by Anita Waller
Helen took a sip of her drink, her hands shaking.
‘Mum,’ Michael said, placing an arm round her shoulder. ‘You don’t have to speak of this.’
‘Oh, but I do. I have to make sure that dreadful man isn’t fooling these two ladies. He was full of charm when I met him, but within a month he was showing his true colours. Did he marry?’
Mouse nodded. ‘He did. I believe his wife died five years ago.’
Doris didn’t speak. She couldn’t.
‘Then I hope they checked for foul play,’ Helen said. ‘The man is capable of anything. I was released from hospital and the police took me to my aunt’s place at Scarborough. They locked him up, but I was too scared to press charges. I thought he would come for me again once he was released, so I backed down. They had to release him but he bothered my friend continuously, trying to find out where I was. In the end we took a photo of her holding the baby, thinking he would stop bothering her if he saw a picture of him. I never heard from Ewan again but I knew one day he would want to meet Michael.’
‘And that’s why you kept under the radar? No social media, no pictures on your website…’ Mouse sounded thoughtful.
Doris finally spoke. ‘And that’s why he came to us. He didn’t know where to start, but he knew of our reputation. He knew we’d find you.’
27
Marnie stared at her husband. ‘I can’t stop thinking about it. I don’t think we’re going to be able to recover from this. I trusted you with the rest of my life, my daughter, my everything, and you had sex with her.’
‘And I’ve explained it all – how it came about, that it was only the once…’
‘But what I don’t understand is how she could have sex with you in here,’ Marnie swept her arm round in contempt, ‘then never refer to it again, and carry on as she always had done with you. That’s the hardest part, Andy. It seems like I never knew you, and I never knew her.’
He tried to take her into his arms, to offer some comfort, but she pulled away. ‘Sorry, Andy, I don’t need you near me.’
‘Do you want me to move out?’
‘Of course not. I don’t want the whole village discussing us, and that’s what would happen if you moved out. And we’ll have a funeral to arrange before much longer, so I’ll need you here then.’
‘And after that?’
She sighed. ‘I don’t know. Maybe if we had counselling…’
‘So you’re quite happy to talk to someone else, but not me? Have I got that bit right?’
The tears that seemed to be a permanent part of her life these days suddenly appeared once more. ‘I don’t know,’ she sobbed. ‘I don’t know anything. Not anymore.’
‘Who do you think killed her?’ Ruby’s eyes lifted towards her husband’s face, and she saw him frown.
‘I’ve no idea, Ruby, but it wasn’t me.’
‘I’m aware of that.’ Despite her pain her voice was clear, and cutting. ‘I imagine yours was the best alibi of them all. I can’t help but feel sorry for her, to lose her life so young. And I also can’t help but feel there’s a connection between you having sex with her and her death. Maybe an indirect connection, but it’s there somewhere.’
Finally he looked at her. ‘And what on earth could that connection possibly be?’
‘I don’t know yet, but if there comes a day when I do find out there is one, it will be our last day together. It’s hard enough for me to know you slept with her, although I half understand that as I’m not much good to you, but if there’s anything at all linking you anywhere near the reason why she died, I won’t be able to forgive you.’
Steve stood. ‘I love you, Ruby. If I could take everything back a couple of months I would do it in a heartbeat, but I can’t. It would break me if I lost you. It hasn’t broken me losing Orla. Maybe that’s something for you to think about.’
Ruby watched him walk out of the room and held up one finger towards his retreating back. She couldn’t resist the small smile that said was it right that a vicar’s wife should be making that gesture towards her husband, and she decided it wasn’t only right, it was spot on.
Helen Fairfax turned to face Doris. ‘And now that you have found us, what will you do? Have you met Ewan? I bet he was so charming. I remember my first sight of him. It was both our eighteenth birthdays, and we’d chosen to spend the evening in the same pub. We didn’t know each other, it was pure coincidence. In those days the eighteenth birthday wasn’t the important one, as it is today; no, the biggy was the twenty-first. The eighteenth was really only about being able to get a drink legally. We were kind of pushed together once both sets of friends found out it was a joint birthday, and he walked me home. He was absolutely charming. By the end of the first month of seeing him I was head over heels in love. By the end of the third month I was pregnant and he had turned into a monster. The first time he hit me was because I was sick. I didn’t know I was pregnant but I did know I felt sick. He took me for a coffee and the smell of the coffee wiped me out. I grabbed as many napkins as I could and vomited until there was nothing left in me. He took me home, very considerate on the bus, helped me into Mum’s house, then knocked me to the floor. I had bruises all over, but he was so lovely when he was apologising, promising he would never do it again, it was only because I had shown him up in the café, that sort of thing.
‘I put up with a lot. I stopped going out anywhere other than work, stopped talking to any of my male colleagues in case Ewan popped in, and I was within a couple of days of leaving to have my baby, when the final attack came. That bus conductor had no idea what he did when he put an arm out to steady me. When I came to in hospital, the man sitting at my bedside was a policeman, a lovely man who told me to make a statement, then find somewhere to stay out of Sheffield for a while. And so I came to Scarborough. I’ve been here ever since, still scared to death he’ll find me and knowing he could do it through Michael. It’s blighted our lives, mine, Michael’s and Patrice’s. I made them aware from a young age that I had a problem, and they knew never to talk to strangers, particularly men with light hair.’
‘And that,’ Michael interrupted, ‘is why we tried to fool you on Monday. Patrice and I have always protected Mum, and that’s what it was about. We figured you would back off when you realised Michael Fairfax couldn’t be Barker’s son, but we didn’t know about the photo you’ve shown me.’
‘Photo?’ Helen queried.
Mouse pulled up the picture on her phone and handed it to Helen.
Helen smiled, and touched the screen. ‘Carla. This is the photo I mentioned. We went to Chesterfield to take it, got the Crooked Spire in the background, thinking he might decide I was living there. I never saw him again, but he’s never been more than a few steps behind me all my life.’
Doris touched Helen’s hand. ‘I’m so sorry. It must have been such a nightmare. We won’t be passing your details on to him, not in any way. However, he has hired us to find Michael, and to negotiate a meeting with him if we do find him.’
‘Michael?’ Mouse said, and he smiled.
‘I want nothing to do with the man. Anyone who can still have this effect on my mother after fifty years is never going to be part of my life. You will convey that to him?’
‘I will. Thank you for your time. I’d like to leave my card with you if that’s okay. You can contact me at any time if you have any questions. I’ll notify Mr Barker of your decision tomorrow morning. We will tell him nothing beyond that.’
‘And if he goes to some other agency for help in finding me? You two have been very understanding, and have taken what I have said as what I want to happen, but that won’t necessarily be the case with some other business.’
‘You should see your solicitor if that happens. You can always take out an injunction to stop him approaching you. I will be writing to you so that you have our contact details, in case you need us for anything, but we won’t be troubling you again beyond sending that letter.’
All four stoo
d and headed for the front door. Helen hugged both women; her fragility was evident. Michael shook hands with Mouse and Doris, and they waved as they drove away.
Mouse chose to drive the return journey, and it was almost fifteen minutes before she spoke. ‘You have to get rid of him, Nan.’
‘He’s history,’ Doris said. ‘I don’t want to talk about it, but after we meet with him tomorrow morning, I need you to leave me in the reception area with him. I’ll tell him then.’
‘We’ll be listening from Kat’s office with a glass to the wall. Well, maybe not quite that but the CCTV will be on and trained on you.’
‘Don’t doubt it,’ Doris said. ‘But don’t interrupt us. I can handle him. I seem to remember blowing Leon’s hand off, so men don’t exactly scare me. And neither will Ewan Barker. So you can stop worrying. Whatever feelings may have been growing for him are wiped out, I promise you. Men who hit women are the lowest, and I might mention that to him.’
‘Is that before or after you kick him in the balls?’
Doris thought for a moment. ‘After.’
As darkness fell, Jeremy Peterson headed out of his home and down to the parked car. He laid the spray of flowers on the back seat, checked his torch was fully working, and drove away.
He’d had a good day; one of the major players at Manchester United had been in to speak with Mr Kenwright, looking to buy a bigger house. Jeremy had hung around as close to Kenwright’s office door as he could get, trying to hear details of areas where they would be showing him available properties.
There had been much laughter; Kenwright was in his element when the celebrities came to call. Jeremy hoped to climb the ladder and be a celebrity estate agent one day, soon.
He had to move quickly when the footballer and his wife left the office, and he felt envious, almost overwhelming, as Leo Kenwright escorted the pair out to their Audi. One day, Jeremy thought, one day.
In the meantime he would nurture the smaller celebrities he encountered along the way, people like Alyson Read and Ed Danvers. Four million, three hundred and eighty-two thousand and sixty-three pounds. He couldn’t remember if there were any pennies involved.
He drove through the Derbyshire countryside keeping an eye out for stray sheep that hadn’t realised it was bedtime, and who were prone to standing in the middle of the road, waiting to stop as many cars as they could. The moon was a help; it wasn’t so ominously dark.
Peterson reached Ashford in the Water and pulled up by the river. In his glovebox he kept a supply of cable ties, and he took three out, ready for tying the flowers to the wrought iron entrance gates. He’d already written a little card to go with the flowers, simply saying with best wishes, JP. He thought they would remember who he was.
He meant them no harm, but he hoped they would forget that he had told them about the fictitious relative. That was a spur of the moment idea that hadn’t been right. This one, much more subtle, sending little gifts, would be more appropriate.
Maybe they would even share a coffee, or a pint, one day. He would like that. He climbed out of the car, walked around the corner to the large detached house, and headed for the gates.
It was a bit of a struggle fastening the first tie, because he had to balance the flowers with one hand while wrapping the tie around them with the other, but once that first one was attached, the other two were much easier. He had to stuff the card down inside the flowers; he hadn’t thought about stapling it to the paper holding them secure when he was at home.
Finally he stepped back and admired his offering. Red roses. He hoped they would appreciate he hadn’t gone for cheap flowers. He wandered back to his car, stood for a moment watching the river flowing to wherever it flowed to, then took his place behind the steering wheel.
An excellent job, he was pleased it had gone so well. He wriggled around until he was comfortable and then turned the ignition key. At first the car wouldn’t start, but after some gentle persuasion it fired and he set off for home. The moon had all but disappeared behind clouds, and before he arrived home, the rain had started to fall. By midnight his roses were a sodden mess, water pooling in the bottom of the paper wrapper holding them securely. The writing on the gift card, however, was protected by the Sellotape covering he had placed over it.
The next morning, Ed and Alyson handed it over to Carl Heaton.
28
Carl was their first visitor of the morning. He joined his fiancée and her two colleagues in Kat’s office and laid the sodden bunch of flowers on a towel Kat had hurriedly placed on the desk.
‘And which garage did he buy these from?’ she mused. ‘They certainly look worse for wear.’
‘Heavy rain can do that to flowers,’ Carl said with a smile, ‘but he’s rattled our lottery winners, I can tell you. I’ve told them it will be sorted by the end of the day, but as it’s your case and strictly speaking nothing to do with me, I thought I’d bring the evidence here first. My proposal is that I take these flowers and the card to his employers, along with the letter Alyson Read brought in to you. I suspect they’ll be horrified he’s stalking their clients, but I also suspect Alyson and Ed aren’t the first ones he’s bothered. I’ll then have a word with him, hopefully while I’m still in their offices, and spell it out in words of one syllable that one more action of this kind will result in him being arrested. How does that sound? Or do you want to tackle it on your own?’
‘Ordinarily I’d say we’ll see to it, but I think it will scare him more if a DI Carl Heaton turns up to talk to him.’ Doris and Mouse nodded at Kat’s words.
‘Okay, I’ll head over to see him, and I’ll let you know the outcome. I can’t see it being a good one for our Jeremy. And can I borrow that towel, please? These flowers are very wet.’
‘Help yourself,’ Doris said. She sounded weary. She was weary.
A sleepless night hadn’t helped at all, and she felt sick at the thought of seeing Ewan Barker again. How could she have been so wrong about him? His charm had fooled her completely, as it had Helen Fairfax all those years earlier. Helen had spent her entire adult life feeling afraid because of him.
Doris recognised she didn’t feel afraid of him, but brutally attacking women caused such immense feelings of anger. Seeing Kat lying on the floor with blood pouring from a head wound after her husband had hit her had brought similar feelings to the surface. It had cost Leon his left hand, and at the very least Doris knew it would cost Ewan his dignity. Her words were as lethal as her gun-toting skills.
She watched as Carl rolled up the flowers inside the towel, and gave him a brief smile as he left the office.
Ewan arrived at ten, not in any way disconcerted by the request for a meeting. His assumption that they would have some sort of news for him was written all over his face as Doris showed him into Kat’s office.
He looked surprised at Doris not staying, but he sat down and waited for Mouse and Kat to organise some paperwork, and for Kat to take out the recorder from her drawer. She pointed to it.
‘Yes of course, I know it helps if you record meetings.’
‘Thank you,’ Kat said, and switched it on.
‘Ewan,’ Mouse said. ‘We met your son yesterday. You were right about the man we were introduced to as Michael Fairfax couldn’t be the child Helen gave birth to all those years ago, he was in fact his half-brother. We spoke at length with Michael, and as a result we have prepared our final statement along with a cheque for the balance of the money left from your deposit.’
Ewan’s face was stony. ‘He doesn’t want to see me?’
‘No. We left our card with him in case he changes his mind, but I’ll be honest, Ewan, I don’t think there’s any chance of that,’ Mouse confirmed.
‘Why?’
Mouse hesitated. ‘We also met Helen.’
‘And?’ There was anger creeping into his voice, and Kat glanced at Mouse.
‘And Michael has known for many years about the way you treated Helen, almost causing her to lose the baby
you now want to claim as your son. So has his half-brother. She has never hidden it, and I consider you were lucky to escape a prosecution for what you did to her.’
‘You do, do you?’
‘Yes I do. She spent a week in hospital after that final beating you gave her, and the police took her to a safe place to make sure you couldn’t find her. She was too afraid of you to let them charge you.’
Ewan’s cheeks grew redder as his anger increased. ‘So he’s turning down the chance of inheriting my money?’
Mouse thought of the handbag she had stopped bidding on when it reached four hundred pounds. ‘He really doesn’t need your money, Ewan. He was quite certain that he wouldn’t meet with you, so the only thing we could do was leave the door open for the future. We will be writing to him to confirm this, but he was also quite adamant that he would take out an injunction if you seek help from anyone else in finding him. I think you have to accept that you’re not going to meet him and make other arrangements for your assets when you die.’
Ewan stood. He snatched up the envelope containing the report and his cheque, and turned to leave the room.
‘Thanks for nothing,’ he snarled.
Kat quickly switched her screen to the reception area. Doris had given them specific instructions not to interrupt while she was getting him out of her life, but they could monitor the situation in the front office.
They watched as he walked towards where Doris was sitting at her desk.