by Anna Jacobs
Oh, she was being utterly stupid!
She drove to the small supermarket she’d seen as she came into town and bought a few groceries to tide her over.
When she’d unloaded them from the trolley into her car boot, she stood staring into space till an elderly woman stopped to ask, ‘Are you all right, dear?’
‘What? Oh. Sorry. Yes, of course, but thanks for asking. I was just thinking about something.’ She returned the trolley to its pen and drove back to the leisure village.
What a pity the fraud squad officer had been out. She needed action, not waiting around.
What was she going to do with herself? She couldn’t even furnish her house until she was sure of her financial situation. It’d have to be second-hand stuff, the sort of pieces she’d grown up with, used when she was first married, the sort she’d vowed never to use again. And Molly’s old furniture.
She still missed the beautiful big house she’d lived in with Guy, only he’d sold that years ago. She’d been planning to buy only furniture she loved for the new place. Ha! Beggars couldn’t be choosers. She’d take anything she could get.
Maybe she should ring Darcie now and tell her what had happened?
She looked at her watch. No, her daughter had gone back to work, leaving the baby in a daily childcare centre. She couldn’t contact Darcie until the evening.
It wasn’t the sort of news you dumped on someone at work, wasn’t the sort of news you wanted to share with anyone.
And she was not going to cry again.
When she got back, Lara put her groceries away in the caravan’s tiny fridge but was unable to settle, so she went across to her house. She walked round it slowly, relieved that the fridge and cooker had been included in the price. How few items of furniture could she get away with? A bed, a sofa, a table and a couple of upright chairs?
Slowly, determination grew in her about one thing at least: she wasn’t giving this place up. It had taken too much effort to buy the house and be mortgage free. She’d take any sort of job, live frugally, manage somehow, but she wasn’t giving up her new home. And she wasn’t going on social security, except as a very last resort. She never had done and never would do willingly!
On that thought, she sealed her vow with a nod of the head and went across to the sales office. Molly was there, chatting to a couple. Lara saw a rack of tourist brochures for the area and went to look through them. She even put a few into her shoulder bag.
When the couple had gone to look round one of the show houses for a second time, Lara looked at Molly and managed a half-smile and a shrug. ‘I’ve reported it to the police. I’m not the only one Crichton’s stolen from, apparently. Someone from the fraud squad is going to get in touch with me.’
‘I hope they catch him, and quickly. I hate cheats and thieves!’
Lara took a deep breath and did something she loathed, something she’d tried not to do since her divorce: she asked for help. ‘Can I take you up on your offer of some furniture, please? I can manage with very little for the time being, just stuff you were going to chuck out. I’m going to move into my house and once I’ve spoken to the police again, I’ll go round the charity shops and see what I can find.’
Molly looked thoughtful. ‘Look, Marlbury makes a big thing of its half-yearly Pass It On Day and people put all sorts of things they no longer need outside their houses, including furniture. The council boasts that it acts responsibly about waste, so it offers support for the initiative. Call me cynical, but I think it’s also a lot cheaper for them to let people take things away at no cost to the town than it is to dispose of them.’
She patted Lara’s shoulder. ‘You’re in luck with one thing at least, because this is the weekend of the spring recycling appeal. You might find it cheaper to drive round the nearby suburbs this weekend and simply pick up some of the things people have put outside their houses. Some of them are free, some have a price on them. They’re never expensive, though. If you go early, like about seven o’clock in the morning, you’ll probably have a better choice.’
‘Good idea. I’ll do that.’
‘I’ll find a map and mark on it where I’d go first.’ Molly came across to the rack of brochures.
‘I’m really grateful for your help.’ Lara heard how quavery her voice sounded and was annoyed with herself.
‘I wish I could do more to help. I’ll introduce you to my husband later. We’ll bring the bed and stuff round tomorrow morning early on our way to work. If you’ll be all right in the caravan tonight, that is? Only, we’re going round to some friends’ for dinner tonight.’
‘That’ll be fine. And thank you. I think I’ll feel better in my own home after tonight, though.’
‘I would too.’
Lara went back to the caravan, sat down and stared at her minimalist possessions. Two suitcases, her carry-on bag and a few food items.
She couldn’t bear it, so went out to get a breath of fresh air, ending up following a well-marked trail round the small lake. It was peaceful but getting chilly as the sun had now started to go down.
She sat on a bench and watched some ducks.
How on earth was she going to fill the time till things were sorted out about John Crichton? She’d expected to be happily busy making a home, getting to know people.
Hunger drove her back to the house and she made a sandwich, but could only eat half of it. She was about to throw the rest away when she realised she couldn’t afford to waste a mouthful of food, so she wrapped it up again and put it in the fridge. She’d been super-careful after her divorce and it had paid off. And later an unexpected inheritance from her godmother had made a big difference to her retirement fund as well. She’d been lucky – until now.
When her phone rang she nearly jumped out of her skin. ‘Yes?’
‘Lara Perryman? Donald Metcalf here, from the fraud squad. Would it be convenient for my partner and I to come round and speak to you now?’
‘Yes, of course.’ She told them where she was living at the moment.
‘We’ll be about ten minutes.’
‘Fine,’ she said as she hurried back to the house.
The doorbell rang shortly afterwards and she looked round in despair as she answered it.
They immediately showed her their ID cards and she nodded. ‘Come in. I’m afraid I don’t have any furniture yet. I’m staying in the caravan till I can find something.’ She indicated it through the window.
‘Wiped you clean, has he?’
‘Of my superannuation money and most of my savings, yes.’ She gave them the details of what had happened and answered their questions.
When they’d finished, she couldn’t resist asking if they had any idea yet where John Crichton had gone.
‘I’m afraid not. I think he must have set up another identity. These people often do. If so, he’s done it more skilfully than usual. But we’ll keep going until we’ve exhausted all avenues. This is my number if you find anything out. Even the smallest detail can help.’ He handed her a card and his companion did the same.
Then he hesitated. ‘You don’t have a clear photo of him, do you? We’ve not managed to get hold of one that’s any use. His driving licence photo is rubbish and he’s left no photographs behind in his flat.’
She had to think hard, then said slowly, ‘I don’t have one but my daughter might, if she’s still kept it, that is. He didn’t like having his photo taken, but I think one of the first times I went to see him I took Darcie with me and she had a new mobile phone with some sort of special camera on it. She kept taking photos of everything all day or asking me to take photos of her. Nearly drove me mad. What do people do with all these photos?’
‘Who knows? Could you ask her if she still has his photo? We can’t find a decent one of him anywhere and since this is the first time he’s committed a crime, he’s not on our books.’
‘I’ll do that and get back to you, probably tomorrow evening. I need to see her and tell her what’s happened. I ca
n’t do that on the phone.’
She said goodbye to them, went across to the caravan and ate the rest of the sandwich, and an apple.
Afterwards she phoned Darcie and asked if she could call and see her tomorrow. ‘I have something to tell you.’
‘From the tone of your voice that sounds ominous, Mum.’
‘It is bad news, I’m afraid.’
The words were sharp. ‘You’re not ill?’
‘No, no. It’s nothing like that. I’ll tell you tomorrow.’ She tried to divert Darcie’s attention and succeeded. ‘I’m so looking forward to meeting Minnie in person. She looks gorgeous in the photos.’
‘She is gorgeous. Carter’s besotted with her. Talk about the proud papa. Look, I’ve got the afternoon off tomorrow. They let us do some flexing at work and I built up a few hours. You could come mid-afternoon. I’ll have finished all my shopping and washing by then. We’ll have a good old natter and then we’ll all go out to the local pub for tea. They do a good meal at a reasonable price.’
‘What will you do with Minnie?’
‘Take her with us. She’s a most obliging baby. She loves going to places full of people and when she’s tired she falls asleep, even if it’s noisy.’
‘Lovely. I’ll be there about three.’
So that was another step organised. She wondered what Darcie and Carter would say to her news, whether they’d think her a fool for trusting Crichton.
Was she a fool? How could she have known, though? He’d been so charming, the pig.
Molly and Euan were bringing some furniture round tomorrow morning, so she’d be able to move into her own house. It’d be a rush to get everything done before she saw Darcie, so that was the day nicely filled. Then on Saturday morning she’d go hunting for furniture to fill the gaps.
She might have a preliminary look at second-hand cars on Sunday. Only what did she know about the best sort of vehicle to buy? She’d had company cars since she and Guy split up and he’d been the one to sort out their personal cars while they were married, because he’d started out as a car salesman. He had his own car dealership these days, a big lucrative one, but she wasn’t going to run to him for help.
He’d probably sneer at her for getting into trouble. He’d prophesied that she wouldn’t manage her money well when they split up.
He was right. She’d thought she was so clever, finding a financial adviser to handle things. And look at what had happened.
She was so jetlagged she went to bed early, expecting to lie awake, but instead she fell straight asleep.
Chapter Six
In the morning, Lara felt somewhat better physically and more in control of her emotions, thank goodness. She made herself a cup of tea and since there was a bench in front of the caravan and it was a beautiful morning, she sat outside to drink it. Maybe she could find a bench to put outside her own house.
She held her face up to the sun, trying to will her body to respond. She needed to shake off the dopiness of jetlag and fit into this time pattern as quickly as possible if she was to pull herself out of this mess. Surely the police would catch Crichton and get her money back? She had to hold on to that hope.
By eight o’clock she’d had breakfast, cleared up and was ready to move all her possessions into her own home.
As she chased another fly out of the caravan, she felt glad she’d had insect screens fitted to the house, as they did in Australia. She didn’t want to share her house with wasps or bees, to whose stings she reacted badly, not to mention bluebottles and – ugh! – daddy-long-legs. The latter were her weakness. She hated the horrid fluttery things, had done ever since one of them had got tangled in her hair when she was a child.
To her relief, Molly and Euan turned up pulling a trailer soon after she’d unpacked her clothes and hung them in the built-in wardrobe in her new bedroom. She hurried outside to join them, eager to see what they’d brought.
‘Voilà!’ Molly gestured towards the trailer, which was heavily loaded with a jumble of furniture.
‘Are you sure you can spare them?’
Euan chuckled. ‘I’m delighted. It saves me a trip to the council tip and a payment to them for taking these off my hands, so you’re doing us a favour. Just one thing, though!’
‘Oh?’
‘We don’t want them back.’
Lara relaxed a little at the thought she was actually giving something in return. ‘Well, then, thank you very much.’
‘They’re all rather old and worn,’ Molly said apologetically. ‘And nothing matches.’
‘Appearance is the least of my worries. If I have a bed, I can move in.’
‘Do you have any bedding?’
‘I will have by this evening. I’m going to pick my stuff up from my daughter’s this afternoon. She lives near Cirencester.’
‘Not too far away, then.’
‘No, not too far.’
When they left, Molly to open the sales office and Euan to work in his office at the hotel, Lara walked round the house. She was now the owner of a single bed. It was a cheap one and bounced about when you turned over on it, but who cared? Maybe she could do something about the legs to steady it or put the mattress base on the floor.
There was an old chest which could be used as a bedside table, she decided. It was so heavy she and Euan had had difficulty lugging it upstairs. Thank goodness the wardrobes and a few sets of drawers were built in for both the larger bedrooms. She’d paid extra for that when the house was being constructed.
Downstairs there were now an old armchair and an equally elderly sofa. They were different in style, one maroon and one fawn, but who cared? She was also now the proud owner of seven assorted garden chairs, five of which were white plastic that had faded to a sort of grotty ivory colour. Two were made of bare wooden slats and much less comfortable. One of the plastic ones had paint splashes on it, to add to the elegance!
There was a garden table too, also of white plastic, which she’d use indoors with a tablecloth covering the stains. And finally there were two boxes of assorted crockery and odd items like vases and mixing bowls.
She unpacked them, glad of every single one because she had nothing in her kitchen cupboards at the moment, except for the few tins and packets she’d bought yesterday.
The last item was an old radio and she pounced on that in delight, plugging it in and feeling better to have human voices and occasional music to keep her company.
She’d have to do a big shopping trip to stock up her pantry because it was cheaper to cook for yourself and anyway, she had to watch her weight. It was a continuous battle to keep down to a size 14 because her body seemed eager to gain weight if she so much as blinked at a bar of chocolate.
She spent the rest of the morning sorting everything out. Then she began making lists and prioritising what she absolutely had to buy, like a kettle.
At one point she phoned the car company asking whether she could have a refund if she returned the car early and they said yes, but they’d have to ask for one extra day’s payment as penalty. So buying a car went higher on her list.
She was dreading doing that, though, absolutely dreading it. Guy had always said you could hear whether an engine was working smoothly or not. Well, he might be able to, but she couldn’t.
She forced herself to go for another walk round the lake. Daylight and exercise, that was the trick to shake off jetlag and to fight off depression.
It was a relief when it was time to leave for her daughter’s in the afternoon.
She decided to buy or rent a TV quite soon or she’d go mad in the evenings. And find a few books from a charity shop or the cheap tray in a newsagent’s.
All the time she kept expecting a phone call, disappointed when the police didn’t get back in touch. How could a person just disappear? It made her furiously angry to think that John Crichton might get away with his thefts.
When Lara drew up at Darcie’s house, she took a deep breath before getting out of the car. She wasn’t
looking forward to telling her tale.
Her daughter opened the front door before she got there, holding a chubby baby in her arms. Little Minnie was beaming at the world and waving her arms around, and was even more adorable in person than when you FaceTimed her.
‘She’s lovely!’ Lara automatically held out her arms and the baby reached out to her. With tears in her eyes, she held the rosy infant close as she followed Darcie inside. Then her daughter took Minnie out of her arms and put her on a blanket on the floor.
‘My turn for a cuddle now, Mum, if you’re in the mood for it. You aren’t always.’
‘I am today.’
So they rocked to and fro, and Lara managed not to cry.
‘What is it?’ Darcie asked softly. ‘I can’t remember seeing you this upset, except when you and Dad were breaking up. Sit down and tell me what’s wrong before we do anything else.’
So Lara did that, unable to stop herself shedding a few tears as she explained the situation. ‘I’ll have to get a job, of course. But first I have to buy a car and some furniture, and – you know – settle in a bit. At least I have a mortgage-free house.’ She shrugged helplessly.
Darcie was wiping her eyes too. ‘It’s horrible, just horrible. How could that man do this to you?’
‘How could I be so stupid as to be taken in by him?’
‘I met him once, didn’t I? He seemed charming, if he’s the one I’m thinking of.’
That reminded Lara about the police wanting a better photo of him and she explained about it to Darcie.
‘I’ll look through my files tonight and let you know. It may take me a couple of evenings to find it, but I rarely destroy anything. If I remember correctly, you were in the shot too. I’m not likely to have destroyed the photo, then.’
‘Good. I’d do anything to help the police catch him. I read in the paper before I left Australia about a facial recognition system picking a wanted criminal out of a crowd. Crichton’s a wanted criminal now, only they haven’t got a good enough photo of him.’
