‘Yeah, good,’ Ashley offered. ‘Like the boots.’
Rebecca glanced down at her trusty Lolita ankle boots, red in colour, and quite trendy for someone who must appear ancient in Ashley’s eyes. More importantly, they were made for walking in, thank goodness. Feeling distinctly wobbly herself earlier, Rebecca might have been struggling to keep the pace otherwise.
‘Come on then, let’s hit the shops, before Matthew wakes up and decides to tag along.’
She plucked up her bag and car keys, hooked arms with Ashley and the two headed for the door. Rebecca was actually looking forward to this. She hadn’t had a good girly shop in ages.
Chapter Nine
Realising the shrill cry piercing his brain wasn’t part of his nightmare, Matthew bolted upright. Sweat saturating his forehead and pooling at the base of his neck, he disentangled himself from the duvet and stumbled out of bed.
Dammit. Where was the bloody thing? Glancing around the room for his ringing mobile, he tried to shake his head free of black crows picking over dead carcasses, and his gut feeling that something was very wrong. Searching through his clothes, he finally located the phone in his jacket pocket and jabbed urgently at the answer button. ‘Adams?’
‘He’s filed,’ Steve announced, without ceremony. ‘Came in with his solicitor in tow. I thought you should know.’
‘Right.’ Matthew sucked in a tight breath. ‘What am I looking at?’
Steve hesitated. ‘Section 18 Assault,’ he then delivered the bad news solemnly.
GBH with intent, Matthew mentally translated, which meant, if it stuck, it would be prosecuted in the Crown Court, ergo, he was stuffed, totally.
‘You’ll need to come in and make a statement,’ Steve reminded him, after another uncomfortable pause.
Matthew closed his eyes and swallowed hard.
‘Matt?’
‘Yes!’ Matthew answered shortly, ‘I gathered. I’ll get showered and be right there.’
Which meant his intended search of the house would have to wait. Whatever Davies chose to believe, Sullivan had been here. The man had been crawling around his property, spying on his wife, like some sick animal hunting its prey. Leaving nothing to chance, Matthew had intended to take the place apart, search it inch by inch. Listening devices and hidden cameras weren’t unfeasible. Anything was possible where Sullivan was concerned.
‘Not sure it will help much, but I did mention I heard you telling him to stay away from your wife,’ Steve offered. ‘Like I say, not sure it will do any good, but …’
‘Okay.’ Matthew nodded, grateful that Steve, at least, didn’t seem to be casting him as the villain. ‘Thanks, Steve.’
‘Least I could do,’ Steve said, awkwardly.
‘Has he left?’ Matthew asked, trying to focus on the here and now, rather than the waking nightmare his life was about to become. ‘Sullivan, is he still on the premises?’
‘Left about an hour ago. I tried to call you, but you weren’t answering.’
Meaning Sullivan was now free to do what he liked to whoever he liked and no one could touch him. It had been a clever plan, Matthew had to concede. Sullivan had obviously considered it worth taking a beating to make sure Matthew’s hands were tied. He’d turned the tables: stitched him up. One provocation too far was all it had needed. Sullivan had known it.
‘I’ll be there shortly,’ he said, hanging up. He’d have to talk to Rebecca, Matthew realised, grabbing his trousers and tugging them on. He’d hoped not to. At least not yet, some small part of him hoping this wasn’t happening. That his colleagues would take his word over a piece of lowlife scum; that his wife might even be offered protection.
Hah! Fat chance. Matthew laughed cynically, angrily stuffing an arm into his shirt. They’d claimed to believe his theory that Sullivan had something to do with Lily’s death, but without proof, there could be no prosecution. This time, Davies had made it blatantly obvious he thought Matthew had been making up fairy stories, taking an opportunity to seek some form of retribution. And this time, it was him being prosecuted.
In which case, this time, he would make sure Sullivan got what was coming. And if he had to go above the law, so be it. His jaw tight-set, his emotions spiralling, Matthew headed for the landing.
‘Becky?’ He headed down the stairs and across the empty lounge to the kitchen. Finding that empty too, he went back upstairs to check out Ashley’s room, even knowing she wouldn’t be there.
Nothing. Shit! Matthew turned full circle, dragged his hand through his hair in frustration, and then went to the bedroom window to check on Rebecca’s car. Gone, he registered, turning to race back down to the kitchen. Panic knotting his insides, he scanned the working surfaces, trying to unscramble his brain and remember what the hell Rebecca had said. And there it was, a note propped against the kettle. Matthew squeezed his eyes shut tight, his heart sinking fast. Shopping. Sullivan was walking around scot-free, following her possibly, and she’d gone shopping.
‘Christ.’ Matthew ran to the front door, grabbed up his car keys from the console, and then stopped. But where had she gone shopping? Talk about bloody incompetence! Cold apprehension snaking its way down his spine, Matthew pulled his phone from his pocket. Why hadn’t he been listening properly? Why hadn’t he remembered? What in God’s name had he been doing drinking? He needed to stay alert. He needed to be protecting his wife, and he’d downed half a bottle of whisky? What the hell was the matter with him?!
Trying to slow his breathing, his rapid-fire thoughts skipping all other possibilities to arrive at worst case scenario, he selected Rebecca’s number, and his heart plummeted to the pit of his stomach.
‘Becky, can you ring me as soon as you get this?’ An audible wheeze in his chest, his throat tight with emotion, Matthew spoke as calmly as he could to her voicemail. ‘It’s urgent.’
****
‘So, which is it to be? iPhone or Samsung?’ Rebecca asked after Ashley’s choice of new phone and tried not to worry too much about the damage to her bank account. The delight on Ashley’s face was worth every penny.
‘Um?’ Ashley squeezed her eyes closed. ‘Samsung,’ she finally plumped for. ‘Then I can transfer all my stuff from my old phone.’
‘Sure?’ Rebecca smiled indulgently. They’d only been in the shop almost an hour. Not time enough, surely, to make such a momentous decision?
‘Sure.’ Ashley nodded happily and went off to browse, while Rebecca sorted out the contract and payment.
Pleased with their progress, Rebecca watched Ashley, as the assistant filled in the paperwork. She looked better already, new chunky ankle boots on her feet, rather than her tatty old trainers, a bit of a restyle to her hair. Ashley hadn’t wanted too much taken off, just a reshape around her face. That was definitely a right decision. There were women who would kill for hair that was naturally silken smooth. Aware her own strawberry frizz was in need of a trim, Rebecca made a mental note to book an appointment for next time she was in town and went to collect her charge, before Ashley tapped her way through every PC keyboard in the shop.
‘So where next?’ Rebecca asked, hooking arms with her as they walked.
‘New Look,’ Ashley decided. Clearly she was revelling in being let loose in the shops. Rebecca guessed that, in the normal scheme of things, giving teenagers free rein in the shopping centre wasn’t generally a great idea, but Ashley had never had a normal scheme of things, as far as Rebecca knew. And a little over-indulgence seemed to be doing a hell of a lot more good than it did harm. The megawatt smile Ashley had beamed her when she’d sanctioned the boots, was pure gold in terms of reward. The little gold locket she’d also bought her wasn’t massively expensive, but the look on Ashley’s face, one of genuine delight, had been priceless.
‘New Look it is. And then coffee,’ Rebecca decided. ‘My old bones can’t keep up with you.’
‘You’re not old,’ Ashley gave her a reassuring glance over her shoulder as
she made a beeline for teenage heaven. ‘Just more mature.’
‘Yes, cheers, Ashley. I think.’ Rebecca rolled her eyes and then scooted to keep up with her.
New Look purchases in hand, leggings and cropped sweaters for Ashley, another oversized sweater for Rebecca, they collected up their caramel lattes and Belgian chocolate teacakes and parked themselves at Costa Coffee.
‘So where else do you want to try for your slim leg trousers?’ Ashley asked, and then attempted to lick latte from the end of her nose.
‘Not sure.’ Rebecca did likewise.
Ashley cocked her head to one side, laughing at Rebecca as she failed miserably. ‘You missed,’ she said.
‘Yup.’ Rebecca used the back of her hand instead.
Still laughing, Ashley followed suit—and Rebecca thought that now might be a good time to have a chat with her. As they’d already touched on the subject and, on the basis she would have to share her news with Ashley anyway, it was probably better sooner, rather than later. ‘Can I ask you something, Ashley?’ she started hesitantly.
Ashley’s guard went up immediately. ‘Suppose.’ She shrugged and proceeded to pick chocolate off her teacake.
‘Do you like living with us? With Matthew and me?’
Ashley glanced back at her. Rebecca expected another non-committal shrug. What she got was a pleasant surprise.
‘Yes,’ Ashley said, straight off, and then knitted her brow. ‘Why?’
‘Do you think you’d like to stay?’ Rebecca pushed on.
‘Huh-huh.’ Ashley’s expression was apprehensive.
‘We’d like you to, too.’ Rebecca smiled reassuringly. ‘But I do have something to discuss with you. Not something bad,’ she added quickly, noting Ashley’s immediately downcast eyes, the way her hand withdrew from her cake, as if she’d suddenly lost her appetite.
Rebecca took a huge breath, then, ‘I need a friend,’ she announced.
Ashley’s gaze flicked cautiously back to Rebecca’s face.
‘Matthew’s my friend, of course, and I love him dearly, but …’ Rebecca paused, wondering how she could put this without appearing to be slating Matthew. ‘Well, he’s a man,’ she opted for, ‘and I need someone I can talk girl stuff with. Could you be my friend, Ashley, do you think?’
Ashley tipped her head to one side, her brow creased thoughtfully. ‘I am your friend,’ she said, now looking confused.
‘Good.’ Rebecca didn’t have to feign relief. ‘Because I have a secret I need to share. It’s just between you and me, I don’t want Matthew to know yet, but …’ she took another breath ‘… I’m pregnant.’
Rebecca swallowed and waited.
‘Oh.’ Ashley’s almond-shaped eyes widened. ‘Shit,’ she said bluntly. ‘I bet that’s a bit scary. After what happened before, I mean.’
‘Yes, yes it is.’ Rebecca nodded, amazed. She hadn’t really known what reaction to expect, resentment possibly, signs of insecurity, indifference.
Ashley actually seemed interested. ‘Can I ask you something?’
‘Ask away.’ Rebecca smiled, ready to reassure her if she asked whether they would still want her to stay, which she expected she might. The pregnancy might not go full-term. Things might not work out with Ashley long-term, but Rebecca wanted her to know that another child, God willing, was something she’d factored in anyway.
‘How do you know you’ll love it?’ Ashley asked, catching Rebecca off guard.
Rebecca considered, guessing this was something to do with Ashley’s own unloved past. ‘I think it’s instinctive, or at least it should be,’ she answered honestly, sensing that that was what Ashley needed.
‘Yeah.’ Ashley’s rich cognac eyes turned a shade darker. ‘My mum obviously wasn’t very instinctive.’
Aware this was sensitive ground, Rebecca trod carefully. ‘Sometimes something goes wrong,’ she offered gently. ‘For some reason, mother and baby don’t bond.’
‘She was probably too drunk,’ Ashley said startlingly, and then, ‘Do your parents love you?’ she asked.
‘Yes.’ Rebecca nodded, as Ashley held her gaze, probably trying to work out what would make a person lovable. ‘Yes, they do.’
‘You’re obviously worth loving,’ Ashley smiled, a smile so sad it was heart-breaking.
Rebecca reached across the table, taking hold of the hand Ashley wasn’t picking at her teacake with. ‘And so are you,’ she assured her.
Ashley shrugged again, then, ‘Do you have any sisters or brothers?’ she asked, neatly changing the subject.
‘One: a brother. He lives in Cambridge. You’ll probably meet him at Christmas, but beware, he can be a real pain sometimes.’
‘Aren’t boys always,’ Ashley commented drolly.
‘Um?’ Rebecca was contemplating her answer when Ashley confided something that took her completely by surprise.
‘I had a sister,’ she said, plucking a little of her cake as she spoke. ‘She was a real pain, too.’ Popping the cake in her mouth, she chewed and glanced around. ‘I still think she’s here sometimes.’
A sister? But … Matthew had never mentioned a sister. Did he even know? Astounded, Rebecca gauged Ashley carefully. ‘Is that who you talk to, Ashley?’
There was that shrug again. ‘Sometimes.’
Rebecca was about to probe a little deeper when Ashley emitted an audible sigh and flopped back in her seat. ‘Must be nice to be normal,’ she said, longingly.
Seeing her obvious self-doubt, Rebecca swallowed back a lump in her throat. ‘Sometimes people perceived as normal are just better at papering over the cracks, Ashley,’ she pointed out, softly. ‘No one is normal. We all have our faults. The thing to do is not blame yourself for other people’s shortcomings. They just weigh you down in the end, fill you full of doubt and stifle who you are, you know?’
Ashley frowned. ‘I think so.’ She nodded, slowly.
Rebecca hoped so. Dearly hoped she wouldn’t go through the rest of her life thinking her mother’s faults were because of her. ‘So, now we’ve put the world to rights,’ she checked her watch, ‘we’d better go and see if Matthew’s recovered from his hangover while we’ve been spending his money. Are you going to eat the rest of that teacake, or donate it to a worthy cause?’
At which, Ashley grinned and stuffed it in her mouth. ‘You shouldn’t eat for two,’ she mumbled, between chomps. ‘You’ll get fat.’
‘Thank you.’ Rebecca grabbed up her bags. ‘You’re doing my confidence the world of good.’
‘Just offering you a bit of friendly advice.’ Ashley smiled cheekily, as she squeezed out of her seat, which was as near normal teenager as she could be, for now.
‘Don’t forget your phone.’ Checking the table as they left, Rebecca picked up the old phone Ashley had left behind.
‘Could you put it in your bag?’ Ashley asked, busy with her new phone.
Along with her earphones, her new Miss Selfridge dangly earrings for safekeeping, and her half-drunk bottle of coke. Rebecca rolled her eyes and made a mental note to put bigger handbag on her next shopping trip.
‘Does Matthew drink much?’ Ashley asked, as they walked back to the car. Her eyes were on her phone but her antennae were on red alert, Rebecca imagined.
‘No,’ she assured her adamantly. ‘Only ever occasionally, and usually when he’s struggling with some upsetting case at work. He’s a good man, Ashley, trust me on that, even-tempered, fair, and good fun, if you can ever get his mind off his work, that is.’
Chapter Ten
‘So, you’re telling me that you can take men off the job to escort Sullivan to the hospital, as if he’s lost the use of his legs, but you can’t allocate protection for a woman he’s threatened?’ Matthew tried to get his head around it.
Sighing, DCI Davies propped his elbows on his desk and kneaded his forehead. ‘We have a duty of care, Matthew. The man—’
‘Duty of care?’ Matthew stared at him
astounded. ‘What about a duty of care to one of our own, John? For God’s sake, we’re talking about my wife!’
‘Look, Matthew,’ DCI Davies looked back at him, his expression somewhere between sympathy and exasperation, ‘don’t you think you might be getting a little paranoid here?’
‘Paranoid?’ Matthew shook his head, incredulous. ‘He told me what film we were watching. Are you saying that was just a wild guess?’
Davies drew in a breath. ‘Not according to Sullivan he didn’t.’
‘Ah, I see. Well that must be right then. Obviously, I must have misheard.’
‘That’s the point here, though, Matthew, isn’t it, who heard what and who didn’t? DS Ingram was standing two yards away from you. His account of what was said, or not, does not tally with yours. Either way, I see no evidence of actual threats.’
Matthew noted the don’t-challenge-my-temper look on the man’s face and felt a mixture of sheer disbelief and creeping hopelessness.
‘Right.’ He drew in a terse breath. ‘So what you’re actually saying is that you don’t believe me.’
‘I didn’t say that, Matthew. I said—’
‘I heard.’ Matthew turned away.
‘I’ll try,’ Davies said, behind him. ‘If you’re really concerned, I’ll try and get someone out to your house tomorrow, but I can’t prom—’
‘Forget it,’ Matthew tossed over his shoulder.
‘I said, I’d try,’ Davies called after him, as Matthew banged furiously out of his office.
‘Not fucking good enough, sir,’ Matthew shouted back. Stuff it, he thought, not giving a damn about possible charges of insubordination, or the loaded hush that fell over the outer office as he stormed through it, the most notable pause in conversation being that between Steve and DS Collins.
‘Looks like someone’s determined to balls up his career,’ she commented, as Matthew neared Steve’s desk.
‘Leave it, Sally.’ Steve shot her a warning glance. ‘Cut him some slack, hey?’
‘As long as he’s not dragging everyone else down the slippery slope with him.’ DS Collins swept majorly unimpressed eyes over Mathew and headed back to her own desk.
Death Sentence Page 10