There was no mistaking the note of panic in Sharon’s voice.
Becky tried to reassure her. ‘It’s quite hard for a member of the public to track down anyone by their car registration number, unless they can provide a good reason for doing that. What makes you think he’s trying to find you?’
‘Someone called the house. Said he was a detective. My boyfriend spoke to him. It was him, I’m sure.’
Becky thought for a moment. ‘Can you hang on for a minute or two, Sharon? I’m going to make a couple of enquiries to see if we can put your mind at rest.’
She turned and called to Lynsey: ‘Can you ask round quickly to see if anyone was tracking a car that belonged to someone called Sharon?’
A few minutes later Lynsey stuck a yellow Post-it under Becky’s nose.
Becky scanned it quickly. ‘Sharon, can I check if your surname is Carter? Because if it is, you really were called by a detective from this office.’
There was a gasp from the other end of the phone. ‘What?’
‘There are no CCTV cameras at the Flash, so we’ve been looking at footage from nearby pub and petrol-station cameras, identifying cars with female drivers or passengers. Your car showed up about half a mile away. I gather it was weaving around a little.’
‘Oh shit. Am I going to be done for drunk driving now?’ she asked, her voice cracking.
‘No, we can’t prove that from CCTV. But you’ve been incredibly helpful. We know what time you passed, and you said it was about fifteen minutes after that when the other car appeared in the car park. Thanks to you we now know it was a larger than average saloon, and that a woman was in the back. That is a huge help. I’d like you to come down to the station, if you would. If you could look at the CCTV footage, you might be able to help us identify the car.’
‘But what’ll I tell Jez?’
‘Jez is your fiancé, I assume? It’s up to you how you handle it, but you might be able to help us catch this man.’
Becky tried to convince her that it was the right thing to do, but Sharon wanted to think about it. She gave Becky her mobile number, though, so at least they could call her without Jez answering.
For the first time Becky felt a slight glimmer of hope. It wasn’t much, but they could check the CCTV footage again in the vicinity for any dark saloons within a much narrower timescale, and then she would call Sharon back and persuade her to come and view the options. Maybe, just maybe, they were finally getting somewhere.
20
As I reach Thea’s car – something small, sensible and white – I see her sitting with her head back, eyes closed, and through a window that has been left open half an inch I can hear the strains of classical piano music. I am almost too embarrassed to disturb her, but she seems to sense me standing by the door.
Her eyes open slowly and she turns to me with a sad smile. ‘Didn’t go well then,’ she says, and it’s not a question ‘Stick your bag in the boot and hop in. We’ll soon get you home, and we can have a glass of something to brighten the end of a dreadful day.’
Tempting as that sounds, the idea of making polite conversation suddenly seems too much, and I wonder if I’ve made the right decision.
‘I expect you’d like to be on your own, really, but sometimes that bit of effort you don’t want to make can take the edge off your unhappiness,’ she says, and not for the first time I am amazed at her understanding.
We set off. Thea’s driving is calm and unhurried, if maybe a little too slow for the good folk of Manchester, and she gets more than one angry glare as someone overtakes, engine roaring. She is unruffled and I gradually feel some of the tension ease, although the ache of unhappiness is just as uncomfortable. Neither of us speaks for the first ten minutes, and I’m beginning to wonder if I’m being rude when Thea breaks the silence.
‘Did you tell Ian where you were going?’ she asks.
‘No. I don’t actually know, so it would have been difficult. But I could barely bring myself to speak to him.’
‘Well, that’s a good thing. At least he can’t come looking for you. Actually, dear, I’d be grateful if you wouldn’t tell anybody you’re staying with us. We had a bit of bother when we took in another young woman not too long ago. She had some problems, and we gave her a temporary home – a bit like you, really. A dreadful little tax man came round asking why we hadn’t declared any rental income. We told him she wasn’t paying us – and of course we don’t expect you to either – but he didn’t believe us. So he started an investigation. It cost us thousands in accountancy fees to demonstrate that we didn’t have a secret account we were hiding money in.’ Thea gives a little laugh, but I can see she’s not amused.
‘I’ve got nobody to tell, so don’t worry about that,’ I say.
She glances at me, and the car momentarily strays towards the centre of the road. ‘Friends?’
‘I thought I had, but based on their behaviour today in the office, I would say not.’ The thought is horrendous. I still have friends in London, and maybe I should think about moving back there. But for now I just need to get my head together. ‘Let’s see if any of them call and apologise for ignoring me,’ I say, with neither hope nor expectation.
‘That might be a problem, dear. We don’t get a mobile signal in the house or the garden. I hope that’s not going to be an issue for you?’
I think about it for all of two seconds. ‘Not at all. Ian can’t pester me, and that has to be a good thing.’ I stay quiet for a few minutes. ‘He wasn’t always so awful, you know,’ I say, as if to excuse my appalling taste in men.
‘Don’t worry. People can hide their true selves until the chips are down, and then we get to see the ugly side. Nobody’s nice when a relationship is ending. There’s a desire to hurt as much as you’ve been hurt yourself, and only the strongest behave with dignity.’ She indicates right without, as far as I can tell, checking her mirror. ‘Having said that, it sounds to me as if Ian is a special case who’s occupying more space in this world than he warrants.’
I’m not sure what she means, but right now any criticism of Ian sounds good to me.
Thea turns and gives me a brief smile. ‘Not far now,’ she says as we turn off onto a wide, leafy road that has been cleared of snow.
It looks as if someone has been out with a shovel in front of each property and everywhere is pristine – a far cry from the slushy mess on the streets close to my home. Some of the houses are impressive in this obviously wealthy area. I should have known that Thea and Garrick were well off, given the way Thea dresses and the wonderful jewellery she always wore at dinner, but I hadn’t imagined anything in this league, and as she turns into a narrow lane I realise that I haven’t seen anything yet. The hedges are high with tall overhanging trees, and the houses I glimpse briefly are set well back from the road. Each and every one of them is amazing.
Thea then turns onto a well maintained but unmade track, and after about half a mile swings onto a gravel driveway. Finally I see the house. It is all I can do not to gasp at the enormous, sprawling white building with black-timbered gable ends, surrounded by undulating snow-covered lawns and neatly trimmed shrubberies. There is no defined shape to the property; it has at least four different roof heights, each with a gable facing in a different direction. The external walls are mainly rendered and painted, although parts of the ground floor are finished in stone, and there are a number of bay windows. It looks as if it may have once been symmetrical, but over the years wings have been added haphazardly. It shouldn’t work, but it does.
‘Wow,’ is the best I am able to offer.
‘We like it,’ Thea says with a hint of pride. I’m not surprised.
I notice there is a garage that will hold about four cars, but its doors are closed and Thea pulls up by what I assume is the main entrance to the house. As I open the car door I am surprised by the silence. We can’t be far from major roads, but there isn’t a sound. I guess the tall trees must act as natural barriers, and after everything I’
ve been through, it is incredibly soothing. It is as if all noise has been deadened by giant earmuffs.
I think Thea can sense I’m slightly overawed, and she becomes brisk and businesslike. ‘Right, we’ll get you inside and I’ll show you where you’ll be living, then we can have that drink.’
I grab my bag from the boot and follow her. There is quite a grand stone portico to our right, but Thea walks around to the left where I see another door, which I presume is the one they usually use.
‘Boots off, please, dear,’ she says as we walk into a narrow entrance hall. There is a shoe rack to the left with nothing on it. I kick my boots off and put them on the rack, cross with myself that the only footwear I have brought is the pair of ankle boots with heels that I was wearing. I’ll just have to go barefoot in the house.
Thea leaves her sensible shoes by the door, slides her feet into a pair of slippers, and I follow her through into a dark, narrow passageway. There are no windows, the only light coming from dim wall lamps, and to my right I see three doors, all closed. To my left is a staircase, and Thea heads for it. At the top of the first flight another door faces us, but we turn away and keep climbing, finally coming out onto a small landing with a tiny window. There are doors everywhere, but Thea moves straight ahead into another long, windowless corridor towards the last room on the left.
‘Here you are,’ she says, flinging the door open and standing back. She’s waiting for my response, and she won’t be disappointed. I look into a beautiful large bedroom with a wide bay window and a fireplace on the opposite wall. Despite the overwhelming use of pink, it is stunning, and I turn to her and shake my head.
‘Am I really sleeping here?’ I ask, and she laughs.
‘Come on, I’ll show you the rest of this floor. You’ve got it all to yourself.’
I dump my suitcase and follow her out. There’s another smaller bedroom next door, then an amazing bathroom with an old fashioned roll-top bath in the centre.
‘This is the snug,’ Thea says as she shows me a small alcove off the hall. ‘Nice and cosy, but you can use this sitting room if you prefer,’ she says, opening the door to another huge room decorated with wallpaper covered in more huge pink roses. It’s a bit flowery for my taste, but so much more than I expected. ‘And finally, the kitchen.’
I’ve got my own kitchen. I can’t believe it. I noticed this top level when we arrived. It only extends over about half of the floor below, and yet it is bigger than the whole of my house, and the kitchen is so well equipped. I have no idea what to say.
‘Make yourself at home, won’t you?’ Thea says with a smile. ‘There’s just one thing. I mentioned to you that we don’t want people to know you’re staying, if you remember – we don’t want another inspection.’ She shudders dramatically. ‘The cleaning staff come in each morning, but they’re not allowed up here. I’m sure you don’t mind keeping this part of the house tidy, do you?’
‘Of course not. I’ll do any cleaning here – or in the rest of the house – or cooking, or anything I can do to help.’
Thea smiles. ‘It’s very kind of you, but that won’t be necessary. We must make sure the cleaners aren’t aware that you’re here, though, so I hope you don’t mind if I lock the door at the bottom of the stairs in case you forget that you’re not supposed to come down. I think it’s for the best.’
21
I know that locking the door at the bottom of the stairs makes some sort of sense, but what would happen if there was a fire? I was about to ask if she would consider leaving it unlocked and I would pin a note on it to remind me not to go down, but she turned to leave.
‘You settle yourself in. I’ll come back up and collect you in about an hour and take you to see the doctor. He keeps to himself a lot of the time, although he still sees a few patients in his study so you might hear some talking. Obviously his study is out of bounds. Help yourself to anything you want in the kitchen. It’s all there for you.’
Before I could thank her and ask about the door, she was gone. Since then I’ve been trying to take it all in. She was right about the phone – there’s no signal, and no Wi-Fi either, but as I’m not working and nobody seems to want to speak to me, I can’t see that it matters much.
Unpacking takes about five minutes, and then I wander from room to room. I haven’t brought any books with me, but in the area Thea called the snug there is a bookcase full of all kinds of paperbacks, and I select one at random. The sitting room has a TV, but it doesn’t seem to be working and I can’t possibly ask them to get it fixed. I managed without TV on a cruise up the Irrawaddy for a couple of weeks, so I’m sure I can cope here.
There is something soporific about this place, with its silence and isolation, and when I have run out of places to explore and things to do I decide to curl up on a sofa, not expecting to fall asleep – I have too much on my mind – but I feel an overpowering need to close my eyes.
I am woken by the sound of footsteps in the corridor. Thea has come back to take me downstairs for that promised glass of something. I do hope it’s not sweet sherry, which seemed to be her drink of choice on the boat, but to be honest I would drink neat rum if they asked me to, given all they’re doing for me.
‘Are you settling in?’ Thea asks, her head on one side as if there might be some doubt.
‘I don’t know what to say. I’m blown away by the whole place and your kindness and generosity. I promise to sort myself in a couple of days and be out of your hair. I don’t want to take advantage.’
‘Oh nonsense. I like having you here. As I said, we’ve helped other people before. The doctor says I’m always on the lookout for waifs and strays, and it will be good to have you around. Come on. Let’s get you downstairs.’
I know my way back to the staircase by now, but I take a step back to allow Thea to take the lead. We go down to the first floor, where the door is still closed.
‘These rooms are our private sleeping quarters. So I would be grateful if you would respect our privacy. I’m not going to give you a tour of that area.’
‘Of course! I wouldn’t dream of invading your space.’
Thea smiles. ‘Well, it’s a big enough house for us all to have plenty of room to ourselves, and we have no expectations of you. We’re very happy for you to stay in your rooms or join us for the occasional meal.’
That has clarified things for me. They are being more than generous, but I’m not a house guest in the normal way. I won’t be eating every meal with them, which I suspect means I will have to work out where to shop for my food.
Once more, it is as if Thea has read my mind.
‘We put in a regular order for shopping and get it delivered. I have long ago given up any desire to stand in supermarket queues, so if you give me a list of what you’d like, I’ll order it for you. I normally cook too much for us, so I can let you have something to heat up every now and again.’
‘That’s so kind of you, but not necessary. I don’t mind cooking. I’ll cook for you, if you like?’
I am not entirely sure how I’m going to pay for food from the kind of supermarket that I suspect Thea uses, and I ponder this as we make our way down to the ground floor. She hasn’t responded to my offer to cook, probably assuming I’m as useless at that as I seem to be at everything else in my life. We walk back past the entrance, where my boots still sit in the shoe rack, and along another narrow corridor. I don’t think I have ever seen so many doors in a house, and every one of them is closed.
‘This door on the left leads to our kitchen. The doctor’s study is accessed via a separate corridor leading from there, and it has its own outside entrance. I don’t think there will be any need for you to go into the kitchen, but if there is I’d be grateful if you resisted the temptation to explore further.’
I am beginning to feel slightly uncomfortable about all these instructions. I would never dream of poking my nose in where it isn’t wanted, but maybe they have had guests before who didn’t know how they should behave
.
All other thoughts are driven from my mind as we walk into a huge reception hall, obviously accessed from the main entrance. I can see the solid-wood front door to my right, and the space is flooded with light, in stark contrast to the hallways. To the left is a semicircular bay window looking out over a lovely rose garden. There’s nothing in bloom at this time of year, and the bushes are no more than bare, spiky branches, but I can only imagine how it will look in late May or early June.
‘It’s beautiful, isn’t it?’ Thea says, her voice soft. She sounds almost sad, and I turn towards her. ‘It’s new. We only planted it a few months ago, and I can’t wait to see it in full bloom in the summer. It has special significance to us. It looks so forlorn at this time of year, though.’
It must have been planted to celebrate some major event in their lives – perhaps an anniversary – and I give Thea a gentle smile and turn back towards an open doorway leading into what I imagine they would call the drawing room. I can see the doctor, sitting on a dark red leather chesterfield, nursing what appears to be a large brandy.
Thea walks into the room ahead of me. ‘Look who I’ve brought to see you, dear.’
He looks up, and I notice that his eyes are slightly vacant, as if his mind was somewhere else, but like the gentleman he undoubtedly is, he pushes himself to his feet to take my hand. ‘Welcome, Judith. It’s good to have you with us.’
For a moment I’m taken aback by his greeting, and I’m about to open my mouth to speak when I see Thea give me a hard stare and a quick shake of the head, so I hold my tongue.
The doctor is still speaking. ‘Come and take a seat, my dear. Thea, would you like your usual?’ he asks, walking towards a silver drinks tray holding various decanters, each of which contains a dark brown liquid. He pours her a drink and hands it to her. ‘What about you, Judith? What will you have?’
He indicates the array of decanters in front of him, but I don’t know what to say. I glance at Thea again, and she’s watching me. I have a funny feeling it’s a test.
Come A Little Closer Page 9