by Michael Wood
The large kitchen was warm and welcoming. There was a strong aroma of Chinese food and the wine was in the cooler waiting to be poured. After the day Matilda had had, she needed this more than ever.
They piled their plates high. They rarely over-indulged like this so a treat once in a while was fine.
With a vegetable spring roll in her mouth, Matilda visibly relaxed in her seat.
‘Rough day?’ Adele asked.
‘You could say that.’
‘You?’
‘One post-mortem, one court appearance, two reports written, and one parking fine.’
‘Sounds like a fun day.’
‘Oh, it was a hoot. That DC Cotton looks very young. How old is he?’
‘Too young for you,’ Matilda said, looking at Adele over the top of her wine glass.
‘I wasn’t asking for that reason,’ she said with a twinkle in her eye.
‘I think he’s about twenty-four. He’s also married.’
‘At twenty-four? Idiot.’
‘You married young.’
‘Exactly. That’s why I can call him an idiot.’
‘Who was the PM on?’ Matilda asked after a few mouthfuls of crispy duck.
‘A woman was found in Stanley Street. Early twenties. She’d been strangled.’
‘Prostitute?’
Adele nodded.
Matilda frowned. ‘That’s three in the past couple of years. I’ll need to have a word with Bev.’
‘Who’s Bev?’
‘An ageing prostitute who’s been walking the streets for as long as I can remember. She knows all the girls.’
‘I hear you may have found Carl Meagan,’ Adele said, changing the subject when she saw the tell-tale sign of sadness in Matilda’s eyes.
‘How do you know?’
‘Scott told Chris who told me.’
Matilda rolled her eyes. ‘Nothing is certain until we get the results from a DNA test. I have my doubts.’
‘Let’s have a look at the photo.’
‘What photo?’
‘Of the lad in France who says he’s Carl.’
‘Bloody hell, doesn’t Scott keep anything private?’ Matilda wiped her hands on her napkin and pulled her phone out of her pocket. She opened the attachment in the email and pushed the phone across the table.
Adele picked it up and angled it so the light was right, and she could have a good look at the photo. She studied it for a while.
‘You’re not convinced, are you?’ Matilda asked.
‘It’s not what I was expecting.’
‘I said that.’
‘I didn’t think he’d look so thin.’
‘That’s what I thought too.’
‘I mean, if he’d been living rough or been hidden away, I’d say fair enough, but he looks clean and healthy.’
‘Again, I thought similar.’
‘Have you shown Sally yet?’
‘No. Me and Pat are going along tomorrow.’
‘I don’t envy you,’ she said, pushing the phone back across the table.
‘Neither do I.’
The case of Carl’s disappearance may have left the newspapers, but it still affected those involved, primarily Philip and Sally. However, Matilda was deeply affected, too. She often had an unsettling dream where she received a phone call revealing the whereabouts of his body. Or, when she woke with a start, sweat causing her pyjamas to stick to her, she knew her sleeping had been haunted by visions of Carl. While the Meagans continued their search, she had understood the endless features in the press. However, they were easily avoided and had soon disappeared. Now, the case was back in the forefront of her mind. This would make the newspapers. The spotlight would return. The dark dreams would increase.
‘I can’t believe how close Scott and Chris have become in such a short space of time,’ Adele said. ‘They look good together.’
‘Sorry?’ Matilda asked, looking up from the plate she hadn’t touched for a while.
‘Scott and Chris. They seem to be doing well together.’
‘Yes. Did you know they were thinking of getting a place together?’
‘Ah. Yes, I did,’ she wiped her mouth with her napkin and pushed her plate away. ‘I was going to bring that up later.’
Matilda frowned. ‘Why? Anything wrong?’
‘No. It’s just … well, Chris has mentioned something to me and asked if I’d ask you to, you know, sound you out.’
‘I’m not sure what you’re talking about and something tells me I’m not going to want to know.’
‘Well,’ she began after taking a large gulp of wine. ‘You know what house prices and rents are like these days and you know how little a teacher and a DC earn. Money is very tight.’
‘If they’re looking for help with a deposit, I’ll gladly help. As long as the others at work don’t find out.’
‘No, it’s not that. I’ve offered, but they want to pay their own way.’
‘So, what are you trying to say?’
‘They were wondering if they’d be able to rent your flat above the garage.’
***
Rory was in bed with Natasha. The room was lit only by the low wattage of the bedside table lamp. Beneath the creased duvet, they were both naked and breathing heavily following their second love making session in less than half an hour.
Rory lay back with his hands behind his head. He had a look of contentment on his face. Natasha, petite, pretty, pale skinned with pitch-black hair, snuggled up to him and rested her head on his smooth chest.
‘Do you talk about me at work?’ she asked in her soft Liverpudlian accent.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Has anyone said anything about me to you?’
‘No. What are you going on about?’
‘It’s just … well, I’ve been getting some strange looks and I overheard a couple of the girls talking in the toilets about how I’m sleeping with you to try and get into CID.’
‘What? That’s shit.’
‘I know. I didn’t want you to think that’s what I was doing.’
‘I didn’t think that. Besides, I have no influence over promotions.’
‘You know what people are like though. It sometimes feels like being back at school with some of them.’
Rory sighed. ‘I used to be a bit like that myself. When Faith was going out with Steve, me and Scott were very childish. If we’d spent less time mucking about and opened our eyes a bit more, we might have seen him for what he really was, and Faith could still be alive today.’
Natasha looked up at him. ‘Do you really believe that?’
‘I do, yes.’
‘You can’t blame yourself for what happened. It still upsets you, doesn’t it?’
He nodded. ‘She was a good detective. She was young. She didn’t deserve what happened.’
‘Rory, can I say something?’
‘Of course you can,’ he looked down at her.
Her eyes were wide. She licked her lips. ‘I think I’m falling in love with you.’
Rory swallowed hard. ‘Really?’
She nodded. ‘Do you mind me saying that?’
‘No. I’m glad you said it. I feel the same way.’
Her face broke into a huge smile. ‘Oh, thank God. For a moment there I thought you were going to flip.’
‘Don’t be silly.’
They kissed. His hands swept over her body, down her back, and cupped her bum. He pulled her up so she was sitting on him.
‘Wow, someone’s happy,’ she said, feeling him press against her.
‘I bloody am now.’
***
In the next room, Scott and Chris were in bed together. Scott was scrolling through his phone while Chris was looking at affordable flats on his tablet.
‘Bloody hell, are they at it again?’ Chris asked.
Scott nodded.
‘How many times is that now?’
‘Third, I think.’
‘I’m obviously going o
ut with the wrong flatmate.’
Scott looked over at him and saw he was grinning. ‘You were the one who had a headache last night.’
‘What do you think of this one?’ Chris showed him the tablet.
‘Nice. Where is it?’
‘Dronfield.’
‘That’s miles away. Long commute to work for both of us.’
‘But it’s cheap and it’s in a nice area.’
‘It’s not usually so cheap in Dronfield.’
‘It does need a bit of work doing to it.’
‘What do you call a bit of work?’
Chris swiped across the screen a few times before showing Scott a photo of the master bedroom.
‘It doesn’t have a floor.’
‘I know.’
‘That’s not “a bit of work”. Since when did floorboards become an optional extra?’
Chris looked at his watch. ‘Do you think my mum will have asked Matilda about her flat by now?’
‘Probably.’
‘Do you think she’ll rent it out to us?’
‘I’m not sure. She really likes her solitude.’
‘Yes, but we won’t be living in the house with her.’
‘No, but she’ll be able to hear us. I don’t think I like the idea of my boss hearing me have sex.’
‘We’re not as loud as Rory and Natasha.’
The headboard in the next room was banging rhythmically on the wall.
‘I like Rory, I really do,’ Chris said, ‘but we need our own place. It’s weird now I’ve seen him naked.’
‘When was this?’ Scott asked.
‘Last week. I got up to make a drink and he was coming out of the bathroom wiping himself. I got a right eyeful.’
‘Oh, I’m sure that was terribly distressing for you,’ Scott mocked.
‘Well, I didn’t mind the view, obviously. He’s got a great body on him. It’s just, well, it’s awkward.’
‘Fuck, Rory, you’re an animal,’ Natasha called out from the next room.
‘Are they doing this on purpose?’ Chris asked.
Scott smiled. ‘If your mum hasn’t asked Matilda, I’ll ask her myself at work tomorrow. If she doesn’t want to rent to us, then, I don’t know, I suppose we’ll have to go shopping for floorboards.’
Chris put his tablet down. He took the phone from Scott and placed it on the bedside cabinet.
‘What are you doing?’ Scott asked.
‘We’re going to show them they don’t have the monopoly on banging headboards.’
He lay on top of Scott and kissed him passionately, grabbed his legs and pulled him down the bed.
‘Fuck Chris, you’re an animal,’ Scott shouted. They both struggled to stifle their laughter.
***
Adele was slumped on the sofa, half-filled glass in hand, with an empty bottle at her feet and one just open on the coffee table. Matilda was standing by the living room window, looking out at the garage.
‘I suppose it wouldn’t be so bad having Scott and Chris living in there. It might even be nice having a neighbour again.’
‘Is this you finally admitting you made a mistake moving out here?’
‘No. I love it out here.’
‘You don’t like being so alone though, do you?’
She turned back from the window. ‘Everybody seems to be moving on, settling down, and showing how happy they are. You’ve got Chris and Scott and then there’s Rory and Natasha. Sian and Stuart are celebrating their silver wedding anniversary and Christian is the perfect family man.’
‘And you’re feeling left behind?’
‘Kind of.’
‘It sounds like you’re ready to start dating again.’
‘I’m not,’ she said, glancing at her wedding photo on the mantelpiece.
‘What about that architect who did this place, and the garage. You said he was tasty.’
‘He is.’
‘Is he single?’
‘Yes.’
‘Well, go out with him then.’
Matilda smiled coyly. ‘We’ve been out for a couple of meals.’
‘What?’ Adele sat up. ‘You never mentioned this. Matilda Darke, you’re keeping secrets from me.’ She patted the sofa next to her. ‘Come on, tell me all the details.’
She went to sit down. ‘There are no details.’
‘Have you kissed?’
‘We may have.’ Matilda felt herself warming as she thought of the few kisses they’d shared. Daniel was an incredibly handsome man. He made her feel … she wasn’t sure happy was the correct word, but something close to happiness. When she was with Daniel, she realised that life hadn’t stopped just because James was dead. There was more to life than work.
‘Ooh, exciting. What was it like?’
‘Awkward.’
‘Oh. Why?’
‘Well, the first time, we were on this sofa. I opened my eyes and I saw James looking at me. Daniel noticed it too. They were good friends.’
‘Just take things slowly, one step at a time.’
‘We’re taking things incredibly slowly. In fact, I think they’re going backwards.’
‘There’s no need to rush into things.’
‘I know. I’ll never forget James. He was the love of my life. I’m worried that any new partner, I’ll compare to James or treat him like a replacement.’
‘Cross that bridge when you come to it. If you take things slowly, you’ll see the signs and be able to avoid them.’
‘Do you think?’
‘Definitely.’
‘Daniel’s asked me out for this weekend. Do you think I should go?’
‘No. I think you should come round to mine so we can watch Strictly Come Dancing together and cry into a bag of Kettle Chips. Of course you should go, you silly cow.’
‘I will,’ Matilda beamed.
‘Oh,’ Adele said, looking sad.
‘What’s wrong?’
‘Now I’m feeling sad and lonely. You don’t happen to have a spare hunky architect for me, do you?’
‘No. But I’ll buy you a bag of Kettle Chips.’
Chapter 19
Wednesday 12th September 2018
Not long after one o’clock in the morning, police were called to a disturbance in Sheffield City Centre. A group of four men were involved in a drunken brawl. A shop window had been smashed and one man was relieving himself into the fountain in the Peace Gardens. The micturater gave his name as Sebastian Page. He was immediately arrested and sent to South Yorkshire Police HQ, where he was charged with disturbing the peace, drunk and disorderly behaviour, and the possible abduction of Keeley Armitage.
By the time Matilda arrived for work, he was sober enough to be interviewed but suffering a massive hangover. She allowed him to stew in his own self-pity for a little while longer. She had a search party to organise.
‘Who’s our land search manager?’ Matilda asked as she strode into the incident room.
‘I think it’s Aaron,’ Sian said, looking up from her computer.
‘Where is he?’
‘Not in yet.’
‘Typical. Sian, get the search team out to Stannington now. I want as many PCs and DCs as we can spare. Christian, get a team together and get knocking on all the doors on Acorn Drive and the surrounding areas. I want to know everything about the Armitage family. Ask the usual questions: what are they like, any rows or arguments? What’s Keeley like as a child? Is she happy, smiling, or sad and lonely? Any friends? Have they seen anyone suspicious or new hanging around lately? Any strange cars? I want the head teacher of Mary Croft spoken to again. Have any other kids or parents reported strangers hanging around lately?’
‘Ok. By the way, I’ve liaised with the press officer. They’re good to go whenever you are.’
‘Right. I’ll need to have a word with Craig and Linda about that.’
Matilda went into her office and pulled a waterproof jacket from the hook on the back of the door. She wanted to go out to Stanningt
on herself and see the search in action.
‘Christian, before you go,’ she called out to him as he was leaving the office, ‘I want an Armitage family tree. I need to know whether they have family living close by, cousins, aunts and uncles, that kind of thing.’
‘I’ve already started with that. Ellen’s finishing it off for me.’
‘Thanks,’ she put her hands on her hips and looked around the room. ‘Where the sodding hell is Aaron?’
***
DI Christian Brady was a dedicated and trustworthy detective. Matilda had welcomed him into her team with open arms and, like Sian, he gave one hundred per cent. His only distraction was the ravages of age. He was balding slightly, and was getting a little soft around the middle. His once fitted shirts were now worn loosely, and he’d taken to arriving for work wearing a designer flat cap.
He was heading down the corridor, phone in hand, when he almost collided with Aaron who was conducting a private phone conversation behind a vending machine.
‘Jesus, Aaron, you scared the— What’s wrong?’
Aaron was frequently asked if anything was wrong. He had a permanent look of worry on his face, a brooding brow, and slouched shoulders; he was a dead ringer for Idris Elba’s Luther but without the cool coat.
‘Nothing, why?’
‘There is. Has something happened? Is Katrina all right?’ he asked, referring to Aaron’s wife.
‘Fuck,’ he said, kicking the side of the vending machine.
‘Come here.’ Christian grabbed Aaron by the elbow and led him to an office. He opened the door and poked his head through to make sure it was empty before pushing Aaron in.
The small room was dark, cold, and there was an underlying smell of damp. It took a while for the lights to warm up.
‘I’ve fucked up big time,’ Aaron said, sitting on the edge of a desk.
‘What have you done?’
‘It’s nothing work related. Well, it kind of is in a way.’
‘Spit it out, Aaron.’
He took a deep breath. ‘Remember the Mercer case earlier this year?’
‘I’m hardly likely to forget it. I still see blood sometimes when I close my eyes.’
‘Me too. Anyway, I’ve sort of been seeing Leah.’