by Daisy White
It’s way past time I told her. The words rush out as I explain about Will, how he keeps appearing and bringing gifts, how I can’t see a way of getting rid of him, even though he makes me uncomfortable. Finally I tell her about DS Appleton and his threats.
She says nothing for a while, just watches me carefully, considering my words. Then she crosses over to my bed and sits next to me, hugging me close.
For some reason I can’t stop the tears pouring down my face, and she shushes me like she does Summer, pulling my head onto her shoulder. We stay curled on my bed for what seems like ages, before I look up and meet her kind blue eyes. “Sorry, I’ve soaked your nightdress now!” I manage a weak laugh and she grins at me.
“Ruby, sweetheart, you should have told me earlier! About Will, I mean. I can’t believe he’s still around. I never thought . . .” She trails off, biting her nails. “And this bastard policeman actually mentioned him by name?”
“Yes. I don’t know Will’s surname but I guess it’s Blakely. I told you I think he lies about his work. He has so much money, and I really hope that scarf wasn’t down to a five-finger discount. But what else can I think? I just can’t believe Appleton dared to threaten me when we were actually inside the police station!”
“You’ll have to get hold of Will and warn him. Do you have a telephone number for him?”
I think of the little scrap of paper he passed over at our last meeting, pressing it into my hand, reiterating that I was only to call if I was in danger.
Mary is chewing a thumbnail now. “What about this John Stocker? Will Inspector Hammond go after him, do you think?”
“WPC Stanton will tell him even if DS Appleton says nothing, so I think he will, but if he wouldn’t talk ten years ago, and he is really behind all this, why should he talk now?”
Mary yawns. “Because his wife is dead? I’ve just had a thought, as well. Didn’t you say the Stockers had no children of their own? Maybe they just took someone else’s child and it’s as simple as that.”
“It’s possible, I suppose, but then why Beverly’s child, and why go to all that trouble of setting her up to make it look like Ella had died?”
“I don’t know. My head is hurting, Rubes. I think we need to sleep on it. The main thing is that Ella will be back with her mum very soon, even if she doesn’t recognise her. And we need to get rid of Will, of course, but we’ll think of something.”
When she has settled down I creep over to the windows. The rain is still pouring down, but I sit for a long time, watching the darkness.
* * *
After a long day at work, I meet Kenny as planned at Brenda’s and we take a walk along the promenade.
“So what is it that you wanted to tell me? Please say it’s an ace story, because my editor just got ditched by his fancy piece and he’s in a hell of a mood,” Kenny tells me as we dodge other walkers and a group of children with a ball.
“It’s a perfect story. You need to write it all down. Let’s stop a minute.” We lean on the railings, staring out to sea.
Finally I start speaking and Kenny scribbles, his notebook balanced on the top rail. He asks questions, gently prompts me when I forget things and finally snaps the book shut.
“So what else has happened that you don’t want in the paper?” he asks.
I smile at him, and explain my theory about Ella, and how it all leads back to the Stockers. I also tell him about DS Appleton’s reaction when I started getting too close to what could be the truth.
Ken covers my hand with his and squeezes my fingers gently, but his eyes are blazing with fury. “That bastard! I can’t believe he dared to do that when the inspector could have come back at any time.” He pauses, then adds lightly, "What else is bothering you?”
“Are you a mind reader now, too?”
“No, I hate all that stuff,” he reminds me, “I just know when you’re upset. Actually, if you really want to know, I’ve been a bit worried about you for weeks now. You’ve been edgy and you keep looking over your shoulder when we’re out, like you’re expecting someone to jump out of a dark corner.”
I sigh. Kenny’s a reporter, but I trust him absolutely. Compared to everything else that is going on, Will is little more than an annoyance, but I tell Ken anyway.
“I had no idea he was still hanging around. Hell, Rubes, you do like your secrets, don’t you! So do you think he might be connected to the Collins case?”
“No. No I don’t, but he’s doing something illegal and this DS Appleton knows it. This could be a way of blackmailing me and keeping me off the Stocker/Collins case.”
“Right.” He offers me a cigarette and I fumble with a match to light it. “I will do this story as Beverly is happy with it. This is an incredible happy ending and everyone will love it. Meanwhile, we’ll decide what to do about everything else. I suppose nobody has mentioned Beach Girl in connection with the Stockers?”
“No. Mary and I are going to take Summer to see her on Friday evening, just to see if she’ll say anything. She did seem to show a bit of emotion when she looked at the baby. Perhaps she has younger siblings? It might be a way of getting through to her.”
“Maybe you should also take Beverly and Ella to visit her?” Kenny says suddenly, stubbing out his cigarette, grey eyes sharp with intelligence.
“Why?”
He shrugs. “Just a hunch. Reporters get them sometimes. But Beverly might not be keen.”
I smile at him, “Thanks, Ken.”
“No sweat. Oh, and if you need a lift up there, I can probably squeeze you all into the car. It’s quite a walk, and I’m not working. It might be easier for Ella too — I imagine it's going to be hard for her adjusting to life as Beverly’s daughter.”
For once, exhausted by the events of the previous two days, I fall into a deep sleep as soon as I crawl into bed. Amazingly, Summer sleeps through until five again and Mary is almost in tears of relief.
“I think she’s going to be alright now.”
“I think she is, and you are too,” I tell her seriously, over our morning tea and toast.
I rush out to get the Herald before work and Ken has done a great story, with just the tiniest hint that the story isn’t over yet. The photograph Beverly gave me for him to use is one of the old ones from when Ella was little. It’s a beautiful picture of a happy young mum cuddling her toddler.
For a couple of long, hot days nothing happens. We work hard and baby Summer sleeps well. Mary is slowly recovering from whatever it was that caused her odd mood swings. Good things are happening, but there is a lot we still don’t know. Beverly telephoned to report that she has collected Ella and they are both living at Aunt Sarah’s post office in Rottingdean. She still doesn’t know Beverly as her mum, and she won’t say anything about where she’s been.
She has agreed to a trip over to Alice’s Farm on Monday evening, but seems to have temporarily lost interest in how Ella came back, or where she has been. I can understand that the joy of having her daughter back has overshadowed everything else, but Stocker and Appleton, not to mention Will, are niggling away at the back of my mind. I tried telephoning Inspector Hammond, just to make sure WPC Stanton passed on my message, because Appleton sure as hell won’t have done anything except cover his own tracks. But the inspector was apparently ‘in a meeting,’ so I have no idea whether he is working on the Stocker idea or not.
It makes so much sense that Stocker would have had a policeman in his pocket. Even without the blackmail, he could have manipulated the evidence any way he liked. That jar of jigsaw pieces is nearly full, I can tell. I just need the last few pieces before I can put together the complete picture.
When Kenny calls after lunch to suggest an impromptu night out, I accept with enthusiasm. He adds, “So it's happy families for Miss Collins now? I don’t suppose Ella has started talking yet?”
“No,” I sigh. “Maybe she won’t and we’ll just never know where she’s been.”
“Boring. Anyway, I was actually
calling to see if you wanted to come out tonight, not to catch up on your investigation. James and I are going to the new coffee bar on Middle Street. There’s a party afterwards too.”
“I’d love to. Can I just check Mary is OK with that and call you right back?”
I cup my hand over the receiver. Mary is coming out of the backroom laden with towels and I take a deep breath. Surprisingly, Mary agrees I should go out.
“I’ll be fine, honestly, and Summer is being so much easier now. I might even put her down a bit early and catch up on some reading.”
I smile fondly at her. Encouraged by Eve, Mary has started taking books out of the library now she has discovered where it is, and has great piles of romance, history, and horror stories stacked by her bed. Now when the baby cries and she can’t soothe her, the idea is that Mary should put her back in her crib and read a book just outside the door. Catherine says she did the same with her youngest because he used to drive her mad screaming all night. I could almost hear Mary sigh with relief at that particular admission.
Turning back to the phone I tell Kenny I’ll meet him at seven at the new bar.
“Great. The bar’s called Smuggler’s Kiss, and it’s right at the top end. It’ll be me and James, Ted I think, and maybe Victoria.”
“I thought she and Pearl were deep in exams at the moment.”
“They are, and Pearl has vanished until they are finished, but Victoria only lasted a week. Now she says she needs to get some fun in between her exams or she won’t pass!” Kenny is laughing.
Catherine finishes her cut and follows me out to make the tea. The charts in the backroom are still covering one whole wall. But with numerous complex diagrams leading to everyone we know who is connected to the case it looks more like a tangled ball of wool than anything we could use to find a kidnapper.
“What are you going to do now? I suppose as Ella is found you can close the case,” Catherine says, getting the bottle of milk and adding sugar to three cups.
“Are you ladies going to do any work today or have you turned my salon into HQ again? Customers in five minutes and I’ve got three brides in, one after the other before we close,” Johnnie calls back.
“Three? You never have.”
“I do, I’m afraid. That big salon in Hove, I can’t think what it’s called, but apparently they had a water leak and the place is flooded, so everyone is coming here instead.”
“Johnnie, you are such a hero to help out!” Catherine says sarcastically. “Seriously, though, that is going to be a bit of a stretch.”
“With you fabulous people on the case, I’m sure we can manage.” Johnnie smiles serenely. “I also found time to do the final paperwork for our two genius apprentices. This is your last couple of months as moonlighters. As of the fifteenth of October, you two start working properly!”
“Thanks Johnnie!” I’m pleased to be starting off on getting proper qualifications and I do love working in a salon. If I’m honest, it’s more than the gossip and that I can run investigations out of the back room, I just can’t see myself doing anything else. I feel settled here, and Johnnie is the best employer ever. He rents us our bedsit for free, lets Mary have time off for the baby and joins in with murder investigations and ten-year-old kidnappings.
Mary starts shampooing as another couple of clients come in, and I drag out the boxes of nail varnish for our brides to choose from. Catherine is quickly setting out trays of combs and hair pins and straightening the chairs. Today’s copy of the Brighton Herald lies open on the little table next to the window, and I glance at the inky columns as I straighten the magazines.
A small piece of text, heavily outlined and slightly blurred, catches my eye.
EVA AND HECTOR TO PERFORM AT OPENING OF THE SMUGGLER’S KISS
Brighton favourites, magician Hector Alonso and his assistant Eva will be performing an act at the opening of new coffee bar, The Smuggler’s Kiss. Owner, Mr Jon Hayward says, “We are delighted that such a successful and well-known act is coming to the launch of our new business.”
Well, that won’t please Kenny, I think, feeling a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. I’m surprised he wants to go, but I wouldn’t mind catching up with Hector and Eva myself . . .
Chapter Twenty-One
The evening is hot and muggy and I pull on a short blue dress, and add my favourite ballet flats. As usual I spend ages smudging black lines around my eyes, and add a pale pink lipstick before frowning at my reflection.
“You look lovely!” Mary says encouragingly. “Oh, I forgot to tell you, Ted called at the salon. He can’t make it tonight, but he did say he would just have time to pop in and see Summer and I before he goes to work. He’s driving to Rye with a load for the morning markets, and he wants to get the extra money because he’s saving for a flat.”
“Oh, I thought Kenny said Ted might be out tonight?”
“He was going to, but he said that he didn’t really feel like it, and then this job came up. He’s still really suffering after Linda, you know, Rubes,” Mary says seriously.
I study her for a moment, pretending to check something in my purse. She does look happier, more relaxed. Her blonde hair has been neatly trimmed by Catherine, and she’s changed out of her uniform into a pretty pale green dress. Her feet are bare and her long tanned legs stretch out across the floorboards as she plays with the baby.
“Tell Ted I’m sorry he can’t make it.” I take a risk. “He is so sweet with Summer, isn’t he?”
Mary looks up and grins at me, flushing slightly. “Yes, he’s great with her. But you know Ted, he’s always been a sweetheart with all of us.”
I say nothing more, but metaphorically keep all my fingers crossed. You can’t match people up, but a little hoping never hurt. “OK. See you later. I’ll be back by half eleven, and you know where I am if you need me.”
“We’re fine and you look beautiful. Go, Rubes!”
I clatter down to the front door and out into the muggy warmth of the evening. Families are still laid out on the beach, and groups of kids are being herded back up the road by irate parents. A few teenagers are off on a night out, and as I walk over to the Smuggler’s Kiss, I catch a glimpse of Will, standing a little ways away from the small group forming at the bar’s entrance. He’s smoking and flicking through some papers.
I take a breath. “Hey you. Don’t tell me you’re actually going on a date?”
He grins at me, pushing his dark hair away from his face, chocolate and amber eyes fixed on mine. “No chance, Miss Baker. I came to give you these. A few bits of research for your case. I had some spare time yesterday after we spoke . . . Anyway, I have to go. Have a good evening.”
I take the papers and fold them neatly into my purse. “Thanks, Will. Listen, I need to warn you. Do you know a policeman called DS Appleton?”
I study his face as he answers, but he seems genuinely surprised, and wary. “No. Why?”
“He was one of the original coppers on the Collins case and Hammond brought him back when Ella was found. He told me to keep my nose out of the Collins case and he mentioned you. Will Blakely, he said.”
“Hell. Thanks for the warning. I’ll find out what the bastard is up to.”
“Are you sure you can’t stay?”
He glances around, a hunted expression on his bony face. “Not a good idea. Later, Ruby.”
Then he’s gone, and I light my own cigarette and wait for my friends.
“Hey Rubes, are you ready? You look stunning.” James appears from the crowd, with Kenny close behind.
I say nothing but point towards a big lurid poster outside the new venue announcing Hector and Eva’s magic act.
“He knows. But they aren’t coming,” James explains.
“How do you know?”
“They skipped out of town, cut their run at the Hippodrome short and just went off one night. The manager was furious. He signed them for a three-month run and now he’s only got filler acts until October,” Kenny
says, offering me a cigarette.
“They’ve actually gone? Do you know if the police spoke to them?”
The boys shake their heads, and James tells me the magical pair left town last week.
“Just after Ella was found.” I bite my lip. “What a coincidence.”
We start walking towards the entrance, jostling with the crowd, hearing the burst of live music from somewhere inside.
“By the way,” Kenny says, raising his voice above the excited chatter, “this place used to be owned by a local businessman until last year.” He waits expectantly.
“John Stocker?”
“Bang on. You do have a few brains in there, Rubes.”
The band is great, and inside the Smuggler’s Kiss it’s hot and dark, smelling of salt and cigarettes. It reminds me a bit of the Starlight Rooms, but with a bit more space to sit down. There's a jukebox and some tables at one end, and a stage on the other side. A bar has been set up in another room and people are wandering back and forth with pints of beer. I inhale the familiar waft of sweat and cheap perfume. Even when I’m an old, old lady, I hope I’ll always associate that particular combination with long summer nights out.
Victoria turns up late and in a bad mood. “Bloody Jack couldn’t make it. I think I’ve had enough of him. This is the third time he’s called me at the last moment to rearrange.”
“Poor Jack.” Kenny tilts his beer bottle back and takes a long swig. “You can’t ditch him already, you’ve only been seeing him two weeks.”
She flicks back her long blonde hair, her expression stubborn. “I can do whatever I want and I don’t like being messed around.”
Alice, the reporter from the Herald, also turns up just after ten, and smiles at all of us before giving James a kiss. I assume she is now his girlfriend, judging by the fact that their hands are entwined and the kiss was right on his lips. Alice, for all her confidence and sharp-faced bravado, looks nervous tonight. Her short orange skirt has a massive brown leather belt almost bigger than the skirt itself. She didn’t seem that bothered about us when I saw her at the Hippodrome, but maybe now she’s dating James she feels the need to ingratiate herself with his friends.