The Dead Wife

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The Dead Wife Page 22

by Sue Fortin


  He thumped the closed door with the side of his clenched fist. ‘For fuck’s sake, Steph!’ he shouted. He was reluctant to think she’d come to Conmere with the intention of digging around in his past and yet everything seemed to be pointing straight to that. How the hell had he let himself become involved with her?

  He took a quick shower and was towel-drying his hair when there was a loud rap on the front door. Harry opened the door expecting – or was that hoping? – to see Steph there. He was disappointed. Instead, his older brother marched in.

  ‘Don’t stand on ceremony. Just come right in,’ said Harry sarcastically, pushing the door closed.

  ‘It’s not like you’ve got any visitors,’ said Dominic.

  ‘As far as you know.’

  ‘I just saw Steph Durham go by my place,’ said Dominic. ‘I take it she was here.’

  ‘None of your business,’ said Harry.

  ‘That’s a yes, then.’ Dominic flopped down in the chair. ‘What did you find out?’

  ‘About what?’ Harry knew what Dominic meant, but his brother’s attitude was pissing him off.

  ‘About what she’s doing here,’ said Dominic, with a trace of impatience. ‘Did you ask her about her mother?’

  ‘There is nothing to find out,’ said Harry, still feeling a loyalty towards Steph. ‘I’m certain she’s here for genuine reasons. She’s here as a travel writer, a photographer, that’s all.’

  ‘I don’t know what I’ve got to do to convince you she’s up to no good,’ said Dominic.

  ‘What exactly is your problem?’ Harry was beyond tired with Dominic’s seeming paranoia.

  ‘I’ve told you before. I don’t want her poking around. Bringing up stuff that’s bad for business and bad for Mum with the way she is right now. And you would do well to remember that.’

  ‘Don’t you dare try emotional blackmail on me. What are you frightened of?’

  ‘Did you know Steph met Sonia Lomas today?’

  ‘What?’ Harry’s body tensed.

  ‘Thought that might create a response.’ Dominic sat forward. ‘Mum spotted Sonia being dropped off at the station. She only noticed her because she saw Steph’s car. It’s all dented down one side. That’s what caught her attention.’

  ‘And Steph was driving?’

  ‘Mum didn’t see who was driving, but she said it was definitely Sonia in the passenger seat and you must’ve seen Steph’s car. If not, take a look.’

  ‘She said she was meeting a friend today.’

  ‘Guess Sonia is the friend. Now do you believe me? It’s no coincidence – Wendy Lynch’s daughter, Sonia Lomas’s friend. I’m not being paranoid but she’s here for a reason and it isn’t to report on the resort. She needs talking to.’

  ‘I’ll do it,’ interjected Harry. ‘I’ll speak to her, not you. Understand?’

  Dominic held out his hands. ‘Hey, mate. Don’t get so het up. It’s best you know now, but if you can’t sort this out then I’ll have to.’

  ‘Leave it to me. You stay away.’ Harry was aware of the hostility in his voice, and the flicker of surprise on his brother’s face suggested he was too.

  ‘It’s cool. Just make sure you do.’ Dominic rose from the chair. ‘In the meantime, I’m going to pay Wendy Lynch a visit.’

  Harry wasn’t sure he liked Dominic’s comment, but he was too consumed with anger to question him.

  Harry threw on his jacket and, grabbing his keys, wallet and mobile, stormed out of the house, barking at his brother to lock the door on his way out.

  Just what the hell was Steph up to? He had been totally mugged off by her. This time he wasn’t going to let her avoid the questions. He was going to have it out with her once and for all. Direct and straight to the point the way he should have been in the first place.

  Harry reached the house in double-quick time, only just remembering to acknowledge Heidi’s greeting as he marched through to the back of the house and ascended the wooden staircase, taking the steps two at a time.

  By the time he reached the second floor, he kind of wished he had been less petulant and taken the lift, but anger was a great motivator and he only paused for breath once he was outside Steph’s room, and even then it was only a matter of seconds before he hammered at the door.

  Steph opened the door with a look of caution and then a smile, which quickly became an air of concern as she registered his expression.

  ‘Harry …’ she began.

  ‘Who was the friend you met today?’ he demanded.

  ‘What?’

  ‘The friend that you met today. What is her name?’

  ‘I …’

  He cut her off again. ‘And your mum. What’s her name, while we’re at it?’

  He watched as Steph studied him and he allowed her time to process the implications of her potential answers.

  Finally, she spoke. ‘You’d better come in.’ She stood aside and opened the door wide. He stepped in, glad they wouldn’t have to continue the conversation in the corridor. She closed the door behind him and the small bedroom seemed to shrink even smaller.

  Harry glanced at her bed and saw her bag and phone. He also noticed some clothing. Steph’s eyes followed his gaze. ‘I was just about to get dressed,’ she said. It was only then Harry registered she was wearing a dressing gown and her hair was damp, presumably from the shower. She pulled the belt tighter around her body. ‘At least let me get some clothes on if this is the hostile visit I sense it to be.’

  Steph snatched at her clothes and went into the en suite. She reappeared a minute later in jeans and T-shirt, her hair tousled from the towel. She picked up a hairbrush and ran it through her hair – all the time watching him. Harry said nothing.

  ‘Do you want to sit?’ She indicated the spare bed.

  Harry gave himself a mental shove, refocusing on his reason for being there. ‘Your friend?’ he reminded her, declining to sit.

  Steph turned and placed the hairbrush on the dressing table. She paused for a moment before turning back to look at him. Harry’s patience was wearing thin but at the same time his initial spike of anger was subsiding. He hated to feel so angry; it reminded him of both Dominic and their father.

  ‘My friend,’ began Steph, ‘was Sonia Lomas, but you know that already, right?’

  ‘Right,’ said Harry. ‘Your mother?’

  ‘Again, I suspect you know she is Wendy Lynch or, as you probably know her better, DCI Lynch of CID, Cumbria Police.’

  ‘Right again,’ said Harry. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

  She had the decency to look embarrassed. ‘I didn’t want to blur any lines.’

  ‘Blur lines? What the hell do you mean? Let’s do this one thing at a time. What’s the deal with Sonia Lomas?’

  ‘I can’t discuss it,’ she said.

  ‘What? Of course you can!’

  ‘Harry, before I say anything else, I want you to know that my feelings for you are genuine. I don’t know how you feel about me, whether you really like me or if you’re just trying to find out about me, I don’t know.’

  ‘You’ve got a bloody cheek,’ snapped Harry. ‘It’s me who should be asking you if you’re genuine, but how can I actually believe anything you say when you’ve already lied to me?’

  ‘I have not lied to you,’ she snapped back. ‘I avoided answering your questions for that very reason, because I didn’t want to lie to you.’

  ‘That’s very noble of you.’ Harry slow handclapped. ‘I’m supposed to be thankful, am I?’ He took a step closer to her. ‘You may not have lied, but you’ve not told the whole truth and you’ve purposely deceived me. In my book, that’s just as bad.’

  ‘OK, I didn’t want to tell you about my mother because of everything that was associated with her. If I told you I only found out myself last week that she was involved with the case, you probably wouldn’t believe me.’

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me earlier when you had the chance?’

  Steph looked away, bu
t not before he caught a glimpse of a tear in her eye. He wanted to pull her into his arms and tell her it didn’t matter, but the truth was, it did matter. It changed everything.

  ‘I was avoiding telling you,’ she said quietly. ‘I knew I should, but I didn’t want it to affect things between us. That’s the same reason I didn’t tell you about Sonia Lomas either.’

  ‘I want to believe that, Steph, I really do. But I’m having a hard time doing so. Look at it from my point of view: you came here already friends with Sonia and your mother was the investigating officer into Elizabeth’s death. And you’re a journalist – what am I supposed to think?’

  ‘I’m not actually a journalist,’ said Steph. ‘I’m a travel writer and a photographer.’

  ‘You’re just splitting hairs. And you’re not denying it.’

  ‘It’s not looking very good for me, I know,’ said Steph. ‘But believe me, you and me, it’s genuine and separate to everything else.’

  ‘You may be able to separate the two, but I don’t think I can.’ He wanted to pace the room, but there wasn’t enough space. ‘How come you and Sonia were in the car together?’

  ‘She wanted to talk to me.’

  ‘About Elizabeth?’ he asked, knowing it was the only possible answer. ‘Just answer me, please.’ He was giving her the chance to tell the truth, to be honest with him, but she was refusing his offer. What was wrong with her? He tried a different tack, hoping to throw her thoughts off-balance. ‘Did you let things happen between us to get more information about Elizabeth’s death so you could write a story with the help of Sonia?’

  Well, that certainly caused a reaction. Her eyes blazed with anger.

  ‘Did you want to sleep with me to find out what I was doing here?’ she countered.

  The remark hurt him, his reaction taking him by surprise. They stood their ground, staring at each other. Harry gave way first. ‘No,’ he said. ‘No, I didn’t.’

  ‘I didn’t either,’ she replied.

  He was relieved to hear her say that and, judging by the look on her face, she was equally relieved at his response. ‘I’m glad you said that.’ He wanted to stroke her face, to push her hair from her eyes, but he forced himself not to, and instead he made sure his voice was softer when he spoke. ‘Steph, please, tell me what’s going on? I can’t just ignore it.’

  The tears were back in her eyes and she blinked hard. Then, taking a deep breath, she straightened up and he saw the softness in her features tighten. ‘Do you have any doubt about what happened to your wife? Do you know one hundred per cent it was an accident?’

  Harry resisted the urge to yell indignantly at her. He couldn’t remember anyone other than Sonia asking him such a direct question. It was like being punched in the stomach. ‘No one knows for certain what happened at the lake but it was thoroughly investigated, by your mother, and there was nothing to suggest it was anything other than an accident.’

  ‘So you can’t be certain it was an accident? That’s all I’m saying.’

  ‘Why would anyone want to kill Elizabeth?’

  ‘Divorce is expensive, you said that yourself.’

  ‘Wait a minute … do you really think …? Fucking hell, Steph. I thought we’d been through this.’ He pushed his clenched fist against his head in frustration. ‘I thought you got that it wasn’t about the money. It’s not enough to make me want to murder my own wife.’ He blanched at his own words, which sounded so harsh when he spoke them out loud. ‘Money is not my stimulator, which is why I’m usually living in France with none of the Sinclair trimmings.’ He moved a little closer to her. This time he did stroke her face. ‘You don’t have to be scared of me, Steph. If I didn’t already care about you after just a few days, I wouldn’t be here trying to convince you I’m not the bad guy and I have nothing to hide.’

  ‘I believe you but I’m sorry, I still can’t break client confidentiality.’ She took his hand from her face but held on to it. ‘Look, I just need a few days to finish what I’m doing. Maybe after I’m finished, we can see each other again – I mean, as in have some sort of relationship – but in the meantime we should perhaps put it on hold.’

  He gave a snort of disbelief and snatched his hand away. ‘Is that your idea of a trade-off? I honestly don’t know what to say to that. I don’t think keeping secrets about something like this is a good basis for a relationship. And we’re going round in circles here. So no, that doesn’t work for me.’ He could feel his anger coming back. He needed to be away from Steph. He didn’t want her to witness his fury. ‘Look, you can keep the job for the week but I’ll be watching you. You stay out of my business, do you hear?’

  She looked startled, nodded and went to speak.

  Harry held up his hand. ‘Don’t say anything.’ He was only just managing to keep his anger at bay. He needed to get out of there. He turned and within a couple of strides was at the door. ‘You need to tread carefully. Not everyone is as concerned about your wellbeing as I am.’

  Harry stormed his way down the two flights of stairs and across the hall into the family’s private living room. He was pleased to see it was empty – his mother was probably having supper over at Owen’s, as she usually did on a Sunday evening. Harry went over to the decanter on the stand, poured himself two fingers of whisky and drank it down neat. He gave a small gasping noise of satisfaction as he placed the empty glass on the tray and poured another. This one he took more time to savour as he went to stand at the patio doors overlooking the gardens.

  He couldn’t get his head around Steph or why he felt so drawn to her. She was clearly up to something with Sonia and it was obviously concerning Elizabeth’s death. On reflection, he probably shouldn’t have flown off the handle the way he had as there was no way she was going to tell him anything now. He should have taken it easy and kept her on side, then he might have been able to draw her into his confidence, so much so that she would willingly share what she was doing and what she knew. At least that way he could keep Dominic at bay. Damn it! He hadn’t handled it at all well.

  Maybe he should apologise and try to smooth things over. He finished his drink, enjoying the small burn of alcohol as it travelled down his throat and into his stomach. He needed to think this through and work out a strategy.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Conmere, Monday, 13 May, 7.30 a.m.

  Steph felt self-conscious going into the housekeeping room that morning wearing her Conmere cleaning uniform, which Heidi had just given her to change into. The uniform consisted of a bottle-green shirt and matching trousers, the Conmere logo of a lake and a tree embroidered in cream on the breast pocket.

  ‘Look at you,’ said Heidi, not unkindly. ‘One of the staff now. Right, if you come with me, I’ll take you on a quick tour of the house and tell you where you’ll be working today and what you have to do.’

  Steph spent the next hour going through the formalities with Heidi and learning the layout of the main house. A lot she was already familiar with, but when Heidi took her up to the first floor she had to hide her excitement as she was shown Elizabeth Sinclair’s room.

  ‘When I say it’s Elizabeth’s room, what I mean is, it’s where all her things are kept,’ explained Heidi, her hand wrapped around the door handle.

  ‘What sort of things?’ asked Steph.

  ‘Some personal possessions that Harry didn’t really know what to do with at the time.’ Heidi had lowered her voice. ‘Things that Mrs Sinclair Senior had sifted through and things that Mrs Lomas – that’s Elizabeth’s mother – wasn’t offered.’

  ‘Oh, I see,’ said Steph, trying to hide her impatience as she willed Heidi to open the door.

  ‘We don’t go in here, though,’ said Heidi. ‘But you can have a quick peek in.’ She opened the door and, remaining in the doorway, allowed Steph to poke her head into the room.

  There was a double bed covered with a cream-coloured eiderdown, a wardrobe and a chest of drawers. The curtains, which were drawn, were a heavy, pale blue j
acquard, shutting out the light from the window. A door to the side of the bed was slightly ajar and Steph could see through to the bathroom. There was a slight musty smell to the room but it was the heavy stillness which felt the most overpowering.

  ‘Does anyone ever come in here?’ she asked.

  ‘Once a week to dust and open the curtains and windows for a while to let a bit of fresh air in.’

  ‘Was it Elizabeth’s private room?’

  ‘She and Harry stayed in here while the lodge was being refurbished just before their wedding.’ Heidi put her arm past Steph to reach for the door handle and Steph moved back into the hallway. ‘I think Mrs Sinclair Senior would like to open up the room again, but Harry’s never been about long enough to go through the rest of the things. Can’t say I blame him, really.’

  ‘When is the room next due for a clean?’ Steph tried to sound casual.

  ‘Friday. The rooms up here on the first floor are for guests who don’t necessarily need a lodge and just want a room. More for those who are here on business or for the spa facilities.’ They reached the foot of the stairs. ‘Right, that’s all the formalities done. I’ll take you over to Greenway Lodges and pair you up with Eva – she’s been with us a couple of years now and will look after you. I’ll probably leave you with her for most of the week.’

  Steph spent the rest of the morning cleaning, bed-stripping and bed-making, cushion-plumping and fridge-stocking. She was surprised at how fast the next few hours went and that they had finished the lodges and were now back at the main house, signing out for the day.

  ‘Well done, Steph,’ said Heidi. ‘Eva tells me you did well today. See you in the morning.’

  As Steph made her way up to her room, she couldn’t help thinking about Elizabeth’s room. She’d love to get in there for a closer look around and wondered if there would be the opportunity to slip in at some point that week. She wasn’t sure what she would be looking for and what, if anything, she’d find, but it was too good an opportunity to pass up.

  Primrose Close, Kendalton,

 

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