by Sue Fortin
‘Never one to beat about the bush,’ said Steph with a wry smile.
‘Is that a yes?’
‘No! No, it’s not.’
‘We can pay you. I’ve been given an open chequebook.’ He shrugged at Steph’s doubtful expression. ‘OK, not totally open, but we can pay.’
‘Honestly, Adam, it’s not about the money. I don’t want to sell my story.’ She looked away. She hadn’t consciously come to that decision until that very moment, but she suspected it had been there all the time. It would somehow feel disloyal to Harry. She didn’t want to cause him any more pain than he already had to deal with. Her integrity as a person far outweighed her ambition to make it in the world of journalism.
‘Oh, come on. As a favour to me. Say yes. I’m going to be fired on the spot if I don’t come back with a yes.’ Adam pushed his hands together in prayer.
‘Have you got the contract with you?’ Steph asked.
‘Of course!’ Adam produced the paperwork from his bag with a flourish worthy of a magician pulling a bunch of flowers from a top hat. He thumbed through to the final page and, together with a biro, thrust it into Steph’s hands. ‘Just sign there.’
Steph picked up the contract and, with equal flourish, tore the paperwork in half and then half again. ‘Sorry. Not sorry.’
‘Oh, man!’ groaned Adam.
‘Look, I’ve had all sorts of offers. But I can’t say anything, not until the case has been looked at again.’
‘I think that knock on your head must have knocked your senses out at the same time.’
‘Nope. Knocked some sense into me, I’d say.’ She looked ruefully at her ex-colleague. ‘And don’t think you’re going to get any information out of me either, so don’t bother even talking to me about it.’
Adam picked up the pieces of torn paper. ‘Oh, well, I tried.’
He stayed a little longer and Steph managed to keep the conversation off-topic, even though she knew Adam was itching to turn it around. Much as it was nice catching up with him, she was relieved when he finally left, the effort of being on her guard sapping her energy.
Steph rested her head back against the pillows and closed her eyes. She was exhausted and now the adrenalin had evaporated she was feeling the effects of her near-death experience. A wave of emotion surged and the desire to cry overwhelmed her. She snatched at a tissue from the box on the bedside cabinet and wiped her face. She had nearly drowned. Pru Sinclair had tried to kill her. The enormity of the events battered her, causing more tears to fall.
It was a moment or two before she became aware someone else was in the room. She was shocked to see Harry standing just inside the door. His face was drawn, his eyes puffy and red-rimmed. Steph swallowed hard and fought against her tears. She looked at Harry, who returned her gaze without saying a word.
It took a moment, but all at once, Steph understood.
‘Oh, no,’ she said, flinging the covers from her and slipping out of the bed. Her bare feet pitter-pattered across the cold, sterile floor. She reached him, went to put her arms around him and then stopped, conscious that she might have misread the situation or that he might not even want her to hold him.
A tear escaped from the corner of his eye and his shoulders slumped. Steph had no hesitation this time – she threw her arms around him, and even though he had to stoop, she held the back of his head as he rested his forehead on her shoulder.
‘She’s dead.’ Harry’s words were muffled.
‘I’m so sorry for you,’ said Steph. She wasn’t sure how she felt about it herself. The bloody woman had tried to kill her but she felt so much empathy for Harry. He was truly heartbroken at his loss.
She led him over to the bed and they perched side by side on the edge of the mattress. Steph put her arm around his shoulder and held his hand.
‘Her heart just wasn’t strong enough in the end,’ he said, after a while. He cleared his throat and sat up. ‘She was dying anyway. She had cancer. It had gone into her bones and vital organs. She only had a matter of months to live.’
‘Did you already know that?’
‘Only found out last week when I came home. Dominic told me.’ Harry looked up to the ceiling and blew out a long breath. Then he stood up. ‘I’m sorry, Steph. I shouldn’t have come. It was really insensitive of me.’
‘No, I’m glad you did.’ She reached for his hand again. ‘And I am genuinely sorry for your loss.’
‘You’re a better person than me. Jesus, Steph, I don’t know how you do it. She … she tried to … she tried to kill you.’ He looked away towards the window. ‘She killed Elizabeth.’
‘Try not to blur the lines,’ said Steph, standing next to him. ‘Grieve for your mother, allow yourself to do that, and keep any other thoughts about what she did separate.’
‘I don’t know if I can.’ He looked back at her. ‘I always knew I came from a rotten family and I blamed my dad for that, but it seems the rot ran deeper and came from more than one source.’
She rubbed his arm with her other hand, not knowing what else to say. It was something he had to work out for himself. ‘Don’t rush anything,’ she said in the end. ‘Take it a day at a time. Have you spoken to the police yet?’
‘Briefly. Someone from CID is coming to see me tomorrow.’
Steph nodded, as much to herself as to Harry – the wheels had already been set in motion. Soon she’d have to hand over the details of the SpyCloud and Harry would find out what his wife was really like. She couldn’t have him find out from the police. That would be too awful, too humiliating.
‘There’s something I need to tell you before you speak to the police,’ she began. ‘Elizabeth recorded a sort of video diary.’
‘I know. My mum had it but she destroyed it.’
‘It was automatically backed up to a cloud. I have the details. I accessed it,’ she said carefully. ‘She said she knew things about your family that could get her into trouble. She was scared.’
‘Fuck.’ He frowned. ‘What aren’t you telling me?’
‘In it, she admits to having an affair,’ said Steph with even more care. She saw Harry’s chest swell as he took in a deep breath and then it gradually deflated.
He ran his hand through his hair. ‘Is there anything else I should know?’
‘Maybe I should give you the details to access it,’ said Steph. She picked up the rucksack Wendy had brought back from Conmere and wrote out the details on a piece of paper from the notebook, before handing it to Harry.
‘Did she say anything about my mother on it?’ he asked, taking the paper and giving it a cursory look before folding it in half and tucking it into the pocket of his jeans.
‘Oh, no,’ said Steph, surprised at Harry’s question. ‘No, she didn’t. It was more about what Dominic was up to.’
‘The cocaine, right?’
‘Right.’
‘I swear to you, Steph, I wasn’t involved in that. I didn’t even know it was going on. I knew Owen had a problem, but I didn’t for one minute suspect Dominic was the supplier. God, what a tangled web of lies and deceit. What a fucked-up family I have.’
‘You’re not alone,’ said Steph. ‘It’s a long story but apparently my dad, the one who I adored and who was my superhero, turns out was a bit of a phoney on the superhero front. He drove for your dad.’
‘I do know that. Dominic told me the other day.’
‘Did you know Dominic told my mum to make sure the verdict on Elizabeth’s death was misadventure and if she didn’t something would happen to me?’
‘I can’t believe what I’m hearing.’
‘She did it to protect me. That’s why she shunned me. Not because she couldn’t bear the sight of me, but because she loved me and wanted me as far away as possible, somewhere Dominic couldn’t touch me.’
‘It’s like some sort of nightmare.’ Harry dragged his hands down his face. ‘I can’t believe I’m going to ask this, but … did your mum know the truth about what happened to E
lizabeth, that it was my mum?’ He almost choked on his words.
‘She never fully investigated,’ said Steph softly. ‘But that doesn’t mean she didn’t suspect something, and that in itself makes her guilty of not carrying out her duty as a police officer.’
‘Did my mum tell you what happened? Did she actually say she killed Elizabeth?’ Steph looked down at the floor. She couldn’t meet his gaze. It was just too painful. Harry swore under his breath. ‘She did, didn’t she? She told you because she thought it was safe to. She thought you weren’t going to live, so she told you the truth.’
Abruptly, Harry broke contact with Steph, and then took another step away, putting distance between them.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I need time to get my head round everything.’
‘Sure,’ said Steph. As much as she knew it was the best thing to do, her heart tugged in her chest. Something told her he was about to walk out of her life, probably for good.
‘I wish I hadn’t come, but I’m glad I did in some sort of perverse way. I needed to know the truth.’
‘I wish I could have told you something different.’
Harry rested his hand against the door jamb and patted it twice, as if trying to come to a decision. He turned back to her. ‘There’s something on that recording that you’re not telling me. What is it?’
Steph gulped. How could she tell him about Dominic? ‘I … I don’t think so.’
He appraised her before speaking again. ‘Was Elizabeth having an affair with Dominic?’
This time, Steph’s throat was too dry to gulp. She opened her mouth to speak, to deny it, because that was what he wanted to hear, but the words stuck in her throat. She tried again. ‘I don’t know,’ she managed to choke out.
‘You’re a crap liar,’ said Harry. He walked back to her and gently cupped the side of her face with his hand. ‘Take care, Steph.’
She looked at him, tears blurring her vision. She managed a nod and leaned her face into his palm. ‘You too.’
Chapter Forty-Two
Harry’s Lodge, Conmere, Wednesday, 5 July, 1.20 p.m
Harry looked at the letter in his hand. Had he known it was from Sonia Lomas before he’d opened it, he might have been tempted to throw it away without reading it. However, it was in his hand, a single sheet of white bond paper, her neat handwriting gracing the page.
Dear Harry
I hope you find it in yourself to read this letter for it is not sent with any kind of malice and I hope it is received in the way it’s intended. I know we haven’t been able to speak to one another for some time now and I feel this is the best way.
Firstly, I want to extend my condolences to you for the loss of your mother. This is said not because of how I feel about what Pru did, but to you as a man who was once my son-in-law and who as a son is grieving in the most difficult of circumstances.
I know deep down you are not a true Sinclair, not in your heart, and I take comfort from that. I know you loved Elizabeth once and that your feelings were genuine and that my daughter was probably not deserving of such love. She was a complex person and if it’s any comfort to you, I know she did love you too but for Elizabeth love was never enough. She always wanted more. Despite her gregarious nature, underneath it all, she was insecure and never had the courage to acknowledge her background or to be proud of her roots. She felt it was a weakness and she turned her back on it, believing she’d find fulfilment in material things and power. My only regret is that I wasn’t able to teach her to value herself and those who loved her more highly.
In a strange sort of way, I can understand how your mother felt. That’s not to say I understand how she reacted but I understand the love she had for Conmere and her family. I would go to the ends of the earth to protect my loved ones. Whatever the outcome of the new enquiry, I know I have made peace with myself and with my daughter. I have found strength from my faith, having returned to it in recent months, as I look towards some sort of forgiveness. I’m not there yet, but I’m making progress. And you must try to do the same. I hope you find a sense of peace and I hope you find love because that is the strongest gift a person can receive and give. That’s what makes us human and that’s what gives us purpose.
Take care and may God bless you.
Sonia
Harry’s eyes swam with tears. He wasn’t sure he deserved such humility from her. He reread the letter several more times and each time it touched his heart a little bit more.
Chapter Forty-Three
Kendalton, Thursday, 6 July, 11.33 a.m.
Steph folded the flap on the last packing box in Wendy’s house, taped it down, then marked it ‘Living Room’. She slid it over with the other boxes neatly stacked up in the corner.
‘That looks about done,’ she said, looking up as Ria came into the room.
‘Here, have a cup of tea.’ Ria placed the tray she was carrying down onto one of the boxes.
Steph picked up her cup and with a sigh looked around the room. ‘Strange to think my mum’s life amounts to half a dozen cardboard boxes. I know she’s not particularly sentimental, but this is all she wants to take with her.’
‘She’s moving to a small apartment. What do you expect?’
‘I hope she’s doing the right thing. Devon is such a long way away from everything she’s known for the past thirty years.’
Ria gave a sympathetic smile. ‘I’m sure your mum knows what she’s doing. Besides, it was where she was brought up. Maybe that’s the draw.’
‘Ignore me,’ said Steph, shaking her head. ‘I’m just being over-anxious. I need to stop worrying about her.’
The sound of the doorbell startled both women, who exchanged a look.
Steph went over to the bay window and moved the vertical blind a fraction. She let out a gasp and darted out of sight, pinning her back to the wall.
‘What’s wrong?’ Ria crossed the room.
‘It’s … it’s Harry.’
Ria nearly spat her tea out but managed to swallow it without choking. ‘Harry Sinclair?’
‘Yes!’
‘What’s he doing here?’
Steph steadied her nerves. She hadn’t spoken to or heard from him since the day at the hospital. She genuinely believed he had walked out of her life. The doorbell rang out again, this time with a more insistent buzz, followed by a rap of knuckles on the glass. ‘I’d better see what he wants,’ said Steph, reluctantly pushing herself from the wall. She smoothed her hair with her hands and brushed herself down.
‘You look fine,’ said Ria with a smile. ‘I’ll make myself scarce upstairs. I’ll clean the bathroom. Just shout if you need me.’
Steph went to open the door as Ria disappeared. She felt rather more apprehensive than she had imagined she would. She couldn’t think for the life of her what Harry was doing here. Maybe he wanted Wendy for some reason. Yes, that must be it. She opened the door but there was no look of surprise or shock on his face.
‘Hello, Steph,’ he said. ‘Sorry to doorstep you like this, but I thought if I asked you to meet me, you might say no.’
‘I might have done,’ she said, although Steph knew in her heart of hearts, she wouldn’t have. ‘Do you want to come in? Ria is here, but she’s busy upstairs.’
‘Actually, I’m just popping out to the shop,’ said Ria, coming down the stairs. She picked up her handbag and, giving Harry a smile, she went on her way.
‘Do you want a coffee? I haven’t packed the kettle yet.’ He didn’t answer as he stood in the middle of the room looking very uncomfortable. ‘Are you OK?’ she asked gently.
‘It was Mum’s funeral last month.’
‘Yes, I know.’ Steph found herself going to comfort him, but stopped herself at the last moment, instead rubbing his upper arm with her hand. ‘I would say sit down and I’ll pour you a stiff drink, but as you can see, we’re down to sitting on the floor or packing boxes.’
‘How have you been?’ he asked with a tenderness that reminded h
er of their time at the lodge. She found herself yearning for those moments again.
‘Getting by,’ she said. ‘You?’
‘Much the same.’
They both went to speak at the same time and stopped abruptly. ‘You first,’ said Steph.
‘I was just going to say that we’ve decided to sell Conmere.’
‘Sell it? Wow. I didn’t think you’d do that.’
‘I want out whatever. Owen wants to run his own stables and riding school. He’s talking of moving to Norfolk. That’s where Natalie’s parents are. He wants a clean break. To start again without any baggage. Personally, I think he wants to get as far away from Dominic as possible. He’s been in rehab the last four weeks.’
‘I hope it works out for him. And Dominic?’ By rights, he should have been locked up for drug dealing but by the time the police had searched the resort and the boathouse, there had been no evidence to find.
‘He’s talking about going into business with his friend, property developing.’
‘And you?’ she asked tentatively.
‘I know about Elizabeth and Dominic,’ said Harry, not answering her question.
She couldn’t meet his gaze and looked down at her feet. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘Don’t worry about it. It wasn’t a complete surprise, if I’m honest. I was already suspicious of Elizabeth, and as for Dominic, he always wanted to spoil what I had. Goes way back to when we were kids. I thought he was over it as an adult, but clearly I was wrong.’
‘You sound very magnanimous about it all.’
‘I might do now. It’s amazing how dropping your brother with one punch to the jaw can work wonders for your anger.’
‘You didn’t?’
‘Yep. Afraid so.’
‘He deserved it. And more.’ This time she did meet his gaze. ‘Wish I’d been there to see it.’ They exchanged a smile.
‘How is your mum?’ asked Harry, shifting the conversation on. ‘I hear she’s moved away. Devon?’
‘That’s right. She’s already in her new apartment. I take it the police told you that they had reviewed the original investigation?’