The Wrong Kind of Clouds

by Amanda Fleet

  Paul shuffled in his seat. ‘Kate, I don’t know if you can hear me… maybe you can… anyway…’ He trailed off and sighed. ‘It’ll be alright. Patrick was still alive. They found him. Brought him here.’

  Her eyes flew open.

  ‘Alright? How the hell does Patrick being alive make this alright? What have you done?’

  Paul’s face hardened. ‘What have I done? You stupid bitch. How the hell could killing Patrick have made this better? I never wanted him dead. I was just trying to save you. Keep him out of the way until after the election.’

  ‘What, so he could just pop back up afterwards and keep his mouth shut? How was that ever going to work? All I wanted was for you to stick by me. And then you go and do that. What the fuck were you thinking?’ Her head pounded, her thoughts spiralling. If Patrick was alive she’d lost control of the whole situation.

  ‘What was I thinking? Jesus, Kate. We’d have worked it out. We could have paid him off, done something… But what you told Bruce to do… How could you?’

  ‘What choice did I have? You never see further than what’s right in front of you. You fucking idiot!’ she muttered. ‘You stupid, weak, incompetent, fucking idiot.’

  ‘I was trying to protect you!’ he hissed.

  She opened her mouth to launch another tirade, but the door opened. DI Watson stood at the foot of her bed, sneering at her, flanked by two coppers. Two more officers stood guard outside the door.

  ‘Paul Hampton, I am arresting you for the abduction and attempted murder of Patrick Forrester. You are not obliged to say anything, but anything you do say will be noted and may be used in evidence. Do you understand?’

  ‘You’re not arresting her?’ Paul spat.

  ‘Not yet. Do you understand?’

  Paul ran a hand through his hair, looking daggers at Kate. ‘Yes. Yes, I understand.’

  Kate swallowed, her mouth desiccating.

  The coppers clicked cuffs on Paul and shoved him roughly towards the door. DI Watson turned back to her, lip curling.

  ‘Don’t get comfy.’

  Kate sank back on her pillow, her heart racing.

  ‘Fuck!’

  ***

  ‘Well. Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes, wrapped up so sexily in that?’

  LB’s eyes fluttered open and he took a moment to register where he was. As his eyes met Summer’s she nodded at his hospital gown, tucked a sweet wrapper into her paperback to mark her page and laid the book on his bed. His eyes rested muzzily on her.

  ‘Hey. I do my best.’

  He struggled painfully to sit up, still groggy from the anaesthetic.

  ‘Where the hell did you get that?’ He indicated her book. ‘Do you just sprout them?’

  She laughed. ‘It was in the waiting room.’ Her brow furrowed and she flicked to the inside cover. ‘“Placed here by the Rotary Club of Southampton East”. Well, presumably not here, but somewhere nearer there… “To promote literacy in the community. Please take this book and when you have finished reading it, leave it in a public place such as a bus station or waiting room, so that someone else may enjoy it.”’

  She closed the cover and arched her brows at LB over the top of the book. ‘You look lovely.’ She smiled sarcastically.

  ‘You can take your coat off if you’re staying.’

  ‘Not really. I used my shirt to staunch your blood.’

  ‘I know.’

  He smiled mischievously and she thumped his leg. He yawned. ‘Sorry. I’m exhausted. What time is it?’

  ‘Half eight in the evening. It’s still Saturday. They might kick me out soon.’

  ‘Have you got anywhere to go?’

  ‘I could go home. Or maybe I’ll just crash in the chapel here.’

  ‘I would never have pegged you as religious.’

  ‘Oh, I’m not. But they won’t kick me out from there. And I might offer up some thanks while I’m in there. Just in case. I wouldn’t want to seem ungrateful.’

  He smiled, his fingers seeking hers on the bedcover. ‘You rub me up the wrong way and drive me completely mad,’ he murmured. ‘But dear God, I am pleased to see you.’ He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her fingertips.

  She laughed. ‘Ditto.’ She stood and leaned over to kiss him on the mouth, lingering there. ‘But you’re a bloody idiot, colliding with a knife like that!’

  He squeezed her hands. ‘Easy target. I’m six foot three. You can’t bloody miss me.’

  She smiled.

  ‘So, tell me what’s happened? I remember going into surgery but I’ve skipped a few hours since then.’

  ‘Patrick’s been taken into intensive care. He’s got septicaemia and multiple fractures, including some skull fractures, according to the nurses I spoke to. He’s not supposed to have any visitors but they let me see him, briefly. They say he’s critical. Apparently, you can look like you’re getting better, but then take a turn for the worse a few days later so they’re keeping a close eye on him.’

  LB nodded. He’d seen the rash that covered Patrick and hoped they’d reached him in time.

  ‘Do you know how he got septicaemia?’ he asked, though he assumed that any one of the myriad contusions could have been the cause.

  ‘His ankles. There are deep cuts around them. Where he’d been tied.’

  Her voice wavered and LB hurried to move her on to a new topic. ‘And Bruce Macdonald?’

  ‘Arrested. Spilling the beans, apparently. They wouldn’t really tell me many details but they looked smug.’ Summer fell silent, fiddling with his fingers. ‘Oh. Kate Hampton’s out of intensive care. It was on the news earlier. She’s still in hospital, but out of any danger. There’s a police guard on her door, though. Paul was by her side, but one of the coppers said he’d been arrested too. Apparently, Paul’s claiming it was Kate who wanted Patrick killed. I’m not sure he was meant to have told me. She’s saying the attempted suicide was a cry for help and their lawyer’s appealing for privacy for them.’

  ‘Fat chance.’ LB shook his head. ‘For a start, Edinburgh will need to talk to them about Bruce Macdonald retrieving those letters and trashing the place. And Tolland and Patrick. They’ll want to know who was giving the orders. That might take some sorting if Macdonald blames the Hamptons and they’re blaming each other and him.’

  Summer nodded. LB shifted in the bed and gazed at her. ‘And you? How about you?’

  ‘Me? I’m fine. No cuts, no bruises. I’m fine.’

  He waited for the truth.

  ‘Well, mostly fine. I’m a bit shaken up. I’ve never lamped anyone like that before!’

  He laughed. ‘I’m glad you did.’

  ‘Hmm. You told me to stay in the car or you’d knock me down yourself. Good job I don’t pay much attention to you.’

  ‘Mmm. Your inability to do as you’re told was most welcome today.’

  She scowled good-naturedly at him. ‘I gave the police my statement while you were being stitched back together.’

  ‘That probably took a while. Did it go okay?’

  ‘Why wouldn’t it?’

  ‘Because you’re prickly as a hedgehog?’

  She poked her tongue out at him. ‘It went fine. They said they’d talk to you and get your statement once you were fit enough to give it. Probably tomorrow morning.’

  He nodded. It should be pretty open and shut since they’d found Patrick with Tolland, and if Macdonald was talking it would be hopefully be a straightforward series of arrests and trials. It was also unlikely now that Summer having trampled all over the scene of the abduction would be a problem, something that had been troubling him for days and which he was eminently relieved about.

  ‘Have you had any more news about Moyenda?’

  ‘Yes! I spoke to him to ask how he was and to say that we’d found Patrick. He thinks there’s someone in Malawi who can help stop the children being sold. And Patrick said he was going to finish the article about the kids.’

  LB’s brow crinkled. ‘I’m g
lad Moyenda’s okay, but if Patrick does that, won’t it cause problems for the charity?’

  ‘Possibly. Patrick said he’d go out to Malawi as soon as he was well enough, to see if he could fix anything before he published. Oh. All that money he borrowed—’

  ‘Stole.’

  She shrugged. ‘It was for one of the kids. He needed an operation. I wish he’d bloody told me. I’d have given it to him!’

  His fingers drew patterns on her hand, hoping to distract her. ‘Summer, can I ask you something?’

  She looked up. ‘You sound nervous.’

  He smiled at her and shrugged, wincing as he did so. ‘I’ve got some sick leave to take and you and I have had a pretty shocking few days. Would you like to spend a few days with me? In the Highlands, maybe? You could take lots of pictures if you wanted,’ he added hurriedly, watching her face. ‘Make it a working holiday perhaps?’

  Summer studied him thoughtfully. ‘I don’t think so,’ she said after a moment.

  His heart sank but he managed to maintain a smudge of composure.

  ‘The clouds are all wrong,’ she added. ‘I’ll leave my camera behind and we can just have the holiday.’

  Acknowledgements

  I would like to thank my husband, Colin Nicol, for his undying support in my life. Without his encouragement and belief in me, I would never have got to this point. I also want to thank Gillian Holmes who did such a fantastic job of editing this and from whom I learned a lot. My thanks also to my beta readers, especially Gerard McCabe and Liz Surtees, who both gave incredibly useful feedback on early drafts, and to my writing buddy Stuart Lennon for all his support throughout. A big thank you to Macdonald Nkhutabasa, who kept me right with the Chichewa and who does such fantastic work with the children in Chimwemwe Children’s Centre in Malawi. My thanks also to PC Tulloch from Police Scotland who helped me with the wording of the arrest. A huge shout-out to all my writing friends for all the love, support and advice they have given me—you truly are an amazing bunch. And last, but not least, to all those friends and relatives who believed I could do this. Thank you all.

  By the same author

  Lies That Poison—a tense psychological thriller

  Whose side are you on? Alys’s or Hannah’s?

  When Tom Bowman moves to Yorkshire to start a new life, he meets two women who will change his life.

  Alys is a young woman with a troubled past. Her ‘rules’ have kept her safe for the last few years, but as a relationship develops between her and Tom, is she prepared to break them?

  Hannah is an elderly woman who is frequently confused, muddling the past and the present. She hates Alys and warns Tom that he’s in grave danger from the woman he’s falling in love with.

  Tom has to choose who’s lying to him.

  Believing the wrong person might make the difference between life and death.

  Praise for Lies That Poison:

  ***** “Wow, wow, wow loved this book! One of the best books I've read this year! Couldn't put it down. Had me guessing all the time - is Alys a liar and a poisoner or is the old lady senile? The book very cleverly takes you back and forth giving you little clues drip by drip. Is Tom in trouble or not? Who does he believe - the woman he loves or the old lady he is fond of?

  The storyline is thrilling and believable. The characters are well written and believable. A very enjoyable read.

  If you like a well written psychological thriller go for this- you won't be disappointed!”—Kindle Customer—Amazon

  ***** “A gripping tale which kept me engrossed from beginning to end. I couldn’t put the book down.”—Barb Dee—Amazon

  ***** “A brilliant story that I didn’t want to put down. I don’t give 5* very easily and this one deserves it in spades. Stunning.”—Misfits Farm—Amazon

  ***** “I fell in love with Tom straight away and wanted to protect Hannah. This is a great story that you must read. I couldn’t put it down.”—Shamiela Ahmed—Amazon

  Buy it now:

  UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B07XVPVNFZ

  US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07XVPVNFZ

  About the Author

  Amanda Fleet is a physiologist by training and a writer at heart. She spent 18 years teaching science and medicine undergraduates at St Andrews University, but now uses her knowledge to work out how to kill people (in her books). During her time at St Andrews, she was involved with two Scottish Government funded projects, working with the College of Medicine in Blantyre, Malawi. While in Malawi, she learned about the plight of the many street children there and helped to set up a Community Based Organisation that works with homeless Malawian children to support them through education and training—Chimwemwe Children’s Centre.

  Amanda lives in Scotland with her husband, where she can be found writing, walking and running.

  If you want to keep up to date with all of the latest news, go to

  www.amandafleet.co.uk

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