Deep Water

by Christine Poulson

  Rachel had never met Jennifer, had never even seen her, but she knew what she looked like. A few months ago she had picked one of Daniel’s books off the shelf and a photo had dropped out: a snapshot of the young couple outside a register office. As she scrutinized it, her first feeling was one of relief. Jennifer wasn’t as beautiful as she had imagined. Her second thought was how very young they were. Daniel’s face was so open, so innocent, so undefended. The man she knew had been approaching middle-age when she met him, a little worn, more than a little guarded. She’d sensed how terribly he had been hurt.

  She couldn’t understand Daniel wanting to take on the case. It wasn’t fair, the way Jennifer had come back into Daniel’s life – into their lives. It was as if she had crooked her little finger and he had come running. A flash of anger was followed instantly by a pang of guilt. No one deserved to die so young and in such a terrible way, leaving a child behind.

  She had reached the transept underneath the octagonal tower. Without pausing to look up, she turned left and made her way down the dark passage that led off the transept and, footsteps echoing, emerged into the airy space of the Lady Chapel with its high vaulted ceiling. There seemed to be as much glass as stone and marble so that even on the dimmest days the room was full of light. Once the Lady Chapel had glowed with colour, but during the Reformation, the windows had been smashed, the pedestals emptied of their saints, and the delicately carved figures defaced.

  Rachel sat down on one of the stone seats set in niches around the wall. A couple of tourists, a middle-aged couple with guide book and camera, were wandering around, but soon they left and Rachel had the place to herself. She let the silence settle around her. She gazed up at the statue of the Virgin Mary. Her arms were raised in exultation, and golden hair flowed down her back. She wore a dress of a wonderful lapis lazuli blue with a golden girdle. Rachel had been raised as a Quaker, but over the last few years she had grown to understand the Catholic veneration of the Virgin. If anyone could understand the joy and pain of motherhood, it had to be her.

  Chloe had been three months old when she was diagnosed as severely anaemic. When she didn’t respond to treatment, they carried out a battery of tests, and at nine months Chloe was diagnosed with Diamond-Blackfan anaemia. Wandering around Ely in a daze of misery with Chloe asleep in her pushchair, Rachel had gone into the cathedral and found herself in the Lady Chapel. She read the placard describing its desecration: It is a place of brokenness, reminding us of our broken world. She had lit a candle for Chloe.

  The next few months had been a roller-coaster ride of hopes raised and dashed, and Rachel had returned to the Lady Chapel many times. Yes, Chloe had Diamond-Blackfan anaemia, but a bone marrow transplant might offer a cure. Yes, Rachel or Dan might be a suitable match but, no, it turned out that they weren’t. But yes, the chances of finding an unrelated donor were high. Ah, but no, they weren’t because Chloe had a rare tissue type that she had inherited from Dan, and there were no matches on the register of bone marrow donors.

  Someone was practising on the organ. Trills and runs of notes floated into the Lady Chapel.

  Daniel is married to me now, Rachel thought, and that’s all that matters. The birth of Chloe had turned them into a family and that was something he had never had with Jennifer. Jennifer had been a mistake and the way that she had betrayed Daniel showed that.

  Rachel got up and went over to where the candles were kept. She lit a candle for Chloe and stuck it upright in the stone bowl of sand. She gazed into the flame and lost herself for a few moments in a wordless prayer for Chloe. Then she did put into words her prayer that God would be with everyone who was trying to find a cure for Diamond-Blackfan anaemia, in particular Katie Flanagan. Today she hesitated, then she lit another candle. She didn’t know the name of the little boy who was now motherless, but she could still pray for him. Silently she told Jennifer that she was sorry and would pray for her soul.

  The light in the chapel changed. A cloud must have passed over the sun. Rachel glanced at her watch. If she didn’t hurry, she would be late for her meeting with Katie Flanagan.

  Chapter Six

  Daniel had spent the morning clearing his desk, handing over cases to colleagues, and now his secretary had instructions not to let any calls through unless they were about the new case. The papers relating to it were brought over by Jennifer’s secretary. Daniel promised to call Linstrum at the end of the day. By then he would have reviewed Jennifer’s progress and he’d be able to give a preliminary report on how long the remaining work was likely to take.

  One thing: he could trust her to have done a good job. Good as Daniel knew he was, Jennifer had been even better.

  Daniel’s first degree was in Biological Sciences. He’d gone on to do an MSc in Molecular Genetics, but he’d decided against a career in research. Life in the lab wasn’t for him, and the long-term prospects were precarious even for an outstanding student – which he wasn’t. Turned out, though, that he was a first-rate lawyer. Patent law suited him perfectly. He was endlessly fascinated by other people’s research and he liked the rigour of the law, the way even the most complex questions were in the end settled according to criteria that could be reasoned out and justified.

  Much of Jennifer’s report had come on memory sticks, but there was also a folder of handwritten notes. The sight of Jennifer’s handwriting, the knowledge that she had touched these papers, unsettled him. For years they had worked for the same firm, but six months before the break-up Jennifer had moved on. It had seemed reasonable at the time: the rival firm had held out the prospect of a partnership and she did, in fact, become a partner soon afterwards.

  Later Daniel wondered if she hadn’t already been planning to leave him. What made it worse was that Nick was a close friend, and an old one: he had been at school with Daniel. He was married, too, and the two childless couples had often socialized. When Daniel found out about the affair, Jennifer said, “You must have guessed that something was wrong,” but he hadn’t. It was true that they hadn’t made love as much lately, but they were both very busy, and he thought… But it didn’t matter what he thought. Nothing had prepared him for the pain that swept over him, the sheer incredulity that this could be happening, the sleepless nights that went on for months. There were moments when he thought he was going mad, other moments when he thought that surely she would change her mind and tell him that it was all a mistake. He would have had her back in a heartbeat.

  But eventually he understood that she wasn’t coming back and that a clean break was the best thing. He knew that she was living with Nick in Newnham in Cambridge, and after a while a casual acquaintance happened to mention that they had a son. By then he was with Rachel and she was pregnant with Chloe…

  He came to himself and found that his hands were clenched. Ten minutes had passed. He shook his head. He didn’t have time for this.

  Jennifer’s secretary had prepared a checklist of the documents and PDF files that she had handed over. He worked his way down it, ticking off each item as he located it.

  Everything seemed to be present and correct, and yet… He frowned. There was something not quite right here.

  He turned to the pile of lab books and checked the dates on them. Yes, there was a gap in the sequence. One of them was missing. He ran his finger down the checklist: it wasn’t on there either.

  He rang through to Alison and asked her to call Jennifer’s secretary and track down the missing lab book.

  He was deep into his preliminary reading when Alison buzzed through to say that Jennifer’s secretary had checked and she couldn’t find it.

  Daniel sat back and thought it over. A missing lab book would really put a spanner in the works. But maybe it had been returned to the lab for some reason.

  He rang Honor Masterman. She was pleased to hear from him, said she was glad he was picking up the ball, but when she heard about the lab book, her voice grew serious.

  “Which one is it, which dates?” she asked.
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  When he told her, she said straightaway, “We haven’t got it. And I can be sure about that because I know which one it is. It covers a key period.”

  They were both silent for a moment or two.

  Daniel said, “Most likely it’ll still come to light. But just in case, can you ask your researcher, what’s his name…” He shuffled his papers. “Orville, Will Orville, if he kept other notes?”

  “I don’t think he did, but I will, of course.”

  Daniel put the phone down, thoughtfully. It wasn’t unknown for lab books to get lost. They weren’t supposed to leave the lab, but scientists were as fallible as anyone else. They took work home with them, they left their briefcases in the pub or in unlocked cars. But he was surprised that Jennifer should have been careless. She had been as meticulous in her professional life as she was messy at home.

  No point in panicking, he told himself. It might yet turn up at Jennifer’s office. If it wasn’t there and Orville hadn’t kept notes, there might be a technician with a lab book that covered the period in question. But it was bound to slow things down just when time was of the essence. He decided that with a problem of this magnitude, Linstrum ought to know as soon as possible. At the very least he could put a rocket under Jennifer’s staff and get them to search their offices from top to bottom.

  Daniel had just reached for the phone when Alison buzzed through.

  “I’ve got Bryony on the line – she’s Jennifer Blunt’s secretary. I think you’d better hear what she has to say.”

  There was a click and Bryony said, “Mr Marchmont? I’ve had an idea. She might have taken the lab book home – she did work at weekends sometimes if there was a real rush on. There are some other papers missing and I think that’s where they might be.”

  Of course. Why hadn’t he thought of that?

  “You’re going to go and look?” he asked.

  “I’ve got a spare key – she kept one in the office. I could meet you there, if you like.”

  He hesitated. What if Nick was there?

  As if she’d read his mind, she said, “I’ve checked with her husband and it’s OK. Actually, he’s not living there. They separated a month or two ago.”

  “Fine. I can meet you there in three-quarters of an hour.” As Daniel put down the phone, he felt a surge of… what? Satisfaction? Pleasure, even? So it hadn’t worked out. Good! Serves him right. Then it occurred to him that maybe this time it was Jennifer who had been dumped. Even better.

  Somehow the house in Newnham – a modern one in a small development – wasn’t what Daniel had expected. Of course, being Jennifer’s, it wasn’t just any modern house, but an interesting, even quirky one, probably designed by some well-known architect. There were six of them, all slightly different. In the middle of the day, the only sign of life in the cul-desac was a woman sweeping up leaves in the garden next door. She’d lifted her head to glance at them as they arrived.

  Bryony let them in. He had picked her up on his way there. He had expected her to be young, maybe because of her name, but she was middle-aged, fifty at least. She was carefully made up, but that didn’t disguise the fact that she had been crying. Yes, this was exactly the kind of secretary Jennifer would have picked. He remembered her ability to surround herself with reliable people who would support her and pick up the slack. He had been one of them once.

  “The study’s over there,” Bryony said, gesturing to a room off the hall. “I came round and did some work here when she was on maternity leave.”

  They went in. Bryony made straight for a desk with papers stacked neatly on it.

  “Ah,” she said, picking something up.

  Daniel followed her eagerly. “Is that the lab book?”

  “Oh, sorry, no. It’s something else that I’ve been looking for.”

  Together they examined everything on the desk and searched the drawers. Daniel found some notes that related to the case, but no lab book.

  “It might be somewhere else in the house,” he said.

  It was one of those grey overcast November days. Bryony switched on the lights as they went into the kitchen.

  The place was heroically messy. Daniel glanced at Bryony and saw from her face that she was not surprised. Neither was he. Jennifer had had a gift for ignoring the chaos around her and focusing on one thing at a time. The sink was full of soaking dishes and scummy water. The kitchen table was covered in crumbs and the half-cleared evidence of lunch. There were several half-drunk cups of tea and coffee. A bag of flour had been left open with a spoon stuck upright in it. He thought of Rachel and her orderly, methodical ways. However had he managed to live with this? Anyone else might think that Jennifer had been interrupted or had made a hurried departure, but Daniel knew otherwise. It was just that there was no one to clean up after her at weekends now that Nick wasn’t there any more.

  “The lab book won’t be in here,” Bryony said.

  No, it wouldn’t be; Jennifer wouldn’t risk getting toast crumbs and tea stains on it. She shouldn’t really have brought it home at all, particularly as she didn’t seem to have left a copy in the office.

  It wasn’t in the living room either.

  They went upstairs. Through an open door Daniel glimpsed a mobile of paper elephants hanging from the ceiling and a duvet cover with a dinosaur pattern.

  They went into the next room: this was Jennifer’s. The bed hadn’t been made: the duvet was pushed back as if she had just climbed out, and the pillows were crooked. A familiar scent hung in the air and it was this that did for him. A picture flashed before his eyes. He saw Jennifer propped up with a duvet wrapped round her, shoulders bare. She never wore anything in bed. “Except Chanel No. 5, like Marilyn Monroe,” she liked to say. She was reading a patent application, annotating it with a pencil. He had found that incredibly sexy…

  The sense of her physical presence was so strong that for a moment it was as if she was standing beside him. He swayed and Bryony took his elbow.

  “Are you alright?”

  He nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

  By the window was a piece of furniture that he recognized: a desk that had belonged to Jennifer’s mother. A memory stirred, but he knew he didn’t want to go there. To give himself time to compose himself, he went over and looked at the framed photos that were arranged on the surface. They were all of the same little boy, sitting on a swing, or dressed as a shepherd for a nativity play with a toy lamb under his arm, or hunkered down on the beach, gesturing with a spade. There was something familiar about the child and he wondered if he had seen him before. Perhaps it was just that he resembled Jennifer. He searched for her features and found them in the quirk of an eyebrow, the shape of the chin.

  Bryony broke into his thoughts. “I’m really sorry, Mr Marchmont. It’s not here, is it?”

  “What?”

  “The lab book. We’ve looked everywhere now.”

  ***

  Daniel waited, shivering, on the garden path, while Bryony locked the door.

  There was the sound of a gate closing. They looked round. It was the woman who had been sweeping up leaves earlier. She had a little dog fussing at the end of a leash.

  “You’re Jennifer’s secretary, aren’t you? I’ve seen you here before.” She looked from Bryony to Daniel, obviously hoping for an introduction. When none was forthcoming, she said, “I was wondering if you knew what had happened to Harry.”

  “Harry’s with Mr Blunt,” Bryony said stiffly.

  “Poor little boy.”

  Daniel could tell from Bryony’s expression that she found the avid expression on the woman’s face repugnant. So did he, and yet…

  “Do you live next door?” he said.

  The woman snorted. “For my sins. What I used to overhear sometimes. I couldn’t help it.” The little dog was whining and pulling at his leash. “Stop it, Fred,” she said sharply. “At it like hammer and tongs,” she went on. “More than once I nearly called the police. Thought he might do her an injur
y. I was glad when he moved out, I can tell you.”

  “I need to get back to the office,” Bryony said to Daniel. She turned away.

  Daniel got out his car keys and bleeped the car open.

  Bryony went round to the passenger’s side and got in.

  The woman was clearly affronted. She shrugged and allowed the dog to pull her away.

  Daniel got into the car, started the engine and pulled away.

  “Jennifer would hate this,” Bryony said.

  Daniel glanced sideways. Her face was set. “You got on with her alright?” he asked.

  “She was good at her job, very good – and so am I. She respected that and we were a good team. So yes, I liked her and I liked working for her.”

  “How long had you been with her?”

  “Seven years.”

  Daniel was silent. So Bryony had come on the scene shortly after their break-up. She couldn’t help but know some of what had gone on.

  Neither of them spoke for the rest of the journey.

  Daniel pulled up outside Jennifer’s office. Their arrival obviously reminded Bryony of the errand they had undertaken together.

  “I really can’t understand that lab book going missing.” Her voice was troubled.

  “Neither can I.”

  “It’s not like her…”

  “Maybe if she was upset, distracted…”

  She shook her head. “No,” she said flatly.

  He saw from her face that she took this personally. Her boss didn’t make that kind of mistake and that was an end of it.

  “If her marriage was breaking up – ”

  “Even so.”

  Bryony had already turned to get out of the car when Daniel said, “Do you think it was permanent? The split, I mean.”