‘He can help Beth - you must give him a call; he still lives in Evesly.’
‘Yes, okay, I'll call him, now I must go, I have to let Jamie's school know what’s happened.’
Schools hate parents taking kids out during term time, in fact the government passed a law in the UK banning it, but this is different, he's not going on holiday to have fun.
‘Okay, let me know when his flight is and tell him not to worry.’
After saying goodbye to Mum, I key in the number of the school. I’m put through to the head-teacher and I was right, she isn't pleased.
‘But he's only been here two days!’
‘Yes, I know, but this is an emergency, you can check with the police.’
I feel terrible doing this, we were lucky to get him in at the last minute. She's not happy but finally agrees.
‘Alright, but don't make it too long, keep me up to date with what's happening.’
‘Yes, of course, as soon as I know anything, I'll call you.’
I check on-line for flights then realize I must check about children flying alone. Iberia the Spanish airline, say the child must be twelve years old to fly alone. He’ll be twelve this month, but at the moment he’s still eleven.
I do a search on Google, it says an escort service can be requested for minors at the same time as the booking, I have twenty four hours to do this. Then there’s a list of things I must do. I quickly read through them, then check for flights.
There’s a flight leaving tomorrow at 11.45 – I’ve just enough time.
A few minutes later Jamie’s flight is booked, and I’ve completed the form. Now to tell Jamie.
‘I heard you talking in the garden,’ he growls, peering at me over the top of his duvet.
His bedroom window is slightly ajar, I always check the windows, I'm sure it was closed when we went to bed. I go over to the bed, puff up his duvet and casually ask. ‘Did you open the window last night?’
‘No, I don't think so, I don't remember, maybe I did, it was hot last night.’
I can see him watching me. He has that worried look on his face. I sit down on the bed next to him and ruffle his hair. ‘Cheer up! I just spoke to your head teacher, she said it's alright for you to have a few days off - you're going to stay with Nan in Spain, she said its lovely, you can...’
‘But I want you to come with me. You can't stay here on your own.’
I hug him tight. ‘I want to come, but I can't, I have to stay here and sort things out.’
He snorts and buries his head in the duvet.
I draw in a deep breath. ‘The flight crew will look after you, so there’s no need to worry, I’ve sorted it all out.’
I don’t want him to go alone, but what can I do?
He covers himself with the duvet. ‘If I have to go anywhere, I'd rather go to Athens.’
‘Look, I know it's difficult, you miss your friends, but Nan will take you to the beach every day, you can go swimming, play football.’
He sits up in bed, props his face in his hands and looks at me. ‘Okay, but I'm not going back to that school.’
‘We'll talk about that later. Now have a quick shower and I'll make breakfast.’
When he's safely in the shower, I run downstairs to call Helen. No reply.
A few minutes later Jamie slides down the stairs wearing his new jeans.
‘What shall we do after breakfast,’ I ask, pouring him a juice.
He sits thinking for a minute, then his eyes light up. ‘What about a Harry Potter tour? We can see Hogwarts. Let's go there?’
‘Okay, let’s have breakfast first, then we'll go.’
‘Yay, cool! What's for breakfast?’
I sigh with relief. We'll have a good time today, tomorrow he'll go to Spain, then I’ll contact the police.
6
JAMIE GOES TO SPAIN
The drive to the airport is usually a happy event but today we're both quiet. I'm worried, it's his first time flying alone, he says he's looking forward to it, but I'm not so sure. I peek at him from the corner of my eye.
He catches me looking and grins. ‘Don't worry Mum, I'll be okay.’
I smile weakly, turn the radio on and focus on the road ahead. Fortunately, there’s not too much traffic and we’re soon at the airport.
After completing all the necessary documentation, Jamie’s taken through the security gate, he doesn’t seem at all bothered, in fact I think he’s enjoying it. Tears fill my eyes - he looks so small – I give him a wave and he’s gone.
Twenty minutes later the plane takes off. I leave the airport, locate my car and drive home.
On the way back my phone rings, I ignore it, I’m driving, they can leave a message. As I drive home all I can see is Jamie sitting on that plane. He didn't seem bothered about going by himself, I just want him to be safe. I eventually convince myself he's okay, he has his phone; he can always call me when he lands.
When I arrive back at the house it seems empty. There’s a PC in the front garden as usual, and the other one's around the back. I’ll give Mum a call to make sure she’ll be at the airport early.
She says not to worry, stop thinking about him sitting on the plane all by himself, the flight doesn’t take that long, by the time he’s had something to eat it’ll be time to land.
Then I remember, someone called, I look at my phone, there’s a message from Nick, he wants me to call him.
‘Sorry, Mum, I have to go, talk to you later.’
‘Okay, please take care of yourself.’
‘I will Mum, you too.’
How on earth did Nick get my number? I listen to the message, his voice sounds deeper than I remember, stronger, more confident. Well, of course it would, the last time I saw him he was only seventeen.
Tossing my phone onto the small garden table, I sit on one of the old benches contemplating my plan of action. I’ll contact the police first, find out if they’ve caught whoever did this, and then I’ll…
My phone rings, it's Nick.
‘Beth, how are you?’
‘Nick, what a surprise, how are you?’
‘I'm okay, but more to the point, how are you?’
Of course, he knows all about it, either Mum told him or he heard about it through the grapevine, news travels fast in Evesly.
‘Nick, it's very nice of you to call, but you really don't have to worry, there are two police officers guarding the house.’
‘Okay, but I still want to see you, we've got a lot of catching up to do.’
Seeing Nick is the last thing I need right now. ‘I'm sorry Nick but it’s not a good time - I'll give you a call.’
‘Beth, I know all about it, your mother told me, I know you were attacked; I want to help. Can I come over tonight, after work?’
I had a feeling he might know about the fire, but how does he know I was attacked? Only Helen knows and she wouldn't go blabbing her mouth off to Mum.
‘Sorry Nick, I must go - I'll call you later.’
My mind's racing, how did Mum find out, only the police know and the station manager - then I have a thought. Oh no!
Grabbing my purse, I run the few yards to the local shop.
Nothing much has changed, the old black cat's still fast asleep under the newspaper stand, and inside, next to the till are the free local newspapers.
As I take one from the top of the pile, the guy behind the counter gives me a strange look. Is there something inside about me? Am I being paranoid?
He goes back to serving the kids sweets, I go outside.
A small heading on the second page catches my eye.
WOMAN ATTACKED IN EVESLY
I quickly scan through it then stop - they've printed my name, now everyone knows. One of Mum’s mates must have seen this and called her, now she's wondering why I didn't tell her.
Back at home I sit re-reading the article, then my phone rings - it's the police. Shit, I forgot I was supposed to see them today. I tell them I'll come tomorrow - they say o
kay.
There's a tap at the door, then another. I sit with my arms on the table hoping they'll go away, but they don’t. There's another tap, this time much louder.
I trip over one of Jamie's shoes as I go to answer it.
‘Yes?’ I growl, flinging the door open.
‘Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt - but as I was in the area…’
He must be selling something. He's quite tall, dark hair, tanned, very well built. I shake my head and mumble something about being busy and start closing the door.
‘Beth. It’s me, don’t you recognize me?’
Then I know who it is, but he's changed, really changed. ‘Nick, I didn't recognize you – what have you done to yourself?’
He laughs and stands looking at me. ‘You haven't changed much, your hair is longer, but it suits you.’
We stand staring at each other for a minute then I laugh. ‘It's so lovely to see you, do you want to come in?’
He nods. ‘Yes, I'd love too.’
As we pass the blackened living room door he pauses slightly. I ignore it and walk into the kitchen. ‘It's such a lovely day, let's sit outside in the garden.’
The police officer at the end of the garden sees us coming and quickly stubs out his cigarette. I point to one of the benches next to the table, Nick sits down.
‘I was just going to cook a pizza, are you hungry?’
He nods. ‘Sounds great, can I help?’
‘No, it won’t take long.’
I shove the pizza in the microwave, then realize I didn't ask him what he'd like to drink.
I open the window. ‘Nick, what would you like to drink, beer or coke?’
He looks up from his phone. ‘Beer would be great, are you sure I can't help?’
I smile and shake my head. ‘No, stay there, enjoy the garden.’
I start rummaging around in the fridge but there’s no beer. Maybe he’d like some wine? Then I spy a bottle of San Miguel in with the salad stuff. I pop it open and take it outside.
As soon as he sees me, he stops chatting to the police officer, walks over and takes the beer.
‘Thanks, Beth.’
I give him a smile then go back inside and watch him from the window. I still can't get over the change in him. For some reason I feel a bit awkward, I haven’t seen him for years. This isn’t the Nick I remember, the shy skinny boy with the doleful brown eyes.
The microwave tings. I swing round.
Pizza's ready. Here goes.
‘I hope you like mozzarella and pesto,’ I say, placing it on the table and slicing it with the cutter.
There's a slight smile on his face. ‘It's one of my favourites.’
I’m not really hungry but I take a slice and bite into it.
Suddenly he reaches over and puts his hand over mine.
‘Beth, I want to help. If you remember anything about the guy who attacked you, please tell me.’
I nearly choke on my pizza; he hands me his beer. What did Mum say he does for a living? I'm sure he studied law but that was a long time ago.
‘I'm a DI a detective inspector,’ he says, as if reading my mind. ‘Didn't your mother tell you?’
Now this has shocked me, and he knows it.
He laughs and carries on talking. ‘I work for the police. I studied law, don't you remember? I always found criminal law interesting and with my new job...’ He stops to light a cigarette, inhales deeply and carries on. ‘I get to see things first-hand, if you know what I mean.’
I nod. ‘Yes, but I never thought you'd end up working for the police.’
He takes out his cigarettes. ‘Sorry, I forgot to offer you one, do you smoke?’
I shake my head. ‘No thanks.’
My mind's racing, he's a detective, it would be easy for him to find out about my case - the attack, the fire. Maybe he already knows?
‘Nick, let's go inside, I'll make some coffee.’
‘Sure.’ He stubs out his cigarette and follows me into the kitchen.
While I'm filling up the kettle, he picks up a framed photo of Mum, me and Jamie.
‘So, when did you get divorced?’ he asks, looking closely at the photo.
Mum really has been busy - I wonder how much she told him. ‘It's just going through. It will probably take a couple more weeks.’
Placing the photo carefully back on the sideboard, he suddenly smiles. ‘Then you'll be a free woman.’
‘Yes, I suppose so, I haven't really thought about it - it happened so quickly.’ Why am I telling him this, I haven't seen him for years, he's looking at me so strangely.
‘Don't worry, Beth, I'm sure you'll be alright, I was married for a couple of years, but it didn't work out either, not as long as you of course.’ He glances back at the photo. ‘Your son has green eyes just like yours, how old is he?’
‘He's nearly twelve.’
He stands watching me, he looks older, more confident, but there's something else.
‘You know the last thing I heard about you was that you'd married a Greek, you were having a ball in Athens.’ He stops and frowns. ’Sorry, I shouldn't have said that, I didn't think, how stupid of me.’
‘Don't worry, you haven't upset me, I may not look it, but I've toughened up over the years.’
He raises an eyebrow and laughs. ‘I don't think so, you still look the same as you did when you were seventeen, or was it eighteen when you went back to Greece?’
‘You'd be surprised Nick, appearances can be deceptive.’ If only he knew - he'd probably run a mile, I've changed so much, even I don't recognize myself sometimes. Then I think of my Glock 17 stored away with most of my things in a locked room in our apartment in Athens. I thought I'd be safe here, but now I'm not so sure.
‘Milk and sugar, Nick?’
‘Black, no sugar, thanks.’
He sits down at the table, I bring over the coffee.
‘Nick, about my case, do you think these incidents are connected?’
He's just about to say something, when his phone rings.
‘Sorry, I'll take it outside.’
He gets up and walks out of the kitchen into the garden, I sit drinking my coffee thinking about Nick.
A few minutes later he's back.
‘Beth, I have to go, it's something urgent, can I call you tomorrow?’
‘Yes, of course.’
I stand watching him drive away in his shiny black VW Golf. Well what a surprise that was.
My phone rings - it's Mum.
‘Hi Mum, how are you? How's Jamie?’
‘I'm fine, and so is Jamie. He can't wait to tell you about his flight, I just wish you were here, he really misses you. Have you heard from the police?’
‘No, but I have heard from Nick, he just came to see me, you didn't tell me he works for the police.’
She grunts. ‘Good, let's hope he can help, now talk to Jamie.’
I can hear her talking to him, then he's on the phone. ‘Mum, it's great here, when are you coming?’
I laugh. It's good to hear his little voice. ‘Jamie, I told you, I'll be there in a couple of days, now tell me about your flight.’
When we’ve finished, I sit looking at my phone, I know Mum will look after him, but I'm worried, what happens when they come back? What if the police haven't found out who did this?
We're running low on wine, so I decide to take a walk to the supermarket, it'll clear my head and help me think.
7
BETH & NICK
Oxford
As I near the shops my phone rings, it’s Nick.
‘Beth, I really don't think you should be walking around Oxford by yourself.’
I stop dead in my tracks. Did that young police officer call him, I saw him watching me when I left the house.
‘How do you know where I am and where are you?’
He totally ignores me and starts prattling on about a pub in the high street.
‘Listen, there's a small pub, three doors along from Tesco, I'll
be there in ten minutes.’
I'm nearly at Tesco’s when I see the pub he's talking about. It's a typical old-style English pub - low beams, smells of beer, very quaint. I remember going in here many times when I was younger.
As soon as I enter, the barman calls out. ‘Yes, m'dear, can I help you?’
I smile to myself. I'd forgotten how friendly old English pubs are. I walk over to the bar and place a ten-pound note on it.
‘Two halves of lager, please.’
The barman nods, I look around for somewhere to sit.
‘There’s a seat over there,’ he says, pointing to a table by the window. ‘I'll bring them over if you like.’
‘Thanks.’
It's a small table for two, with wood carved chairs next to a window looking out onto the high street. The chair is surprisingly sturdy and very comfortable. The windows are tiny, they look Elizabethan. I peer through one of them and see Nick, he's on his phone, hurrying towards the pub.
The barman brings over the beers, gives me my change, then ambles back to the bar.
Nick is quite tall, so to avoid hitting his head on the beams he has to duck when he comes inside the pub.
‘It’s a lovely old pub, do you come here often?’ I ask, moving my chair to give him some room.
He laughs. ‘I often pop in for a quick drink, it's very handy and the beer's good.’ Then his voice changes, he looks worried. ‘You shouldn't be out alone, Beth, after what happened.’
I can't believe he just said that, I know I must be vigilant but for him to say I shouldn't go out is ridiculous.
‘I'm not staying at home just because some nutter firebombed our house, what planet do you live on Nick?’
A muscle twitches in his cheek, he says nothing, but I can see I've hit a nerve.
‘Nick, you said you want to help, and I really need your help. Has this sort of thing happened before? Are there many cases like this?’
He doesn’t reply, just leans back in his chair, stretches his legs out under the table and sips his beer.
‘Nick,’ I almost shout then lower my voice. ‘I can't put my life on hold, I have a son to look after, he could have been killed. I don't know who did this, but they need to be found.’
The Beth Papadakis Thriller Box Set Page 3