call today, but we all know how overworked and under-resourced they are, so I’ve no idea yet when I’ll be able to talk to Merino’s sister. As soon as I do I’ll let you know.’
After the call ended Angie remained sitting on the bed, phone clutched between both hands, as she replayed the conversation and Andee’s advice to forget Shalik for now and focus on Liam. It made sense, of course, and actually it wasn’t difficult, because much as she wanted to know if Shalik had been involved in Steve’s killing it would never bring Steve back, so finding her son was what really mattered.
‘Hey, you’re slacking,’ Emma declared, coming into the room. ‘One more trip down to the van should just about do it. I bet you didn’t realize you’d brought so much stuff with you.’
It was true, Angie hadn’t, nor had she imagined that she’d find leaving the flat such a wrench, especially when she was returning to Willow Close. Not that she wanted to stay, she really didn’t, but everything seemed to be happening so fast that she wasn’t sure she had a proper grip on it all.
‘Melvin rang a couple of minutes go,’ Emma told her, sealing up another box, ‘the furniture’s arrived and they’re starting to unload, so if you want to make sure everything goes in the right place we need to get a move on.’
Pulling herself together, Angie quickly shook out fresh sheets for the bed and began to make it. A laundry service, sent by Martha, had come to collect the used ones this morning and apparently the cleaner was due at four.
‘There’s no need for you to do anything,’ Martin had told her when he’d called first thing, ‘just concentrate on getting yourself settled back in at home.’
Despite his words, she couldn’t just leave without at least tidying the place and making sure all the dishes were washed and put away where they belonged. She’d sorted out the remote controls, making sure none were missing, and she’d done her best to replace everything they’d used from the fridge. He’d told her not to, of course, but she’d wanted to, if only to show him that she didn’t take anything for granted.
‘Hey,’ Emma said from the bedroom door, ‘leave that for the cleaner. We need to get going.’
Angie quickly finished the bed, carefully arranged the pillows and smoothed out the cover. She wondered if Martin would be sleeping here again as soon as tonight, and realized she probably ought not to dwell on that.
Picking up her phone and bag, she hefted a holdall on to her shoulder and made her way to the door. This was no time to start feeling nostalgic about a flat that wasn’t even hers, she told herself as she locked up, although she knew she’d always have a deep attachment to the place for the sanctuary that it, and its owner, had provided at one of the worst times of her life. Now she was returning to Willow Close where she and the children belonged, and where they would carry on with their lives able to feel safe and secure in their own home.
As Emma drove them away in the van, Angie said, ‘Have you had any luck finding a suitable place for Hamish?’
‘No, nothing yet,’ Emma replied, ‘but we’ve still got a few weeks – in fact, it could take months for those houses to sell given the state they’re in, maybe longer, so I’m sure we’ll come up with something by then.’
Although Angie nodded agreement she knew that Hamish wouldn’t do well living alone, and that there was virtually no chance of finding him another place like Hill Lodge, where he was head of the house with his surrogate fami
ly around him. ‘I still don’t think we should tell him anything yet,’ she said. ‘It’ll only worry him, and who knows, the buyers, when they come along, might want to keep the houses running as they are.’
Emma cast her a sceptical look. ‘We both know that’s not very likely,’ she commented, ‘but I agree with the part about not saying anything for now. Of course he’ll wonder why we’re not filling the vacant place, but it won’t be the first time we’ve had a little hiatus so hopefully he won’t think too much of it.’
After a while Angie said, ‘I’m considering inviting him to live with us, if we can’t find the right place for him.’
‘Yes, I know you are,’ Emma replied, ‘but you’re assuming he’ll want to be your lodger, and I’m not sure that he will.’
Since Angie wasn’t sure of it either, she let the subject go and checked who was calling her mobile. ‘It’s Martin,’ she said. ‘He’ll probably want to know if we’ve left yet.’
‘Tell me,’ Emma challenged, as Angie clicked on, ‘is this the second or third time he’s called today?’
Angie held up four fingers and said into the phone, ‘Hi, we’re on our way to Willow Close now.’
‘Great. Anything I can do?’
Wanting to say yes, just so she could see him, she said, ‘I think we’re fine for now, but thanks for asking.’ He was busy and just being kind, the way he always was.
‘OK, well you know where Martha is if you need anything.’ As she laughed he added, ‘Me too,’ and already picking up another call he rang off.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
The first week back at Willow Close was a hectic and even stressful time thanks to all the bureaucracy involved in making the house theirs again, but the joy of being there, of waking up in their own beds, of cooking in their memory-filled kitchen and being able to take baths and showers in their familiar bathroom was the very best feeling in the world.