by Karen Botha
She went quiet, swallowing, considering her options. Mo decides to push.
‘You’re not under arrest here, we’re just housekeeping cold cases so you have no reason to withhold facts which will help us. We won't arrest you for being in love with the man you were sleeping with. We don’t arrest people for wanting a future with someone they love. Hell, we’d be arresting pretty much all the female race if that were the case.’ He ends with a warm smile, bad cop is well hidden now and the good cop is trying his luck.
‘OK, I get what you are saying. Yeah, I wanted us to continue, but Giles didn’t. Said he couldn't be seen to move on so quickly. I tried to tell him I would wait, but he wouldn’t have it. He kept reiterating that it would be obvious something had happened before Steph died if we ever came out.’
Mo goes in for the jugular now, ‘I’m sorry about this, but I have to ask. Life would have been much easier for you without Steph. Did you kill her to clear the way for you guys to become an official item?’
Her face drops, and she stutters, ‘No of course not!' A piece of me is pleased.
Mo’s not letting it lie there. He has to push whilst she is off guard. ‘It would make sense wouldn’t it, if you wanted a future with him that you would withhold her medication until such a point that her heart gives in. She'd die of natural causes then wouldn't she? I’m willing to bet that if I start to pick off the layers of this case, I'd find you dishing out her tablets when Giles wasn’t around. Prime opportunity - you have to agree.’
He leaves it hanging, and she's angry now.
I speak in his ear-piece, ‘Mo, you know Steph died of too much meds don’t you? Don’t push this - unless you want her to let down her guard?’ He raises his head towards the camera fixed into the corner of the room and drops it into an almost imperceptible nod.
Unaware, Julie starts a rant. ‘Let me be frank with you. I’m a single woman, I had other options, so whilst it may suit your case to cast me as the lovesick mistress, your theory doesn’t work. Yes I would have liked to be with Giles, but I’m not the person you want me to be. We had CCTV all over that house, you can check yourself. You'll find I was in charge of her medication, but I always gave it to her, it will be on the footage.’
Whoa! Now it’s our turn to be shocked. Mo’s face imitates mine and we both pause in our respective positions whilst we consider this. I scan the file notes again, nothing about any cameras.
Mo recovers, ‘So you’re telling me there is CCTV footage from the inside of the house that will back up what you’re saying?’
‘Yes, didn’t you know? They were installed to make sure that Giles was always able to check she hadn't fallen or something when she was alone.’
‘Who set them up?’
‘Wyndham.’
LUCY
‘I shouldn’t be here when you tell Paula.’ Giles shifts awkwardly on my sofa. I’m going off the lime green. I’d like us to buy furniture together.
‘No, we’re a couple now and she needs to accept that, can you believe we’ve been engaged a week already and I’m only telling her today? She has to come to terms with life changing.’ I reply.
‘But don’t you want a bit of girl time to gossip about it all?’
‘No, we can chat with you here. If I’m honest, she may behave better,’ and that’s it, my true motive in making Giles sit through what will undoubtedly be an awkward announcement.
‘Don’t bank on it,’ he mutters without turning, as he jumps up to straighten a framed photo from our holiday.
My hand is shaking as I open the front door to my best friend. It shouldn’t be like this. I’m finding it difficult to act normal around her and greet her with an over-exaggerated hug as if I’ve not seen her for years. She’s a bit standoffish, leaning back as I grab her.
‘Come in,’ it’s something I never say to her. I usually swing the door open and stand aside. ‘The kettles on,’ I carry on, fidgeting with my hands as I follow her down the hall. She takes the hint and heads into the kitchen.
My hand wobbles as I stir the tea bag in the cup. Then I only go and splosh milk over the work surface. I’m over eager to get the niceties done with. Keen to get this over with.
Once we’re seated on the sofa, I have all on not to blurt out our wonderful news. Instead, I go through the motions of telling her how fabulous our holiday was, showing her the pictures, so she's on the journey with us. Then it strikes me, I have a picture of my ring. I’ll show her that, so I don’t actually have to find the words. Despite many fraught hours mulling over the best way to broach the subject, the perfect sentence construction is still eluding me.
I swipe my phone and present her with the all important photograph, taken before my diamond went off to the jewellers for resetting. She holds it steady for a few seconds whilst the meaning registers.
‘What’s that?’ she asks, brow furrowed.
‘It’s my engagement ring.’ My voice is way meeker than I would have hoped for when delivering the most fantastic news I have ever been able to bestow. I smile to fill the gap and we stare at each other for what seems like a lifetime.
The clock ticks over in the background and even Giles is remarkably still until he finally helps me out, ‘I asked Lucy to marry me and she accepted.’ He is so my knight in shining armour right now.
The normal order of things would involve Paula hugging me and giving her delighted congratulations, but we’re not dealing with the normal order of things.
‘Well, where is it, why are you showing me a picture?’ she asks as she inspects my hands.
‘It’s an heirloom so I’ve sent it to that little jewellers in Nestferry to be reset. He’s going to use the same gold, but set it in an art déco style with lots of claws around the diamond,’ I enthuse.
I’m so excited about my ring. Obviously because it symbolises Giles wanting to spend his life with me, but also that Virginia thought enough of our relationship to trust me with it. On top of that, I’ve designed it myself. It will be totally unique, whilst maintaining every element of its history in Giles’ family. ‘He says he’ll have gold left for me to have a small wedding band made up aswell.’
She’s not even pretending to be happy, but I continue trying to charm her into joining my excitement.
‘We’re going to get married fast. I’ve spoken to my Dad, he is getting dates from his local vicar so we’ll go up there soon for our banns to be read.’ I can’t help myself, I do a little seated jig on the sofa and a whoop whoop; Paula at least smiles, but when her eyes glitter, it's with anger.
‘Of course, you’ll be my maid of honour...’
'Thanks,’ her tone is acid.
I attempt another tack, trying desperately not to give way to crushing emptiness. ‘Giles has moved in, it makes sense with my business being from here that we live at mine. We’ve already managed to rent his place out. Can you believe it, we’ve only been back a week,’ I’m rabbiting on, the verbal equivalent of shaking her. It's not working. Her face is now like thunder. I stop.
‘Come on Paula, can’t you be happy for me?’
‘Have you told her?’ she directs her ill temper at Giles. His expression changes, he holds Paula's gaze. His colour evaporates and his eyes become narrow flashes of steel. He tilts his head forward, the muscles around his jaw flex and his hands ball into fists.
He doesn’t look like my Giles anymore.
The sparkle has gone, the warmth nowhere to be found. His whole body is rigid. He and Paula are staring hard at each other. For the first time I understand the depth of dislike each feels towards the other. I would so enjoy a glass of cool wine right now.
‘Told me what?’ I’m more bewildered than flustered, aware of a wire tightening around my chest.
‘It’s not relevant,’ Giles dismisses.
‘You should be the judge of that Lucy, don’t you think?’ Paula spits out.
My eyes move rapidly between the fireplace in front of which this dark stranger stands, and my best friend on t
he sofa.
‘What is going on?’ I ask again but it doesn't sum up my confusion. Why has my lovely man suddenly turned into someone I barely recognise? Why are he and Paula so hateful towards each other, and what on earth is it that I don’t know? More importantly, do I actually want to know?
‘Tell her Giles,’ Paula almost screams at him and I have a sickening sense I’m going to find out, regardless. ‘Tell her about you and Steph.’
And then a Giles I'm unfamiliar with speaks. ‘I don’t see the relevance of this, it was a long time ago and has no bearing on you and I. Our situation is entirely disparate.’
‘Was it also a long time ago that you stalked Lucy, Giles?’ Paula interjects. ‘Exactly how long ago was it that you were loitering regularly at the end of her road? How relevant is that to now, Giles? Have you told Lucy that none of this is coincidence, that you hunted her out?’
‘OK…’ I react slowly, ‘let’s deal with one thing at a time. What is this about you and Steph?’
He brushes his hand through his hair. ‘Right then, so when I was with Steph, she got sick, like you know...’
‘Yes.’
‘Money was tight, so we took in a lodger to help pay the bills. She also kept an eye out for Steph when my shifts meant I was away from the house for long stretches.’
‘OK,’ I’m still waiting. A knot is starting to form in my gut.
‘Well, Steph got really sick, we didn’t have a marriage set-up anymore, it was more a carer and patient situation. I was lonely and one thing led to another with the lodger.’
He continues to speak, but I’m not listening, my world has collapsed. My stomach churns and nausea rises like a blocked sink. I make a mad dash to the toilet, hitting it just in time with a splurge of half digested food and drink. I'm on my hands and knees coughing away the residue. In a moment of clarity, I comprehend how apt it is that I should be tasting such bitterness now.
They’re both clattering in behind me, vying to be the first to give me what I need. What I need now though is peace. I need them gone. Both of them, gone.
I recover my composure and stand, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand and half way up my arm. I don’t care. They can both feel what they like, I’m angry with them. I’m angry that Paula's jealousy led her to this discovery and I’m mad with Giles for not telling. Moreover, I’m more mad with myself for being lured in. I glance from one to the other and something settles inside me.
‘Please leave!’ They each stare at the other. I don’t assume either of them wants what is best for me. They’re both stubborn, deeming I mean the other. I take a deep breath, ‘Both of you; please leave.’
That doesn’t work and now they’re both talking at the same time. My adrenalin must be pumping because I can follow what they’re individually saying. Paula is crowing about only doing what she thought was right for me. Giles is going on about how I need to give him a proper chance to justify himself.
‘Oi!’ I’m shouting, annoyed that they've stuck me in the middle of their private war and that I'm the one losing the most.
They are wide eyed, staring at me, silenced by my unusual outburst.
‘Giles, there is nothing to explain. You cheated on your wife and acted against the principle of every vow you made to her in marriage. May I point out, this was not only when she needed you the most, but when she was at her weakest to retaliate. She was stuck and rather than caring, you cheated right under her nose. You should be ashamed of yourself. I’m not interested after that, even oddly enough, you stalking me, which is also totally freaky in case you were wondering. Which rational person does that?’ My voice is unusually determined.
‘I agree,’ Paula chimes in.
‘Oh, don’t you start,’ I bite at her, ‘you’ve been after Giles since the moment you met him. You may well have found the piece of negativity you've been hunting out, but this isn’t the victory you have been hoping for. You didn’t do any of this with my best interests in mind, you were jealous and you wanted him out of the picture.’
‘No it’s not like that,’ she always has to have the last word.
‘Look, please leave, both of you,’ I repeat. I'm alone right now with both of the people in the room who five minutes ago, I believed loved me dearly.
They both turn but their body language is so different. Paula is stalking towards the exit in a fit of outrage at my lack of appreciation. Giles is following Paula, but he stoops, his long legs just about keeping up with her. They get to the door at the same time and Giles gives way to Paula. I sense he is as defeated as I, it will take Paula a little longer.
Giles turns on the perimeter of the home I thought we were making together, ‘Where shall I go?’
‘I don’t care, that’s your choice. We agreed at the beginning no secrets. Yet, here we are a few months later with huge secrets which my best friend has to tell me because you haven't.’
‘But you never asked, so technically, it’s not something I withheld.’
‘Oh just get out,’ I shriek and slam the door in his face.
I stand behind it, breathing heavily and trying to stop shaking. I touch the old UPVC with the back of my arms as I lean against it and slide down to the floor. The pain in my chest spreads through my entire body and I scrunch into a ball, heavy tears flowing silently. My mouth gasps for air, but I don't make a sound. It occurs to me that his obsession with this door’s safety stems from him apparently stalking me, the door which represents the start and end of our relationship. How poignant that I should now be using it for strength.
PAULA
‘I cannot be wrong about this.’
‘I understand, you have a lot resting on it,’ Mo agrees. ‘At least you're able to investigate out in the open now, we don’t have to hide you in the surveillance room anymore.’ He’s smiling and his eyes are soft. Warmth fuzzes my heart, thankful to this man for having my back.
‘Always a silver lining…’ I fight the temporary urge to hug him. ‘It hurts though. I can understand Lucy's point, but it’s like this chap has come along and taken over. She can’t see anything beyond him. Obviously I’m concerned about her safety, but putting that aside for a second, her previous concerns now just aren’t important.’
‘But that’s what happens when you meet the right person, you’ll find out yourself some day. You forgive things of them that wouldn’t fly with anyone else.’ Mo reaches out and touches my hand gently as it rests on my knee in the passenger seat.
‘If I’m wrong, I’m afraid I may lose her totally.’ I lean towards the dashboard and cradle my head in my hands. My ultimate fear released like a bird from a cage, let loose to fly away. Except it doesn’t. It hangs around in its prison, crippled by uneasiness.
Mo doesn’t respond, he lets it hang in the air, platitudes redundant.
‘Do you know what happened once we left? Once Lucy kicked us out?’
‘No?’
‘Lucy slammed the door and the instant he was out of sight, his stature grew. He’d been stooping until that point, but as soon as he heard that bang, he stood straight, pulled his keys out of his pocket and stared at me. We were eyeball to eyeball for what seemed like an eternity, neither of us backing down in a kind of power play. He had no emotion, he was cold. I broke the stare to get in my car and he laughed, it was menacing. Maybe it was because my nerves were already frayed but it made me uncomfortable.’
‘Yeah that sounds intense, but it did come on the back of a fairly heated argument.’ Mo, always the voice of reason.
We’re on our way to see Wyndham. We had to wait for him to return from a business trip. I’ve not spoken to Lucy since, and I’m getting frustrated. I want to call and talk through what I’ve found and what this usually means. I know, until I find something, I’m fighting a battle I’ll lose. Things are strained enough between us already. I have to come out tops - and quickly.
As we pull up outside Wyndham and Penelope's home, I’m no longer struck by its beauty. I hardly notice the elega
nt pathway to the inviting porch.
‘We have a job to do now, let’s get on with it,’ I punch Mo lightly on the arm, letting off a small amount of steam.
The door opens before we have a chance to knock and for a moment I mistake the figure for his brother. Intuitively, I step back. I rub my eyeballs, shaking my head to obliterate the image burned into my retina of Giles' cold eyes the last time we met.
‘Please, do come in,’ Wyndham invites.
We shake hands and pass into the hallway. I do like this solid flooring.
Wyndham leads us down stairs into the basement.
‘I didn’t realise many houses still had basements,’ hoping privately he’s not taking us into some dungeon.
‘Yes, this one does,’ and I get the distinct impression he’s being careful with his words. Always a sign of something to hide.
He shows us in to his uber sophisticated office space. It’s enormous, it must run the entire length of the house. It's definitely a male domain, decorated in white and black with grey tiled floor. A lone shaggy black rug sits under his glass desk which is totally devoid of clutter - not even a laptop graces its pristine surface. Once we’re seated on a predictable black leather sofa, Wyndham drags up a high white wheely chair from the counter side of his work space. It glints against the overhead lighting, he takes this as his seat. Power play. He wants to be in charge.
‘So how can I help you?’ he smiles, folding his hands in his lap in a practised pose of being relaxed.
‘Well, as we explained on the telephone, we’ve been investigating the death of some cold cases, Steph Harrington being one of them.’
‘Yes, I'm aware of that. I currently have my brother who has been made homeless staying with me due to your investigation,’ he quips, snidely.
‘Oh, I’m sorry you don’t want justice to be done in this instance Mister Harrington.’ Mo, puts a hand on my arm warning me I’m overstepping the professional mark. I button it whilst Wyndham gives a half smile, pleased to have riled me.