The White Shepherd

by Annie Dalton

  Anna had lived among the mentally damaged at a time when she herself was damaged, and she knew that somebody’s insane delusion, if it was presented with absolute belief, could completely rock your sense of what you thought you knew to be real. Eve’s twisted version of Laurie, undoubtedly tainted by sexual jealousy, not to mention rabid homophobia, was nevertheless causing Anna to doubt, very slightly, her own instinctively sympathetic response to him. But, much as Anna would have liked to write Owen’s assistant off as a mad, malicious old woman, she found that she couldn’t, not completely. In amongst Eve’s wild accusations, Anna had detected a disturbing ring of truth.

  By the time she had finished drying her hair, she had thought of someone who could help her get her facts straight. Kit Tulliver knew the Trahernes, so by association he probably knew Eve. He’d written a book about Owen. He should know, if anyone knew, if there was any truth in what Eve had told her. She found Kit’s card in her study where she had left it and rang his mobile.

  He didn’t answer right away, which gave her too much time to ask herself what she was actually hoping to gain by getting in touch with Kit. Was she trying to compensate for what had happened – or rather what hadn’t and couldn’t happen – with Jake? She was still anxiously pondering this when Kit answered in a slightly muffled voice.

  ‘Anna!’ he said warmly when she’d introduced herself. ‘What a lovely surprise! Could you just hang on a sec? I seem to be inadvertently talking through a towel. Ah, that’s better! I was only thinking about you a few minutes ago and thinking that I must get in touch. Are you still in Oxford?’

  ‘Yes, still in Oxford.’ She had forgotten how warm and funny Kit could be. She could feel her lips curving into a smile as she pictured him trying to talk through a towel.

  ‘I’ve just come back from a long tedious day in London where I got totally soaked. Hence the towel,’ he added, ‘in case you were wondering. I hope you’re calling to arrange for us to meet up?’

  ‘In a way,’ Anna said. Kit’s direct style of flirting was making her blush. ‘At the book launch, you said I could talk to you, if I felt I needed to.’

  ‘About Naomi.’ His voice became serious. ‘Yes, of course, and I meant it.’

  ‘Well, this isn’t about her directly, but it is kind of connected with her.’

  ‘OK, let me think for a minute. I’ve literally just walked in through the door, so I’m in urgent need of dry clothes and a hot meal. Could you meet me in Browns, say, in about half an hour? We could have drinks and something to eat?’

  ‘OK, yes, I’ll see you there.’ Half an hour. She was still wrapped in a towel! Bonnie would have to miss her second walk, Anna thought guiltily. She felt slightly giddy. Kit had given the impression that he’d been having a really bad day until she brightened things up with her phone call.

  Anna put on fresh make-up and dressed with care. She gave herself a swift head to toe glance in her full-length mirror and felt satisfied with the overall effect. Her narrow black trousers, cropped to the ankle, looked good with her short leather jacket and simple black flats. She left her hair loose, wound a soft grey pashmina around her neck and set off to drive into the city through the rain.

  Everything had been arranged so quickly, there hadn’t been time for Anna to be nervous, but at some traffic lights she had a moment of cold panic. Would Kit Tulliver have been so charming if he’d known that Anna had recently had a complete meltdown on Isadora’s doorstep? Jake had seemed to take it all in his stride, but would Kit? Stop it, she scolded herself. You’re just going for a meal with a nice man.

  Kit had reached Browns before her and secured them a table. He spotted her coming in and rose from his seat, kissing her lightly on both cheeks. ‘Well, you’re worth waiting for!’ he said with warm approval.

  You too, Anna thought. He looked – and smelled – wonderful.

  Kit had already ordered them a bottle of red, and Anna let him fill her glass. ‘Only one,’ she told him, ‘since I’m driving.’

  ‘I need meat,’ Kit announced, scanning his menu with comical ferocity. ‘I’m hankering for some kind of medieval Robin Hood dish, but I’m not confident of my chances.’

  ‘You could have the wild boar and chorizo burger,’ Anna suggested. ‘That’s almost medieval – if you pick out the chorizo and throw away the brioche bun. And the pea shoots. And the rocket salad,’ she added. ‘You’d be extremely hungry, but I imagine Robin Hood and his Merry Men went to bed hungry all the time.’

  Kit laughed. ‘You’re more subversive than you look!’

  ‘Am I? So exactly how subversive do I look?’ she asked demurely.

  He glanced down at his wine for a moment, then looked directly into her eyes. ‘I think my answer would depend on how closely I investigated,’ he told her, straight-faced.

  ‘Damn all you Oxford men and your academic rigour,’ she said, laughing, but for the second time that day she felt her cheeks go rosy.

  A girl came to take their order. Anna chose the crab linguine. Kit went for pork belly and mash with apple brandy. The girl went away smiling to herself. You could tell that Kit had charmed her to within an inch of her life. Anna knew how that felt. She was spending the evening with an attractive and available man; a man who made it clear that he was equally attracted to her. Everything about Kit Tulliver was so easy, she thought gratefully as she allowed him to pour her another half glass of wine to drink with their meal. ‘So what’s happening with the movie?’ she asked. ‘Is it all going ahead?’

  ‘So my agent tells me,’ Kit said cheerfully.

  ‘And is it true they’re signing Liam Neeson to play Owen?’

  He laughed. ‘Ah, that’s interesting, I hadn’t actually heard the Liam Neeson rumour. Last thing I heard they were trying to get Daniel Day-Lewis for Owen and Scarlett Johansson was being put forward as the perfect choice to play Audrey.’ He gave a rueful laugh. ‘In other words, Anna, your guess is as good as mine. I’m just the writer, after all, so I’ll be the last to know!’

  Slightly intoxicated by this conversation, Anna ate her meal almost without noticing. When the dessert menu arrived, she tried to refuse, but Kit insisted on ordering profiteroles to share. ‘Bring two spoons,’ he told the girl with a grin. ‘We’ll start at opposite ends and duel it out! Oh, and two espressos.’

  ‘Not for me, thanks.’ It was the first time he’d put a foot wrong, but it had jarred.

  Kit must have heard the sudden frost in Anna’s tone because his smile faded. ‘Sorry, am I being one of those annoying alpha males?’ Reaching across the table he gently moved a strand of Anna’s hair from her cheek. ‘It’s just that I can’t help wanting to look after you. Also,’ Kit added with his disarming grin, ‘I did genuinely think you would want coffee!’ And his grin, together with the pleasant frisson from that fleeting physical contact, instantly banished her irritation.

  ‘So what did you want to ask me about Naomi?’ he said when they were alone again.

  Though it was for exactly this reason that Anna had got in touch, she immediately felt tongue-tied. By this time their meal had taken on the flirty ambience of a successful first date. To bring up her concerns now felt tasteless to say the least. But while Anna was reluctant to ruin what had been until now a very pleasant evening, for Laurie and Naomi’s sakes she had to finish what she’d started. She took a breath. ‘When we spoke at the launch you were concerned that Naomi had got herself mixed up with the criminal underworld and that she was possibly killed because of that.’

  He nodded. ‘I remember.’

  Anna felt her nervousness growing, but there was no going back now. ‘It’s just that a few things have happened recently to make me wonder if Naomi’s killer might have been someone a bit closer to home.’

  Kit sat back, still holding his coffee cup. If anything he seemed to become more relaxed and attentive. ‘I see,’ he said, ‘or rather, I don’t quite see yet, but please do go on.’

  She swallowed. This was proving harder than she
’d thought. ‘So much has happened over the past few days. I don’t really know where to—’

  ‘Start wherever it makes the most sense to start,’ he said sympathetically, and Anna had a sudden flashback to the police interview room with Inspector Chaudhari on the morning of Naomi’s murder.

  ‘OK,’ she said, trying to think, ‘then I’ll start with finding Laurie’s bouquet on Port Meadow.’

  She heard Kit draw a sharp breath. ‘Did you say Laurie?’ He made an apologetic gesture. ‘Sorry, I was brought up never to interrupt, but if you’re talking about Laurie Swanson, who has just—’ He passed his hand across his face. He looked almost ill with distress.

  ‘I’m afraid I was talking about that Laurie, and now I’ve upset you. I’m sorry.’

  ‘No. Well, yes,’ Kit corrected. ‘It’s always upsetting, obviously, when someone you know kills themselves, but I also wanted to make absolutely sure I hadn’t misunderstood and you weren’t talking about a completely different Laurie who is still alive and well.’

  ‘No,’ she said, swallowing. She still ached about Laurie.

  ‘Huw is inconsolable, of course.’ Kit shook his head. ‘I was in Paris when it happened, unfortunately, promoting The Boy in the Blue Shirt, so I was no bloody use at all.’ He rubbed his face. ‘Owen was very much a second father to Laurie, you know, so Laurie and Huw were practically brothers. After Laurie’s breakdown though, things were never really right between them. I never did understand why that was, and I don’t think Huw did either.’

  Anna was just remembering Laurie’s very different take on his and Huw’s relationship when Kit added unhappily, ‘But even though Huw was obviously bewildered, he never stopped caring for Laurie. And now another part of his past has just gone forever.’ He drained the last of his coffee, setting down his empty cup. ‘Please go on, Anna. I promise I won’t interrupt again. I know this must be hard for you.’

  Kit kept his promise, listening in silence while Anna talked. She told him how she’d been moved but also intrigued by the message Laurie had sent with his flowers. ‘In the short time I knew her, Naomi sort of changed my life. I had the feeling she’d done something similar for Laurie.’ She explained how she’d tracked Laurie down and been invited to visit with Bonnie. As she talked Anna noticed she was swiftly editing out parts of her and Laurie’s conversation as she went along. She completely omitted any whiff of Laurie’s love affair with Owen, which meant she also had to leave out how he’d given her his box of papers to keep safe. She couldn’t explain why, but now that it came to it, Anna felt reluctant to expose Laurie’s secret life to Kit. Obviously, she couldn’t mention the bizarre similarities between Laurie and Audrey’s suicides either, since this was information she wasn’t meant to have. Feeling that she was skating along on ever thinner ice, Anna said, ‘But here’s the thing that’s really bothering me. When I talked to Laurie, he told me that Eve Bloomfield had confronted Naomi outside his house, seeming quite unhinged, he said, and apparently she also made threats against Laurie.’

  Kit rocked back in his chair as if he’d received a physical blow. ‘Shit,’ he said, half to himself. ‘And now they’re both dead. That is actually extremely disturbing, Anna. You don’t think Eve could possibly have—?’

  ‘I don’t know what I think,’ Anna told him. ‘That’s really why I wanted to talk to you.’ She described how Eve had been waiting for her outside Walsingham and had claimed authorship of Owen’s love poems. ‘I mean, you knew the Trahernes, so presumably you know Eve? Could there be any truth in it, do you think?’

  He shook his head. ‘I very much doubt it. One thing you should know about Eve – she’s notorious for her histrionics. She’s an attention seeker, always has been. The only difference now is she’s too old and bitter – and, let’s face it, too bizarre – to get the male attention she craves. There’s no way she can prove she wrote those poems, and she knows it.’ Kit drew a much-needed breath. ‘Sorry, as you can tell I am not a big fan of Eve Bloomfield. You know she refused to give us any help with Owen’s biography? You’d think she’d have jumped at the chance to give the world her version of Owen, but no!’

  ‘I suppose – if she’s loved him unrequitedly for all those years, she just wanted to keep her version of Owen for herself,’ she suggested.

  Kit’s expression instantly softened. ‘What a very sweet girl you are, Anna Hopkins. You make me feel quite ashamed of my own base and selfish character. Look, I really appreciate you telling me all this. I think I should go and have a private talk with Eve. Apart from anything else, if she’s becoming as dotty as you say, she should probably be getting some kind of help.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Anna said. ‘Thank you for listening and for your time. Now I really should go so I can take my poor neglected dog out for a last walk before bed.’

  ‘What kind of dog?’ he said at once.

  ‘A very beautiful one with a mysterious past,’ she told him, laughing. She felt almost as if she was watching herself, a witty young woman in a movie, a woman who was confident of her charms. Being with Kit somehow set her free; free to be a different, lighter Anna.

  As they left Browns, she felt the pleasant pull of the unmistakable sexual tension that had been building throughout the evening. So when he leaned in to kiss her on the lips it felt natural to respond. Kit was a good kisser. He’d presumably had a lot of practice, she thought, remembering Isadora’s shameless matchmaking. She was enjoyably aware of the light pressure of his hand touching the small of her back. Anna had rested her own hand against the front of his beautifully-cut tweed jacket. She caught a delicious whiff of his aftershave as she closed her eyes. Kit smelled subtly expensive, wonderfully kissable.

  And totally wrong. She stepped back, flustered. She wasn’t sure, but she might have very slightly pushed him away. ‘I’ve had such a lovely evening, thank you,’ she said politely.

  If Kit was dismayed he was too well-bred to let it show. ‘The pleasure was all mine,’ he said without missing a beat. ‘I hope I’ve helped. And I promise to let you know what I find out.’

  As she watched him walk away, she was already pressing buttons on her phone.

  Tansy answered at once. ‘Hey, Anna, what’s up?’

  ‘I need to tell someone about my rather weird day. Do you think you can bear to listen?’

  FOURTEEN

  The rain had almost stopped, but the wind was still wild, sending ragged clouds scudding over the city as Anna drove to the Jericho address Tansy had given her. This turned out to be a former industrial building of some kind, now stylishly converted into a home.

  Tansy opened the door, accompanied by Buster. ‘Wow, you look gorgeous!’

  ‘Ditto,’ Anna said, smiling.

  Tansy looked down at herself in surprise. She had wrapped herself in a brightly-coloured Fair Isle cardigan with a fleecy lining. Her skinny jeans were tucked into fleecy boots. ‘I’m basic-ally trying to keep warm,’ she said as Anna followed her into the house. ‘I’ve been soaked through three times today!’

  A steep flight of stripped wooden stairs led directly up from the hallway. The artworks on the walls were mostly old black and white photographs. Anna followed Tansy up to the landing with Buster frisking alongside. At the top was an ornate chest on which was displayed an old-fashioned gramophone with a horn.

  ‘What an amazing place to live,’ Anna said. ‘What did this building used to be?’

  ‘An old Victorian corset factory,’ Tansy said with a grin. ‘Nick runs his graphics business from a studio at the back.’ She ushered Anna into a high-ceilinged open-plan space in which living, eating and relaxing areas were suggested by arrangements of furniture and art objects rather than imposed by walls and doors. Anna looked around with approval bordering on envy. Industrial conversions often seemed soulless, but Nick and Leo had succeeded in turning the small factory into a genuinely comfortable – as well as aesthetically impeccable – home.

  ‘Did your friends do this all themselves?’ Anna a
sked.

  ‘I don’t think they did the plumbing and wiring, but everything else,’ Tansy said. ‘Shall I make us both some herbal tea before we get settled?’

  She disappeared into the kitchen, leaving Anna with Buster. Having sniffed Anna’s trouser hems to his eventual satisfaction, he sat at her feet with an expectant doggie grin. It was strange to think that this woolly poodle and Bonnie both belonged to the same species. Buster looked so different in every way to her elegant wolf-like Bonnie.

  ‘Are Nick and Leo both artists?’ Anna asked as Tansy came back in, setting a tray down on the hearth.

  ‘Just Nick. Leo runs that artisan bread shop in the covered market. They supply all the bread for Marmalade.’

  ‘He and Nick must have worked hard, building up successful businesses and doing up this place,’ Anna said.

  ‘Too hard they’d say now.’ Tansy perched herself on the arm of a sofa opposite Anna. ‘Leo had a cancer scare,’ she explained. ‘They decided it was a wake-up call. That’s why they’re taking this trip. Leo says it’s going to be the gay version of Eat, Pray Love,’ she said with a laugh. ‘Nick says he just hopes it doesn’t turn into Thelma and Louise!’

  ‘It’s a great place to house-sit,’ Anna said. ‘How long will your friends be away?’

  ‘Another six months then it’s back to the real world of minging house shares. I had this pathetic fantasy that I’d run into Mr Right while I was walking Buster. Actually, the way things are going, I might settle for Mr Almost Right.’ She gave Anna a wry smile.

  ‘I just spent the evening with Mr Almost Right,’ Anna told her. ‘Kit Tulliver invited me to dinner at Browns.’