The Frozen Shroud

by Martin Edwards

  ‘The last thing I want you is for you to make yourself scarce. Hannah, listen, I’m pleading here. Won’t you reconsider?’

  ‘I’ve done plenty of considering. My mind’s made up. End of.’

  The brush-off sounded more brutal than she’d meant. His tone changed into something wintry and quite unlike Marc.

  ‘So who is your urgent appointment with? Not Daniel Kind.’

  Who did he think he was? ‘You’re right. And you also need to start minding your own business.’

  ‘You are my business.’ His voice was clotted with anger and distress. Oh Jesus, was he about to burst into tears? ‘You’re seeing Greg Wharf, aren’t you?’

  Hannah didn’t trust herself to answer without making things worse. He didn’t have a monopoly on anger and distress. She killed the call.

  She still had her head in her hands when Les Bryant looked in to say goodnight.

  Hannah stood at the door of Balotelli’s and scanned the bar. Terri was perched on a high stool by the counter, as unmissable as a bird of paradise on a dry stone wall. Since their last get together at a curry evening during the Kendal Festival of Food, she’d dyed her hair a vivid red to match her lips and fingernails. To have poured herself into that tiny skirt, she must have lost close to a stone in quick time. But then, Terri never did things by halves. She was wearing lashings of musky perfume, and she’d already finished her first Bacardi and coke of the evening. At least, Hannah hoped it was her first.

  ‘Sorry I’m late.’

  ‘No problem. Someone’s got to keep the thin blue line intact, eh?’

  ‘Easier said than done. The ACC is downsizing my team. Left to her, the cold cases would freeze.’

  ‘Stupid bitch,’ Terri said. ‘What are you drinking? Please, not orange juice again.’

  ‘I was planning to drive home tonight, stone cold sober.’

  ‘Forget it. Call a cab, like me.’

  ‘Okay, you win. I’ll have a glass of Sauvignon Blanc. Small one.’ This might just turn into a very long evening. ‘Stay with me at Undercrag overnight. It’s safer than going home. What if Stefan’s lurking in the shadows when the cab drops you at your front door?’

  ‘It’s okay, thanks, I’m sorted for tonight.’

  So that explained why she’d gone overboard on the perfume. Hannah peered at her friend. ‘What have you arranged?’

  ‘God, I wouldn’t like to be a suspect you took in for questioning. No third degree, please, I’m not in the mood.’

  ‘There’s something different about you. Not just your hair colour. Which I love, by the way.’

  ‘Thanks, sweetheart. I refuse to think about all the petrochemicals that go into caring for it. As for what else has changed, you’re the detective, I’ll give you three guesses. Sorry, deductions.’

  ‘You haven’t …’

  Terri smirked. ‘I might have.’

  Well, well. So she’d finally gone for it. Those bags under Terri’s eyes, legacy of countless late nights and chip suppers, and cause of more angst than all her cellulite, wrinkles and weight issues put together, had vanished. There was still a touch of swelling, but any bruises that remained had been skilfully camouflaged. The pair of them had often debated cosmetic surgery. Hannah had no time for it, and she’d given Marc short shrift when he made the mistake of wondering aloud if implants might be worth the money. Terri was more than happy to give Mother Nature a helping hand, if only she could afford it.

  ‘How much did that cost, if you don’t mind my asking?’

  ‘My lips are sealed – and not because I’ve gone in for a trout pout!’ Terri was gleeful. ‘Honestly, I can’t imagine why I’ve waited so long. It’s not that I’m such a horribly vain old cow. Deep down, I’m shy and retiring, happy to fade into the background.’ This last was an outrageous untruth, and Hannah struggled not to gasp. ‘It’s about changing my life, and boosting morale, and the plan has worked a treat. A single day being treated like royalty in this posh private hospital, and hey presto! I look ten years younger and feel like a teenager on the pull again.’

  ‘You look fantastic. Then again, you always do.’

  Terri squeezed her hand. ‘Thanks for not scolding me, Han. I know you disapprove.’

  ‘I’d never do it myself, but everyone has to make up their own mind. Free country.’

  ‘Is it? Sometimes I wonder. But really, the surgery has made such a difference. Especially with this palaver about Stefan and everything.’

  ‘The big issue with Stefan Deyna is how to kick him out of your life.’

  Not that Hannah was necessarily well qualified to advise on dumping a troublesome ex-partner, given how hard she was finding it to ditch a second-hand bookseller who, for all his faults, was a thousand times gentler than Stefan.

  ‘Sorry I acted like a wet Kleenex when I rang you. He’s behaved like an utter shit, but everything will be fine in the long run.’

  A thought struck Hannah. ‘He didn’t … contribute to the cost of the surgeon, did he?’

  ‘No way!’ Terri squeaked in outrage. ‘What do you take me for? As a matter of fact, he hates my new look. He thinks these changes are about making a brand new me, and for once, he’s dead right.’

  ‘Shall we order some food, if you need to get away before it’s too late?’

  Terri frowned, weighing pros and cons. ‘Actually, I’m desperate for a wee. Back in a minute.’

  If she did want to blend into the scenery, the crimson lips and talons, tight top and black micro-skirt weren’t the right way to go about it. Threading through the salivating office workers who circled the bar, she seemed not to notice the threat she posed to their blood pressure, but Hannah knew she was lapping up the attention. The blink-and-you-miss-it wiggle of the bum was the proof. Oh well, good luck to her. Terri dressed to kill not only because she loved to look great, but as her way of coping. Time after time, life knocked her over, but she never failed to dust herself down and start again.

  Hannah took a quick peek at her emails while she waited. The estate agent said someone was interested in Undercrag. Time to think about where to move next. The house was ideal when they were a couple, but too rambling and expensive for either of them to live there alone. A pity, since she adored the solitude, hidden away from the bustle yet only a stiff walk from the centre of Ambleside. Perhaps the truth was that she was a loner, happiest in her own company, and unsuited to the give-and-take of a long-term relationship. Funny, she’d once imagined she would end up in a conventional marriage with two point four children, maybe working part-time behind the scenes for Cumbria Constabulary. But the clock ticked on, and with each passing year the fantasy existence faded further away.

  ‘Would you care for a drink?’

  A man resembling a pinstriped Friar Tuck had detached himself from a group of middle-aged men in sleek suits that didn’t adequately hide their paunches. They were talking loudly about football, but looked as though they’d never scored in their lives. Bankers out on the razzle after a day spent inflicting further damage on the economy?

  ‘No, thanks.’

  After the day she’d had, she wouldn’t give Jude Law a second glance. To her relief, she saw Terri weaving her way back to her side. The man permitted himself a leer, and when Terri responded with a look she might bestow on a maggot emerging from a chocolate cake, he scuttled off to the safety of debate about the destiny of the Premier League title.

  ‘They never learn,’ she said.

  ‘Perhaps we don’t, either,’ Hannah said.

  ‘Yeah, well. Change of plan. Can I take you up on your kind offer? I’d love to stay over. I was bothered because you need to work in the morning, but one late night won’t hurt, eh?’

  What plan had she changed? ‘Are you sure it suits you?’

  ‘What could be better than spending the night with my best mate?’

  Historically, she’d preferred to spend the night with her latest unworthy loser. The reticence to explain Plan A suggested that Han
nah wouldn’t approve of it.

  ‘Just like old times, then?’

  Terri’s face broke into the smile that always melted Hannah’s heart, even when they’d been fighting cat and dog. They’d met at school, and bonded as fast as superglue, thanks to a shared hatred of their games teacher. Terri was the daredevil, forever getting into trouble; Hannah provided the shoulder to cry on. She was the one who felt uncomfortable unless she played by the rules. Was the secret of their enduring friendship – that each of them wanted to be more like the other?

  ‘What shall we have, then?’ Hannah picked up a menu. ‘A poster in the window said a Neil Diamond tribute act starts in half an hour. Let’s order a bottle of something, and then if he’s hopeless, the booze will dull the pain.’

  ‘You still know how to get round me, kid.’ Terri clapped her hands, as enthusiastic as she had been back in Year 7. ‘We’re gonna have a great night, aren’t we? Just like old times.’

  Before Marc came along, in other words. They’d still seen plenty of each other, but the combination of long hours at work and Marc’s tendency to monopolise meant that Hannah often had to say no when Terri asked her out. Hannah had never married, while Terri had trotted down the aisle no fewer than three times, but Terri was always up for a night on the town, and if her man of the moment didn’t like it, he could lump it.

  A young and rather handsome waiter called Giovanni found them a table in the restaurant, chatting them up as he did so. Morale duly boosted, Terri demanded to know the state of play with Marc.

  ‘He’s becoming a pest. Nothing like as awful as the hassle you’re experiencing at the moment, but …’

  ‘You’re sure it’s over and done with between you?’

  ‘Cross my heart and hope to die.’

  Terri had gone out for a drink with Marc before things started to get heavy with Stefan, and she admitted to fancying him. Was she was paving the way for a shift from casual flirtation to full-on affair?

  Hannah’s face gave her away, and Terri put down her glass and said, ‘Hey, don’t get the wrong idea. Not many women would kick him out of bed, but we never got further than a peck on the cheek, and we’re not going to. Trust me.’

  ‘I wouldn’t be upset.’ Hannah laughed. ‘You’d be doing me a favour. I can’t wait for him to get fixed up with someone else, so that he’ll stop bugging me. He and I both need to move on.’

  ‘Watch my lips. I’m definitely not moving on with Marc, that’s not an answer to your prayers. You ought to try my method. Let him see you canoodling with a new man, so he understands he’s history.’ She leant across the table. ‘Talking of history, where are you up to with Daniel Kind?’

  ‘Not seen him for ages. Too busy.’

  Terri swallowed a chunk of garlic bread. ‘You’re crazy, you know that? Absolutely off your lovely head. The guy used to be on television, for God’s sake!’

  ‘Am I that shallow?’

  A whoop of laughter. ‘Well, I might be. Why not? That ditzy journalist he was shagging has gone back to London. I reckon he only teamed up with her on the rebound after the other girl topped herself in Oxford. If you ask me, he’s done his grieving. He’ll be looking to settle down with someone else before long, you mark my words. Snap him up while he’s still on the market.’

  Hannah groaned. ‘You’re impossible.’

  ‘Come on, sweetheart. Joking apart, you obviously enjoy his company, and he fancies you like mad.’

  ‘You’re imagining it.’

  ‘Trust me. I’m never wrong about these things.’

  ‘Of course you are.’

  ‘Well, anyway. I’m not wrong about Daniel. He’s only held back because he’s had some bruising experiences in the past. That’s why he comes over as introspective. But once you get past the barriers, he’s a fun guy. Go for it, kid. Hurry now, while stocks last.’

  ‘It’s not that simple.’

  ‘Bollocks. You enjoy making things complicated.’ Terri slurped down the rest of her wine and glared. ‘Or is that the old inferiority complex? You never think you’re good enough, do you?’

  Hannah almost choked on the last chunk of her spicy pizza. ‘What inferiority complex?’

  ‘Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m on about. You always hold back, you’re worse than Daniel. Shit-scared of showing your true feelings. This mad idea that you’re unworthy. It’s why you kept old Ben Kind at bay all those years ago, isn’t it?’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Hannah demanded.

  Terri refilled her glass, and downed most of the wine in a single gulp. ‘He fancied you rotten, but you worshipped him and thought you weren’t old enough or good enough to lick the great detective’s boots. I can’t believe you couldn’t see it, Hannah, you must have been blind. The man would have loved nothing better than a good licking, if it came from you. And now he’s dead, and you’re on the way to making the same stupid mistake with his son.’

  ‘Quite a speech.’ Hannah tasted her drink. The hand holding the glass was trembling.

  ‘Is that all you can say?’ Terri threw up her arms in frustration, knocking the wine bottle to the floor in the process. Giovanni scurried over to check everything was all right, and once he’d been despatched for the dessert menu, she said, ‘Sorry to be blunt, but you did ask. And it did need to be said.’

  ‘I suppose I should say thanks?’

  ‘Don’t come over all offended. You know I never speak with forked tongue. At least, not to you.’

  Terri was actually a seasoned and accomplished fibber when it suited her, and Hannah was sure she was being economical with the facts about Stefan. That was another story. Reluctantly, she recognised enough truth in the caricature of her as a shrinking violet not to start a row. In vino veritas.

  With exaggerated patience, she said, ‘I’m a career police officer. Daniel is an academic who travels the world, lecturing and signing books and all that stuff. Even if he was keen, it would never work. Not long term.’

  ‘Never say never!’

  ‘Isn’t that the motto that’s messed up your life more times than either of us can count?’

  Terri pretended to recoil. ‘Ouch!’

  Her fit of pique subsiding, Hannah managed a grin. ‘Don’t dish it out, if you can’t take it.’

  Terri roared with laughter. She had an alarmingly high tolerance for alcohol, but the amount she’d put away was having an effect.

  ‘Okay, I deserve that. But you get the point? We only live once. Gotta make the most of it. A woman like you should aim high. Higher than that detective sergeant of yours, not to put too fine a point on it.’

  ‘What DS of mine?’

  ‘Come off it! You’re not the only smart detective sitting at this table, you know. The way you slag him off is such a red herring. Even that gay cop you used to be so pally with, he never made such an impression on you. Those were the days, when you knew better than to mess on your own doorstep.’

  ‘Quite the amateur psychologist this evening, aren’t you?’ Hannah’s temper was rising again.

  Unrepentant, Terri smirked. ‘We’re like two agony aunts, really, forever looking out for each other.’

  ‘Well, I’m not screwing Greg Wharf, okay? Which means I don’t need to take care over him, thanks all the same.’

  The intro to ‘Sweet Caroline’ began to thud out of the overhead speakers and a man in a bomber jacket strode onto the stage. He was wearing a black-and-white striped bob hat and scarf, Newcastle United colours. A couple of middle-aged women at the front of the room whooped with delight as, one by one, he ripped off jacket, scarf and hat to reveal a sparkly shirt and leather trousers at least a size too small. As a stripper, he was no Phyllis Dixey, but his fan club didn’t care.

  Terri contemplated the wannabe superstar’s trousers for a couple of minutes before she said, ‘You may not be sleeping with him yet, but it’s on the cards, isn’t it? I took a peek at your star sign today. It said you were on the verge of a momentous event, one which wil
l shake your world to its very foundations. Well, my advice is, make the earth move with Daniel Kind instead.’

  By the time they were in the back of the taxi, easing through the lanes that led to Undercrag, Hannah had mellowed, and Terri seemed, through some metabolic miracle, to be sobering up. The crooning of the wannabe Neil had had a strangely tranquilising effect.

  ‘We need to talk about Stefan,’ Hannah said.

  Terri gazed into the darkness of the night, humming ‘I’m a Believer’ slightly out of tune. ‘Sounds like the title of a film.’

  ‘Don’t dodge the issue. When you called me, you were scared to death. I heard it in your voice, and I didn’t like it one bit.’

  ‘Sorry, Hannah. It was selfish of me to disturb you at work, especially when you’re under the cosh.’

  ‘All I’m bothered about is making sure that man does you no harm. Stalkers are dangerous. You have to take them seriously.’

  ‘Oh, I am taking him seriously. You’re offering me a roof over my head tonight, and tomorrow I’m out at a party with … the people I work for.’

  ‘For Hallowe’en? How can you be sure Stefan won’t follow you? Trick-or-treaters get everywhere, he may sense an opportunity to make mischief.’

  ‘The party is at Oz and Melody’s house, out in the middle of nowhere. Stefan will never find his way to Ravenbank.’

  After years of working for herself, Terri had found the going tough in a wintry economic climate. At a jazz concert, she’d met the wife of the man whose events company had organised it, and blagged herself a job. Early days, but she seemed to love it. Once the honeymoon period came to an end, though, Hannah suspected her friend would probably hate not being able to please herself. Most of her jobs had ended in tears; she was suited by temperament to being self-employed and answering to no one. Had so many of her relationships with men fallen apart because – though she would sooner die than admit it – she was better off single?