I looked down at the table. “They may have done, but I didn’t tell them.”
“Lucy, why not?”
I shook my head, let out a long breath. “It was really confusing at the time. And –”
“And you kept something like that from the police?”
“I know it sounds bad now, but it wasn’t that straightforward. I saw them during the night when I was sleepwalking. I woke up in the hall at Staverton, staring into the study at Gwen and Jake. There was one hell of a commotion, then Caroline’s parents came downstairs and said there was no sign of Gwen and Jake. The study was empty. They told me it must all have been a dream.”
“Was it?”
“No. At least, I’m pretty sure it wasn’t.” I rubbed my eyes again. “And I can’t help thinking that might be what Malcolm wants to ask me about.”
Freddie folded his arms and nodded. “Okay, but wouldn’t that make him look more guilty. Jealous husband and all that? Unless you think Jake killed her?”
“Oh, no. I’m sure Jake couldn’t have.”
“Well then.” Freddie stood and stretched. “I better check on the pie.”
I noticed a bottle of red wine on the opposite side of the kitchen. I walked over and picked it up, examining the label. “I didn’t know you were into wine, Freddie.”
“Oh.” Freddie shut the oven door and straightened, his cheeks flushed. “About that –”
There was a knock at the door.
“Only me,” Bess called out and let herself in the front door.
Things clicked into place. The large pie for dinner, the wine, Bess. My hands shot up to my mouth. “I’m such an idiot, why didn’t you tell me to clear off, Freddie. I shouldn’t have turned up expecting you not to have plans. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Bess came around to see you,” Freddie said, setting the table with place mats.
I looked across at Bess. A comic expression of confusion played over her face while she worked out what to say.
“Yes. Of course,” Bess said. “I heard you were visiting, Lucy.”
“Right.” I put my hands on my hips. “Look, if you two are spending time together, you don’t have to hide it from me. I think you’d make a great couple.”
Bess looked at Freddie, who laid the cutlery down heavily. “Lucy, get the glasses.”
Bess gave a high-pitched giggle. “Oh, Lucy. You do have some daft ideas.”
Chapter 30
Despite Freddie’s reservations, I returned to Edinburgh with my mind made up. I would visit Malcolm to hear him out. I replied to his letter, and a week later, I received a visitors pass in the mail.
I had never visited a prison before, and I imagined an imposing, gothic structure, complete with surly wardens jangling big, circular rings of keys on their hips. But of course it was nothing like that. The man who dealt with me at the entrance looked more like an accountant. He was polite and efficient, even if he didn’t smile.
The building was low-rise and had green, open space around it. The visitors room wasn’t as bad as I expected, the walls were plain and a bit dreary, but everything was clean. At one end of the room, a selection of biscuits, tea and coffee were laid out.
I hadn’t expected it to be so hot, though. I’d dressed in a smart, grey trouser suit, and sensible low heels, which was ridiculous. Who was I trying to impress? I’d dressed as if I were going to court, not a prison visitors room. And now I was sweating.
If I took off my jacket, the heat would be bearable, but I could feel the sweat soaking into my shirt. It wouldn’t be pretty. I decided to suffer through and leave it on. The heat wasn’t the only thing making me sweat.
I couldn’t have stood out more if I’d tried. The rest of the visitors were dressed casually, mainly in jeans, but one of the women wore tracksuit bottoms that hung too low on her hips and showed her underwear. Classy.
At the sound of approaching footsteps, I clenched my fists. My whole body tensed as I looked at the door. I could leave now, before he saw me. But I didn’t move.
I recognized Malcolm Rutherford immediately. He was smaller than I remembered, but perhaps that was because he walked with his shoulders hunched over. He had lost weight, too. He still had a little paunch, sticking out over his trousers, but his arms and legs were thin as sticks, and his cheeks were hollow.
He had less hair, and his pink, shiny scalp showed through the strands of hair he combed across his head. For some reason, this part of his appearance upset me more than anything else. I remembered when we had gone sailing, his hat had flown off in a particularly strong breeze, and he kept smoothing his hair, trying to cover his bald patch.
He moved forward to greet me, and he held out his hands and grasped mine. “Thank you, Lucy, for coming. It means a great deal.”
We both sat down, facing each other across a wide table.
“How have you been?” I asked, immediately regretting it. He was hardly doing brilliantly stuck in here.
Malcolm smiled. “Well, I miss my strolls along the beach, my glass of port in the evenings, and I miss Gwen.” He said Gwen’s name in a whisper.
“Yes. It must be hard.”
He nodded, looking down at the desk, then looked up at me and smiled. “But you, you’re doing very well. I read about your gallery’s exhibit in the paper. I bet your parents would be –”
I cut him off. I knew he was going to say proud, but I wasn’t comfortable with that. He had never met my parents. How would he know how they would feel? I knew he might try to manipulate me. He may have seemed nice on the occasions I’d met him, but I had to remember I didn’t know him well, at all.
“Malcolm, we don’t have very long today, and I have travelled down from Edinburgh –”
“Yes, I know and I am very grateful, really I am. Tell me, have you been sailing? Did those sea legs I told you about develop?” He looked past me, staring dreamily into the distance, remembering.
“No, I haven’t been sailing again. But what was it you wanted to talk to me about?”
There was an awkward silence as he gazed at me. He shook his head. “I’m sorry. It’s just seeing you. It has brought back a lot of memories of that summer.”
I didn’t know how to respond.
“I didn’t kill her, Lucy. I didn’t kill Gwen.”
“I see.”
Malcolm leaned forward and grabbed my hands. “I didn’t kill my wife.” He spoke with such force his jowls wobbled.
One of the wardens shot him a dark look, and Malcolm released my hands.
My hands trembled, and I put them under the table, out of sight, then drew an unsteady breath. “I’m not sure how I can help you.”
He gave a nervous laugh. I could see the beads of sweat along his forehead. “It was Gwen’s sister. She told me...” Malcolm looked down at the table and bit his lip. “She told me Gwen confided she’d been having an affair.” He stumbled over the words, and he blinked back tears from his watery, pale blue eyes.
I stared at him. I’d been expecting this, but once he said those words I felt like running out of the room. I wiped my sweaty palms on my trousers. Please don’t let it be Jake, I thought, please let it be someone else.
He spoke in a louder voice, his eyes darting around the room as if he were addressing everyone. “Now they won’t admit to that, will they? The family has closed ranks. They’re not likely to incriminate one of their own. But then I thought of you, Lucy.” He gave a nervous laugh and smiled at me.
“All the time you spent with their daughter, Caroline, that summer. And you were at Staverton when it happened. You must have seen something. Or heard something?”
I pushed myself back from the table. “No. No, I didn’t.”
“Gwen, said you were a lovely girl. We both thought that. Maybe you saw them spending time together? Perhaps at the time it looked innocent?”
My throat was dry. I swallowed and managed to say: “Who do you think she was having an affair with?”
Malco
lm looked at me. His eyes narrowed, and he said, “Jake.”
Chapter 31
Caroline didn’t return my first call, or my second. I finally got through to Caroline’s mobile on my fourth attempt.
“Caroline, it’s Lucy.”
“Lucy, I was just thinking about you.” Caroline’s voice sounded distant and echoed down the line. “But it’s not a very good time for me. Can I call you back?”
“Okay. But I really need to talk to you. It’s important.”
“I’m about to board a plane. I’m heading back to the UK. I can call you in about three hours.”
“You’re coming back to the UK?” I asked.
That was better. I could talk to Caroline in person.
“Yes. Just for a couple of days, but it’s better than nothing. Look, I’ll call you back tonight. Maybe we can meet up?”
I thought about it. “Yes, it would be better to talk about this face-to-face. Where will you be staying?”
“Staverton. God, I’ve missed the old place. Why don’t you come down and stay for the weekend? Then you can tell me all about it. You are being very mysterious,” Caroline said. There was a muffled scraping sound, and I heard Caroline talking to someone in the background. “Got to go. I’m being told to turn my phone off. I’ll call you when I land.”
After Caroline hung up, I poured myself a large glass of wine and stood by the large window in my living room. The view was the best thing about this flat, other than the ease of getting to work in the mornings. If I leaned forward against the window ledge, I could see Edinburgh Castle illuminated. At night, it seemed to float above the city.
I gulped down the wine, and then noticed my hands were trembling. Was it because I was planning to visit Staverton again? Or because I might be about to do something that would hurt my childhood friend?
***
The train was a newer model, but the countryside flashing past was the same, and it tugged at my memory. The journey down from Edinburgh had taken eight hours, so far, with luckily, only one change at Totnes station. I was nearly there now. I picked up my phone and sent Caroline a text message.
I had brought a Lesley Pearse novel, and magazines to keep me occupied, but the book lay on the seat next to me, unopened, and the magazines were still in the carrier bag. I’d been unable to concentrate on anything other than what I would say to Caroline once I arrived at Staverton.
I’d forced down a dry sandwich from the buffet car at lunchtime, and followed it with a couple of headache tablets. I considered phoning Freddie, but decided against it as he hadn’t wanted me to go and see Malcolm in the first place. He might try to talk me out of going back to Staverton, and the way I felt at the moment, I could easily be persuaded to catch the next train straight back up to Edinburgh.
The train pulled into the station, and I disembarked with my small case, slamming the train door behind me. I was the only passenger to alight. Staverton-on-Sea Station looked just as it had five years ago, with the same blue and white sign, flanked by flower-filled hanging baskets.
I walked along the platform, towards the exit, wheeling my case behind me and remembering how Jake had been waiting to pick us up in his sports car. I could picture it clearly: Jake’s pride in his car, Caroline’s excitement, the little country roads and then my first sight of Staverton.
A cry, over on my right, made me turn around. Caroline dashed over to me. In her exuberance, she knocked over my case as she hugged me, which made us both laugh.
“I hope there was nothing breakable in there,” Caroline said and held me at arm’s length. “Lucy, you haven’t changed a bit.”
“Apart from adding a few inches to my waistline.”
“Nonsense. You look amazing. Come on,” Caroline said and reached for my case. “Let’s get back. We’ve got so much to catch up on.”
Caroline led me over to a silver, convertible Mercedes, popped the boot open and shoved my case inside.
“Fancy car,” I said.
“It’s my mother’s. There’s not much point in me getting one. I’m never here.”
“But everything’s going well? The tour I mean?” I asked as we buckled up, and Caroline started the engine.
“Oh, yes. Dropping out of uni was the best thing I ever did.” Caroline, drove out of the car park, through empty parking bays, ignoring the one way system. An irate pensioner, behind the wheel of a Nissan, blasted his horn.
“I have missed you, Lucy,” Caroline said and looked over at me as I gripped the sides of the seat.
I tried to relax enough to smile. “It’s been a long time.”
Caroline looked good. Her red hair was whipped back by the wind, exposing her face. She still had freckles, but her face had lost its youthful plumpness. With her high cheekbones and full pouting mouth, she looked stunning.
“So,” Caroline turned in the driver’s seat and faced me. “What did you need to talk to me about?” She turned back to face the road, just as she started to drift into the opposite lane. She quickly swerved so we were back on the correct side of the white line.
I let out the breath I’d been holding. “I’ll explain later when we get to Staverton.” I didn’t want to distract her and end up in a ditch.
Caroline shot me a sideways glance. “Very mysterious.”
“How are things with you?” I asked.
“Pretty good. Although, I’m not seeing Jonathan anymore. Did I tell you about him?”
I shook my head.
“Well, that caused some problems. I can tell you, never get romantically involved with your manager.”
“I’ll bear that in mind,” I said as Caroline took a corner so fast, the tyres on the Mercedes squealed in protest.
“Speaking of romantic involvements,” Caroline said and raised an eyebrow. “Michael’s at Staverton this weekend.”
I flushed. Both of Caroline’s brothers moved to London a few years ago. I knew Michael owned an art studio and gallery in Notting Hill, and Jake felt the market for his particular type of antiques was better suited to London. I hadn’t considered either of them might be at Staverton this weekend. Did that mean Jake might be there, too?
“Ah, Lucy, don’t get all embarrassed. Michael often asks after you.”
“Does he?”
Caroline laughed. “Yes, he’s always very interested to hear how you’re getting along.”
I thought of the last time I’d seen him, in the tacky American themed diner, when I wore that hideous stripy uniform.
The car sped past the countryside. Caroline kept looking over at me, rather than looking at the road.
I tucked some of my flyaway hair behind my ear. “Will Jake be there, too?”
“I thought Michael was the one you had designs on.”
“I don’t have designs on anyone. It’s a perfectly reasonable question.”
“All right,” Caroline said, raising her hands in surrender and letting go of the wheel, guiding it only with her knees. “I’m only joking.”
My stomach lurched as a tractor pulled across the road.
Caroline braked sharply and narrowly avoided the tractor. “I’m not sure if Jake will be there. He did say he’d try his best to get down to see me.” She shrugged. “So I guess we’ll have to wait and see.”
Chapter 32
“Leave your stuff there for now. We can take it upstairs later. Let’s say hello first. They’re outside, I think,” Caroline said and wandered through the entrance hall, past the curved staircase, towards the back of the house.
I put my bags against the wall and followed Caroline. Staverton looked the same as it had five years ago, majestic and proud. On top of the huge table in the entrance hall, a vase filled with a magnificent flower arrangement took centre stage. The smell of freesias and furniture polish filled the air.
I walked along the familiar wood-panelled hall. I couldn’t resist a glimpse at the study as I passed, but the door was closed. When we walked through the French doors and stepped onto the terrace,
I caught my breath. I’d forgotten how beautiful it was.
The lawns stretched down to the cliffs, and beyond the cliffs, the sea sparkled. The trees that grew along each side of the garden, tunnelled the eye straight down to the sea, and kept the garden private.
At the sound of chairs scraping on the terrace floor, I turned and saw Angela and Michael standing up to greet me. I moved forward and kissed Angela on both cheeks.
I turned to Michael. The wide grin and warm hug he gave me made me want to forget about Malcolm completely. He held me tight, then eased me back so he could look down at me. “It’s great to see you again, Lucy.”
He had the same dark hair, maybe slightly broader shoulders. But something was different. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. Maybe it was his hair, which was a little longer than the last time I’d seen him. It fell forward, framing his face, making his brown eyes look even warmer. I stared for a moment before realizing I might look a bit odd, standing there, gazing up into his eyes.
I pulled back. “Good to see you, too.”
“Lucy, come, sit down and have a cup of tea. You can tell us all about the gallery. Caroline mentioned you are managing it now,” Angela said.
We all sat down, and Angela served drinks from a small trolley beside the table. She handed me a gin and tonic.
I took a sip of my drink, then glanced across at Michael. He smiled, and I realised what was different about him. He looked happy.
I hoped it was because his father now accepted Michael’s chosen career. Maybe Lawrence had mellowed. Maybe he had come to terms with the fact that neither of his sons would follow him into the family business.
We sat on the terrace, drinking and chatting about old times. The conversation flowed freely, but no one mentioned Gwen.
Michael told me he had been able to set up a studio in London, and his work was selling reasonably well.
“Oh, don’t listen to him, Lucy. He’s too modest. His work is selling faster than he can produce it. He’s doing incredibly well,” Caroline said.
“And your father and I are very proud of you.” Angela reached over and squeezed Michael’s hand. “Now, Lucy, tell us about your gallery.
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