“Kate? Do you agree?”
“I was upstairs collecting evidence from the girl’s room when Mr Ahmed arrived home. I didn’t have as much contact with him, and not initial contact, but I would agree based on the little I did see.”
“Okay, what do we know about Mr Ahmed, then?”
Gareth cleared his throat and straightened himself up. “Tariq Ahmed. Fifty-two-year-old male, moved to the UK in 1995 from Pakistan. Married in 1998 to Mishra Khan. Two children—well, one now. Nadia at seventeen was the oldest and Mohammed, eleven. He runs a market stall but used to own a clothes shop on the High Street.”
“Where?” Clare asked the question that sat on the tip of Kate’s tongue.
“Right where Ann Summers used to be.” Gareth said, a smug smile painted across his lips.
“Boom!” Clare shouted. “And now we know why that shop was the specific target. Get Mr Ahmed in for questioning. Let’s see if we can find out who his little girl’s been hanging out with and what else he might know.” She looked at Kate, Vinny, and Gareth. “Good work, people. Very, very good work. I hear we’ve got the girl’s diary as well.”
“Yes, ma’am. Hoping to get the translation back at some point tomorrow,” Kate said.
“Excellent.” She looked down at the other pages in her hand. “Saba Ayeshydi. Tell me what we’ve found?”
Kate clapped her hand over Gareth’s shoulder. “Well done, mate. That was bloody good work.”
The young detective beamed under her praise. “Thanks, Sarge.”
“Saba Ayeshydi, nineteen, married to Ishman Ayeshydi, twenty-eight, haven’t been able to find him to speak to him yet,” Tom said. “But Ayeshydi’s home is spotless. Literally not a hair in there. We think we’ve got her toothbrush for DNA comparison, but I couldn’t be sure it wasn’t a brand new one. It really looked like it hadn’t been touched. Same with her hairbrush. I’d be very surprised if we don’t find out that it’s new as well, and the room’s been emptied to discard any possible evidence she could have left behind.”
“The husband?” Clare clarified.
Tom nodded, as did many others around the room. “It makes sense. For a start, I think he’s the only one with access to go through the room like that. And if so, then why unless you have something to hide?”
“But surely he wouldn’t be stupid enough to do something so suspicious?” Mel piped up.
Clare shot her down. “I’ve seen people do a lot more stupid things than empty a room.”
Kate fought not to snigger. Clearly their breakup had been just as amicable as Mel and Kate’s.
“Besides, while it looks suspicious, we can’t lock people up for suspicious—”
“Unfortunately,” a voice from the crowd said.
“Quite. But nonetheless, suspicion only allows us to ask questions. Find me the evidence we need to lock these people up, if they were the ones involved.”
Murmurs of assent went around the room.
“Right, get me Tariq Ahmed in here and you lot,” Clare said, pointing to Tom and his team. “Find me Ishman Ayeshydi.”
The energy in the room rose as seventy officers set about their business.
“Kate!” Clare called.
Kate met her gaze questioningly.
“A moment.” She indicated her head to the office just behind them.
Timmons was watching her, holding the door open as she nodded. She caught Vinny’s eye and shrugged. He grinned and tapped the face of his watch as she pushed her way through the crowd.
“Ma’am. Sir,” Kate greeted them as she stepped in. The closed door muffled some of the noise from the room beyond, but not all of it.
“That was good work from your team this morning, Kate.”
“Thank you, ma’am.” She stuffed her hands into the pockets of her jeans. “We were just doing our jobs.”
Clare nodded. “I know, but still…well done.”
“I’ll pass that along to the rest of the team. They all did the same.”
“Jesus, Brannon, it’s colder than a witch’s tit in ’ere. Want me to hold your handbags while you scratch each other’s eyes out? Christ.” Timmons said.
“Sir?” Kate stared at him, wide eyed and slack-jawed.
He looked at Clare. “Just get on with it.”
Clare sighed. “Has it been… I mean, this morning, was it…”
“Fuck’s sake. Brannon, it was my fuck-up sticking you with your ex-bird. Didn’t know the history. Do you need a body swap? There’s too much riding on this investigation to fuck it up because you’re uncomfortable working with…well, someone who shit on ya. If you know what I mean?”
Kate did. In his own, completely politically incorrect way, Timmons was worried about her.
“It’s been a difficult couple of days, and I know you must be worried about that lovely girl of yours. Being as she was there yesterday…not to mention Stella…” He glanced out of the corner of his eye.
Was he watching Clare’s reaction? To what? Then she got it, and she bit her lip to avoid smirking at his little game. He was letting Clare know just how well her life was going for her now, in his own little way. Worried and protective. This was why she liked working for Timmons. She knew exactly where she stood with him, and she knew damn well he always had her back.
“I appreciate it, sir, I really do. It has been difficult, but I can be professional. A lot’s changed since I left Norwich.” She looked him directly in the eye. “Best move I ever made.”
He grinned and winked at her. “Couldn’t agree more.” He lifted his head, and nodded towards the door. “Go and bring in Mr Ahmed. Let’s see what he’s got to say for himself.”
Chapter 11
Gina stared, her mind barely able to comprehend what her eyes were seeing. A woman with dark, shoulder-length hair. Finely arched eyebrows twitched over the azure-blue eyes that stared back at her. There were more lines beside those eyes and more grey at the temples than Gina remembered from ten years ago. Even so, Gina couldn’t have denied who was standing at Kate’s door, no matter how much she might have wanted to. It was like looking at her older self in the mirror.
Alison Temple. Her mother.
“I’m sorry. I know this probably isn’t the best time to come, but I just needed to see you were okay.”
Alison… No that didn’t feel right, but neither did thinking of this woman as her mother.
She wrung her hands together as she stood on the doorstep. “I just needed to see with my own eyes.” She reached a hand forward, towards Gina’s cheek, then let it drop as Gina jerked her head back and away from her like she was a snake about to strike. Alison’s…her mother’s…her face fell. “I’ll go now.” She turned.
Gina opened her mouth to speak, but she didn’t know what to say. When she’d fallen pregnant, her father had ordered her to get an abortion. To have her baby—her Sammy—terminated. The woman in front of her had said nothing, done nothing. She hadn’t tried to talk him around, but to be fair, she hadn’t tried to talk Gina around to her father’s position either. She’d simply sat silent as Gina’s father had thrown her out of the house a decade ago. At seventeen, Gina had been all alone and pregnant, with no job, no prospects, and no clue what to do with herself. She hadn’t seen either of her parents since.
It had been less than a week since Kate had met Alison during a case and Alison had asked about Gina. Less than a week since Gina had begun to think about her again, and the relationship they didn’t have. The relationship they’d never had. Gina’s anger at this woman’s inaction when she’d most needed her had driven her to the decision to never allow Alison back into her life—into their lives. She didn’t need the heartache that would come with the discussion they’d need to have, the memories they’d have to rake over.
Gina had enough to deal with, and she was more than happy with the way her life was going right now. She didn’t need Alison Temple’s complications to add to it.
Well, tonight she had the chance to get al
l those negative thoughts out of the way in one epic fuck you to the woman who had abandoned her.
But she hadn’t done that. She hadn’t told her where to go or slammed the door in her face, as she’d pictured herself doing so many times. No, she’d opened the door and let her speak. Why?
It was simple.
Pat.
Gina had listened to Kate read Pat’s beautiful letter last night and wept for the heartbreaking decision she’d made with the best of intentions for everyone involved. She’d had no way of knowing if it was the right decision then and still hadn’t when she had died. But she had loved that baby girl, and George, even if her actions had spoken to the contrary. It was so clear in every word she’d written. There had been no good choices for her to make, so she’d chosen the path where she saw the least harm, the lesser of the two evils she was presented with.
Kate had told her that Alison had fought her own demons in her marriage to Gina’s father. Maybe silence was the lesser of her two evils. Would an explanation really hurt Gina any more at this point? Could anything her mother have to say for herself hurt more than her silence had a decade ago?
“Wait.” Her voice was quiet, little more than a whisper, as her mother—no, Alison—started to walk away. She wouldn’t call her mother. It just didn’t feel right. There was too much unsaid to be able to think of her like that. Too many years had passed, too much pain still to be accounted for before she could accept this woman as her mother. She needed time to get her head around that. Time and an explanation she could understand. This wasn’t the woman she’d grown up with, and Gina sure as shit wasn’t the same little girl who had called her mum. This was Alison Temple. Not mum, not mother—Alison. It was a step forward to thinking of her as bitch, though.
Alison stopped and turned back, the look on her face as hopeful as any Gina had ever seen.
“Would you—” Gina’s voice cracked and gave out. She coughed to clear it and tried again. “Would you like a cup of tea?”
Alison smiled and brushed a tear from her cheek. “I’d love one.”
Gina held the door open and let her mother inside.
“Mum, who is it?” Sammy shouted from the front room, then appeared in the doorway. Her pyjama top was on inside out, and there was a ketchup stain in the middle of her chest. Her hair was slicked back, still wet on top, even though the ends had dried after her bath. “Mum? You okay?” She walked over and tucked her hand inside Gina’s as Gina pulled her into her body and wrapped her arms around Sammy’s skinny frame.
Sammy had never met her grandmother, and Gina couldn’t for the life of her decide how to introduce her.
Tears were running down Alison’s cheeks, tears of guilt, tears of pride, tears of all the years they’d lost—Gina didn’t know. Maybe later she’d find out, but right now Sammy was her focus. She squatted down so she was at the same height as Sammy and nodded. “I’m good, kiddo.” She cupped Sammy’s cheek, and ruffled her hair. “This is Alison Temple.” She turned a little to look at her.
Sammy followed her gaze. “That’s our name.”
Gina nodded and smiled at Sammy’s wide-eyed stare. “That’s because she’s my mum.”
Sammy spun to face Alison fully and looked at her like a bug under the microscope Kate had been showing her how to use. She leant close to Gina’s ear and whispered loud enough for Alison to hear. “She looks like you but old.”
Gina slapped her hand over Sammy’s mouth as Alison barked out a laugh.
“I’m sorry.” Gina said. “Sammy, apologise.”
“What for?”
“For being rude.”
Sammy frowned, clearly confused about what was rude in her statement. “I’m sorry for being rude.”
Alison squatted down. “That’s okay, Sammy. I don’t think you meant to be rude. You just told the truth, didn’t you?”
Sammy nodded and threw her mother a withering look.
Alison laughed again. “I’ll bet you keep your mother on her toes, don’t you?”
Sammy frowned. “She doesn’t do ballet.”
It was Alison’s turn to frown.
“She watched a TV show with ballet dancers in and I had to explain dancing on pointe.”
“Oh, I see. Well, what I meant was that you’re a clever little girl who’s full of fun.”
Sammy grinned. “Yup. That’s me.”
Gina rubbed her hair. “Go and put your top on the right way, and brush your teeth. It’s time for bed.”
“But the film hasn’t finished yet,” Sammy complained.
“You can finish watching it in bed. Go on.”
Sammy sighed heavily and trudged up the stairs.
Gina stood up and went to the kitchen.
“She’s beautiful.”
Gina smiled. “Thank you.” She held up the kettle. “Do you want tea or something a bit stronger? I’ve got a bottle of wine in the fridge.”
Alison smiled. “A glass of wine would be lovely. Thank you.”
Gina opened a cupboard and pulled out two glasses. The white Marlborough was crisp and clean on her tongue as she led Alison into the living room and put the TV on mute. She didn’t turn it off when Sammy was being allowed to watch TV in her room. That was a fatal mistake that led to Sammy watching action movies and staying up to all hours.
“So…?” Gina said.
“Yes. Where to start?”
Gina shrugged and sipped her wine. “I guess that’s up to you. You’re here.”
Alison nodded. “Did Kate tell you? About your father?”
“Which part?”
“Where he is now?”
Gina nodded. “He’s in prison.”
“Did she tell you why?”
Gina nodded again. Kate had given her the details Alison had shared with her. Including the full list of Alison’s injuries at the hands of the man Gina had called “Dad” for so long. “I’m sorry he did that to you.”
Alison shrugged off the comment. “Not half as sorry as I am for what we did to you.” She swiped at the tears again. “Sorry. You don’t want a blubbering mess complaining about everything that happened.”
Gina took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “If you’d come to see me a couple of months ago, I’d have told you where to go.”
“I don’t blame you.” Alison put her glass on the coffee table and started to stand up.
“But a lot has changed in the last couple of months,” Gina continued. “Yesterday I held the hand of a woman who was dying. She told me about a mistake she made and spent her entire life regretting because she didn’t tell the truth. When she died, all she wanted was to set the record straight, but by then it was too late. She’d missed her chance.” Gina sipped her drink, giving herself a moment to get her thoughts in order, to find the words she wasn’t totally sure she felt, but she didn’t want to regret not trying. “I don’t want to die like that. I might not like the truth. I might get angry about it. I might not understand. But unless I know…” She shrugged and sat back in her chair. “I’ve changed a lot, and I want to know what happened. The good, the bad, and the ugly, as they say.”
“You’re sure?”
Gina nodded and sipped her drink.
“You might need more of that.”
Gina smiled sadly. “Kate has a pretty well-stocked wine cupboard.”
“She’s a lovely woman, your Kate.”
Gina couldn’t stop the smile that spread over her lips. She didn’t even want to try. “Yes, she is. I’m very lucky to have found her.”
“She gets on with Sammy too?”
“They’re like best pals.” Gina finished her glass and put it on the table. “Now, stop stalling.”
Alison smirked. “As patient as ever, I see.”
Gina stared. She wasn’t ready for that kind of banter, for that level of easy conversation that resulted in piss-taking and reminiscing. Gina wasn’t anywhere near ready to face that, to accept that kind of relationship with Alison. That was a mother’s privile
ge. Not Alison’s. She hadn’t earned it. Not yet, maybe not ever.
“Sorry that was out of line.” Alison said, obviously seeing Gina’s discomfort. She cleared her throat and started, “When I was a girl, my parents were very strict. Very controlling. But that wasn’t unusual for the time. Far from it. They were older than most of my friends’ parents and always a bit, I don’t know, aloof, maybe. They didn’t really mix with anyone else. Kept themselves to themselves, and there was never any family around. That was unusual. It was just the three of us. I found out after my mum died that it was because they couldn’t have children. They adopted me and moved away from everyone who knew them to keep it a secret. My dad told me while I was helping him box up her things.”
“I didn’t know that.” It was an aspect of Alison’s history Gina had never known. Was it something Alison was ashamed of? Was that why she’d kept it a secret? Or was it simply a reflection of just how estranged they’d been as a family even when Gina had lived at home? She didn’t remember ever really talking to Alison. Not the way some of her friends at school said they could tell their mums anything. Not the way the girls at work had done. They’d never had that kind of bond. She’d never sat at the dinner table and spoken to Alison the way Sammy talked to her. It made her realize just how amazing her relationship with Sammy was. And she vowed right there to make sure that it only ever got stronger. She never wanted to be faced with having this conversation with Sammy in twenty years. Never.
Alison shook her head. “Not something they ever talked about. When I found out like that, when my dad told me, it made me feel like they were ashamed. Keeping it a secret like that all those years.” She sipped her own drink. “I think they were ashamed. Not having children was seen as a failure, especially for the woman. Back then women were wives and mothers. They weren’t career women. They were born and raised to give birth to the next generation. Those unfortunates who couldn’t were ashamed and saw themselves as less than the other women around them. I think my mother felt like that. That she’d failed my dad.” She swallowed. “And I think my dad blamed her. He couldn’t prove his mettle as a man because she didn’t get pregnant.”
The Last First Time Page 13