‘Nobody can prove it, so why bother to mention it?’
‘Because it matters. Your name will be cleared, I swear, I won’t give up as long as I have breath in my body. Harville might have won for now, but the truth will come out. I promise you.’
‘I’m sorry,’ he said after a pause.
‘What are you sorry for?’
‘Mixing you up in all this. You’ll get done now, for perverting the course of justice, and your life’ll be ruined along with mine. I should’ve got off, that first night, left the area, left the country.’
‘But then we’d never have … Please come in. Please, don’t jump. I’ll never get over it if you do. I love you.’
‘Jen, don’t.’ His voice, which had been full of laconic bravado, now wobbled. ‘You shouldn’t. I’m nothing.’
‘You’re everything,’ she whispered. ‘To me.’
‘I’m a no-good jailbird.’
‘I’ll wait for you.’
‘Don’t wait for me.’
‘You can’t stop me. I’ll wait for you till I’m ninety if I have to.’
There was a pause, then a grudging laugh. ‘I don’t think the sentence is as stiff as all that. Besides, what about a hundred? Is ninety your limit then? Snuff out your ninety candles and then bugger off into the sunset with some old geezer from the pensioner bingo night? I thought you cared about me.’
‘I more than care about you. I love you. Please, come down.’
She saw his feet flex on to tiptoe, then flatten again, then he shifted his weight from one to the other, before finally there was a mutter of, ‘OK. For you.’
And then, thank God, he turned and stepped down from the parapet, back into the little upstairs room, where Jenna waited for him.
She flung her arms around him and he held her close, and both of them had tears in their eyes when the police officers came up and prised them apart.
Chapter Eight
They arrested Jason and, even though Jenna protested that surely there was no need, they put handcuffs on him before they led him away.
‘I love you, Jen,’ he said briefly, turning his head to her at the top of the stairs.
She could only run down after them, then watch, helpless, as he walked slowly but with his head high, along the front path. Passing Lawrence Harville, he stopped to give him a long, wordless look before letting the officers yank him onwards.
Jenna stood on the steps with her face in her hands, trying not to howl with anguish in front of the remaining officers and Harville. At least there were no press here – not yet. That was the one and only silver lining she could find to this huge, overwhelming cloud.
But that small comfort didn’t last. No sooner was Jason out of sight than a gaggle of camera-wielders appeared at the gate. Harville would have called them, of course. He’d want his moment of triumph to be complete.
Suddenly, her hatred was more than she could bear.
She took a few steps down, then ran towards him.
‘Get out. Get off my property. Get out now before I have one of these officers arrest you for trespassing.’
The cameras clicked and the shouts of, ‘Over here, Jenna! Jenna!’ came thick and loud.
Harville was laughing and she was about to take a swing at him when one of the officers, a woman, restrained her.
‘Take it easy, love,’ she said gruffly. ‘You don’t want assault on your charge sheet, too.’
She gaped at the officer, aghast. ‘Charge sheet?’
‘You’ll need to come down the station with us, Ms Diamond.’
‘Myatt. It’s Myatt now.’
‘Ms Myatt, then. We’ll have to charge you with perverting the course of justice. We’ll need a statement.’
‘I haven’t perverted anything! How dare you?’
‘He’s been living here, hasn’t he, all this time? With your knowledge?’
‘I’m saying nothing.’ Jenna whipped out her phone and dialled her London lawyer. ‘Penny, it’s Jenna. I need to talk to you urgently. Can you call me back. Thanks.’
And then she allowed herself to be led away, to be photographed by at least twenty people, climbing in to the back seat of a police car.
‘Tomorrow’s front page,’ she muttered to herself, as they pulled away from the pavement, and left Harville Hall behind.
She refused to talk or make any kind of statement until she’d spoken to Penny, so she was left in an anteroom to stare for aeons at posters about car theft and a helpline for sufferers of domestic violence. The one that drew her eye and wouldn’t let go said ‘Rat On A Rat: Drug Dealers Ruin Lives In Bledburn’. Underneath was a number to call to inform on suspects. Perhaps she could call it, mention Lawrence’s name. She was tempted, but before she could get her phone out of her bag, it rang. Penny.
The conversation was breathless and frenetic, and Jenna could barely take in what Penny told her.
‘You’ll have to take the duty solicitor in with you – obviously I can’t come up from London right now. But, Jenna, say nothing. Just “no comment” all the way through, until we can meet and discuss this properly. It sounds as if they’ll charge you. We’ll talk it about it after that. Can you be in London, tomorrow?’
‘I guess.’
‘Come to my office, then.’
She rang off. Jenna wanted to call her PR people, to warn them, but she’d had her one phone call and now the duty solicitor was here and it was time for the interview.
‘I’ve been advised by my lawyer to make no comment at this time,’ Jenna warned them before she sat down, but they asked the questions anyway.
‘Did you know that Jason Watson was living in your house?’
‘Did you know that he was wanted by the police for drugs offences?’
‘How long has he been sharing a house with you?’
‘Did you know him prior to moving into the house?’
‘What’s the nature of your relationship? Are you lovers?’
To all of these she fired no comments with a dull-eyed resignation until they gave up.
‘OK, Ms Myatt, we’re going to charge you with assisting an offender and perverting the course of justice. You’ll appear before Bledburn Magistrates on Friday, so you’ll need to sort out any bail arrangements before then. You’ll get a letter with dates and times and so forth. You’re free to go.’
‘What about Jason?’
‘He’s in custody. I shouldn’t think he’ll get bail.’
‘Can I visit him?’ She knew she was giving away some of the answers they’d wanted, but she didn’t care.
‘No, I’m afraid not.’
‘Is he here? Where will they take him?’
The officer shrugged.
‘Nottingham, most likely.’
The officer held open the door for her. It was clear that there would be no further questions.
She made it to the door of the police station, then stopped. There were cameras set up on the pavement outside, and a curious crowd had gathered.
‘Excuse me,’ she said to the desk sergeant. ‘Do you have a back or side entrance I could use to leave? It’s a zoo out there.’
The sergeant bit his lip.
‘I shouldn’t, but, just between you and me, I’m a big fan of yours, and Deano’s. Got all his albums. If you could give me your autograph for the kids …’
‘Right. Sure.’
She signed a leaflet about dangerous dog breeds and the sergeant took her to a back door that led into a yard full of police vehicles. On one side, she saw an almost-blank wall with high slits of windows at the top. They must be cells. Was Jason in one of them? She walked over to that side and called his name. He wouldn’t be able to answer her, but if he at least heard her …
‘Jason,’ she called. ‘I’ll get you out of there. I love you. I won’t forget you.’
Then, fearful of being heard by the vultures at the front of the building, she ran quickly out of the yard and up the little side street beyond, in which a taxi of
fice was fortunately situated.
She didn’t want to go back into the house, not now, but there was nowhere else for her to go. She went straight up to the attic and lay down on his old sleeping bag, grabbing the ancient tracksuit he never wore any more, and hugging it tightly to her chest.
She cried until her throat ached and her eyes stung, then she sat up and made dozens of phone calls. Everybody had to be warned about this – all the PR people, the TV bosses, the record company executives, the world and its spouse. And Deano.
‘What?’ Deano sounded as if she’d dragged him from sleep or, more likely, a party, even though it would be about lunchtime in LA.
‘It’s going to be in all the papers tomorrow. It’s probably on Twitter already. I’ve been arrested.’
‘Yeah, you said, but I don’t get it, Jen. Why? You’re straighter than straight. Is this a joke or something?’
‘No joke. I wish. You know I bought Harville Hall.’
‘Yeah, you weirdo. Why do you want to live in the same place as those skanks?’
‘Never mind that for a minute. I moved into Harville Hall and found that I had a lodger. A lodger I didn’t know about.’
‘What? Sounds like something out of a horror movie. How can you have a lodger you don’t know about?’
‘He was hiding in the attic. Turns out he was wanted for various crimes. He’s been found and arrested and I’m accused of harbouring him.’
‘Yeah, but it’s not your fault if … I mean, did you know he was there?’
‘I don’t want to get into the ins and outs of it. The point is, there’s going to be lots of shit about it in the papers tomorrow and I thought I ought to warn you. That’s all.’
‘That’s all? You’ve been arrested and … You’re my wife, Jen.’
‘Until the divorce papers come through.’
‘But, babe, are you OK?’
She swallowed, touched by his unexpected concern.
‘I’m good, Deano. Honestly.’
‘’Cause I can come and be with you, if you want. Support you. You know, like a husband’s meant to do.’
‘Oh, Deano, really, that’s so kind but, no, it’s OK. You can’t just drop everything for a silly blip. That’s all it’ll be. It’ll work out. Penny’s on the case and you know how shit-hot she is.’
I’ll instruct her for Jason. She can take on his case. She’ll win it for him.
The little bubble of much-needed optimism this plan engendered cheered her up just enough to keep Deano sweet.
‘Yeah, she’s good,’ he agreed. ‘Are you sure, though? I can drop everything if I want – that’s the thing about being Deano Diamond. People will fall in line for me.’
‘I know, but they don’t need to. Get on with your life, Deano. I’ll be fine.’
‘You’re still as fucking stubborn as you were when I met you.’
He sounded so fond and exasperated that she was reminded of those early days, that all-absorbing love and that tireless belief in his talent she’d had.
And now she had both of those for Jason. How would he react if he knew that?
‘That’s me, D. Stubborn to the end. Listen, I’ll keep you in the loop, OK? If anything happens, I’ll call you.’
‘You do that. And remember – my offer still stands. Yeah, all right, I’m coming.’ This last was to somebody in the background. Somebody female-sounding. ‘Bye, then, Jen. Keep the faith, babe.’
‘I will. Bye, Deano.’
She held the phone to her cheek, wondering how he would react when the full story came out. When he knew that the arrested man was her lover.
She lay back down with the tracksuit, then Bowyer came to join her and rested by her head, purring and nuzzling as if he understood how desperate her affairs were now.
She lay like that, in the dark, until her stomach rumbled and, even then, she couldn’t bring herself to get up. Jason was gone. Jason was in a police cell, in a paper suit, with the laces taken out of his shoes. Jason was in Nottingham nick, in a cell with God knows who, lying on his bunk, alone in the world.
‘You’re not alone,’ she whispered into the tracksuit. ‘I’ll do anything for you.’
Then she sat up, catching her breath, at the sound of feet on the stairs.
‘Who’s that?’ she whispered to Bowyer.
She crawled across the attic boards and bent close to the trap door, looking down on to the landing. Jason had left a craft knife in his tracksuit pocket and she gripped it tightly, just in case.
The footsteps came closer, stopped on the landing below, then moved into one of the bedrooms, then out, then to another.
She thought of climbing down the ladder, but her legs were shaking so much she thought she might fall. She thought next of pulling the ladder up and shutting the trapdoor, then calling the police, but before she could do this, Bowyer sprang down to the landing and ran, tail high, off down the stairs.
‘Stupid cat,’ she hissed, clenching her fists.
She was about to try and pull up the ladder as quietly as she could when she heard Bowyer make the awful, strangulated sound cats make when they’ve had their tails trodden on.
‘Fuck off!’ a male voice roared.
Lawrence Harville.
She froze for a moment, then made her way down the ladder and on to the upper landing, aiming for complete silence, holding her breath until she had achieved it.
What was he doing here? And how did he get in?
His tread was back, and on the stairs. She had to confront him now. She ran to the top of the staircase.
‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’ she demanded, her fingers wrapped around the handle of the knife in her pocket.
He was disconcerted only for the merest flicker of a second, then his face relaxed into a laconic smirk.
‘Just checking over what I might need to do to the place when it’s mine again,’ he said.
‘You’re trespassing. Get out.’
‘What are you going to do, call the police?’ he asked politely. ‘I’m not sure you’d make what they call a credible witness, now. Not after what you’ve been charged with.’
‘A crime’s a crime, whoever reports it, and you’re committing one. Get out.’
‘Oh, I don’t think so,’ he said, the smile still in evidence. ‘Come down, Jenna. Let’s talk. I’d rather keep things amicable. There’s no need for all this shouting.’
‘I have nothing to say to you except to tell you to give yourself up.’
‘I beg your pardon? Give myself up? What on earth are you talking about?’ There was distinct menace in his tone now, the smile withering at the edges.
‘You’re behind all this. The drugs, Jason’s imprisonment. You set him up. Somehow you’ve got Mia and her friends eating out of your hand, but you can’t keep it up forever, Lawrence.’
‘What utter rubbish,’ he said, his face contorted with anger. ‘He fed you all this, did he? Your jailbird lover?’
‘No, I worked it all out for myself.’
‘Well, better get back to La-La-land, my dear, because you don’t seem to understand the real world. But I can teach you all about it, if you want. Come down.’
‘I’m going to call the police.’
He made a sudden move up the stairs and she tried to pull the knife out but her skinny jeans were so tight she couldn’t wrestle it out of her pocket quickly enough.
He took advantage of her impotent struggling to take hold of her elbow and drag her, yelling and kicking, down the stairs and into the half-decorated master bedroom.
‘Sit down,’ he snarled, pushing her on to the bed. He seemed to think she’d been reaching for her phone and hadn’t bothered to take the knife off her. She fidgeted with it in her pocket, trying to ease it free of its confinement without Lawrence guessing what it was.
‘Why couldn’t you have just been nice to me, Jenna?’ he asked, standing over her. ‘I gave you so many chances, but you kept your distance, every time. I was kind to you
but you threw it in my face. We could have been so good together. We still could.’
She laughed with disbelief.
‘You can’t be serious. I’d rather shag a whole pit full of snakes.’
‘Bravado, Jenna, hot air. Stop lashing out and think. Use your brain, instead of what’s between your legs. You were obviously hot for loser boy, but it would never have worked out, now, would it? Be sensible.’
‘He’s worth a million of you. And I bet he’s better in bed.’
‘Well, shall we find out?’
‘I’d kill myself, first.’
‘No you wouldn’t. Come on. You and Watson – it’s just a mismatch. You and me, though, we understand the finer things in life. We could work so well. And it would mean that you could keep this place. You could do what you liked to it, carry on with all the plans you had. I wouldn’t mind, even though you’ve cut the heart and soul out of my kitchen.’
‘But you aren’t going to get this place back. I’ve no idea why you think that.’ Jenna shook her head at him, all the time trying to make calculations as to her best chances of getting away.
‘Come on, Jen. Bledburn hasn’t worked out for you. You’re up on a charge of perverting the course of justice – you’ll get a hefty fine at the very least, prison time at worst. Just cut your losses and sell up. I can afford to buy it back now.’
Jenna was too furious to speak for a minute, then she managed to grind out, ‘With dirty money, yes.’
‘No comment, as I’m sure your lawyer advised you to say at your interview. You wouldn’t want to be here any more. Have you seen the press setting up camp outside? You’re going to be a virtual prisoner, anyway. Come with me to an hotel and we’ll sort out the conveyancing tomorrow.’
‘What’s the hurry?’
‘What’s the sense in hanging around? Sell up and live with me here or fuck off to London. I don’t really care.’
‘I suspect my bail conditions will involve staying in Bledburn, actually.’
He shrugged.
‘Whatever. It’s your move. Literally.’
‘I’m staying here. And I’m not selling, you can get lost now.’
He took a step closer and, yes, she could get the knife out of her pocket now. She clicked up the blade and brandished it.
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