Strategy

by Anita Waller

  Sebastian carefully edged his way out of bed, picked up both coffee cups, and leaned over to check Jenny was fully asleep. She didn’t stir. He breathed a sigh of relief and went downstairs. Covering his back, in case Jenny came downstairs wanting to know why he had disappeared, he put on a fresh percolator of coffee, and took out two clean cups.

  Crossing to the table, he opened his laptop and typed in the word ‘Carbrook’. Google didn’t let him down.

  15

  Erin was unhappy. The idea behind the barbecue on Saturday had been to introduce Sebastian to her close family; she had felt things were getting stronger between the two of them, and she wanted approval, particularly her dad’s.

  But, now, she wished she hadn’t. They had gone to bed on Saturday night after waving goodbye to their guests, but their love-making had been instigated by her, not by him, and she had felt his heart wasn’t really in it. Part of the attraction with Sebastian had always been their conversation, and always after making love, they had chatted, before finally falling asleep in each other’s arms. Not on Saturday.

  He had been asleep almost as soon as the act was over, and she had known something was off-kilter.

  Breakfast had been a quiet affair, and they had made sandwiches for lunch he hadn’t really eaten. And he was gone.

  It had almost seemed like a final goodbye. A small kiss on her cheek, after which he had put his case in the boot and vanished. There had been no follow-up text to say he was missing her already, or any of the usual thoughtful things he did.

  She felt uneasy, unhappy, un-everything – and knew there was nothing she could do about it. She had to go to work, and wouldn’t be back home until Saturday morning at the earliest; her route for the week covered most of Cornwall.

  She went into the kitchen and set up the ironing board. Her suitcase was open on the table, waiting for freshly laundered clothes to be placed in it, and she switched on the iron.

  Erin’s mind was in turmoil, only exemplified by her accidentally touching the side of her forefinger with the edge of the iron. She burst out crying.

  The cold water soothed the finger, but nothing was soothing her soul. She didn’t want to lose Sebastian, yet, she sensed she already had.

  An hour later, with the suitcase packed and standing in the hall ready for an early departure next morning and the iron and board stowed away until they were required once more, she sank down on to the settee.

  She’d be damned if she would let him just walk away like that; he was worth fighting for, and she was very good at fighting.

  She picked up her phone and texted him.

  Hello my love. You ok? You seemed quiet. Just finished packing for tomorrow. Will miss you so much. Back Sat am – breakfast together? Love you. Xxx

  When she went to bed at nine o’clock, there still hadn’t been a response.

  ‘I fell asleep!’

  Sebastian smiled at Jenny, her tousled hair and long legs below the hem of his t-shirt stirring feelings in his groin which might mean a return to the bedroom.

  ‘I know. I left you to sleep. Didn’t you sleep much last night?’

  She shook her head. ‘No, I missed you.’

  Jenny walked across to the kitchen area and poured a glass of sparkling water. Drinking deeply, she emptied it and faced him.

  ‘I needed that. Did we ought to think about food?’

  ‘Takeaway? Go out?’

  ‘Seb, did you never cook?’

  He looked sheepish. ‘Only in times of dire emergency. I’ve got all the takeaways on speed dial, though. That’s cooking, isn’t it?’

  They settled on Indian food, and she went upstairs to shower and change.

  Sebastian watched her climb the stairs, a thoughtful expression on his face. So, she was Jenny Carbrook – had presumably had to keep and use her real name for employment reasons. She was part of the Ray Carbrook investigation, presumably his daughter-in-law. What had gone wrong? Why had she left Adam and Grace when she walked away? What would force any loving mother to do that?

  Why her current situation? Mark had seemed a good man, as had Michael. Without probing too deeply, it seemed Michael had known Anna, Ray’s wife, many years ago, and had fathered Mark and his brother. He couldn’t remember his name, but he could remember Erin saying they were twins.

  Secrets must abound in such a close-knit family. What secrets were being hidden by Jenny? He wished he had listened more when Erin had been telling him the story. He could only vaguely remember what she had said, although Google had come up with information on the accident which had claimed Anna’s life, and the murder which had taken Ray.

  He picked up his phone and rang in the order for delivery.

  His decision was he would remain silent, for the moment; he didn’t even know if she was legally free to marry him, so to keep her, he had to bury the questions. And bury his head in the sand.

  It proved to be a quiet evening. They were on their second bottle of wine, when his phone pinged. It was on the coffee table, and he reached for it quickly. His screen showed just a telephone number, one he recognised. He silently said a thank you to some unknown God, blessing his decision to remove her name so only the number showed.

  ‘Just business,’ he said, and slipped the phone into his shirt pocket. ‘I’ll deal with it tomorrow. I’m with my lady tonight, not my company.’

  16

  ‘Kids,’ Mark called, the receiver held away from his mouth. ‘Can you hear me?’

  He heard two distinct yeses, and grinned. ‘Nan and Granddad want to know if you’d like to go to Albufeira.’

  ‘Yes,’ from Grace.

  ‘Yes! Yes!’ from Adam, and Mark imagined him punching the air.

  ‘Where’s Albufeira?’ from both of them.

  ‘Portugal,’ he called, and returned the receiver to his mouth. ‘The answer seems to be yes; they had no idea where it was, and it was still yes, so I guess you guys could take them anywhere, and it wouldn’t matter. What date did you say?’

  He listened carefully and made a note on the telephone pad. ‘17 August, but you want them on the sixteenth. That’s no problem at all. Thanks, you two. Talk soon.’

  He replaced the receiver and hoped things were getting better between the March family and the Carbrook family.

  He wandered into the lounge, feeling a little out of sorts. His earlier visit to a sandwich shop in the centre of Lincoln had caused him to bump into DI Gainsborough who had led the investigation into the three murders. They had chatted for a few minutes, with Gainsborough telling him it was very much a scaled-down investigation, but it would never be closed until the murderer was found. Mark had heard the same words on a million television programmes; he stifled the smile which had threatened to curl his lips because of the serious expression on Gainsborough’s face. He genuinely believed what he was saying. Mark didn’t.

  But, it had renewed the memories of the awful night when he had received the phone call to say his father had been found fatally wounded. It had never occurred to him, not even for a second, his wife was the one wielding the knife, and he had ended up in Sheffield, collecting both Anna and Jenny from Anna’s new home.

  Had Anna known? According to the letters, she hadn’t – but how had she not known Jenny had been out of the flat for around three hours on that night? Had they planned it together, to get rid of a manipulative, bullying rapist of a man? Was that the reason for the argument which had led Anna to storm out of Lindum Lodge and die at Dunham Bridge?

  He closed his eyes. He didn’t want to think any more. He wanted to sleep. And then, he heard the beautiful notes of a tune he recognised but couldn’t dredge the name up from the depths of his brain. He heard Michael open the door of his room, just to stand and listen to the tune being played. He walked down the short corridor to join him.

  ‘Beautiful, isn’t it?’ Mark said. ‘You know what it’s called?’

  ‘It’s on the tip of my tongue …’

  ‘But, does it matter? It’
s all about the tune, not the title. She’s brilliant, isn’t she? And I don’t think she’s any idea just how good she is.’

  The tune ended, and immediately, Grace moved on to the piece she was performing solo at the concert.

  ‘Whisky?’ Mark asked, and Michael nodded, following his son to the lounge. Mark poured the drink and handed it to him.

  ‘The kids are going to Portugal on the16th of August, so you’ve got a two-week break from them. They’re going with Sally and Tommy.’

  ‘I’ll keep out of your way. I’ll go home for the time they’re away.’

  Mark laughed. ‘I didn’t mean that! I meant, maybe you might want to take a holiday, have some breathing space away from the kids. I don’t want you going home and being on your own. We all enjoy having you stay with us. Don’t ever think otherwise, Dad.’

  ‘Oh … well, I might consider a couple of weeks in the sun somewhere. You?’

  ‘Not an earthly, this year. We’ll get on the top of this job, and, maybe after Christmas, I’ll take the kids away.’

  ‘Well, if it’s okay, I’d like to go with you. We could take them to see Tim …?’

  ‘We could. I’m ringing him later, so I’ll tell him.’

  ‘He’ll be okay with me going?’

  ‘He’ll be good about it, trust me. Tim hasn’t got a bad bone in his body. That’s why I couldn’t tell him about the letters; he would have seen my point of view, but it would have sat so heavily with him for the rest of his life. And that’s not because Ray was murdered; it’s because of the other two deaths. Caro’s the same. I’ve had to keep it a secret, but one thing I do know, if it does ever come out, they’ll never forgive me for not telling them.’

  ‘Then, it’s really in Jenny’s hands, isn’t it? As long as she keeps away, doesn’t cause any problems, the letters can stay under the mattress.’

  They sat, enjoying their drinks in companionable silence. Eventually, Michael rose, wished his son goodnight, and headed for his apartment.

  Mark checked the time, and picked up the phone to ring Tim.

  When Tim finally answered, he was out of breath. ‘Yo, bro! We were just on our way out. You trying to kill me? I had to run to get this.’

  Mark laughed. ‘I can tell. You both okay?’

  ‘We’re fine. Look, can I ring you back? We’ve got a cab waiting, because we’re going to a reception thing where there’s alcohol, so we’re not driving.’

  ‘Sure,’ Mark responded. ‘Tomorrow? About this time?’

  ‘I’ll make sure I’m here.’

  They cut the call, and Mark sat back with a smile. He had seen Tim so low when Ray had all but destroyed him on that awful night so many years ago, and now, he sounded happy, very happy.

  He switched off all the lights and climbed the stairs; checking the children were okay was a nightly ritual, and after kissing the bits of their heads showing outside the duvet, he clicked off their lamps.

  ‘Did I rush you?’

  Jenny looked up, startled at the words. ‘What?’

  ‘With the engagement ring. I mean …’

  She placed her bookmark in her page, and closed the book. ‘Surprised me, maybe, but no, I didn’t feel rushed. Why?’

  ‘Because we’ve only known each other three months.’ Sebastian paused for a moment. ‘And we don’t really know very much about each other.’

  ‘You want to call it off?’

  ‘God, no! I’d marry you tomorrow. I just don’t get much from you about how you’re feeling, what’s going on in your life, or anything.’

  She placed the book on the coffee table and walked across to where he was sitting with his laptop open. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she hugged him.

  ‘I’m sorry. I’m just naturally a subdued person, and I’ve been on my own for quite some time now; it’s difficult making small talk when I’ve been used to making no talk.’

  ‘How long have you been on your own?’

  ‘Oh, about two and a half years.’

  He felt himself go still. The newspaper articles had mentioned her, so she had clearly still been part of the Carbrook family just over a year ago, when Ray had been killed. He couldn’t challenge her, not without revealing his own connection to that same family.

  Sebastian felt completely at a loss. He didn’t know what to do, what to think. Why did she need to keep everything so secret? What had gone so disastrously wrong in her life she had been forced to walk away without her children? And she clearly had no access to them.

  Maybe it was time to probe a little. ‘When we’re married, Jenny, have you thought about us having a family?’

  Now, it was her turn to go still, and he sensed it, as she removed her arms from around his neck and sat at the table with him.

  ‘Do you want a family?’

  ‘Yes, I think I do. I’d like to have a little West to inherit all this.’ He waved his arms around. ‘You?’

  ‘I’d love to have a baby. My only stipulation is we wait until after the wedding before we try.’

  He reached across and grasped her hand. ‘Agreed.’

  So, that hadn’t worked. She had said nothing about having two children already.

  ‘Can I go back to my book now, or do you need to sort our lives out with anything else?’ She laughed.

  He grinned at her. ‘Go and read, woman. I’ll have another ten minutes on here, and I’ll close the laptop down for the night.’

  Sebastian’s thoughts swung towards Erin. He had been desperately trying to remember everything she had told him about her family; she had explained it was a very new family, but she had never mentioned Jenny, just Mark and the two children. Jenny must have left Mark before he met her, but how much before was the question. Was she still with him when Anna died just before Christmas?

  He knew he needed to do more research, if he wanted answers, and he did want answers. If Jenny wouldn’t tell him her secrets, he would find them out himself. He couldn’t do the research at home, but he could certainly do it at work.

  He put the laptop away and joined his fiancée on the settee. They sat in silence for ten minutes, and then, he dug her in the ribs.

  ‘I’m bored.’

  ‘Read a book.’

  ‘A book?’

  ‘Yes. It’s a thing that measures about eight inches by six inches. Usually got pages with a story written on them.’

  He took the book off her and looked at it. ‘You’re right. You got any more of these strange things?’

  ‘One or two.’

  ‘Just one or two?’

  ‘Boxes.’

  ‘Where are they?’

  ‘In the boot of my car. I couldn’t carry them when I brought the rest of my stuff.’

  ‘Big boxes, then?‘

  She tried not to laugh. ‘Biggish.’

  ‘So, I need bookcases now?’

  ‘Maybe.’

  ‘I don’t think there’s any “maybe” about it. You can’t turn that tiny little car into a mobile library.’

  ‘It’s not a tiny little car.’

  ‘So, when you go supermarket shopping, where do you put the bags? If you’ve got a couple of big boxes of books in the boot …’

  ‘Three.’

  ‘Three big boxes?’

  She nodded. ‘I like books.’

  He sighed. ‘We’ll go choose some bookcases at the weekend. And tomorrow, I’ll bring your boxes in. I can’t believe you left them in the car.’

  ‘I didn’t want to clutter the place up – there’s a lot of books. And in answer to your half a question, I put the shopping on the back seat.’

  He laughed. ‘I love you, Jenny Carbrook.’

  ‘And I love you. You want a book, then?’

  ‘When you’ve loaded up our new bookcases, maybe I’ll have a look at what you have. Or maybe, I’ll buy some of my own.’

  ‘What do you like?’

  He moved towards the kitchen. ‘Oh, you know, adventure stuff. Like Lee Childs, and I’ve been known
to start a couple of Stephen King frighteners. What do you like to read?’

  The kettle began to make a noise, and he missed her answer.

  ‘Murder, murder’s my favourite.’

  17

  Mark spoke to both Tim and Caro within an hour. He grinned to himself, as he realised they hadn’t spoken for a couple of months, and then, two phone calls with both siblings saying how they suddenly missed chatting.

  His conversation with Tim had been the most uplifting; they had talked at length about Grace’s remarkable, hitherto unknown, talent, and Tim had said how proud he was of her. Mark explained Michael wanted all four of them to visit Florida, and somewhat to Mark’s surprise, Tim was enthusiastic.

  ‘I’ve had time to think about things, to talk to Steve, and this man is my genetic father. I should know him. He’s got to be better than the father I thought I’d been given, hasn’t he?’

  ‘He’ll be delighted, Tim, and once he gets to know you for himself, it will stop the questions about what you’re like,’ Mark responded with a laugh.

  They finished the call, and only five minutes later, Caro rang. He felt he had lost his younger sister. The age difference of fifteen years meant they hadn’t been all that close when they were growing up, and Caro moving to work in Paris, once she reached adulthood, hadn’t helped matters.

  And if he was completely honest, he was a bit annoyed she was ringing just to see if there had been any progress at all in the murder cases. He told her what DI Gainsborough had said, and she seemed satisfied with the answer. She was delighted with the news about Grace, and after sending her love to all of them, she disconnected with a bye and a kiss blown down the line.

  Half an hour later, just as he opened his book for five minutes of reading before going to sleep, his phone rang again. Tim.

  ‘I’ve already spoken to someone called Tim today,’ he said.

  ‘Yes, but did that Tim have a question he needed answering?’

  ‘Ah … no, he didn’t.’