Somehow, this compliment made me blush more than anything he’d said about my detective skills.
“And, Ramu… Well, I’m sorry to say, but I don’t think you’re cut out for cleaning.”
“Thanks very much, Uncle,” he sincerely replied. “I’ll take the head barman job instead.”
After dinner, it didn’t take much persuading to get Mum up on the stage for another rendition of the song that Ramesh had written for her. In fact he joined in for the chorus. His delivery of the line “I’m one hell of a woman,” was almost as convincing as Mum’s. He was finally allowed to sleep in a suite of his own that night, and I made sure that Danny understood his place was on one of the sofas.
Leaving The Cova Negra meant facing up to another sad reality. David’s parents had been texting me updates since I’d called them and they predicted it would only be a few days before the verdict was announced. Now that my investigation was over, there was little else to think about and my troubles once more invaded my mind.
I was sad to be leaving our beautiful home for the week, but London was calling to me and I knew it was time to go back.
“Mother, why didn’t you buy return flights like a normal person?” I asked as the four of us attempted to squeeze into Ramesh’s car the next morning.
“They were far too expensive, darling. And Ramesh said that it wouldn’t be a problem.”
Our driver grinned guiltily over the roof of the car. “Sorry, Iz! I thought you wouldn’t mind.”
After Danny and I had repacked the car three times, ditched several piles from Ramesh’s magazine collection and Mum’s gigantic seashell and pebble haul, we just about squeezed inside.
“It was so great having you all here,” Kabir told us through the window. “And thank you again, Izzy. I don’t know what I’d have done if you hadn’t solved the case.”
Ramesh was all smiles. “No, Uncle. Thank you.”
“Ah, before you go, Ramu. I have something for you.” The kindly hotelier took a plain white envelope from his pocket.
“Oh, Uncle. You shouldn’t have.” I thought my friend was going to get teary as he opened it.
“It’s the minibar bill.”
All trace of joy had left Ramesh’s face and he was staring in horror at the sheet of paper. “But, Uncle, this is more than the cost of the rooms.”
“You should have been more careful.” The hotelier’s voice was sober and stern. “Those things are very expensive. I would let you off, but I think it’s better that you learn your lesson so that it doesn’t happen again.”
Shocked into silence, Ramesh wound up his window and we rolled off down the drive.
Kabir quickly dashed after us and banged on the roof. He opened the driver’s door and pulled the envelope from the dashboard. “I got you there, my boy!” He tore the bill up and threw the pieces into the air so they rained down like confetti. “Never forget that ‘An Uncle and nephew reunion…”
“...is only…’” Ramesh didn’t manage to get the line of the song out as he had burst into tears of joy and jumped from the car to give Kabir one last hug.
When we left for the second time, Kiki and Elton both settled on Danny’s lap, where they slept for most of the long journey home. Even Mum joining in with an extended version of “Bonjour Croissant Fromage” didn’t wake them up.
And when we got back to Britain, the sky looked greyer than I could ever remember. Frost-covered England appeared to have skipped autumn and gone straight to winter and the Spanish sunshine already felt like an impossible dream.
Two days later, I was back in a black skirt and white blouse, waiting outside the Old Bailey for my support crew. Along with David’s parents, aunt and niece, I’d asked Dean to go with me as he’d got alarmingly good at moral support over the last couple of months. It was no joyful reunion. David’s relatives were bleak and forlorn. The trial had not gone well and they could only foresee one outcome.
Inside court that day, my only relief was that I would not have to take the stand again myself. David was brought out by the clerk and the judge asked the jury whether they’d reached a verdict. I’ll spare you all the formalities, the slow ratcheting up of tension like they do on TV talent shows before they announce the winner. In fact, I’ll cut straight to…
“Guilty.”
My boyfriend looked over at me and my whole body exploded with sorrow. I’d never seen a person look so sad in all my life. For the sake of my sanity, I tried to remember that he really had killed somebody and it only made sense that the jury considered him a murderer, but it didn’t make me feel any better. The judge delivered his final comment and I didn’t hear one word of it.
As they led him away, his eyes remained on mine until the very last second. His mum and dad cried and Auntie Val tried to cheer us all up but there was nothing that the friendly old woman could say to make it better. The nicest man I’d ever met was on his way to serve a lengthy sentence and I couldn’t help thinking that it wasn’t a question of right or wrong but which of the two lawyers had schmoozed the jury most successfully.
On the day he received his sentence, David asked that not even his family were in attendance. He rang me that afternoon from prison and I knew from the first word that it wasn’t good news.
“Hi Izzy.” His voice was entirely emotionless. He was a poorly programmed robot. “I wanted you to hear it from me.” That was as far as he got before I started crying. “Hey, it’s not so bad. Ten years, isn’t a lifetime at least.”
His words made the tears come faster. “Ten whole years of your life? How is that fair, David? How is that right after everything Bob did?”
I don’t know if it was for his sake or mine, but he managed to put on a cheerful voice. “Oh, come on now. We can’t have murderers walking free across our fair nation. It’s my own fault for killing the man.” He made it sound like it was a silly mistake, like losing his keys or breaking the screen on his phone. “I think it’s probably for the best.”
My nose was feeling left out so it started to run. “How can it be for the best?” Even my voice sounded snotty and wet. “The lesson of every revenge thriller, and at least one Christie novel is that, by ridding the world of rapists and murderers, people like you are acting for the greater good. I can’t just sit around waiting for you for a decade.”
There was a momentary hush, like the phone signal had died and when he spoke again he was calm and confident. “That’s right, my love.”
Some part of me must have already understood his meaning because I suddenly got louder, angrier and more determined. “That’s not what I meant. I’ll wait for you, you know I will.”
I closed my eyes and pictured him standing there on the phone just like in any prison movie. Grim-faced crims in tracksuits walked past behind him and he sheltered within the cabin of the telephone to speak to me. “No you won’t, Izzy. I wouldn’t do that to you.”
“David…” The tears burst out of me again. I was a toddler having a full-on tantrum by this point. “You don’t mean that. You don’t. I love you and I know you love me.”
He had to be crying, but he didn’t let it show. “Of course I do and I always will. Which is why I’m doing this.” The slower and more compassionately he spoke, the more his accent emerged. I don’t think I’d ever loved anyone as much as I did in that moment. My true and unwavering adoration was a firework that was about to explode.
“Please, David. Please don’t do this.” I doubt he understood a word I was saying by this point.
He cleared his throat and was serious and controlled once more. “This is for your own good, Izzy. You won’t see me again. If you try to visit, I’ll turn down the request. It might sound cruel, but in the long term, it’s the right thing to do.”
“It’s not fair. Just take your time to think about it.”
“I’ve been thinking for months. This is the way it
has to be.”
“No, David.” My phone was soaking wet by now, my hands shaking. “You’re wrong. It doesn’t have to be like this.”
Ten seconds passed – one for every year of his sentence – before he spoke again. “I’m sorry, my angel. I’m sorry for everything. I hope you can forgive me.”
The phone went dead and I let out a scream they must have heard up in London. I fell on my bedroom floor and lay there as my body jerked with every sob and tear. It would be days before I felt human again, a week before I re-engaged with the world and a month before I was sure what I wanted to do next.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Dean was the one who found me the office. I rented it from a friend of his who apparently didn’t like money as he charged me about one fifth of normal London prices. I couldn’t have imagined a better location. Right on Leicester Square, overlooking the cinemas that I’d visited so often as an artsy teenager with my only mate Simon.
Whenever there was a film premiere, I could sit at my new desk and look out the window to see Tom Cruise or Jennifer Lawrence or whoever was entertaining the crowds of tourists and artsy teenagers. The Empire Cinema was shining in all its glitzy glamour and, in the centre of the square, a funfair was being set up for the winter, covered in colourful lights.
Everyone was there for the big unveiling. Danny was standing beside me behind the desk, smiling enthusiastically as ever. He’d just got back from a trip to Eritrea and was acting like we hadn’t seen one another in decades. Ramesh was pouring champagne (well, Cava, but it’s the same thing, right?) as if to show off what a capable barman he was.
“What are we waiting for, Izzy?” Mum asked as I still hadn’t made the announcement fifteen minutes after everyone had arrived. She was annoyed because Greg already knew what I was going to say, but had been sworn to secrecy.
She’d brought her usual crew with her of course. Fernando and his wife had come along with the Dominski clan, Brian from the supermarket, several of our neighbours, a couple of Dean’s tech nerds and two of my fathers.
“Come on, Izzy,” Dad cheered me on. “We’re awfully excited.”
I stood by the window where one of Greg’s easels was positioned with a red velvet blanket over it that Mum had bought especially for the occasion.
“Fine, fine!” I tried to sound reluctant but it was a pretty poor performance. “So, most of you know what we’re doing here. Thanks to Dean …” I pointed over and he did a far too theatrical bow.
“It was nothing, everybody. It was nothing.” Every time I saw him, his transformation shocked me. He straightened back up and put his arm round his pretty red-haired girlfriend. With a little help from my dad, they’d met at a bar a few weeks earlier and seemed to be made for one another.
Anyway, back to me. “Yes, thanks to my kind friend, we are standing in my new office. Before I unveil the name and logo that Greg and I have been working on, I wanted to say a few words.”
Apparently Dean wasn’t the only one who’d grown more comfortable in front of an audience. “It’s been a very strange year. I’ve had my highs and lows but something wonderful has happened. I’ve gone from being a murder mystery fan to a full-time detective and that’s thanks to all of you here. Every single person in this room has helped investigate one of my cases and I wouldn’t be here today without you.”
“Get on with it, Izzy!” Mum was frantic with curiosity. I’m pretty sure she thought that I’d chosen her name after all.
“Oh, alright then. I’d like to ask my wonderful stepdad Greg to come forward to reveal his design for the logo of my brand new detective agency.”
There was some applause and, as modestly as he does everything, he came up to whisk the veil away. “Ladies and gentlemen…” Looking over at me, he waited for a few seconds to get the crowd worked up. “I give you… ‘The Private I Detective Agency’.”
Beneath the velvet covering was a large board with the name of my new business. For Mum’s sake, there were bullet holes in place of dots and the whole thing was in the shape of an eye. Initial reactions seemed positive. My assembled friends, loved ones and the random people my mum had picked up along the way all cheered.
“Oh, Izzy,” she began then had to stop as she was choking up with emotion. “Oh, Izzy. It’s wonderful, I’m so proud of you.”
It’s not often I see my mother lost for words, but this was such an occasion. Her voice faded out and she began to make some low squeaking noises of appreciation. Ramesh soon joined in with this quiet gushing and the two ended up with their arms around one another, reminiscing over stories from my past.
I decided to leave them to it and mingle. Mingling at a party is high on my list of least favourite things, but it’s not quite so bad when I know everyone there. I’d got halfway around the small, sparsely furnished room when Danny saw his opportunity and leapt towards me.
“Izzy, can I have a word?”
It had been more than six months since he’d declared his love for me and, considering just how much he had in common with a springer spaniel, he’d been waiting surprisingly patiently for the follow-up conversation.
As subtly as possible, I slipped out of the main office into the even more compact reception area. Once we were there, our disposable plastic champagne flutes in hand-
Despicable! Wasting the planet’s resources just to save you a bit of washing up. You should be ashamed of yourself.
Oh, do shut up! This isn’t the moment.
Once we were out there alone, neither of us quite knew what to say.
Tell me something. Have you ever been in one of those situations where you’ve been in love with a man your whole life only to finally give up on him after you find the kindest, most affectionate boyfriend imaginable, the news of which forces your childhood sweetheart to admit he’s in love with you too, except, by that point you’ve already pinned your heart to the new guy, who then turns out to be a murderer?
And if you have, did that second bloke get sent to prison for his really quite understandable crime and tell you that you shouldn’t wait for him, despite the fact you were crazy about one another? And if you’re still with me on this and the original crush wouldn’t give up on you, I’d really like to know, how long did you decide was an appropriate amount of time to wait before starting in on the new relationship?
“So, here we are,” Danny tried and I think we both realised how cheesy it sounded.
“Here we are,” I repeated in the hope it would smooth everything over. It didn’t. It really didn’t.
Kiss him, Izzy! Put your sexy lips on his sexy lips and smoosh them about.
As tempting as that sounded, I contained myself and waited for him to say something else.
“Maybe it’s too soon,” he finally came out with.
“Yeah, probably.”
There was a sudden burst of laughter from inside The Private I Detective Agency’s London headquarters. I heard shouts of “bath”, “pigeon” and “totally naked” and it was enough to reveal that Mum was telling stories about me from when I was little. The joy everyone was having in the next room only served to make our conversation more awkward.
“I mean…” I’d never seen Danny look so sweaty, though it was only about seven degrees outside. “David and you only just broke up and, after everything you’ve been through this year, it probably isn’t the time to be starting anything new.” I was pretty sure that the voice in his own head would have been furious with him right then.
“Totally. I mean…” It was my turn to get all nervous. “I mean, the timing really isn’t great and you’re going to be travelling again soon, so maybe…”
“Yeah.” He let out a relieved sigh. “Maybe it’s best if we just leave it for now and think about trying again next year sometime. I’m going to be busy and you’re just about to start this place up so that’s probably for the best.”
I nodded my head in a big over-the-top manner like I was talking to a small child or perhaps a Labrador. “Exactly. We should schedule it for next year sometime, that’s definitely the best option.”
With the decision made, we pretended to be happy about it and turned to head back into the party without another word. The space was so poky that I ended up smacking the door straight into him and we had to do this awkward shuffle around one another to be able to open it again by which time I’d come to my senses.
“Wait,” I said and closed the door again. “No. That’s not what I want.”
Go on, Izzy. Smoosh him!
“What I want is to spend time with one of my favourite people. What I want is to take things slowly and see where it might lead us, because, I have to be honest, I think about David just about every minute of the day, but I think about you too.”
The sad puppy expression had disappeared from Danny’s face to be replaced by his happy puppy one. “I understand that, Izzy, I honestly do.”
I filtered out the laughter and the clinking plastic glasses, I just about managed to ignore my mother’s loud voice saying “Izzy called it her ‘teeny weeny’!” I tried my absolute hardest not to think of my ex-boyfriend for a minute and focus on the lovely man standing in front of me.
“I want to go on a completely normal, no expectations whatsoever day out with you, Danny. Would that be okay?”
His smile grew three sizes bigger and I’m pretty sure he’d have leaned in to smoosh me right then if it hadn’t been for the outside door opening and a man who looked like a Victorian convict walking in.
“Sorry,” he said in a thick east-end accent. “I’m looking for Izzy Palmer.”
I cleared my throat to sound a bit professional. When that didn’t work I tried one more time then gave up. “I’m Izzy Palmer, of The Private I Detective Agency. How can I help you?”
A Corpse on the Beach Page 22