I took a deep breath. ‘You deserve an apology in person. My accusations were filthy and unfounded.’
He jumped out of the boat. ‘I got your card. Thank you.’
‘I’m sorry about . . . everything. Good luck with your future. I hope you get the inspectors job.’ I turned away.
‘Sharon.’
I turned back.
‘Best of luck in Australia.’ He held out his hand.
I took it and we shook hands. I began to cry. Embarrassed by my weakness, I pulled away and ran along the beach.
He caught up with me and took hold of my arm. ‘Shall we have a cup of coffee together?’ he asked. ‘And talk as friends not adversaries?’
Getting a visa to live in Australia was so difficult I thought that getting out of jail would be easier. The forms were long and if it hadn’t been for my brothers I’m sure I would have been rejected. I had to prove my financial status, which fortunately, was excellent. Desperate to get my parents out of the council estate that was becoming so violent they felt they were entering a war zone every time they went out, I gave them a choice. Either come to Australia with me, or live in my house in St Austell when I go. They chose Australia. My brothers had to guarantee that they would look after my parents if they got into financial difficulties.
The day after I got my Australian visa, Robert was promoted to inspector. I bought him a bottle of champagne. We went out to dinner with Vanessa and Leslie to celebrate. Thanks to Margaret’s reference Leslie had found a job stacking shelves in a supermarket. It was a lowly position for someone who had been a teacher, but he said he had plenty of time to think about the new novel he was writing. To give himself time to contemplate he walked the two miles to work.
He told us that Phoebe and Stuart had put their house in Farrier Way on the market and were buying an apartment in Pengelly House. He also took great pleasure in telling us that all the staff in medical records had put in written complaints about Elaine Dunn. After an investigation she was sacked. Margaret was the new manager.
‘Why not see if you can get your old job back?’ Robert asked.
He shook his head. ‘Elaine wrote to Human Resources and they wrote to my mother’s address and asked me to attend a hearing to defend myself. I didn’t turn up and they sacked me.’
The following morning I found out what it was like to wake up in Dolphin Cottage to the sound of the waves and the view of the sea, with Robert’s arms around me. And I was right about the romantic dinners with candles burning and classical music playing on the CD.
The photographs of Judith and Hannah were back in place. Looking at them made my throat ache. Hannah had blonde curls just like the little girl we’d seen at Pengelly House. No wonder Robert had looked at her with longing. A family group, obviously taken by a professional, showed a happy trio all blessed with good looks.
Instead of diminishing, my guilt grew. My judgment had been way off. A more astute person would have realized Robert was tormented by loss and struggling to rebuild his life, rather than arrogant and sullen as I had thought. The conclusions I had jumped to were wild. I, who hated it when people assumed I was the sergeant and Robert was the inspector, had assumed that the paediatrician Robert had mentioned was a man. Just because he didn’t flirt with women and didn’t have a girlfriend I’d wondered if he was a homosexual.
He tried to persuade me to stay in England. But having told my brothers and parents I was going to Australia I felt committed. My brothers had found me a flat in Perth. And although Robert had forgiven me, the memory of what I had said was too shameful for me to dream we had a future together. On two occasions I had been guilty of causing him terrible hurt.
And my attitude to Phoebe had been caused mostly by envy, which was unforgivable and compromised my ability as a detective. Even after discovering she’d had miscarriages and a baby who’d died shortly after being born, I had still felt envious of her beauty and the way she dressed. No man would ever look at me admiringly when I walked into a room.
Before my parents left for Australia I made them go to the dentist. My father got new dentures. All my mother’s decaying teeth were extracted and she was pleased with her dentures, which looked good and didn’t hurt like her old teeth had. I made an appointment for her to go to the hairdressers. It was the first time for thirty years that she’d had her hair professionally cut and styled. She used to hack at it herself. The new style made her look ten years younger. I made my father go to the barber. I failed to persuade him to give up smoking. He was more willing to let me teach him how to use e-mail and do basic internet searches.
I didn’t go to London to see them off. I’d be seeing them in three weeks. My brothers had found them a one bedroom flat and bought them a computer. My dad bombarded me with e-mails from Australia. They loved the flat, they loved the beaches and the weather and they were absorbed in their grandchild and looking forward to arrival of the second. Most importantly, they got on well with their daughters-in-law. That they had settled down so well made it more likely that I would stay in Australia. I already had an appointment for an interview, but not with the police. If I got the job I would be a civil servant.
After a lot of thought I decided to rent out my house rather than sell it. If things didn’t work out in Australia I’d have something to come back to and the rental would give me income. A week before I was booked to fly to Australia, Robert and the team threw a surprise leaving party for me in a private function room in a pub and presented me with a state of the art digital camera.
The following day we received the news that George Wilson had died.
‘The best thing for him,’ Robert said. ‘It’s what he wanted.’
‘And the best thing for the country too,’ I agreed. ‘Spared the expense of keeping him in jail.’
My cases were packed and the estate agent had organized the letting of my house to a young married couple. I spent my last night in England with Robert. We left at six in the morning to drive to Heathrow. Just before we drove out of Cornwall we stopped at a motorway service station for breakfast and Robert bought a local paper. There was a photo of Bridget on the front page. When her house in Farrier Way was repaired she was going to sell it and move to Ireland with her mother.
Robert shook his head. ‘Poor girl.’
After I’d checked in Robert and I had a cup of coffee.
‘You will come and visit me?’ I said keeping my voice steady.
He reached over and took my hand. ‘Of course.’
‘You taught me a lot,’ I said.
‘And you taught me a lot too.’
I grunted. ‘What? It sure wasn’t how to be a good detective.’
‘In my disappointment about not getting the promotion I was arrogant. I thought you’d been promoted over me because of political correctness. But it wasn’t, was it?’
‘I think it was, actually. They needed to promote a woman to counter the claims of sexism.’
He shook his head. ‘No. It was because you had great courage.’
Talking about it embarrassed me so I’d never told him. But one night after we’d made love he’d asked me about my scars. Even then I’d brushed it aside and told him they were caused by an accident.
‘Courage?’
‘You went to the help of a girl who was being attacked by two men, one of whom was armed with a knife.’
I blushed. ‘How did you find out?’
‘Superintendent Venning told me. He didn’t want to loose either of us. I think he even wanted us to work together again, so he used that to try and persuade me. I think he was right. We could work together again – we both know where we went wrong and we’ve learnt valuable lessons.’
‘I made too many mistakes,’ I said, fighting the temptation to rush to the check-in and tell them I’d changed my mind. ‘If it hadn’t been for you the case would never have been solved. Phoebe and Stuart would have had suspicion hanging over them. Even worse, George might have burnt their house down.’
/> ‘I doubt it,’ said Robert. ‘The stress would have been too much for him. Knowing that he’d killed a baby and an innocent man made him ill. I don’t think he would have had the will to try again. Desperation drove him to want to kill Phoebe. He was too weak to solve his financial problems any other way. He was a heavy smoker, he ran a car when there was no need to – he lived close to the town and should have walked, but was too lazy. Instead of stealing money from the writers’ group he should have got a job, but he thought he was too good for anything as menial as working in a supermarket.’
‘Bridget might have burnt Phoebe’s house down – she was so certain that she was the murderer.’
He grinned. ‘You’re determined to make yourself look as incompetent as possible.’
‘Being a detective is too important to – ’
‘What would you have done if I’d told you my suspicions when I saw how the street was numbered?’
I laughed.
‘What?’
‘It would have depended on my mood at the time. And that’s another reason why I’m giving up being a detective. I’m a victim of my hormones. If you’d told me when I was in a good mood, I would have agreed that we should investigate that aspect. In a bad mood I would have told you to stop being stupid and accused you of trying everything to get Phoebe off the hook because you liked her.’
‘You’re very honest, Sharon. I’ll miss you. If things don’t work out in Australia please come back.’ He smiled. ‘You might hate all that sun and the beaches . . . ’ His smile faded, leaving him looking lost and unhappy.
I’d finished my coffee. I didn’t want to cry, so I stood up. ‘I’d better go through now.’
Hand in hand we walked to the doors. Neither of us spoke again. We hugged. We kissed. Then I turned away and walked through the doors.
I don’t know if he’ll come to Australia. I don’t know how long I’ll stay there. Maybe forever. Maybe not. But I’ll give it a chance.
THE END
For information about the author, acknowledgements and her other books please read on:
By the same author :
You can download a Kindle version or buy a paperback of each title at amazon.com
The Doll Collection – a crime novel:
Vissi d’arte – a story of love and music:
Eumeralla – a family saga about secrets, tragedy and love:
For more information please go to:
www.joannaauthor.co.uk
www.outbackwriter.blogspot.com
Acknowledgements
Special thanks to:
Annie Morris for reading the manuscript and giving me valuable feedback.
Richard Waters who provided the title and suggested the idea for the cover.
Peter Stephen-Ward who took the cover photograph, designed the cover and set up the ebook for publication.
Cover photograph taken at Lanhydrock, Bodmin, Cornwall.
Cover image with kind permission of the National Trust.
www.nationaltrust.org.uk/lanhydrock
The Doll Collection: the blurb! Read on: –
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The Doll Collection – a crime novel
A couple and their young son burn to death in a house fire. A girl dies from a nut allergy. A woman falls under a train in the rush hour. An accountant falls down the steps to his basement. Their deaths appear to be accidents. Only Gloria knows they were murders because she murdered them.
Every time Gloria kills someone she buys a doll.
Maurice is a shy young man who has had a nervous breakdown. Already the victim of an unscrupulous landlord, he advertises for a lodger to solve his financial problems. Gloria moves in. For a while all seems well. Then his life becomes a nightmare.
Gloria becomes obsessed by the people who live next door. The bottom flat is owned by a young couple who play in an amateur orchestra. Envious of their glamour and lifestyle she spies on them. When she hears the man refer to her as Humpty Dumpty she decides to kill him and his wife. They are friendly with Odette, the girl in the upstairs flat. When Gloria suspects that Maurice is interested in Odette she works out how she can kill all three of her neighbours and make it look as if Maurice was the murderer. This time she wants her murders to look like murders.
Table of Contents
Copyright
1 APRIL 2008 Saturday Morning ROBERT
2 SHARON
3 ROBERT
4 SHARON
5 ROBERT Saturday Evening
6 SHARON
7 ROBERT
8 SHARON
9 ROBERT
10 SHARON
11 ROBERT
12 SHARON
13 ROBERT
14 SHARON
15 ROBERT
16 SHARON
17 ROBERT
18 SHARON
By the same author
Acknowledgements
The Doll Collection: the blurb!
Suspicion Points Page 23