Tell Me No Secrets

by Lynda Stacey

  Kate looked puzzled and concerned all at once. ‘I really should go back to Mother and see if she’s okay. And, if it’s our day off, who’ll follow Isobel?’

  Ben winked. ‘Don and Eric are watching Isobel today. They have a campervan. Anyone looking at them will think they’re tourists, pulling up to make coffee and sleep. Besides, now that we know Rob could be around, we can’t risk you being on site. And as for your mother, the space between you might be a good thing.’

  ‘Don’t Don and Eric get a day off?’ Kate laughed at the irony. She’d been squashed into the back of a surveillance van that had no air, hot drinks or comfortable seating and on the one day that she wasn’t watching Isobel, they’d not only have coffee making facilities and a proper toilet, but also daylight, windows and soft seating. But if she really thought about it, she didn’t want to watch Isobel, not after the day before, and the thought of doing something other than going home gave her a huge sense of relief. The last thing she wanted to do was to have another battle with her mother, or run into Rob, and the thought of seeing him at Honeysuckle House again tore her in two. She smiled, as the thought of spending the whole day with Ben was more than appealing.

  ‘They only work half day today; surveillance can’t stop just because it’s the weekend. We’ll have different teams working around the clock. So, are you coming? Say yes. Patrick will be waiting.’ Ben smiled. He picked up a folder from the desk, and tossed it in a briefcase. ‘There’s work to do.’

  ‘My face,’ she gasped. ‘I’ve made a mess of my face.’ Kate cringed as she caught her reflection in the glass cabinet. Her nose was bright red, her eyes were puffy and her make-up non-existent. The scar on her face stood out and once again her hand rose to cover it and she turned her face away from Ben’s gaze.

  ‘Okay. Take twenty minutes, get a coffee. Use the bathroom and all that. I’ll meet you in reception at … shall we say, ten o clock?’ Without waiting for an answer he briskly walked out of the room and into William’s office, where Kate could hear him chatting to his father.

  Kate went through to the cloakroom, pulled her make-up from her bag and began the art of hiding her scar. Practice makes perfect and she was good at covering it up, but the puffy eyes were going to take quite a bit of work. She held the towel under the cold tap and applied the cool material to her eyes, waiting for the swelling to reduce. Fifteen minutes later she emerged with her dignity restored and she felt a little happier at the thought of going to Whitby for the day, and the fact that Ben was going too was a huge added bonus.

  ‘Ben tells me you’re going to Whitby?’ William said with a huge grin on his face as Kate walked into reception. ‘I love Whitby. Let’s hope the sun shines for you.’

  ‘Err, thanks.’ Kate felt awkward. William was being nice and she wasn’t sure how much Ben had told him, but by his new smiley mannerisms she got the impression that he was more than aware of everything.

  ‘Oh, and make sure he pays for the fish and chips, on the company,’ William said with a laugh as Ben entered the room, sporting a pair of jeans, boots and a jumper. A coat was casually slung over his arm as he strode toward the reception desk.

  ‘Dad, do me a favour, check on Don and Eric in a couple of hours. If they need any help, get Daniel and Joseph over from Hawes, they’re the closest.’

  Kate watched as William walked to Gloria’s desk, sat down and looked at the screen. ‘Don’t worry. I have the trackers and I can see who is closest. Now, off you go, enjoy the fish and chips and, Kate, make him take you to one of those posh restaurants, not the rubbish back street ones.’ He winked at her and Kate smiled. Maybe working for William wasn’t going to be as scary as she’d thought.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  The wind in Whitby gusted over the cliff tops and right through the abbey car park where Kate stood, waiting for Patrick and Ben to finish talking. She pulled her coat tightly around her, checked her mobile phone and considered texting Rob. But she had no idea what to say to him.

  ‘Okay. Plan is I’m going to ask some questions up there. There’s a lady at the abbey that I’ve known some years. She works in the shop and she’ll know if anything’s been going on in the harbour,’ Ben said as he too grabbed his coat and pulled it on.

  Patrick looked over his shoulder. ‘I’m going to go and speak to some of the shop owners down on the quayside. Shall we meet back here, at the car, at four o’clock?’

  Ben checked his watch. ‘Sure, all the boats should be back in by then. I’ll check them out, ask a few questions. Maybe we could take a tour on one. See what they know.’

  ‘Great. What shall I do?’ Kate asked as she zipped up her coat and rubbed her hands together in anticipation. She looked hopefully between her two associates and waited for them to give her a task.

  ‘You should probably stay with me.’ Ben laughed.

  Kate pouted. She knew it was her day off and she was still in training, but he could have trusted her with a small job to do, it wasn’t like she hadn’t done it before. And after her outburst that morning, she’d really wanted to prove herself. She waved to Patrick. He was back in the car and had already reversed out of the parking space, before disappearing into the distance and back towards the town.

  ‘Come on,’ Ben said as he pulled her along beside him. He was smiling like an overgrown schoolboy. ‘If you’re nice and let me look at the ruins, I’ll buy you those fish and chips.’

  Kate laughed at his enthusiasm. ‘I thought we were supposed to be working?’

  ‘We are. But being undercover means exactly that. We need to look like tourists. It’s called a pretext. We’re here, pretending we’re a couple. Doing things that couples do.’ He paused. ‘So looking around the ruins is allowed.’

  He led the way to the abbey.

  ‘This is the home of The Whitby Gladiator,’ he said, ten minutes later, pointing to a statue that stood in the centre of the courtyard. ‘As well as being the home of Dracula, of course,’ he joked with an over exaggerated and evil laugh.

  ‘Yeah, right.’ She laughed, slapping his arm. ‘You do know that it’s just a story, don’t you?’

  ‘Is that what you think?’ He grabbed her hand and pointed to the harbour. ‘Many years ago, during a terrible storm, an old Russian schooner found its way into that very harbour. A man’s corpse was strapped to the helm.’ He spoke in a spooky voice, stared into her eyes and nodded. ‘It’s true, there was no one else on the ship.’

  ‘So, how did it get to the harbour?’ She looked nervously up at Ben, just as the wind whipped around them, giving Ben a full authentic stage on which to perform. He took great pleasure in going into full storytelling mode, his voice turned spooky, and Kate couldn’t help but laugh.

  ‘The dead man steered it here.’ He pointed to the sands. ‘As soon as the schooner hit the sand, a huge dog jumped from the ship and ran up that cliff.’

  Kate looked at the cliffs that Ben pointed towards. There was a sheer drop to the harbour and there was no way that anything could have ascended it. ‘It’s impossible. No one could get up there, not even a dog.’

  ‘Well, it’s true.’ He nodded. ‘That night the killings began and some say that Dracula is still here,’ Ben teased, grabbing hold of her shoulders and pretending to hide behind her, as he indicated the churchyard that lay in the distance. ‘They say his grave is in there. We could go and look for it if you like?’

  Kate shook her head and shivered at the thought. ‘I don’t think so,’ she replied. She stood looking up at the architecture of the abbey. She’d never been here before and as Ben went into great detail to explain its history, she found the whole story amazing. It was more than obvious that he loved the place and she wondered if he’d ever visited here with his wife.

  ‘Back in ten,’ he said suddenly as he turned and walked into the exhibition, where he headed towards a woman. He hugged her and began chatting.

  Kate turned away; she didn’t want to watch Ben with yet another of his friends and she took
great interest in looking through the cabinets of artefacts that filled the room.

  ‘Come on, let’s go outside,’ he said as he gripped onto her elbow and led her toward the elevator. Once inside he spoke. ‘There, no one can hear us in here. We’re looking for a fisherman called Sharky. He’s got a whole herd of children and has been working strange hours for the past few months, apparently. He’s been seen fishing over the wreck of the San Georgic late at night.’

  ‘What’s wrong with that? He’s a fisherman.’

  Ben pursed his lips. ‘Fishing isn’t allowed there, so if he really was there, he had to be up to no good.’

  ‘Maybe he was lobster potting, or catching a few extra fish. Just because he’s out at night, doesn’t really prove anything, does it?’ Kate asked as the lift doors opened.

  Ben smiled. Kate really was naive, in a good way. Even with all that she’d been through, she still looked at the world with rose tinted glasses. Still wanted the world to tick along without incident, and maybe she was right, it should. It wasn’t her fault, but she obviously had no idea how many hours these men worked, the strict hours that would be dictated by the tides, and if they were to add any more hours on into the night, they’d have to have good reason to do it. And good reasons normally meant lots of profit.

  ‘One other thing: his fishing boat is called the Red Lady.’

  Heading back into the fresh air, they walked back through the ruins and, even though the wind was bitterly cold, Kate loved what she saw. The whole abbey’s remains were so much more than the big pile of old rocks that she’d imagined. There was an old arched stone window that stood overlooking the bay, great spaces where once the glass used to be and the view of sky where once there would have been a roof.

  ‘Wow. I wish I’d been here before, it’s amazing,’ Kate said as she huddled into her coat, pulling it tightly around her as she walked towards the cliff edge and took in the impressive sight of the whole bay of Whitby, its harbour and the sea beyond.

  The rain once again began to drizzle just as they left and they ran for cover as the tiny spatters turned into huge globules of water, falling heavily and then splashing up from the puddles as they ran.

  ‘At least the rain has spared us looking round the gravestones,’ Kate said with a laugh as they hastily, but carefully, ran down the ninety-nine steps and towards the street below, the water following them down the stairway in torrents.

  ‘Mind, the steps are slippery,’ Ben cautioned as he held out a hand to grab Kate’s. He led her onto Henrietta Street, pulled her behind him and ducked into a doorway. Large puddles were forming on the cobbled streets and the smell of smoked fish drifted towards them from a tiny shop a little further along. A medley of cottages stood in long rows, all similar, yet individual. These types of cottages were often seen in tourist pictures, long terraced rows with white washed walls, painted windows and doors, all in bright, vivid colours.

  Kate pulled a handkerchief from her bag, carefully dabbing the rivulets of water as they ran down her face. She pulled out her compact and checked her make-up, making sure that her scar was still covered.

  Ben started walking again and Henrietta Street quickly led onto other narrow, cobbled streets with small galleries, cafes and curiosity shops.

  ‘In here,’ Ben said, quickly pulling her toward one of the shops and ducking through the low wooden doorway. The shop was quaint and sold old-fashioned sweets, all in tubs, symmetrically lining the walls with sweets of all colours and sizes. It reminded Kate of being a child again, searching the shelves for all of her favourites.

  ‘Go on, pick some,’ Ben said, his eyes shining like Christmas tree lights as he scanned the shelves. ‘Look, there are flying saucers, Winter mixture, Bon Bons and humbugs,’ he whispered as he picked up the tubs and handed them to the rotund, grey haired lady who stood behind the counter. She smiled. Her cheeks were as red as beetroot and her glasses reminded Kate of the jewelled ones her great-grandmother used to wear.

  ‘I like liquorice allsorts,’ she said finally, after scouring her way through every shelf for her favourite. She passed the tub across the counter to the lady. ‘They all taste just a little similar, but in reality, you never know quite what you’ll get.’

  ‘Wow, that’s quite a surprise coming from someone with the worst OCD I’ve ever known.’

  ‘I do not have OCD.’ She turned and glared at him. ‘Okay, maybe I do. A little. But I’ve only been this bad since the accident. It made me self-conscious and now I can’t bear anything to be out of place.’ She laughed, poking him in the side and watched as the sweets tumbled into a stainless steel bowl on the weighing scale, before falling from the bowl and into a white paper bag.

  ‘I’ve noticed. Everything with you has a place. You line everything up. Even Don and Patrick have begun tidying their desks since you moved in,’ he retorted as he passed a ten pound note over for the sweets, thanking the lady and telling her to keep the change. ‘I think you’ve scared them into being tidy.’ He poked Kate in the ribs, just as she had to him and pushed a humbug into his mouth, before once more ducking to avoid the low doorway, as they both stepped back out onto damp cobbles.

  Kate was relieved that the rain had slowed down to a spatter and leaned just close enough into Ben that she could reach into his bag and steal one of his sweets.

  ‘Hey, eat your own,’ he grumbled.

  Kate shook her head. ‘Nah, forbidden fruit is much more fun, isn’t it?’ She pointed to the seagulls that were hiding under the eaves of the terraced cottages. ‘You see, it’s much more fun to steal one than to ask for permission.’ She grinned, winked and moved to his left-hand side all at once, before practically skipping down the street beside him.

  Walking over the bridge and down to the quayside, they paid attention to how many fishermen were moored. Some had already brought in their loads of fish, as others tried desperately to sell tickets for rides on the sea. They made promises of great coastline views, sightings of seals, dolphins and other spectacles that would probably never be seen through the rain and sea fog. Ben walked over and discreetly chatted to one of the older fishermen, as Kate pretended to look in a shop that sold everything from Whitby rock through to Dracula capes.

  Did people really buy all of these trinkets?

  ‘This way,’ Ben said as he steered her along the quayside and down some steps towards one of the boats. Before Kate knew it, she was being dragged onto a large fishing boat that was empty, other than the captain.

  ‘Private tour, please,’ Ben shouted as he jumped on board the Red Lady. ‘And some rugs for our legs, if you don’t mind.’

  ‘Ben, no!’ she shouted trying to protest. ‘Couldn’t you do this alone? I’m not sure my sea legs are up to it. Besides, I can see the cliffs from here.’ She pointed to the cliffs and then to the sea, its rolling white water crashing against the rocks at the base of the cliff. ‘I … I don’t much like the water.’

  ‘Where’s your sense of adventure, Kate?’ Ben whispered just loud enough for the captain to hear. ‘Besides, it’s our honeymoon. We have to do something crazy to tell the grandkids, when we have them.’ He flashed her a smile. But, not just any smile, his whole face lit up. It radiated a warmth that Kate had never seen and for just a moment she wondered what it would be like for a man to smile at you like that every day.

  Kate knew that Ben needed to get information about the boats, especially if this boat was the Red Lady that Isobel had mentioned. If the captain was riding the waves at night, they needed to find out why.

  ‘But …’ She looked at Ben, hoping he’d play along. ‘I kind of need to go to the loo. I’m just wishing I’d gone before jumping aboard.’

  ‘We have a toilet on board, miss, just through the galley.’ The captain pointed to the doors that led inside and Kate excused herself, in search of the toilet – and some sleuthing on the way, if she could.

  Back on deck, Kate noticed Ben handing money to the captain, who then went into the cabin, and returned
with two huge fluffy blankets. He placed one on the wet seat for them both to sit on and then carefully tucked the other over both Kate and Ben’s legs, who was still looking excited at the prospect of a boat trip. Kate loved the sparkle that had returned to his eyes, and settled herself next to him. Besides, beyond ending up a new wreck off the east coast, what harm could a boat trip really do?

  She looked up at Ben. ‘How much did you pay him?’ Kate whispered as she pulled the blanket around her. It was clean, fluffy and Kate doubted it would normally be used, not unless the price had been right. The toilets had been spotless, as had the rest of the galley, making Kate think that the boat wouldn’t have been used for fishing in a very long time. For a start, even the deck was clean and tidy. It was painted bright red, with black and white stripes, along with a bright yellow winch on the stern, all looking far too pristine.

  ‘You have a very beautiful wife, sir,’ the captain commented as he tipped his hat, then turned and began to steer the boat swiftly out of the harbour.

  Kate blushed. Ben might have corrected him, but instead he winked at her. He’d already indicated that this was their honeymoon and even with the lack of a wedding ring, it appeared that the captain had believed him.

  With the sound of the wind making it difficult to hear, Ben leaned in close to Kate and whispered, ‘I doubt he gets more than a couple of private tours a day and out of what he earns, he’ll have expenses. You know, the fuel, the harbour costs, etc.’

  ‘Which means he must be making a living doing something else?’ Kate looked over to where the captain stood. He was quite young and easily steered his boat over the waves and around the coastline.

  ‘He probably does other jobs on the side,’ Ben whispered as the boat took a dip on the waves making Kate shriek with nervous laughter.

  ‘Just playing devil’s advocate here, but what if there are no extra jobs?’ she whispered back.

  Ben pondered her question for a moment. ‘Well, he’ll do what he can. Sometimes work is slow. Sometimes it’s non-existent. Men like our captain here would have learnt how to take the good with the bad. It’s like the rain, some people would be miserable and see it as a hindrance, others would take the opportunity to splash and dance through the puddles.’ Ben had replied with a metaphor that Kate knew was directed at her. The past days had been difficult, but Ben was right. She should dance in the rain. She did need to put the bad things behind her. After all, as the saying goes, what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.