by Anna Jacobs
‘Thank you for your honesty, monsieur. We shall have to manage without the operations, then. It was only vanity, after all, because Anthony is older than me and doesn’t like to look it. I shall still love my husband, whatever he does.’
She hadn’t once let his real name slip, John thought. She was better at this than he was. Since he couldn’t think what to say or do next, he let her take charge and get them out of there.
The bill shocked him because it was huge, but Sandra paid it without blinking, using the new credit card he’d provided her with.
‘You’ll have to transfer some more money to this account,’ she said cheerfully. ‘I’m afraid I spent rather lavishly on new clothes.’
When they left, they took with them a referral letter to a woman who was one of the top cardiologists in Paris.
‘I’m not seeing anyone else,’ John said as they sat in the taxi.
‘Shh now, we’ll discuss it later.’
He stared down at the envelope, tempted to throw the damned referral out of the window, but she took it from him and put it in her handbag.
He leant back and closed his eyes, wishing they were anywhere but Paris.
He felt very English today; he didn’t know why.
And was regretting what he’d done.
Back in the flat, he flung himself down on the uncomfortably hard sofa and, after a moment’s hesitation, she sat beside him and put her hand in his.
He patted her beautifully manicured fingers. ‘I’m sorry to let you down, Sandra. It’s all been for nothing.’
‘You haven’t let me down, John dear. We did make sure we had an alternative, just in case. It’ll have to be South America after all.’
‘South America!’
‘Yes. We’d better both start learning Portuguese, hadn’t we?’
‘I don’t want to go there and I’ve never been good at languages, anyway. You’ve heard how badly I speak French and I studied it for years at school.’
She patted his hand. ‘You’ll soon learn a language which is being spoken all round you, day in, day out.’
‘I don’t want to learn Portuguese and I hate the thought of going to live in South America. That’s why I was going to have the plastic surgery.’
‘I know, darling, but it’ll be all right and you’ll feel better once we get settled there. You’ll see.’
She stood up and he shot her a quick, anxious look.
‘I’ll make us a nice cup of tea, shall I?’
He watched her move gracefully around the kitchen area. She was not only younger but much fitter than he’d ever be. Why would she want to stay with him now?
As she handed him his cup, she said abruptly, ‘I’ll have to go and see my contact here. We should start putting some new plans into place. No use waiting. We should leave as soon as possible. Will you be all right?’
He said yes, of course he did. He’d say yes to anything she wanted. Maybe he was an old fool, but he needed her desperately. She made life exciting, made him laugh. Perhaps even now it wouldn’t be too bad.
If things worked out.
If nothing else went wrong.
Not for the first time, he wondered how she’d found all these contacts. It had certainly cost him a lot to pay for what they provided.
Oh, what did it matter as long as they got away?
Only it did matter, he found, as he sat there with his thoughts whirling round like dervishes in his brain. He only had her word about her past life. What if she was … a criminal?
Oh, he was being silly. This was Sandra, his Sandra.
Then he reminded himself that they were both criminals now.
With a sigh, he switched on the television, snuggling down on the sofa to watch a football match. At least you didn’t need to speak French to know what was happening in sports programmes.
But he couldn’t even concentrate on that and he usually enjoyed football, because he kept looking at his watch, wondering what she was doing, why she was taking so long.
Would he be safe without the plastic surgery? There was this facial recognition stuff the police could now use. He’d read about it, seen it on TV. You had to be extremely careful of what you did and where you went.
Facial recognition was still in its infancy, but it would improve quickly, he was sure. Technology seemed to be on the gallop these days, changing the world faster than a plain man like him could keep up with it.
Sandra had assured him that plastic surgery would change him so that neither machines nor humans could ever identify him again as John Meyer Crichton, late of London.
It had all been in vain, though, damn it! He was richer now than he’d ever expected to be, far richer, yet he couldn’t do much with all that money, let alone make Sandra’s life a happy, interesting one. He had to live quietly because of his heart. And live in a foreign country, whose language he didn’t speak.
Fate was catching up with him, he realised suddenly. He was going to pay for his crimes one way or another. Only he had to somehow make sure she could get out of this mess safely.
But South America! Oh dear, that was where criminals went in bad movies. The Great Train Robbers had gone there too in real life, if he remembered correctly.
Why the hell had he done it? He’d been making a good living.
Oh, he knew why: he’d done it to show off to his younger second wife, that was why, prove that he was still a bit of a lad.
Would she even stay with him now?
His heart hiccupped in his chest and he pressed one hand against it till it settled down again.
Then another worry crept into his mind. What if she was just pretending to love him? What if she took the money and vanished?
No, Sandra wouldn’t do that – would she?
Well, she couldn’t at the moment because he had to be involved in their major financial arrangements for money to be transferred. They’d planned to share control of the money once they were safely away because he didn’t want any suspicious changes to show in his bank records before that.
Maybe he wouldn’t share control with her yet. He didn’t want her to be able to leave him high and dry if he became too big a burden. And he also didn’t want anyone to blame her if the two of them were found out. He would tell her that he was doing this to keep her safe if they were caught.
He’d make a will leaving everything he owned to her, of course he would, but he’d keep the money under his own control. He knew more than she did about banks and figures and money transfers, so it’d be relatively easy for him to make sure she couldn’t steal the money from him.
That decision felt right, made with his brain not his heart.
He began to think it through. At least he could still plan better than most people, weak heart or not. He’d already proved that.
When he felt hungry and looked at his watch, he found that three hours had passed. Where the hell was Sandra? She should have been back by now.
Chapter Thirteen
The next morning, while she was finishing getting ready to go out and look round the antiques centre with Ross, Lara heard a car draw up outside. Naturally she went to peer out of the bedroom window. You did that automatically when you lived so close to your neighbours, she’d found.
She immediately jerked back out of sight. Oh no! It was Guy. What did he want now?
Well, it wouldn’t be right to pretend not to be here because she owed him for the car, so she ran down to answer the door, waiting for him to say why he was there.
‘You’re looking more rested today, Lara.’ He studied her openly. ‘You’re certainly wearing well. Aren’t you going to invite me in for a cup of coffee?’
‘I’m just getting ready for work. And why are you calling at this hour of the morning, anyway? Unless you’ve changed your modus operandi totally, you’re usually in the office at this time of day, seeing that everything starts smoothly.’
‘I’ve changed, as I’m sure you have, too.’
He was still waiting, head on one side, a chal
lenging half-smile on his face, so she said, ‘Oh, come in, then.’ She waved one hand towards the furniture. ‘You have the choice of a garden chair at the kitchen table or an uncomfortable armchair with a view of the patio.’
He took the garden chair, sitting near the kitchen area watching her, rather too close for comfort. You could never ignore his presence.
She put the kettle on and stayed at the other side of the table, waiting for him to explain why he was here.
‘I thought you and I might take young Minnie out to the park this coming Sunday, like other fond grandparents do. Apart from the fact that you’ll want to get to know her better and she’s a great little kid, I think Darcie and Carter might welcome some time on their own.’
Lara had been going to refuse to go out with him, but had to ask, ‘Why? Aren’t they getting on?’
‘They’re getting on just fine, but like all young couples, they need time together. I’ve been thinking of taking young Minnie out, but I will confess to chickening out about doing it on my own. I’m no good at changing nappies.’
‘You never were.’
He shrugged and grimaced. ‘That wasn’t feigned. Dirty nappies really did make me want to throw up, still do. Anyway, how about it?’
She didn’t know what to say. It’d be lovely to see Minnie and she should have thought of taking her granddaughter out herself. ‘All right.’
‘Don’t overwhelm me with your enthusiasm.’
‘I won’t.’ She plonked a cup of instant coffee in front of him and sat down. ‘What time and what is there to do at this park?’
‘I’ll pick you up just before ten in the morning, then we’ll grab Minnie and take her to the park near my flat. It’s an upmarket one, with a special playground for littlies: strap-in swings, a very low slide and rubbery stuff on the ground in case they fall. Talk about occ. health and safety taking all the fun out of playing pirates! You might like to wear jeans or shorts.’
She felt uneasy, because she was sure there was something behind this, but she couldn’t think of a reason for refusing and she did want to see Minnie, so she said, ‘All right.’
He took a sip, managing not to grimace.
She didn’t attempt to hide her amusement. ‘I still don’t drink coffee myself, Guy, and I get so few visitors, it’s not worth buying the fancy stuff.’
‘Hmm. I’ll have to get used to this sort, then.’
‘Why would you want to?’
He didn’t pretend not to understand. ‘Because of what I said last time. Grandparents who get on with one another make for happy family get-togethers.’
‘You never used to care about our children when they were little. You were utterly work oriented.’
‘And by the time I realised there was more to life, they were nearing the end of high school and you were just as work oriented as I had been.’ He held up one hand to stop her carrying on. ‘Can we let those particular sleeping dogs lie? I paid for my various mistakes big time. Let’s start off a new phase of our lives as friends, eh? I’ve always enjoyed your company and we’ve never been short of something interesting to chat about, have we?’
She shrugged, then confessed, ‘I don’t feel able to chat about anything that’d interest you at the moment, Guy. My mind’s in turmoil.’
‘No news from the police?’
‘Nope. Not a single thing.’
‘I’m sorry to hear that.’ Then he caught sight of his watch and stood up. ‘I have a meeting scheduled in half an hour, so I’d better get on with my day and leave you to yours.’
She hid behind the curtain and watched him go. Big swooshy car this time. It suddenly occurred to her that he was still a good-looking man.
Why hadn’t she dreamt about him? Why was it Ross who had joined her in a rather exotic dream?
Because the thing she’d had for Guy was over and done with. The sight of him no longer made her heart beat faster. Surely he didn’t want to revive their relationship?
No, of course he didn’t. This was what he’d said: wanting to keep the family together, for Darcie and Minnie’s sake. And Carter’s too, she supposed, only she didn’t know her son-in-law very well. He’d happened along during her travelling years. She’d met him when she came back between projects and had come home to see Darcie married, naturally. But she’d never spent much time with him and no time at all, now she came to think of it, on a one-to-one basis.
It had been a nice wedding but not fancy, at the couple’s request. They were such a sensible pair, not into wasting money on weddings when they needed to save up for a house deposit.
Guy had given them a big chunk of money as a wedding present.
She had never been in his league financially so had given them what she considered reasonable and Darcie, bless her, had asked if she was sure she could afford that much.
Guy had still been with Julie then, so Lara had felt rather alone at the local pub after the registry office wedding.
Oh, why was she going through all that stuff again? Coming home had certainly stirred up the embers of her life.
She might ring Guy and say she preferred to take Minnie out on her own. Or she might not. She felt disoriented at the moment, was having trouble finding the old Lara. Probably it would be better for the baby to be with someone she recognised as well as a strange grandma.
It was a relief when Ross rapped on her kitchen window and held up five fingers. Lara rushed round checking that all the windows were closed and the patio doors locked before grabbing her jacket.
She was looking forward to checking out the antiques centre and making a start on understanding current prices of old china and small silver items. It’d be good to have something else to occupy her thoughts.
Just as she was leaving the house her phone rang. She nearly didn’t answer it, but it might be the police. She saw Ross waiting outside and held up the phone as she put it to her ear.
‘Lara? Donald Metcalf here.’
‘Oh, hi.’ Thank goodness she’d answered it. She waited, hardly able to breathe, so desperate was she for news, any news.
‘Just thought you’d like to know. We’re pretty certain we’ve traced your accountant to a cross-Channel ferry. Bit of luck that a colleague was checking something else out and happened to recognise Crichton on the CCTV footage. We’ve checked out vehicle registrations for that crossing and he wasn’t listed as owning any of them. And he certainly didn’t travel under his own name. We have a list of passport holders, but it’ll take a while to check them all out.’
‘Pity.’
‘Unfortunately, we don’t know where he went in Europe after that, though it’s most likely he went to Paris first. It’s such a hub for rail travel. We didn’t see any sign of his wife, though, and she wasn’t at the London office that day, either.’
‘Thanks for telling me, anyway. I appreciate that.’
‘I’ll always keep you informed, Lara. We do understand what this sort of theft means to the victims. It strikes people very hard to have a lifetime’s hard work wiped out. We’re doing our best for you, I promise.’
To her annoyance, she was so close to tears she gulped loudly enough for him to have heard, but he didn’t comment, thank goodness.
‘I’ll get back to you if we find anything else out. It’s a good sign that we’ve got something to start from, gives us a better chance of finding him.’
‘Just one thing, Donald. You said Sandra wasn’t on the ferry. Look, she had shoulder-length brown hair and if I were her, I’d probably have changed the style completely. Try blonde or red hair and a short style.’
‘We’ve only got some CCTV from the office block with her on it, brown hair and all, and there were no photos of either of them at their home, so she’s going to be harder to trace. It’s a bit of a pain how women can change their hairstyles and colours so easily and nobody blinks an eye. Look, you’ll know what she looks like better than we do if she was his receptionist. What sort of clothes does she wear?’
�
��She always wore classic, understated outfits when she was in the office. Mousy-looking, I thought. Maybe you should look out for her to be wearing a lot of bling and fashionable clothes.’
‘Worth a try. Let me know if you have any more thoughts about it, anything at all.’
As the call ended she wondered if he thought her a fool for trying to teach him his job. Of course they’d figure that Sandra would have changed her appearance. Only they had no real photos of her to work from.
Actually, he’d sounded as if he meant it when he said she’d been useful.
She sighed. She was clinging to every shred of hope but she had to face the fact that she would probably not get her money back, even if they caught John.
Damn him and all thieves like him! They stole more than just money.
Donald put the phone down and shared what Ms Perryman had told him with a female colleague.
‘Worth bearing in mind, since she’s seen the woman in the flesh. We should run any photos of possibilities that we collect from CCTV past Ms Perryman.’ She looked at him. ‘What’s wrong, Don?’
He thumped one clenched fist down on his desk. ‘The poor woman was holding back sobs. I heard her gulp a couple of times. I hate this sort of crime.’
‘I hate terrorism and murder a lot more, but I know what you mean. This is a particularly unkind type of theft because it mainly hits older, more vulnerable people, decent folk who’ve worked hard and been frugal.’
Chapter Fourteen
Lara got into the car and let out her breath in a long, slow sigh as Ross drove her out of Marlbury and into the beautiful Wiltshire countryside. Today she glanced only briefly at the old houses with their tall gables that they passed occasionally. She was more concerned to bring Ross up to date on what Donald had told her about John Crichton.
‘Well, it’s something at least that they’ve found out he’s left England,’ he said when she’d finished her tale.
‘Yes.’ Then she remembered the figure she’d seen last night and told him about that as well.
