by Susan Lewis
“OK, if you say so, but you seemed to be getting along so well with Dan the last time I looked . . . Where is he?” As she turned to search for him Claudia said quietly, “Mum, don’t,” and putting on a bright smile she thrust out a hand to shake Henry’s. “It was lovely to meet you,” she told him in her friendliest tone.
“My pleasure,” he assured her, but she could see from the way he regarded her that he’d picked up on her misgivings. She didn’t want to make him feel awkward, or worried, or in any way reluctant to be friends with her mother, but at the same time she didn’t want him in their lives.
“So, what happened?” Marcy asked as they started the drive home. “And don’t say nothing, because I can tell that it did.”
“She freaked out,” Jasmine said from the back seat. “Or she was on the brink of it, anyway.”
Marcy glanced at Claudia in the darkness. “What brought it on?” she asked gently.
“I don’t know. I just . . . It doesn’t matter, it’s over now.” She didn’t want to admit to hearing Marcus in her head, or to how badly Jasmine’s small rebellion had thrown her. The last thing she wanted was her daughter feeling afraid to speak her mind. “Shall we change the subject and talk about what a lovely evening we had?” she suggested.
“Totally awesomazing,” Jasmine yawned, “but seems I’m the only one in this car who’s going home without a potential date in the next few days.”
Marcy’s eyebrows rose. “Are you going to see Dan again?” she asked Claudia.
“No!” Claudia replied snappishly. “Just because I was chatting to him doesn’t mean we’re starting something. What about you and Henry? When are you seeing him?”
“Probably on Tuesday at the community center.”
“You live such wild lives, you two,” Jasmine commented with another yawn.
They drove on in silence after that, with Claudia fighting back all the cutting things she wanted to say about Henry, and denials about Dan, and annoyance with Jasmine until she finally blurted, “If you’re having a problem meeting boys because of what happened to me, Jasmine, we need to—”
Marcy cut her off. “You’re tired, Claudia, so don’t let’s have this conversation now.”
“But if she is—”
“Just stop,” Marcy cried despairingly. “We’ve all had too much to drink, including you, which means you really shouldn’t be driving, so if you want something to sober you up consider what you’ll tell the police if they pull us over.”
Chapter Fourteen
Claudia was at the top of a stepladder in the show home marking up for curtain poles, while Andee stood on the bottom rung holding it steady. Outside it was trying to be sunny, although it was bitterly cold and this unheated house wasn’t doing much to warm them, especially since they’d had to take their boots off before coming in.
“Everything’s checking out,” Claudia informed Andee, and reeling in her tape measure she tucked the pencil behind one ear before making her descent. “We should be able to start hanging the drapes in here on Monday.”
“Excellent,” Andee replied, glancing at her phone as it rang. “Ah, I should take this,” and leaving Claudia to fold up the steps, she wandered into the hall.
As Claudia began packing her bag on the dusty floor she checked her own phone for messages and found several from her machinists, although thankfully no one was in need of urgent attention. This meant she might have time when she’d finished here to pop over to the coach house to check on progress there.
Since the sale had completed the builders had moved in, and because no room dimensions were changing, the kitchen was already being constructed, by hand, in a workshop on the edge of town. There was a lot to do, even more than she’d expected, but when it was finished she knew in her heart that it was going to be the most beautiful home she’d ever owned, and as special as if it were another member of the family.
“You know,” Andee said, as she came back into the room, “I’d be very happy to start recommending you, if you’d like me to.”
Claudia’s eyebrows rose. “But you haven’t actually seen anything yet,” she reminded her.
“I’ve seen enough to know how good you are, and how highly Cassie’s team regard you. So, if you’re OK about me sharing your details . . . Actually, what prospective clients will really want to see is a website with a gallery of your work if you have one.”
Claudia swallowed and looked down to zip up her bag. “Not yet,” she replied. “I mean, I used to, but it wasn’t very good, so I need to find someone to help with a new one. Maybe you could suggest a designer?”
“Of course. You should have a chat with Eddie over in Paradise Cove who did mine. He’s very good, not too expensive, and is in your kind of league when it comes to speed. Actually, he set up the restorative justice site for us too, so there’s another example of his work you could take a look at, although that’s a very different sort of business. It shows his versatility.”
Since the mention of restorative justice brought Dan to her mind Claudia kept her eyes lowered as she said, “I’ll make it my first task once this order is ready.”
Andee smiled, and hefting her bag onto her shoulder, she led the way across the newly laid hardwood floor into the freshly painted hall. As she opened the front door, she said, “I guess now is as good a time as any to bring this up—Dan’s been in touch with me to ask if he can have your number.”
Claudia’s heart gave a jolt. She’d been trying not to think about him since the party, and not always successfully—actually not very successfully at all.
“I told him I’d have to ask you first,” Andee continued, digging her feet into the boots she’d left on the doorstep, “so would you be happy for him to call you?”
Stuck for an answer that wouldn’t sound cold or rude, Claudia said, “Actually, I’m quite busy at the moment, so maybe it’s not a good idea.”
Andee nodded and started down the path. “I think he’ll be disappointed,” she commented, not quite ready to let it go yet. “This is the first time, as far as I know, that he’s shown any interest in a woman since his wife died. In fact, he’s always warning us not to try pairing him off.”
Though Claudia felt flattered by Dan’s interest, it made no difference; she knew she couldn’t see him.
“He’s a really great guy,” Andee persisted, “and you seemed to be getting along well at Tom and Leanne’s . . .”
“You’re right, he’s very nice,” Claudia interrupted, “but I don’t think . . . I wouldn’t want to give the impression that I’m interested in being in a relationship, because I’m really not.”
“OK, I’ll tell him, but if you change your mind . . .”
“I won’t, but thanks.”
As Claudia drove back toward town, a quick visit to the coach house forgotten, a surge of frustration was building up inside her. She hated and resented the fact that Marcus continued to impact her life, and in so many ways, from the voices in her head to the fear of someone finding her and now this. For the truth was, she’d like to see Dan again—she’d even imagined where they might go and what they might talk about, but she was afraid to chance it. One single date was all it would take for him to realize that she wasn’t who she was pretending to be—or that she was hiding something—or that she was quite simply dishonest. He didn’t deserve that.
No, it was best they didn’t meet again. That way no misunderstandings could occur, and no damage would be done.
“I’M REALLY SORRY,” Andee said when she caught up with Dan later at his law firm. The staff had all gone home, but Graeme was there, signing a property contract that Dan had drawn up for him.
“She doesn’t want me to call,” Dan said, resignation masking his disappointment as he passed her a gin and tonic. “I just hope it didn’t create any awkwardness for you.”
“I wouldn’t say that,” she assured him, and sitting on one of his blue leather sofas, she raised her glass to him and said, “Actually, if you want my o
pinion, I think she’s been badly hurt in the past and she just isn’t ready to take the risk again.”
With a certain wryness he replied, “Well, I think we can all understand that.”
Graeme put down his pen and sat back comfortably in Dan’s chair. “Andee, I think you should tell him what you’ve found out,” he said quietly.
Dan regarded Andee with interest.
Slanting Graeme a look, Andee said, “OK, but if I do, it must go no further than this room.”
Dan put a hand to his lips as a seal and watched her as she sipped from her glass, clearly taking time to choose her words.
“Do you remember the case of three missing women several months ago?” she asked. “Grandmother, mother, and daughter?”
He frowned. “I think so, vaguely. I remember you were interested in it. Weren’t they found?” His eyes widened incredulously as he connected with what she was saying.
“It’s them,” she confirmed.
“How do you know?”
“Because when I realized things weren’t quite . . . as they should be with Claudia, I was reminded of the missing family, so I decided to pull up some police and press shots from the time of the search. Claudia and Jasmine have changed their hair color, but it’s definitely them.”
Dan sat quite still. He wasn’t sure what to say, or even what to think.
“It turns out,” Andee continued, “that Claudia’s husband is Marcus Huxley-Browne, the financier who went down for insider trading.”
Recalling the case, Dan said, “I didn’t read much about it, but. . . . Are you saying Claudia was involved in some way?”
Andee got up to put more ice in her glass. “I did wonder it at first,” she confessed, “but after a little more digging around I discovered something else about Huxley-Browne. He has a history as an abuser.”
Dan’s distaste showed. “So it could be she’s trying to escape him?” he prompted. “Isn’t he in prison?”
“Yes, but there’s no knowing what sort of reach he has. If he’s as controlling as most abusers there’s a good chance he already has someone looking for her. Hence the change of name and flight to the other side of the country.”
Graeme said, “The police must know where she is because they called off the search, but how much protection that gives her . . .” He shrugged, obviously having no idea.
Having none either, Dan said to Andee, “I’m guessing you haven’t mentioned anything to Claudia about this?”
She shook her head. “I’m taking the view that if she wants me to know she’ll tell me.”
He nodded in agreement and took a sip of his drink. “And meantime, we do what?” he asked.
Andee sighed. “There’s nothing we can do apart from carry on being her friend—and respecting the decisions she’s made to protect herself and her family.”
Chapter Fifteen
Dan wasn’t himself when he came today. He’s been off before, but I could tell this time that something was eating him up, and I don’t think it had anything to do with me. Don’t worry, I get that I’m not the center of his world.
It’s a shame really, because I was all fired up to tell him the stuff I’d been thinking about since we last had a visit, you know, about my ma, and maybe even a bit about BJ, but when I saw he wasn’t with me I backed off.
After he’d gone, I wrote my shit down so he can see it the next time he comes, if he’s interested. Maybe he’s sick of me, thinks I’m not worth his time anymore. Screw him, if he does, he won’t be the first to bail on me and he won’t be the last.
He’s kind of stuck in my head though, and I can’t stop myself wondering what was menacing him today. It bothers me to think he’s not in a good place. Not that I can do anything about it, I’m just saying, is all.
It could be some woman is giving him issues. (I like that he’s going to read this before you and find out I’ve been sussing him this way.) I bet he does have a woman, someone hot and sassy who knows how to treat a bloke.
I’ve noticed he wears a wedding ring so it could be that wifey’s cheating on him. Or he’s cheating on her. Either way doesn’t make for a good situation and I can’t help feeling for the guy. I know what it’s like to have troubles with the girls. I might only be nineteen, but I’m no girvin (that’s an anagram so I expect you can work it out). I lost mine when I was fourteen to one of the chicks who hangs out under the railway bridge. Got no idea where she is now, might even be dead, although I’d probably have heard if she was.
I don’t go in for actual girlfriends, you know, the type you date on a regular basis. Too much hassle, especially in my line of work when I have to be away a lot of the time. Tbh I get more of it when I’m making deliveries than I ever do at home. Some of the PCs’ wives are more than keen to show their gratitude, know what I’m saying? (Bet Dan takes that bit out.) But it’s true, they are. You just don’t want the other half catching you, is all. He’ll contact the top dudes, you know, the bosses who run us mules, and let me tell you there’s no good outcome there. Luckily it’s never happened to me. A mate of mine walks with a permanent limp after he got caught and the injury isn’t in either of his legs.
OK, I get that you don’t want to hear about any of that. It was rude of me to go there. Let’s back up and pretend I never said it.
It’s in my mind to ask how you are. I’d really like to know, but it kind of scares me too.
You might not realize it but I think about you a lot, and what happened. In my head I see myself going through it again, doing what I did, and you being there . . . Why the fuck were you there? Sorry about swearing, but why the eff were you?
I’m going to ask Dan that the next time he comes. I hope he comes. See that, Dan? I said I hope you come, and once you’re done getting on my case about my language maybe you’ll answer the question.
Why was she there?
Chapter Sixteen
The last thing Marcy had expected when she’d moved to Kesterly was to find herself becoming involved with a man, especially one who was, if not in looks then in character, so like her husband of over thirty years. However, it was happening, and there was no resisting it, for Henry Matthews was as charming as the stars and as kind and entertaining as any man she’d ever known. She was even prepared to admit, but only to herself, that when she wasn’t enjoying his company she spent a good deal of the time looking forward to seeing him again.
They worked well together at the community center, organizing all sorts of activities from special outings for deprived children, right through to tea dances and old movie nights for those of their own age and over. They’d joined the same poetry group—neither of them could write it, but they enjoyed listening and having it explained—and the dreaded golf lessons were actually going quite well. She’d even managed to get him onto the selection committee for the spring concert she was sponsoring mostly as a showcase for Jasmine, but also to help promote local musicians.
And now here they were meeting for dinner at the Crustacean, one of the town’s fanciest restaurants, before Henry left for Hereford in the morning to spend Christmas with his son and daughter-in-law. The place was aglow with seasonal lights and carols were playing softly on the music system, creating such an infectious sense of goodwill that as Marcy looked into Henry’s humorous brown eyes, she was finding it hard to stop smiling. She liked this man, she really did, and why wouldn’t she? His easygoing nature, effortless integrity, and sixty-five-year-old laughter lines were an irresistible combination.
“Thank you for coming,” he said, his words imbued with their habitual hint of irony.
“Did you think I wouldn’t?” she countered.
“Let’s just say I would have been disappointed if you hadn’t, but do you realize this is the first time we’ve actually been out on a date, just the two of us?”
She feigned shock. “This is a date?” she whispered, pressing a hand to her heart as she glanced around to see if anyone was listening.
Staging his own pretens
e, he said, “Are we supposed to call it something else? An audition for the concert?”
With a laugh she said, “Just as well neither of us is trying out for that. I don’t know which one of us is more embarrassing with our nonexistent knowledge of current sounds.”
“Thank goodness we have your granddaughter and her musically gifted friends to mask our shame.” He signaled the waiter to top up their glasses. “Speaking of whom, how are rehearsals going for her school Christmas concert tomorrow?”
Marcy rolled her eyes and sighed. “Let’s just say that she’s so wound up about it that we’re afraid to talk to her, although she can’t talk about anything else.”
“Does she always get like that during the run-up to a performance?”
With a shake of her head, Marcy said, “She never used to, but she was younger then and this is the first time since we’ve been here that she’s committed to playing a solo.” Jasmine used to love nothing more than performing in front of an audience before Marcus had stopped it, she was thinking; now, not surprisingly, it was taking time for her to get her confidence back. “I think she’s just nervous about being up there in front of so many of her friends,” she continued airily. “You know the way teens are—much more self-conscious than during their earlier years.” She smiled fondly. “She’ll be fine once she’s underway and lost in the music.”
“I’m sure she will,” he agreed, “and I’m very sorry to be missing it. I’ve heard from her coach that she’s an outstanding student. One of the best he’s had.”
“You know Anton,” she said in surprise. “Oh no, don’t tell me, he was once one of your clients?”
“He was, but he’s also a good friend going back over many years, and he taught my son the violin before it became evident we were wasting our money. Now tell me what your plans are for Christmas, so I can imagine where you are and what you’re doing.”
Pleased by his interest, she sipped her wine as she said, “Well, tomorrow night, Christmas Eve, we have the concert, of course. Then we’re planning to get up early in the morning to open presents before going to the shelter to serve hot meals for the homeless. Leanne and her mother organized it, so there are several of us going. After, we were expecting to return home for a roast turkey, just the three of us, but Andee and Graeme have invited us to join them and we’ve accepted.”