by Anna Jacobs
So he’d put himself out of his misery, one way or another.
Late that afternoon Sandra said she had to go out.
‘Oh? Where?’
‘To meet my contact, of course. He rang while you were asleep. With a bit of luck, he’ll have booked our flight and have the tickets ready, then we can start our new life.’
‘Paper tickets, remember. I want to see where we’re going.’ He didn’t trust electronic sign-ins.
‘Yes, I told him.’ She came to kiss his cheek and cuddle against him for a moment or two. He forced himself to put his arms round her. He didn’t want to, though. Now that he knew she didn’t care about him, only his money, he wished he could get rid of her this very minute.
He would have thrown her out, only he was determined to pay her back, if it was the last thing he ever did.
‘Poor darling. No wonder you’re getting cabin fever, stuck in this hotel.’
‘Not my favourite way of spending time, I must admit.’
‘Fingers and toes crossed that I bring back good news.’
He really did fall asleep as he waited for her to return. It annoyed him that he needed so many naps.
A lot of things annoyed him these days.
When she got back she had a triumphant expression on her face. She fished in her handbag and waved an envelope at him. ‘Ta-da!’
‘Is that what I think it is?’
‘See for yourself.’ She held the envelope away from his outstretched hand. ‘Just a minute. There’s something I have to explain. First, he didn’t want us to have an electronic book-in, either, because he’s going to dispose of the computer he used.’
‘Whatever.’
‘Secondly, there’s one snag about doing this quickly, John. It turned out we could either go economy class and travel non-stop or go business class and have a lot longer flight, because there’s at least one stop en route, sometimes two. My contact thought we’d be more noticeable in business class anyway: smaller group, more service offered on board and so on. They really fuss over you. Anyway, there weren’t any business class seats available for over a week, so because you were in such a hurry, he booked us economy class. Is that all right?’
‘I suppose so. How long is the non-stop flight?’
‘Only about fourteen hours.’
‘Not fun, but I can cope. When exactly do we fly out?’
‘Day after tomorrow. From Paris. We can fly to Paris early that morning. Easy-peasy.’
‘That’ll work. I’d rather leave early. I hate hanging round all day waiting for a late flight.’ He closed his eyes for a moment, mentally shrugging. What did it matter what sort of seats they booked? He might or might not get on that plane, still wasn’t sure how his plans would work out.
He usually fell asleep on planes anyway. He could put up with a little discomfort. It wasn’t as if he was a tall man.
When he opened his eyes again, she was looking at him anxiously. ‘It was the right choice, Sandra. You look after the actual tickets, but I’ll write down the travel times on this hotel notepad so that I don’t have to keep asking you about the details.’
‘All right. Tomorrow I’ll pack for you.’
‘No need. I’m only travelling light and I’ll be buying warm-weather clothes there, so I’m not taking everything with me. It won’t take me more than a few minutes to pack. Just write the times down.’
‘OK.’ She did that, then came to sit opposite him, leaning back in the chair. ‘I’m hungry now. Have you thought what to eat this evening? Do you want to go down to the hotel dining room or have room service?’
‘I’d prefer to eat here. Something light. I’m not particularly hungry.’
‘Shall I choose?’
‘Yes, please.’
They spent a quiet evening, allegedly watching a film on the TV, though John couldn’t have said what it was about and he knew he’d dozed off at one point.
He went to bed after it ended, praying that he could keep up the pretence of being a loving husband for long enough to get her where he wanted her.
His current plans were in a shorter time frame than he’d first expected because he felt … well, fragile was the only word for it. During last night’s tossing and turning, he’d fully taken on board that he didn’t have long to live now and accepted it.
Sandra would go out tomorrow, as she did every day, and then he’d email his final request to his friend. Shouldn’t be too hard for Edward to make these last arrangements. He’d already agreed to suss things out.
Edward had said the other arrangements would work as John wanted, since they’d be flying out from Paris. The authorities would be only too happy to cooperate.
Of course they would. The most unhappy person would be Sandra. John didn’t care about her now.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Lara and Ross spent another quietly busy day. He left her working in her own house, finalising the website for selling his inherited ornaments. She’d started entering stock and had showed him how it appeared on the screen. She had all sorts of talents, seemed to think this was easy stuff.
They left their front and back doors open so that they could nip from one house to the other easily as needed, to confer about some of the special items, but he mostly stayed in his own place. His main job today was washing and dusting the various items as necessary, then photographing them and emailing the photos to her. He knew he was a capable photographer but her praise about the results pleased him greatly.
When she hadn’t come next door for food by one o’clock, however, he took it upon himself to interrupt her. ‘I insist you take a break now, Lara, and join me in a simple meal. I’ve only got salad, cheese and crispbreads, but it’s a rather good vintage cheddar.’
She smiled and stretched. ‘Sorry. I don’t always remember to eat when I’m busy.’
‘Forgetting to eat is something I never used to do. I enjoyed my food too much. There was a time, though, just after Nonie Jayne and I broke up, when I didn’t have much appetite at all and I lost quite a bit of weight.’
‘Yet you’re the one who reminded me to eat today.’
He stared at her. ‘Yes, I did, didn’t I? And I remembered because I was hungry. You know what, I’ve suddenly realised that I’m starting to enjoy my food again.’
‘There you are! It has to be a sign of you getting better.’
He beamed at her and plonked a kiss on her cheek. ‘You’re not only a pleasure to be with, you’re good for my morale, Lara.’
‘Well, you’re good for me, too.’
When he kissed her properly, she welcomed it, kissing him back with enthusiasm, then they went next door hand in hand, smiling.
After they’d finished eating, she said, ‘Let’s sit down in your lovely comfortable chairs for a few minutes and chat.’
‘Good idea. These are great chairs, aren’t they?’ He snuggled down and she followed suit.
Lara was woken half an hour later by the vibration of her phone, which was still attached to her belt. She found a message from a friend, giving some information she’d asked for: the name of the doctor who’d treated Rowena’s ME differently and successfully. Not cheap but worth it! the message ended.
She sat staring at the words. Ross didn’t seem to be short of money, but would he give this a try? She hoped so. Rowena was no one’s fool and if she recommended this doctor, Lara was sure he wouldn’t be ‘selling snake oil’, as Ross’s doctor had apparently said about all alternative ways of treating ME.
She’d have to wait for the right moment to broach this to Ross and try to persuade him to have a go. What had he got to lose, after all? The treatment was very gentle and carefully worked out.
She looked sideways but he hadn’t stirred, so she tiptoed out and went back to work. A nap was unusual for her, but it seemed to have re-energised her today.
As she was walking back into her own house, however, she shivered suddenly, feeling as if someone was staring at her. She stopped and spun ro
und, scanning the grounds of the hotel and the other buildings in the village.
Two men were working on a detached house that was nearly finished, but they weren’t looking in her direction. They were holding an animated conversation as they went in and out, and were carrying what looked like equipment for electrical wiring and things like plug sockets.
She couldn’t see anyone else nearby, though there were a few cars in the hotel car park, as usual.
Ah, she was just imagining things, she told herself and continued into her house. She tried to dismiss what she’d felt, but didn’t manage that. You could sometimes tell when you were being watched and just let anyone try to tell her different. She’d definitely had that shivery spine feeling today.
She started work but found it hard to concentrate. Why would anyone be keeping watch on them? Was it to do with the prowler? Hadn’t it been enough to chase him away? Was he still planning a burglary?
Well, if anyone tried to steal the few things she had left, she’d use the methods she’d been taught in a self-defence course. She’d thought it a waste of time, but she’d proved to be quite good at it. Now, with so few people nearby, the memory of it gave her more confidence.
Ross joined her a couple of hours later as she was about to make a cup of tea. He paused to look over his shoulder before coming into the house and joining her in the kitchen. ‘I timed that well, didn’t I? You’re obviously about to take a break. I was going to invite you round for a coffee.’
‘I’ll make you one, though it won’t be fancy.’ She stopped with the spoon in mid-air because he was peering out of the window now, still looking towards the hotel car park.
‘What’s the matter, Ross?’
‘I know it sounds silly but I felt as though someone was watching me.’
‘Wow! I had exactly the same feeling as I walked across, only I couldn’t see anyone.’
‘Neither can I. I think we’d better be very careful indeed for the next night or two, though. Will you be all right this afternoon if I nip out and buy some security equipment? I want to be able to make a very loud noise if anyone tries to break into the houses. And it wouldn’t hurt to have a couple of powerful torches to hand.’
‘I’ll be fine, Ross, but make sure you lock up your house properly before you go.’ She opened the jar of coffee but he held one hand over his mug.
‘Hold that coffee till I get back. I’ll only be half an hour at most.’
‘All right.’ She made herself a cup of drinking chocolate, checked again that both front and back doors were locked, and went back to work.
Over an hour later, she nipped downstairs again to put the kettle on for Ross, wondering what was keeping him.
While she was getting the milk out of the fridge, her phone rang. She looked at the caller ID and it was Donald Metcalf, so she answered it immediately. She never knew whether to be pleased or annoyed by his phone calls, which seemed mainly to report a lack of progress.
‘Hi, Lara. Have you a minute?’
‘Yes, Donald.’
‘I wondered if you knew anything about Sandra, your ex-financial adviser’s wife?’
‘Not really, no. I only ever met her at the office and she didn’t start there till two – or was it three? – years ago. She was always pleasant enough, but not chatty. Why do you ask?’
‘We’ve been trying to trace her – you know, previous job, family history, education and so on. Only we can’t find any verifiable records.’
‘But she must have had the necessary paperwork to get married to John!’
‘She had some paperwork, but when you look more closely, the details appear to have been generated out of nowhere.’
‘Good heavens! And she appeared so friendly and – and mumsy.’
‘Mumsy?’
‘Yes, like everyone’s favourite aunt. Sorry. It’s one of my grandma’s words.’
‘Well, we can’t even find the exact date at which she started working for Crichton, because they destroyed their records before they left.’
‘Ah. I may be able to help you there. I’m pretty obsessive about keeping a paper log of what I do. I even keep the scribbled-down names of the people I’ve dealt with on the phone.’
‘Could you check that now, do you think, and get back to me as soon as possible?’
‘Yes, of course. I have a deep personal interest in tracking those two down.’
‘I bet you do. So do we. I think this information may lead us to something.’
‘I sincerely hope so. I’ll text the info to you. Shouldn’t take me long.’
She went upstairs to the room she was using to store things she didn’t need at this stage and checked her business diaries from previous years. She’d been trying to persuade herself to throw them away and was glad now that she hadn’t. It just went to show you never knew what you’d need.
It took her only a few minutes to find the date Sandra had first appeared as the secretary at Crichton’s place of business and she sent it to Donald immediately.
After that, she didn’t think about why he might want it because she was concentrating on the website. She was going to activate some of it tonight, to see how it went. She’d get Ross to pretend to be a customer for her and ‘buy’ an item.
When Nonie Jayne arrived at Edward’s house, the housekeeper had studied her thoroughly, then nodded and said, ‘Do call me Freda.’
Mrs Bryant was a stern-looking woman, slightly overweight but tending towards muscular rather than fat, and somehow she radiated power, just as Edward did. Strange, that. It felt like calling the Queen of England ‘Lizzie’ to call this woman by her first name, but the invitation felt like a command.
The driver carried in the luggage and deposited it in a luxurious bedroom with an en suite shower room.
Freda saw him out, then came to find her employer’s guest again. ‘Now, how about something to eat? Edward won’t be back for a while, so it’ll just be you.’ Another stare, then, ‘I’d guess you watch your weight carefully. You’d better tell me exactly what sort of meals you want.’
‘You mean I can choose?’ People usually insisted on piling her plate high.
A near smile creased Freda’s face for a moment. ‘Of course you can. Easiest way. Save me wasting time on preparing food that you’re just going to stir around the plate and then I’d have to throw it away. I can’t abide waste.’
‘I’m not a big eater, I must admit.’
They came to an agreement about salads, grilled fish or chicken, and berries or other low-calorie fruit for dessert, then Freda asked if she wanted to rest after such a disturbed night.
‘What time will Edward be coming back today?’
‘I never know, but I’d guess not till much later, perhaps not at all. He’s dealing with some rather important business for a friend, so you might as well have a rest, sit and watch TV or go out for a walk. I’ll be here all day to let you in again.’
‘I think I’d rather stay here till I’m sure it’s safe. I’ll have a lie-down, though. I didn’t sleep last night. But I’d be grateful if you’d let me know when Edward returns.’
‘I can do that.’ She indicated an intercom. ‘Just press that red button if you want to speak to me or you need anything.’
Nonie Jayne got out her toiletries and a couple of outfits, which she hung in the wardrobe so they’d lose their creases, but as she didn’t know what was likely to happen to her till she’d spoken to Edward, she left the unpacking at that.
She took her time about studying herself in the mirror. The tiredness showed. ‘Well, Nonie Jayne, what have you got yourself into now?’
With a shrug she lay down and let herself rest. You always looked better when you were relaxed. And she wanted to look her best tonight.
Unusually for her, she fell asleep and didn’t wake up until the intercom sounded. ‘Hello.’
‘Edward’s just phoned. He’ll be back shortly and see you for dinner at six.’
‘Fine. Thanks for let
ting me know.’
She went to take a leisurely bath, then got ready to dazzle him.
She hoped she was doing the right thing.
Edward was rather unpredictable compared to most men she’d met. She couldn’t work out whether that was good or bad.
He was waiting for her in the beautiful sitting room, dressed casually but in clothes that must have cost a fortune.
‘Thank you for saving me, Edward.’
‘My pleasure. I’m only going to ask one thing of you in return.’
She tensed up. Oh no! Had she misjudged him?
‘I want you always to tell me the truth, whether it’s about your past life or about everything else.’ He grinned. ‘The whole truth. I’m a man who enjoys such tales, and I don’t enjoy boring or predictable people. Nor am I burdened by useless morals or rules for living. If I have any rule at all, it’s to hurt no one, unless they try to hurt me first or they deserve punishing.’
She stared at him, head on one side, letting his words sink in. ‘You mean that, don’t you?’
‘I always mean what I say when talking to friends, Nonie Jayne. Always. And I’m hoping you and I will become good friends.’
She abandoned the attempt to speak elegantly and let the traces of her original accent show. ‘Well, it’ll be a relief to stop pretending, I must say.’
‘Attagirl! Is that how you speak naturally? Good. I like it better.’
‘I’m glad.’
‘There’s just one other thing before we start chatting: a friend of mine is in trouble and needs help so if I get a phone call, I’ll need to answer it immediately. He doesn’t have long to live, so it’ll probably be the last thing he asks of me.’
‘Do you always help people?’
‘Only when they’re close friends or when I find them amusing.’
She frowned. ‘I’d guess that means you find me amusing.’
‘I’m afraid I do. In a nice way.’
She risked telling him the truth. ‘I don’t always understand why people laugh at me and I haven’t got a good sense of humour, so I don’t know if I can amuse you on purpose.’
