Hughes glanced at the crutches. ‘Would you like to go somewhere a bit more comfortable to talk?’
‘I’m fine, but if it suits you.’
After a quick look round to make sure everything was safe to leave, he secured the workshop and led the way across the yard. He felt under scrutiny as he unlocked the kitchen door, then waved a hand at a chair by the table.
‘It’s good to see you’re security conscious,’ the detective remarked as he sat down. ‘A lot of people who live in the country can be a bit careless.’
Bede shrugged. ‘Tell me about this fire at Bridge Farm.’
‘It was quite a blaze, around midnight.’ He looked at him intently. ‘You hadn’t heard?’
‘Haven’t been anywhere or seen anyone this morning. How bad is it? Is Marjorie OK? Marjorie Northcote?’
As he listened to the news that his old friend was in hospital, he stared at his feet, full of regret for the anger he’d been feeling. It wasn’t her fault that she’d kept Joe’s secrets for him.
‘Mr Sherwell?’
He looked up.
‘I asked where you were, what you were doing, last night.’
‘What? Me? I was here.’
‘At home? All evening?’
Bede sighed, ran a hand through his hair. ‘Yes. No. What can I say? I went for a walk. I like going for walks. Especially when I’m stressed. I haven’t been able to get out much recently. It did me good.’
He turned away, looked out of the window, watching the raindrops patterning a puddle on the yard.
‘Did you see anything?’
He shook his head.
‘Did anyone see you?’
‘Not that I know of.’
Bede sat forward as he realised where this was heading. Apart from the circumstantial evidence of his ongoing feud with Philip, culminating in his upset about the death of his dog, there was the question of Marjorie’s spare key and his knowledge of the ancient central heating boiler. Wet footsteps in the boiler room between the two houses had been interspersed with singular prints made by the rubber tips of a set of crutches; Inspector Hughes found that the boot prints matched an old pair here in the Alderleat utility room. Bede’s protests as he gestured towards the ones on his feet and insisted that he hadn’t been wearing them were less compelling than the bald fact that they were damp.
As was the smoke-smelling jacket. ‘I suppose you weren’t wearing this, either?’
He shook his head again in silence. Hughes indicated his mobile, lying in its usual place on the windowsill.
‘What’s your number?’
Mystified, Bede recited it. The detective consulted his notebook.
‘Can I have a look?’
‘Be my guest. I haven’t touched it for a couple of days, though.’
The detective pulled on a pair of latex gloves and unplugged it from the charger. After a few taps, he showed Bede a text, sent to Northcote P at 00:26 that morning.
Now you know what it feels like to have a place that matters to you destroyed.
A rising panic threatened to engulf him. ‘I don’t even know Northcote’s number! What’s it doing on my phone?’
There was a sense of inevitability, of events spiralling out of control, as he agreed – as if he had any choice – to go to the police station to give a statement. A statement he knew would not be believed.
The news from the hospital was better than Elin had feared. It seemed that Marjorie was stable, though the chances of her going home any time soon were slim. That would leave plenty of time to repair the house, Elin thought grimly. The detective would have spoken to Bede by now and she wanted to be with him. She went through to the shop and was about to ask Carole if she could spare her for a few minutes, when she heard Silvan’s voice. Her heart sank.
‘It seems we’re honoured to have the company of the hero of the hour,’ Carole announced.
‘Hardly,’ he protested. ‘I only did what anyone would’ve done.’
‘Which is?’ Elin said.
‘First things first,’ Carole said. ‘What did they tell you at the hospital?’
Elin gave them her news and asked his.
‘I fell asleep in front of the telly last night. I was on my way to bed when I looked out the window and noticed the fire. I called 999 then dashed out. So I rocked up and saw a blaze coming from the lobby between the two houses – you know, the old lady’s place, Mrs Northcote’s, and Philip’s. The smoke was choking me before I could get near to see more.’ He scratched his nose as if the acrid fumes were still irritating his nostrils. ‘I saw Philip’s car wasn’t there. I couldn’t have got closer if I’d wanted to but I assumed he was safe. Then, shit, I only saw smoke drifting out from Mrs Northcote’s kitchen, didn’t I? I was working my way round, trying to find a way in to see if she was OK, when the firemen arrived and broke the door down to rescue her.’ He glanced at Carole. ‘Hardly heroic but I tried. I don’t mind telling you I was terrified.’
Elin felt guilty that she’d not seen the blaze, but consoled herself that it would have been the fire engine or police that had woken her and so there was nothing useful she could have done.
‘So I haven’t slept a wink since. There’s nothing doing at the shoot today, of course, so I’m just on my way back to catch up on some kip. I’m only being nosy really, forgive me, but I thought I saw Bede just now, heading somewhere in the back of a car.’
‘What car?’ Elin said sharply.
‘Blue one. The driver might have been someone I recognised from last night. Couldn’t tell. It was all blurry with the rain.’
‘Inspector Hughes had a blue car,’ Carole said helpfully.
‘So what d’you think that’s about?’
Something inside Elin snapped. ‘I’ve been here all morning, Silvan. Bede’s been at Alderleat. So I really have no idea.’
I wasn’t there
The rainstorm made the day dull and lights were on, the house pulsing to the beat of loud rock music. Tamsin knocked and waited. No way Elin would hear it in her cocoon of sound. She stepped into the kitchen and called. The roar of a vacuum cleaner competed with the music. She went through to the living room and called again.
Elin jumped and turned as if vacuuming were a crime. Flashing Tamsin a strained smile, she hurried over to the old-fashioned music centre and killed the sound.
‘You’re back. Did you have a good time in Italy?’
‘Yeah, great, thanks. I’ve brought some pics on my phone to show you. But how are you? Shit, I can’t believe what’s been happening. I wanted to come round yesterday, but it was too late by the time we got back.’
‘I’d probably have been up.’ She laughed thinly. ‘What have you heard? Sorry, sit down. I can spare a few minutes, but I’ve got to tidy up.’
‘Sure. I’ll give you a hand.’
‘Thanks.’ Elin was gazing across the room. She hadn’t looked at Tamsin once since she arrived. It wasn’t like her. ‘Bede’s coming home soon.’
‘Coming home? He’s in the clear? I couldn’t believe it, honestly, Elin. I’m sick of Philip and his paranoia. I mean, I know his mum’s ill because of it, and I’m so sorry about that. But she’s your friend too, isn’t she? There’s no way Bede would do anything like that. That’s why I’m here – so you can tell me the real story. Have they let him off?’
‘No. Bail. With curfew conditions and one of those electronic tags.’
‘Wow. He’ll probably take it apart and start working out how to hack it.’
Elin’s expression made her wish she could take it back. ‘It’s serious, Tamsin.’
‘Yeah, sorry.’
Elin bent to unplug the vacuum cleaner. ‘All the evidence points to Bede and he…he hasn’t been himself.’ She flopped against the wall, looking desolate. ‘As you saw. Though I can’t believe he’d do a thing like that and he swears blind he had nothing to do with it. When he bothers speaking at all. I wish I could get through to him.’
‘I’m so s
orry. I’ve been awake all night thinking about it – about when we were working on the caravan together while you were up north. He was behaving weirdly. I should’ve noticed, done more.’
‘You?’ Elin laughed incredulously.
Tamsin felt wounded. ‘People say I’m a good listener, you know.’
‘I don’t mean that. Sorry. I’m sure you are. But you haven’t been married to him for the last fifteen years. I’m the one should have seen, should have done something. He gave me enough signs, for God’s sake. And I just took the huff and left.’
‘I’m sure it wasn’t like that.’
Elin busied herself winding away the vacuum cleaner cable. ‘I wasn’t there.’
Her tears spilled over. Tamsin touched her arm. Elin brushed her away and fetched a tissue from a box on the bookshelf across the room.
‘Could you put the hoover away for me, please? Under the stairs.’
As she returned to the kitchen, Tamsin heard a clatter and Elin cursing.
‘God knows what this is doing here. Could you put it in the stand by the front door, please?’
She handed her a walking stick.
‘That’s nice.’ Tamsin examined it; the smooth loop at the top fitted her hand perfectly, though it was made for someone taller.
‘Bede fell in love with it at Halbury show and I bought it for him.’ Elin’s face clouded. ‘I’m surprised it hasn’t gone on the fire like everything else.’
‘Too useful,’ Tamsin said, trying to defuse the atmosphere. ‘More his image than the crutches.’
‘He obviously thought the same. There’s mud on it, look. Idiot. If he damages his wrist or his ankle because he’s not following medical advice, we’ll just be back to square one.’ She shook her head. ‘No, we won’t. We’ll never be back to anything.’
This time she allowed Tamsin to hug her as a stray sob escaped her. It was scary to see cracks appearing in this woman who usually took everything in her stride. Elin’s world had become part of Tamsin’s and the cracks were beneath her feet, too.
When the time came for Elin to go and collect Bede, Tamsin got a lift to the village. As they crossed the bridge, she looked at the swollen river not far below and the submerged fields to either side. It had been dark when they crossed on their way home the night before, and Tamsin hadn’t noticed how high the water level had become.
‘It won’t be long now,’ Elin said. ‘We’re going to be flooded again. Not so long since last time.’
‘It might not happen.’
‘It will. Now it’s got this high, and rising. It’s still raining, probably more so up in the mountains.’ She sighed. ‘They’ll be busy moving stuff in the shop. I feel bad that I can’t help.’
She had to get Bede home. As Tamsin listened to her saying how the village would probably be off-limits to him but they were lucky he could come home at all, it became clear to her how bad things were. Arson, attempted manslaughter, attempted murder, even. She thought back about the warnings – her mother’s, which she’d brushed off, and Silvan’s, which she’d scoffed at as teasing – and the way she never quite knew how to take Bede. Yet she admired Elin’s loyalty.
‘Do you want me to go and ask if they want a hand at the shop?’ Tamsin said as she got out of the car.
Elin managed a smile. ‘Thanks. I’m sure they’d appreciate any offer of help.’
‘Shall I come and see you later? Moral support?’
‘If you don’t mind getting your head bitten off.’ Elin smiled wistfully, paused for a moment longer, then drove off.
Before she reached the Foxover Storehouse, Tamsin felt her phone buzz and stopped to read a text.
Can’t wait till tonight, bae. I can take a short break in about ½ hr. See u at mine? S x
Glancing guiltily between the shop ahead of her and the raging river behind, she decided that an hour or so wouldn’t make much difference. Better to wait at Silvan’s, catch up with him first, then go along to the shop afterwards.
It was only the second time she’d been to the gamekeepers’ scruffy house on the edge of the village. One of his housemates let her in.
‘He’s not back yet. Go on up if you like.’
He gave her a knowing look; she prided herself in meeting the older boy’s eye nonchalantly, feeling how much she’d grown up over the last few weeks.
Silvan’s attic room was as much of a mess as she remembered. Her room at home was better than this – bigger, brighter and cosier – but she wished he’d ask her here more often. She’d do anything to get away from her mum, her brother Simon, and now Philip. Stepping over strewn items of clothing on the floor, she made her way over to the window. There was a clear view of Bridge Farm. At first glance it looked untouched, until she saw the black ghosts of smoke staining the walls around a couple of windows. With a slight shiver, she imagined Silvan getting up, seeing the glow and rushing out. Just her luck to miss out on the excitement – why did she always manage to be away at the wrong time? She looked at her watch. Not long now before he’d be here to tell her about it in person.
She gathered some half-empty mugs together to take down to the kitchen. Shaking her head, she took his guitar from where it lay across the tatty sofa and set it on its stand, then bent to pick up an ashtray. As she straightened, she noticed a battered notebook sticking out from under a cushion. Another glance at her watch told her she had a few minutes. It might be where he jotted down his songs – she didn’t always get his lyrics, but she might catch a glimpse of an out-of-character love song, or… Boys didn’t usually keep diaries, but Silvan was different. It would be cool if he’d written something about her.
Carefully noting where she’d taken it from, she sat down and opened a random page.
Her breath caught. The handwriting struck her before a single word registered. This wasn’t Silvan’s spidery writing. This was Joe Sherwell’s. She flicked through and it fell open at a page marked by a No Surrender gig flyer.
10 September, 2001
I love some of the things our Bede comes out with. This evening we were up above the house looking at the weird orange glow in the sky. ‘They should learn to love the darkness,’ he says. ‘As long as there’s enough sunlight by day, enough light indoors to see by, darkness itself isn’t a threat. Don’t you agree?’ And he waves his arm out over the landscape. ‘Lighting the darkness not only gives them a false sense of security, but creates a deeper shadow beyond. So they tame that shadow with more light. Where will it end?’
And he looks at me as if he’s said something embarrassing. I nod, encouraging like, and he starts talking about how he used to imagine the streetlights as big cleansing fires across the hillsides of his childhood, scary and inescapable. It’s times when he opens up like that when I realise how close we’ve become.
The words our Bede and how close we’ve become had been underlined in blue biro and a belligerent circle surrounded big cleansing fires. Catching her breath, Tamsin glanced towards the window then flicked through to a page near the back that also fell open, similarly scrawled over.
So the tractor’s on the road at last. Never thought he’d do it. That showed me, didn’t it? Showed them, showed all those who think we’re hiding away doing nothing! Watch out, gas guzzlers!
Three additional blue biro exclamation marks had been added in the margin.
It’s been such a beautiful day. Not just the weather – we’re more than that. The three of us – I can’t express how much they mean to me. How lucky I am. Since they got married and came to live here, none of the rest of it, none of them, matter any more.
‘Oh, don’t they?’ the blue biro pronounced in Silvan’s writing.
I tried to get in touch with our Niall recently but he doesn’t want to know. Like our Emma didn’t. And I’m amazed to find I don’t care any more. Sod ’em. I have a new family now. And who knows, one day there may be more. Grandchildren – well, grand-nephews and nieces. Never thought I’d be bothered about that, but I heard them arguing
about starting a family and it got to me. I’ll have to have a word with our Bede. It sounded serious. I don’t want something like that to come between them. Us. Not now. The thought of a new life, chance for a new beginning thrills me, but I know we can be perfectly happy just the three of us, too. We’ll get through it either way. We’ve achieved so much together, and there’s so much more we can do.
The river’s rising and I fear there are floods on the way, but that won’t stop us.
Our next
The sound of footsteps on the stairs threw her into a panic. She shoved the diary back where it came from and sat trying to look casual as the door opened.
‘Tammy!’ Silvan paused, looking her up and down. ‘You’re early.’
She tried to nudge the book further beneath the cushion with her leg as she stood. ‘I was in the village – thought I’d surprise you,’ she said. ‘Did Liam tell you I’d arrived?’
‘Yeah. I’ve missed you.’ He grabbed hold of her and kissed her hard, then stepped back and studied her. ‘You’re looking good. Beautifully tanned. You’ve obviously had better weather than here.’
She smiled. ‘It’s been good. As good as it could be without you.’
His eyes slid past her to the sofa. ‘Have you been waiting long?’
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