It looked like he had loaned money to other companies and had lost it when they had failed to take off. He had paid twenty-five thousand pounds for shares in a start-up that had gone bankrupt before it turned a profit. There were letters from investors too; creditors sending final payment notices and demands for overdue invoices. He had even taken out a small loan against the house, and although it seemed like he had managed to pay it back, I got the impression that Mike was only just keeping his head above water. I wondered how much Amy had known.
I took photos on my phone of some of Mike’s bank statements and the letters. I wasn’t sure what it all meant, but it didn’t look good, and this was clearly why he wanted the money. That felt wrong to me – Amy had wanted any life insurance to set up the kids for the future, not to pay back Mike’s bad business decisions. Hopefully Jake could help me understand all this better, and maybe I could use it to fight Mike’s challenge on the will, if he went ahead with it. I sent Jake a message:
I think Mike is in financial difficulty, and I want to learn more. Can I come to see you tomorrow?
He replied promptly: Yes, of course you can pop by. I’m free all morning.
I sent another message to Amy:
Were you worried about money? Or did Mike hide it from you?
The timer on my phone buzzed – I had about ten minutes before the kids got home. I quickly packed everything back up and put the key away in its hiding place, then went downstairs to make a start on dinner.
I absent-mindedly peeled the carrots, letting my mind wander. The strangest part of being on sabbatical from work was the lack of emails. The uncomfortable silence from the office was making me anxious, and I was annoyed at them for treating me like this – like I was weak. I was missing my friends, and my social life, too. After the initial waves of sympathy messages, the texts and phone calls had ebbed away. Adam had been in touch daily to check in on me, but I hadn’t heard from most of my friends since before the funeral. I sighed. Out of sight, out of mind. Besides, I was hardly the life and soul of the party these days. I had nothing to share except misery.
Still, it was giving me the space and the time to focus on my family, and on getting some answers. The thought that Amy’s death might not have been an accident was a terrifyingly deep and dark hole that I didn’t want to fall into, but my gut was telling me something wasn’t right. Mike’s finances and the way he had reacted to Amy’s will would give anyone cause for concern. I didn’t want to link the two, but I couldn’t shake the dark cloud of dread.
I poured another vodka. I longed for my sister in that moment – for all the moments we had missed, and all the moments we would never have.
What was troubling you? I texted her. What was so bad that you couldn’t tell me?
I thought about who might know more, and who I could trust. If Amy hadn’t been able to talk to me, I doubt she would have confided in Auntie Sue. Still, it was worth a try. Then there was Rachel – she had been a rock to me. She knew my sister better than anyone and could probably give me the clearest picture about what was going on in Amy’s life.
I was also curious about Richard Pringle. He and Amy seemed to have been good friends, and I wondered how well he had got on with Mike.
I was jolted out of my thoughts by the front door opening. The kids trooped in – Betsy’s face was tear-stained and Hannah looked weary, while Lucas stormed straight up the stairs without even saying hello.
Betsy gave me a long, garbled explanation about some boy who had said something mean, and they’d had what sounded like a pretty vicious argument. I did my best to follow the story, but I was trying to chop vegetables and follow the recipe book at the same time, and I kept missing bits. Hannah sat at the kitchen table with her head in her hands, and only offered me a grunt when I asked her how her day had been.
I was quite proud of the shepherd’s pie I made for dinner – not bad for a first attempt. It had taken way longer than I’d realised it would, and everyone was starving by the time we eventually sat down to eat. But Hannah just pushed it around her plate and Lucas couldn’t even pretend to enjoy it.
‘Is there anything else for tea? I don’t like this. It’s got lumps in it.’
The back of my neck was getting hot and itchy.
‘Me either,’ said Betsy. ‘I want sausages.’
I took a deep breath and was thinking about my next move when the front door opened.
‘Only me!’ Auntie Sue cried out from the hall as she took her boots off. ‘Just thought I’d see how everyone was doing after the first day back.’
She bustled into the kitchen, tossing her coat and scarf to one side and sliding up to Lucas. ‘Ooh, that looks delicious!’
‘It’s lumpy. And it doesn’t taste like Mummy’s,’ he said again, for Auntie Sue’s benefit.
My patience was stretched to a fine thread.
Auntie Sue caught my eye. ‘Listen you lot, we’re all trying here – nobody harder than your Auntie Izzy. Remember what we were saying about being patient and kind to one another? We all miss your mum, but sometimes we’re going to have to do things that are a bit different, just while we get the hang of things. And that starts with eating your dinner, right now.’
How did she always know what to say? I banked her lines for later use.
By some miracle, the kids ate most of their dinner, and I ignored the grumbling and downcast faces as I watched the food on their plates slowly disappear.
‘Thought you might need this.’ Auntie Sue pulled a bottle of wine from her bag as I loaded the dishwasher. It was a crappy Rioja, but I couldn’t have been happier if it was a bottle of champagne. I had to suppress tears of joy as she opened it and poured me a glass.
‘Are you OK?’
I took a gulp of wine.
‘It’s just been a long day. Make that a long week, actually. I’ve no idea what I’m doing with the kids, my mum is typically useless, my career is on life-support and most of all, I just miss my sister!’ I wailed onto Auntie Sue’s shoulder.
‘Come on now,’ she said, rubbing my back. ‘You’re doing a great job. Our Amy would be so proud. Let’s just take one day at a time.’
I smiled at her weakly. Right now, one day at a time was the best plan I had.
Chapter Eight
With that morning’s chores completed, I got in the Mini and headed up to Alnwick. It was another clear, bright day, and I took the coast road to appreciate the views at their finest. I had forgotten quite how lovely this corner of the world could be.
At the offices of Moore, Moore & Ridley, Jake poured me a cup of tea from a pot while I told him what I’d seen from Mike’s accounts and the conversation I had overheard before his mysterious last-minute business trip. He agreed that it sounded a bit fishy and promised he would look into it. I AirDropped him copies of the documents from my phone.
By the time we were done, it was 12.30 p.m. and Jake suggested going for lunch. We walked across the street to a cute little Italian place and I had a vague memory of going there with Amy, Mum and Dad after a school show or something. Normally I would have ordered a glass of wine, but I had the drive home, and that just didn’t seem right after what happened to Amy. Knowing I had to drive that day, I’d even skipped my morning special of vodka and orange juice.
Jake fidgeted with his cutlery.
‘I hope I’m not about to overstep the line here. But your sister’s life insurance policy… it’s enormous.’
‘Isn’t that a good thing?’
He swallowed. ‘Most people don’t take out policies that size. It would have been very expensive. And it’s completely disproportionate to her income, assets and debts.’
‘But presumably Amy and Mike had their reasons for doing it,’ I said, thinking out loud.
‘Absolutely, I’m sure they did. Although it’s very strange that Mike wasn’t aware his wife had changed hers. If it does turn out that there were suspicious circumstances surrounding her death, a huge life insurance policy would be
a red flag. And of course, the insurance company will wait until the coroner’s final report before paying anything.’
I could imagine exactly why Amy would take out decent life insurance – after what we had gone through, she would have wanted to make sure her kids would be well taken care of if anything happened to her or Mike.
Absentmindedly, I reached for my glass of water and took a sip. Jake blinked at me, spots of pink appearing on his cheeks.
‘That’s mine,’ he said, a shy smile dancing on his lips.
‘Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry!’
Now it was my turn to blush. I wiped the edge of Jake’s glass with my napkin and sheepishly handed it back to him. His fingers brushed mine as he took the glass from me and there was a spark of something, almost like a shiver of electricity.
Was I seriously getting a crush on the senior partner of the family’s solicitor firm? What was wrong with me? I shook it off and quickly turned back to polite conversation. Jake seemed equally happy to move the discussion along.
It turned out that the Ridley in Moore, Moore & Ridley was actually Jake’s father, who had been a school friend and university classmate of Charles Moore Sr. The elder Moore and Ridley had shared lifelong passions for grouse-hunting, golf, vintage brandy, and the law. They had forced these pursuits onto their sons from a young age, but Ridley junior had shown no interest in any of it apart from a legal career. And even that was a stretch – Jake had hoped to travel the world as a crime writer, until his father had convinced him that the best route to literary success was to write as a sideline, once he was well-established in the legal profession.
I laughed as Jake told me he came from a long line of decreasingly distinguished law-makers, which he could trace back through the Ridley family archives through to his great-great-great-grandfather, a Sheriff of Northumberland. When his father had died, Jake’s inheritance had been tied with the practice and he had finally resigned himself to fate. Writing fiction would have to wait.
He asked me about growing up in Seahouses, and I told him all about Amy, entertaining him with the stories of how we used to keep each other amused. Jake was a good listener and was very easy to talk to. Besides, he had already seen my family – or what was left of it – at our worst. I just hoped he wasn’t about to see us sink to a new level of despair.
Back at the village, I called in on Mum and Auntie Sue. Auntie Sue answered the door in an apron and I followed her back into the kitchen. There was a strong smell of incense coming from the living room.
‘Does she ever stop burning the herbs?’ I asked.
‘Hush now, you know that’s just how she’s dealing with Amy,’ she said, whispering over the washing up.
I went to join Mum in the living room. She had laid a circle of candles around a yoga mat in the middle of the floor and was burning joss sticks, while soft bongo music pitter-pattered from an ancient CD player.
‘Izzy – come and meditate with me.’
For once, I didn’t feel the normal surge of anger that rose like a wave whenever Mum was doing her hippy thing. I simply didn’t have the energy to fight her on it anymore.
‘Fine. Where do you want me to sit?’
Mum positioned me sitting cross-legged at the centre of the mat and arranged my hands on my knees so that my palms were facing up. She told me to close my eyes, and then re-positioned my head, first turning it gently to the left and right, then forwards and backwards, then released me so slowly that it was hard to tell how high my head was lifted.
‘Just breathe,’ she said in a weird, soft voice. ‘Feel your breath. Feel your body. Just focus on you, and nothing but breathing.’
I took a deep inhale and let it out slowly. How far away were those candles? Burning the place down would be such a Mum thing to do. With my eyes closed, I could hear the bongo music more clearly, and noticed a new noise – the gentle tinkling of running water. Where was that coming from?
‘Mum, do you have a leak or something? Why can I hear water?’
‘Ssshhh, don’t break your focus!’
I ignored her and looked in the direction of the noise. ‘Is that a fountain?’ My attention was drawn to a bubbling rock decoration on the TV stand.
‘Izzy! I told you to concentrate!’
I snapped my head forward again, eyes closed, trying not to giggle.
Mum took a deep breath. ‘It’s a miniature indoor fountain. Having water in a room is essential for a good balance of elements, and if you must know, that one has a peace crystal at the centre to promote the well-being of everyone who comes in this house. It’s all about the feng shui.’
OK, now I really was going to get the giggles. If only Amy had been here to see this.
But she must have seen it. Surely that would have been worth a quick text to her sister? I tried to imagine a scenario in which Amy would have discovered that our mother had installed a universal-healing indoor water feature in her living room and not thought it merited sending a laughing emoji my way. How had we grown so far apart that she wouldn’t have shared this with me, the person she once shared a whole world with?
‘Now, the only important thing is your breathing. All of these other thoughts, competing for your attention – they’re the distractions you face, every hour, every day. Meditation is rising above the distractions and empowering yourself to focus on what really matters.’
Mum was doing her stupid yogi voice again, but what she was saying actually made sense. I did have a lot of distractions right now and needed to remember what was important.
‘Channel the energy from the elements, from the earth, from inside your body. You have everything you need to overcome any challenge; it’s already within you. You are stronger than you ever knew. You just need to get past the distractions and rise above the noise…’
I felt stupid, but also strangely serene. Just sitting still and doing some deep breathing was making me feel more relaxed than I had been in weeks – yet, at the same time, strong.
‘Sorry, Mum,’ I said, reluctant to break the spell. ‘But that water thing – it’s really making me need the loo.’
Meditation session and toilet break over, Mum cleared away the candles and yoga mat while Auntie Sue prepared a pot of tea and biscuits. Auntie Sue switched off the water feature at the socket and I caught her eye briefly before she looked away, hiding a smirk. She dragged the coffee table back into the middle of the room and I began to pour.
I took a deep breath. ‘While I’ve got you both here, I need to ask: was everything OK with Amy? Did she and Mike have problems?’ I glanced up from the teapot. Auntie Sue frowned anxiously at Mum, who was facing the window and had become captivated by something outside. ‘It’s just… Mike’s acting a bit weird about the life insurance thing,’ I continued. ‘Probably nothing to worry about…’
Neither of them was giving me anything.
‘But it would raise eyebrows, don’t you think?’ I persevered. ‘A woman is killed in an unfortunate accident and the husband thinks he is going to get a pay day from the insurance…’
‘Enough, Izzy!’ Mum snapped, glaring at me with wide eyes. ‘Don’t say things like that unless you mean them.’
‘I’m sorry,’ I said, realising I’d pushed it too far. ‘It’s just that I have a few questions about what was going on with Amy before she died, and we need to answer them – for all our sakes.’
‘What questions? Sweetheart, I know it is hard to accept, and it makes no sense, but Amy is gone. The universe took her from us. There was no reason for it and there’s nothing we can do about it. We could ask our whys for a thousand years and drive ourselves mad in the process and still be none the wiser.’
I held my head in my hands. ‘Mum – you guys saw her every week. You spent time with her and Mike. All I’m saying is that we should think hard about what we might have seen or heard. Anything that might help us understand or get some answers…’
‘My darling girl,’ Mum said, her eyes becoming watery pools and h
er hands trembling as she folded them over mine. ‘When somebody dies, there are no answers.’
Auntie Sue stood up. ‘I think perhaps that’s enough excitement for your Mum for now,’ she said, ushering me out of the room. ‘Maybe you can pop back over later?’
She grabbed her coat from the back of the door and followed me out into the street. I took long, purposeful strides so that she had to jog to keep up.
‘Come on, Izzy. You know that’s just her way…’
‘Yes, her way of dealing with things.’ I twirled back to face her. ‘So you keep saying. But you know what? I’m tired of hearing it. How about if she gave some useful advice for once instead of energy crystals and that ohm shanti crap?’
Auntie Sue was panting to catch her breath. ‘She’s trying her hardest. And your questions are way out of order. There was nothing weird going on with Amy, or between her and Mike. If there was, I’d have known.’
‘What if there was something going on and they were hiding it from us? Like if his business was in trouble, or they had money worries or something?’
Auntie Sue took a deep breath. ‘It takes ten minutes to walk from one end of this village to the other. None of us have secrets.’
I walked back to Amy’s, chewing over Auntie Sue’s words. The wind was blowing up from the south, a mild but strong wind that would trace fossil-like patterns over miles of sand dunes.
‘Oh Amy,’ I whispered to her on the breeze. ‘What was troubling you?’
I hadn’t been back for long when the door clanged open and the house was suddenly full of noise – school bags flung down in the hallway, stockinged feet thundering up the stairs, the chatter of three distinct voices shouting over one another. It was only 4 p.m. There were at least another five hours until bedtime and my stomach lurched as I wondered how we were going to fill them. Rachel had stressed the importance of maintaining their routine, but I had no idea what their routine actually was. I needed help.
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