by Karen Botha
‘It’s a bit big, I’ll have to be careful with it,’ I twist it around, admiring the coloured fractures of light.
‘You can get it altered if you like, even change the design.’ He leans over to touch it.
‘OK. That might be nice…’ I mentally create designs that will display this awesome diamond on my delicate finger and I raise my left hand to get a clear angle.
‘I’ll use the same gold though, so it’s the same ring but designed for me. I love that you’ve given me something so special to your family, thank you for trusting me with it.’
‘Ah, that’s OK, Penelope has one too, so it’s only fair.’
I snuffle down the desire to ask if Steph also had one, but I’ll leave that for later. Now is not the time for bringing her up. I contemplate if there will ever be a time where she doesn't intrude into our life without warning.
Our waiter interrupts us. ‘Please accept this with our very best compliments.’ He makes a lavish gesture with one arm towards the ice bucket filled with the promising bottle top of something sparkling.
‘Ooh…’ we both say in unison and laugh at our co-ordination. I don’t realise until later when I re-play tonight, that this used to be the signature of Paula, and I.
‘Thank you,’ we both continue to chime and instinctively, reach out to grasp the other’s hand tightly across the table.
‘I love that sound, don’t you?’ The bubbles flow out of the champagne bottle, exploding against the edge of the glass as he pours.
‘I do today,’ his warm palm squeezes mine more firmly. We chink our glasses, ‘to us…’
I finish his sentence, ‘…and our long future together.’
As with all moments of excitement, almost immediately, I’m hit by the need to go to the loo. I make my apologies and grab my phone, heading off in the direction of the marked door I clocked when we were shown to our table. I breathe a sigh of relief as the pressure releases and automatically start to text Paula all about our exciting development. I stop. She won’t be pleased. She won’t think this is good news. She won’t want me to marry Giles. I don’t want her to ruin tonight so instead, I stare at the black screen, a sober moment, my heart heavy at times changed.
Whilst washing my hands, I glimpse myself in the tall mirror that stretches horizontally across the communal white marble. It’s a catastrophe. My entire jugular system sinks into the floor. My eye makeup is everywhere from all the tears. Not only is my skin pink and blotchy, it’s streaked in black. Why didn’t he tell me? I struggle to run one of the automatic taps long enough to get sufficient water to wash my face clean. The narrow basin doesn’t allow me the depth to reach over and splash my face without catching the rest of my outfit. Luckily I’m able to at least dry myself with quality paper towels removing most of the remaining smudges. The way this night is going, I should expect to leave this bathroom with cheap bits of toilet paper stuck to a cheek.
Make-up free and clothes covered in splashes, I head back to our table.
‘So what kind of ceremony would you like?’ Giles asks as I straighten my skirt against the seat.
A cheesy grin rips across my cheeks, ‘Give me a chance, I didn’t even know I was getting married until about five minutes ago.’
‘But don’t all girls grow up planning their wedding?’ His eyes dart, his head rapidly shifts position.
He has a point. ‘When I was a young girl, I would draw my perfect dress on any piece of scrap paper I could get my hands on.’
‘See!’ He’s validated.
‘Yes, but that is quite some years back now and if I were to come prancing down the aisle in the puffball skirt with matching sleeves, you’d jilt me there and then.’ I roll my eyes at my lack of childhood fashion sense.
He’s staring at me eyes dark pools, ‘I’d never jilt you, whatever dress you wear, how you looked when I proposed being a prime example,’ he adds as my internals knot in embarrassment.
‘I see you sorted that out on your toilet trip.’
I cringe, my innards crawling. I was hoping he hadn’t spotted this in the dim evening light.
‘Clearly I can get away with murder,’ I laugh, then hope he doesn't notice my faux pas. He messes with his napkin on his knee, glancing up and grinning.
I rush to change the subject, ‘So, what kind of wedding would you like?’
‘Something quick.’
‘Oh wow, why, am I pregnant?’
‘Haha, it's OK if you are, but I don’t want to waste a minute with you, that’s all. Life is too short to miss moments because of a duty to convention.’
This conversation got quite serious suddenly and I stare at him, taking in the hurt he is pushing aside in favour of his future. ‘I’ll marry you quickly.’
We spend the rest of the dinner talking about options for our shotgun nuptials. We have no savings and my recent spell of not working has not helped our financial stability. If we wed fast, it will also need to be low cost. Running away isn’t an option as I want my family there, so we resolve on a small wedding in a cheap venue - like it was back in the day. I am actually quite excited by the idea, it is about being joined to this special man, not the showmanship that goes with it. I’ll call my Dad in the morning and see if he has any ideas for places local to him - once I’ve told him I am to become the wife of a chap he hasn’t yet met, that is.
PAULA
‘Why am I here?’ Penelope shrugs, taking in the sparse interview room.
Mo explains, we just have a few questions to tie up lose ends that turned up during a periodic clean-up of old cases.
She’s not buying it. She sits, arms crossed firmly across her bosom. Her distaste is tangible from her frowning brow. One sliver of an eye is barely visible whilst she struggles to fathom her piece in the puzzle. Her simple reply belies any of this.
‘OK.’ Her tone is boardroom practiced; unaffected.
‘So, let’s start at the beginning shall we?’ Mo asks in a way he has which isn’t really asking at all.
‘OK. They met when they were studying and pretty much fell in love straight away. Giles was in awe of her ability to hold a room and if I’m honest was probably flattered that she showed him some interest.’
‘Yeah, I can understand how a guy could get like that about a charming woman,’ Mo smiles in encouragement.
This is not the right move. She tenses involuntarily, getting taller in her seat and stares at Mo for the briefest moment. ‘Poor Hugh, always seemed to be on the sideline from there on in - Hugh was Giles’ best friend, you know him don’t you?’
‘What do you mean always on the sideline?’
‘Well, the three of them were knocking around at that time, but obviously two out of the three were busy falling in love…’
‘So your opinion is that Hugh had jealousy issues?’
‘Oh absolutely, he doted on Steph. You should have seen him at the funeral, totally distraught. She had a proper burial, and he was filling the grave with soil whilst all the mourners started to filter off. Even Giles wasn’t as upset as poor Hugh.’ She pulls at her ear, ‘I felt for Jennifer, she endured Hugh’s swooning after Steph with dignity. They met when Hugh was quite young, so she’d been around Steph for years, but still, that funeral was something else.’
‘What do you mean, did something else happen?’
‘Well, nothing much, one of those you have to be there to believe it type of things.’
Generally when a revelation is pre-empted like this prior to ploughing into an accusation, you can bet they're making the story up for their own purposes - or are passing on gossip. Neither is great.
‘Julie attended, their lodger, Steph and Giles’ lodger I mean, but she was really strange.’ Penelope brushes an imaginary hair from her eyebrow. ‘To be fair, by the end, Steph did little other than sleep, she wasn’t even up for playing board games anymore, so Julie and Giles were pushed towards each other. They lived in the same house for goodness sake, so they must have spent hours alone. I pre
sume that breeds a certain level of closeness and I'm sure they confided in each other. But, even so... weird.’
‘In what way?’ Mo probes.
‘Like she had taken on the role of his wife. She handed him tissues at the grave, rubbed his back to soothe him, even guided him down the church aisle. You know the kind of thing where something doesn’t fit properly. It jars?’ Mo nods his understanding, and she continues, satisfied.
‘It wasn’t until later when I played the day back, that I realised how cold Giles was towards her. He was distant, not acknowledging this woman who was clearly under the impression they were close. But, like I say, being a funeral... people behave oddly at the best of times, so... well… it’s a strange situation. I mean, to be fair, she was super chatty with Wyndham at the wake so you can read anything into anything if you choose. Must make your job particularly difficult,’ she reflects almost to herself raising her right eye in imagined conspiracy.
‘And what about your relationship with Steph, I’ve heard on the grapevine you suspected she was into more men than Giles. What gave you that impression?’ Mo pushes her.
‘Well, I can’t be certain, but, yes, she did give that impression.’
Mo ignores the implied collusion once again. ‘So, what gave you that impression?’
‘Ah, well. Some women dress like tarts in short skirts and low tops. Steph wasn't that obvious. She’d be more inclined to be one of the boys - join in with their jokes. Then she'd be more sexy than required to get her own way if she floundered.’
‘Give me an example,’ Mo interrupts.
She stops, searching memories, eyes rising left in recollection of an incident she can recount.
‘Ah let me think... we went camping years ago, before any of us had any money. We needed water as you do. It was her turn to go. Instead of doing that though, she sashayed up to Wyndham and put on a small childlike voice. I kid you not, she flicked her hair and grumbled about the weight of water and how far she had to walk on her own. Complained about being scared of getting lost, all that vulnerable shit, and before I know it, Wyndham is going with her to make sure she’s OK. Not Giles of course, he had his book out. But, guess who was carrying that water butt on their return trip!’
Mo couldn’t prevent his smile radiating, ‘Wyndham by any chance?’ his tone is wry.
She nodded, keeping her lips pursed tight but pulling the corners upwards.
‘I wouldn’t mind, but it was only from a standpipe at the top of the field. Nowhere to get lost. This woman chose to run into burning buildings for a living, I’m sure she could have managed the water butt if she’d wanted. Mind you, that doesn’t make her a cheater, I’m using that example to demonstrate exactly how manipulative she was with all men. She had them twisted around her little finger while Giles remained in the background.’
When Mo has enough information, he releases Penelope on the proviso she’ll come back in, if required. I watch her on the video screen hastily gather her things and head out without stopping to put on her jacket. Mo slings the door to the surveillance room open, smashing the wall.
‘These videos are more clear than the old double sided mirrors used to be. They’re great.’
He ignores me, preoccupied. ‘I’m off to meet Hugh, you want to tag along?’
‘Why not! He doesn’t know me from Adam, so no need to keep out of sight for this one, let’s do it.’
PAULA
‘Yes, I loved Steph,’ Hugh confesses easily, ‘but as a sister, nothing more. We’d been friends for so long, boundaries are drawn.’
‘Did you ever feel any differently about her, like when you first met for instance?’ I’m keen to get involved now I have the opportunity.
‘Sure, Steph was a beautiful woman, but then I met Jennifer and things changed. Our lives became disparate.’
‘Oh really, how so?’
‘Well, Giles and Steph lived an active lifestyle, into the outdoors, off-the-cuff weekends away. That sort of thing. Jen and I had our kids young, so we were tied down with contrasting priorities.’
‘I understand how that happens. But when Steph got ill, did you and Giles get close again? I’m assuming that his behaviour became less outgoing at that point?’
‘Yeah, I’d go round to his house and sit with them as often as I could, but my life is dominated by the needs of my kids.’ He drifts off, we let the silence hang. Coming back to us, he admits softly, ‘To be truthful, I didn't like seeing Steph - like that.’
‘What do you mean?’ Mo snatches the question from my lips.
‘Well, she was a shadow of her former self, as if someone had turned the light out. We lost common ground. She didn’t do the activities she used to chat about anymore so conversations were one sided.’ He throws his head back against his shoulders, ‘She kind of lost her free spirit. When Julie moved in, Giles forgot about her. It sounds horrible, but I can see how it happened. How they could drift apart…’
‘In what way did he forget about Steph?’ I ask.
‘Well, him and Julie got quite close. They’d do the things that couples do, watch TV, make their meals.’
I fidget, agitation making my limbs uncomfortable. So, they cooked together - wow. I do like to hear the same story from several sources, it engenders credibility, but this isn't moving our investigation forward.
Hugh continues, ‘They’d also go out from time to time. I’m not knocking it, like I said, I understand, but I also felt for poor Steph. There were periods when she went through her thing alone. She had hours of real loneliness.’
‘How do you know this?’ Mo asks.
‘Well, she did speak with me. Never anything specific, but just about her struggles. She accepted that Giles needed a life aswell as being her carer. But it was hard for her being excluded, whatever the reason. She would have previously been the one running the show, she was a great social organiser. Things like simple pub quizzes become way more appealing when they are off limits… she did feel left out.’
‘Were Julie and Giles in a relationship?’ I hold my breath.
‘Not from his point of view, I think he was happy for company. Between you and me, she was bat shit crazy. Came across as being an ordinary girl next door type, not a patch on Steph looks-wise, but when Steph died she did expect Giles to move on with her. Took it hard when he didn't’
He elaborates when we let the hollow silence hang, ‘She assumed with Steph out of the way that the road would be clear for them to start their future.’
It seems we need to find out a little more about Julie. Mo and I exchange a glance, silently agreeing our next course of action.
‘Oh, whilst we have you, how did Steph and Jennifer get on?’
He snaps a look up, ‘Not well, Steph didn’t really click with women. She was always polite and courteous with her, but if Jen never saw her again, that would have been fine.’
PAULA
I’m relegated to the surveillance room again for Julie’s interview. I have the file notes spread out in front of me, ready to feed Mo information and questions. I’m concentrating on making sure I'm able to locate each paper quickly. I sip my luke-warm coffee, not really tasting it. We’ve collated more intelligence here than I’d realised. A combination of what I've learnt of her personally, what Andy has inadvertently mentioned on our dates and general chitchat from interviews. We have a separate section for our assumptions and queries.
It’s tricky when people conceal their real selves. I’ve met Julie a few times now at dancing and the pub jaunts afterwards and not once has she given me the impression that she has anything to hide. Let’s find out whether Mo can ascertain the truth today. My heart is beating faster than it should. Despite all of this, I like Julie. I don’t want to find out any gory details.
‘Can you tell us your relationship with Giles Harrington?’ Mo goes straight in for the jugular. No more messing about.
‘He was my landlord, well him and his late wife; I lodged with them.’
‘And
tell us about the personal nature of your relationship?’
She pauses, weighing up why he asked this question. Acceptance crosses her face, ‘We were lovers for a time, Giles and I.’
‘How did that start?’
‘We shared each other's space, and we grew close. It was easy to forget that Steph, Giles’ wife, was upstairs. She was always in bed. Quite incapacitated.’
She pauses and Mo doesn’t speak. He expects more.
‘We behaved like a married couple. We’d shop for each other, eat together if his shifts worked out, then sit and watch TV in the evening. Look I’m not proud of myself, but it was inevitable.’
‘So when Steph died, did you expect things to carry on as they had?’ Mo is not holding back.
‘No of course not, I understood he had to grieve. We were in a surreal situation and a shock for both of us. I know it sounds callous as I lived with Steph, but events took on a life of their own.’
‘But you said you were like a married couple, if so, why didn’t things carry on?’
She pauses and sips her aerated water. The plastic cup bends into a ridge above her thumb as she clasps it. The liquid isn't high enough to spill out over the top, but she’s under pressure.
‘We agreed after the funeral that it wasn’t right to keep seeing each other.’
‘You agreed, or Giles told you?’
‘We agreed.’ She covers her mouth with her hand as she rests her face on it; her chest moves gently up and down as her breathing accelerates.
‘We agreed…’ she repeats softly, ‘it was the right thing. Giles didn’t need another commitment at that point. I could see that.’
‘Why would you not fight? You had an opportunity to be with the man that I’m assuming you loved? It doesn’t make sense to me that you would simply give up when the one obstacle to that love carrying on unhindered is eliminated.’