Chemotherapy, hair loss, depression – it was all faced alone. It had been Caroline’s decision to divorce and everything had been straightforward. Her husband had been relieved when she had made the demand. He had thrown money and the house at her. Anything to get away.
As her hair came back, so did her confidence. Caroline was still a distance from being happy again and the holiday was her first step down that road. Tim had appeared with perfect timing. As they got to know each other, Caroline’s recent history was revealed to Tim and it did not scare him off.
Being with Caroline made Tim reflect on his time with Alison. His beautiful blond wife, now deceased, had looked good on his arm. That had been his mistake. Style over substance. Decorative was all very well, but it did not hold one’s attention or retain one’s interest. Real conversations and discussions happened when he was with Caroline.
Never one to dwell on his past mistakes, Tim thought about Alison’s murder in a positive way. He had freed himself of a burden and that had led him to Caroline. Thoughts of Beth always muddied the water, so he tried not to think about her at all. It was hard to do, though. What would she look like now?
The big problem with Caroline was maintaining the lie of his previous life. As they chatted, his guard would be down. The story which he had concocted had come perilously close to falling apart a few times.
When Tim had shared the caravan with Hugh they had often talked for hours in the evening. A lot had been learned about his friend’s life, and he had based his life story on the things he had discovered.
“So, you’ve never been married?” Caroline asked.
“Er, no.” Tim had paused a little too long, and he saw the look on Caroline’s face.
“You don’t sound too sure about that.”
“No, positive that I’ve never been married. I was engaged, came close, hence the hesitation. I knew it wasn’t right though, and I walked away. We would have made a pretty couple, but that’s not enough to base a marriage on, is it?”
“A good-looking man like you, I bet there have been a fair few women trying to tie you down.”
“Some. I think most of them pick up on my restless nature. They know I’m not the type to settle down. Well, I wasn’t.”
“What’s changed?”
“It’s all about finding the right woman. By the way, that’s you.”
“I’m very glad about that.”
The word “love” had been used, by both of them, and it looked as if the relationship was moving to the next level. Tim would be moving into the very nice house that Caroline owned. Maybe they would get married at some point, too. He had met her – adult – son, Ryan, and they had got on well. Everything was looking good.
Caroline was a few years older than him, but that was not a problem. Ryan lived in a different part of the country and only visited occasionally. Tim could have a comfortable life with a woman he loved. Who would have thought that was possible when he boarded the train after murdering his wife?
“I never thought I would see the day. Romeo has been snared and is off the market.” Brad was hearing the news about Tim moving in with Caroline.
“It’s true. Just shows you what happens when you meet the right one. Like that girl of yours, Brad. If she’s the one, don’t wait, go for it.” Tim gave his younger colleague his sage advice. Advice that he would not have dispensed before he met Caroline.
His journey over the last few years had been interesting. From the hell of an unhappy marriage, to the depths of life in a caravan, and then on to life in a beautiful home with a beautiful woman who he loved. The murder was so far in the past that he didn’t worry about it anymore. He could relax because he had, so far, got away with it.
Chapter 30
Caroline had never thought that she would be happy again. Her life had been horrendous over the last few years. It was strange that all that misery had led her to where she was today. As it was happening, the darkness had seemed impenetrable. Then a flicker of light before she emerged into the sunlight once more.
Sighing, she thought about her husband. The anger had dissipated long ago and had been replaced by disappointment. Twenty-five years had been spent with a man who had never loved her enough. Her material needs had been met, but her emotional needs were ignored. When the cancer diagnosis had been revealed, his response had been sadly predictable, asking what she needed and offering to increase her credit card limit.
The negative feelings towards her husband would not help Caroline to fight the cancer. Each day without an enquiry about her health, or another late night at the office, a ruse to avoid facing her, made her journey harder. To sort out her feelings, she had spoken to her son.
“Your father just stays out of my way. He obviously can’t face the fact that I’m ill,” Caroline told Ryan.
“I know, Mum. It was unlikely that he was going to change after all these years. He’s always been buttoned up and unable to show emotion.”
“I thought it might break through his hard shell. I’ve got cancer, for God’s sake, not a nasty cold. I’ve been having treatment for three months and I still don’t know what he thinks about it all. It’s only after I glare at him that he remembers to ask how I am.”
“Don’t let him get to you. Focus on yourself and forget about him.”
“I don’t know that ignoring him is the answer. My illness, everything that’s happening to me, has made it abundantly clear that he either doesn’t care enough to support me or is emotionally incapable of doing so. Whatever the reason, I have to remove him from my life. It has been a long time coming, but now I have to make it official. I’m going to ask for a divorce.”
“Well, I’m sad to hear you say it, but I understand. And, of course, I’ll back you all the way. On the positive side, it will be drama free because he won’t want any fuss.”
“When I tell him, he might shrug a bit more vigorously. His version of distress.”
Ryan had helped so much. As he had suggested, the divorce was extremely civilised. No arguments about money or property. The agreement was designed to get Caroline’s husband out of the situation as easily and quickly as possible.
Without the added pressure, Caroline endured the chemo and, slowly, got better. The cruise had been her gift to herself, to celebrate her recovery. The illness was bad, but it had led to her jettisoning her husband, feeling lighter and freer than she had in years, and then meeting Hugh.
His sparkling blue eyes and rakish looks made Caroline think that Hugh was a love-them-and-leave-them type. That was how he had been in the past, she was sure. Yet, they were still together and now he was moving in with her. Attentive, demonstrative, fun – all the things that her ex-husband was not. She had hit the jackpot.
There were times when Caroline wondered about Hugh Miller. She didn’t doubt his feelings for her. The words “I love you” were sincere. But there were anomalies. Hesitations as he told varying stories from his past. Times when he would gaze off into the distance and she had no idea what was running through his mind.
Weighing up the pros and the cons, Caroline went with the love, care and kindness, and chose to ignore the mystery. Whatever had happened to Hugh before they met was not affecting their life now. Nothing could change her mind about this wonderful man.
Life had been so scary and fragile a few months ago. Now, everything was good. Occasionally, there was regret about the years she had wasted with her ex, but she had Ryan and that made it better. Maybe someday Hugh would tell her his secrets, but if he didn’t, it really wasn’t a problem.
Chapter 31
Arriving at the dock, Tim stopped dead as he surveyed the scene in front of him. Two police cars were parked in front of the building where he worked. Was this it? Had the police tracked him to the port? Taking a couple of deep breaths, he dispelled the panic and tried to think about what he was seeing.
If the police had come to arrest him, parking outside the port building was not the best tactic. He could simply turn a
round and walk away. No, this couldn’t be about him. And standing nervously instead of going into the building did not look good. Forcing himself to move forward, he got a better picture of what was going on.
Walking through the entrance and turning a corner, Tim could now see the dock. A large container ship dominated the view. An ambulance was parked at the bottom of a gangway, and the police officers were assisting the paramedics. An injury, or a death, on one of the ships was being investigated. They were not there about him, but that did not mean that he could avoid them. As a manager, he would have to speak to the police.
The office first, Tim decided. Deposit his coat and put on his employee badge. Seeing the name Hugh Miller, they would not get the opportunity to imagine he was someone else. A quick look in the mirror followed. The man that he saw – closely cropped hair, which was now grey at the temples – was a long way from the picture that had appeared in the papers all those years ago. Confidence restored, he headed out to deal with the incident.
“Morning, I’m Hugh Miller, just coming onto my shift. Can you bring me up to date with what’s going on?” A hand held out, an easy smile tinged with concern, an air of authority. Tim waited for a response.
“Hello, Mr Miller.” The senior policeman shook his hand.
“Call me Hugh.”
“Well, Hugh, a member of the ship’s crew was found dead this morning. At this point there is no indication of foul play, but we will get a medical report before we can confirm that conclusion.”
“Of course. Let me know if there is anything that you need.”
“Thanks. One of your colleagues has provided the paperwork and details we need, so everything is under control.”
Tim stayed at the scene of the drama for a few minutes before returning to the office. Strolling away, unhurried, raising a hand in farewell, a smile on his face. A smile which turned to laughter once he had put some distance between them. He had been talking to the police and they had no idea who he was.
He was still a wanted man, Tim was sure of that, but time had worked its magic and he was no longer a priority or foremost in the police’s mind. In his home town, it might have been a different story. Here, hundreds of miles away, he was not on their radar. It was crazy to think that he would be recognised after so long, but his heart had still skipped a beat when he saw the police cars. Stay vigilant, he told himself. His situation would never allow him to become complacent.
“There was drama at work today. A crewman on one of the ships was found dead. They think it was from natural causes, but the police were there.” Tim was telling Caroline about his day.
It gave him a thrill to talk about his encounter with the police. His heart had beat faster at the sight of them, but a possible disaster had turned to triumph.
“I talked to the officers, but most of it had been dealt with before I arrived.” I spoke to the police and they didn’t know me, is what he meant.
“Nothing so exciting for me. The usual paperwork and phone calls.” Caroline worked for a charity, keeping records and doing general admin.
“I would say, on the whole, not exciting is the better option. Well, where work is concerned,” Tim said. “What we need is some holiday excitement. And not on a ship.”
“You’re right. We’ve been talking about it for a while. Let’s get something booked. Where do you fancy going?”
“Some sun, I think. A beach, a bar, a pool and fine food.”
Tim enjoyed his job, had a beautiful, wealthy girlfriend, and was living in a luxurious home. The police had not shown even a flicker of interest in him. He was feeling like a really lucky man.
Chapter 32
Beth felt that her life didn’t really start until she was eighteen. The trauma of her early years, witnessing the violence against her mother followed by the murder, had been replaced by sharing a home with her manic grandmother. Everything had felt temporary and, finally, she was feeling settled.
Anna had helped her get sorted and she was now in a position to enjoy herself. At first, Beth had struggled to think what she wanted to do with her new-found independence. The only joy she had experienced was vicariously, through the programmes she watched on television. The real world now beckoned and she had no clue what to do.
Quiet and in the background at school, Beth had not really made any proper friends. Speaking to and having lunch with a couple of girls was as near as she had got. Now she was at college, studying journalism, things would have to change. Free of her Nana’s foibles, she could now go out when she pleased, invite people over and, most importantly, wear what she wanted.
The clothes had been pulled out of the wardrobe and drawers and were now spread on the bed. The pastel shades, high necklines and superfluous frills were displayed, ready to be judged. The criteria applied were: would she have bought it herself, and was it appropriate for a teenager? An awful lot of things were being culled.
As Beth handled the blouses and cardigans, she thought about her grandmother. Stepping up and taking on a job she obviously didn’t want, Heather had done the best she could. Alison had been the apple of her mother’s eye and Beth was not a replacement. That meant the exacting standards were not applied to her. Not being deeply loved by Nana had actually been a blessing.
Beth did miss her grandmother, but she wouldn’t miss her opinions on what she should wear. No more shopping trips where she was constantly overruled and a parade of matronly items were thrust at her. There was money in the bank, lots of it, and she was going to buy herself new clothes.
Practical and methodical, Beth studied the girls at college. What were they wearing? Shoes, handbags, accessories – everything was noted. Next, magazines which featured fashion spreads. Nana had read all the magazines for news of celebrities. Beth was looking at clues for what clothes to buy. The aspirational outfits that were too expensive, but supplied ideas. Prepared and clutching her bank card, Beth set forth.
On one of the outings with Nana, a helpful lady in the department store, called Marcy, had suggested different colours and styles. Nana had waved her away – she knew best – but Beth would seek out that lady, and her counsel. Excitement mounted as she got off the bus and walked along the high street.
The shop assistant recognised Beth and welcomed her.
“Hello, is your grandmother not with you today?”
“No, she died.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.” Taken aback by Beth’s bluntness, she was at a loss for what to say.
“It’s okay. It was a few months ago and I’m alright now. She used to choose all my clothes.”
“Yes, I remember.”
“Anyway, I need a lot of new stuff. More appropriate for my age. You came up with some ideas last time I was here, and I need your help.”
“Okay. Let’s find you some stuff without frills. I bet you’ve had enough of pastel shades as well.”
“Yes, I need help with colours and styles. I know what I don’t like, but not what I do like. Well, I’ve seen things that I want, but I don’t know if they will suit me.”
“Tell me what you like and we will start there.”
Beth grinned widely at the nice shop lady. When she approached the cash desk an hour later with an armful of clothes, her happiness was complete. Marcy had been slightly surprised when Beth embraced her, but had accepted her thanks graciously. The much needed change was underway.
Chapter 33
Good old Anna. Her pep talks and advice, calmness and sense, had helped Beth to find her place in the world. Now, she was putting her mark on it and becoming her own woman. The clothes would make a huge difference. Having one’s own style had never seemed important until she had discovered her look.
This had started with some honest, but painful, conversations. All the issues that had been hidden and denied for years had come out into the open. Beth faced what had been a traumatic childhood, and acknowledged how disturbing it had been. There wouldn’t be any histrionics at this stage, that was not her way
, but there was deep reflection.
Anna had encouraged her to make Nana’s house her home. Beth would never be comfortable in the place if it was decorated in Heather’s way. The ritual discarding of the artificial flowers had been cathartic and had commenced a gradual change of her environment. There was an awful lot to do.
Everything in the house was bedecked with a floral design. The colour palette ranged from washed-out to pastel. It looked like all the contents had been exposed to bright sunlight for a century. In an effort to liven things up, Beth was now in possession of dozens of colour charts from the local DIY store. Walls needed to be painted.
The temptation to paint the living room bright red was resisted. Anna had pointed out how that could affect her mood, and sense prevailed. A number of coloured squares now adorned the wall as she tested a range of hues. There was not going to be anything wishy-washy, but there was a case for subtle.
The curtains, with their frilly pelmets and fancy tie backs, were soon gone. No wonder Nana had spent so much time cleaning, everything that she owned seemed designed to gather dust. Not entirely sure what minimalist really meant, Beth took that as the basis for her redecoration. Doilies and china trinkets had no place in what would be her modern home.
The garage was somewhere that Beth had never ventured. It was packed with boxes, and virtually inaccessible. It could not be ignored any longer, she was going in. The things stored inside proved to be a surprise. The contents of her parent’s house had been stuffed in there when the place was cleared. There were boxes of china, pots and pans, her father’s tools, not that he used them much, and the inevitable stack of paperwork.
This was not something she could do alone. Beth called Anna and told her what she had found.
“I only opened a couple of boxes before I realised what was in the garage. I never asked what happened to all their stuff. Now I know. The thought of going through it all is a bit daunting.”
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