by Anna Jacobs
‘Don’t even try. Just be yourself. Sometimes it’s life and how people behave that make me laugh, not silly and usually predictable jokes. Now, let’s go and sit down to dinner. You can start by telling me how you met your first husband and nudged him into marrying you.’
Why not? She had very little to lose, couldn’t see Edward as a potential husband anyway, because he was far too clever for her. But it’d be nice to have him as a friend. She didn’t really have any close friends and sometimes wished she had.
‘Well …’
Just after Freda had served dessert, which included a dish of berries without cream for the guest, Edward’s phone rang. He had it on the table beside him so was able to answer it immediately.
He did more listening than speaking, but ended up saying, ‘Yes, I can do that. I’m sorry it’s come to this, John. I’ve enjoyed our friendship.’
He put the phone down and stared at it so sadly for a moment or two that Nonie Jayne couldn’t help asking, ‘Bad news?’
‘I’m afraid so. That was the friend I told you about and he’s definitely dying. He needs my help about some unfinished business. Will you excuse me for a while, my dear? When you’ve finished your meal, please wait for me in the sitting room. It’ll only take me an hour or so to get things started.’
And he was gone without pausing for her answer.
Nonie Jayne ate a few berries for their anti-oxidant content. So good for the skin. Then she picked up her fizzy water and wandered into the next room, taking her time to stroll round it and study the beautiful things there, including looking at the makers’ marks underneath the ornaments. The paintings all seemed to be originals.
There wasn’t a clutter of things like her ex had had in that stupid old house, but each object was displayed elegantly to give the maximum pleasure.
She loved the room. Edward had exquisite taste.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Donald picked up the phone and whistled softly as he looked at the caller ID. ‘Long time since you’ve called this number, Edward. I thought you’d retired.’
‘Semi-retired. I’ve done odd jobs for certain people here and there over the past few years. Now, please listen carefully, my friend, because this is very important to me. I’m guessing that it’ll be important to you as well, but you won’t have time to check my facts if you want to be sure of catching your man, so you’ll have to trust me. It’ll need very speedy action.’
‘Go on.’
‘You’re looking for John Crichton, I gather.’
‘Yes. You have news of him?’
‘Better than that. I have a message from him for you. This is what he wants you to do …’
There was dead silence when he’d finished explaining.
‘Are you sure? I can’t understand why he’d do this.’
‘He’s found out that he’s got heart problems and is dying, plus he’s been betrayed by the woman he loved.’
‘You’re quite sure this isn’t a farrago of lies to divert our attention.’
‘I’m utterly certain. I’ve known him since we met at university. I’d stake my life on the truth of it. John went astray for a while and that upset me greatly, but he’s come back into the good guys’ fold – as much as he can, given the circumstances.’
Donald whistled softly. ‘Then it’s a gift from the gods.’
‘A gift from John, rather. Let’s say he’s settling certain debts before he leaves the stage. Can you sort it out for him?’
‘Can I ever! We’ll have over a day to arrange it, after all.’
‘I’ll tell him you’ve agreed.’
‘It might help if you gave us his phone number, Edward.’
‘No. Sorry, but I’ve given him my word that I’ll allow him to do this the way he wants.’
A few moments of silence, then, ‘Very well. I’ll get on to it straight away.’
‘Um. One more thing. I’d be grateful if you let me know how it works out … afterwards. As soon as you can after it happens, anyway. That’s all the payment I shall need. He used to be a good friend, close as a brother.’
‘Yes, of course.’
Edward ended the call, then walked slowly and heavily back into the sitting room.
She took one look at him and asked gently, ‘More bad news?’
‘Same bad news, next stage confirmed. Look, I’ve enjoyed your company tonight, Nonie Jayne, but I think I’d like to go to bed now. And I’ll not be available for most of tomorrow. Would you like to go shopping?’
‘I’m saving my money at the moment.’
‘I’ll leave you something to spend, to make up for being such a bad host. I do want you to stay.’
She looked at him, then walked across to stand on tiptoe and kiss his cheek. ‘Thank you. I’d like to stay. I hope you get better news tomorrow.’
‘Yes, well, that’s a nice thought, my dear, but not possible.’
He watched her go, heard her bedroom door close, then poured himself a large cognac and raised the glass to his friend before taking a sip.
He wondered how John was feeling tonight, hoped that whatever had been arranged happened quickly.
When John got up on the morning they were leaving for Paris, he found it a struggle to appear anything like normal. He didn’t fool Sandra, of course. He shouldn’t even have tried.
‘Are you well enough to fly?’ she asked, watching as he tried to force down a few bites of croissant.
‘I’m not looking forward to it, but I don’t think my health will improve till we get to our destination, so I don’t want to cancel.’
‘You’re probably right. How about I book you a wheelchair for getting you across the airports?’
‘Why didn’t I think of that? Good idea.’
‘It’s fortunate that we can fly straight to Charles de Gaulle Airport from here and then on to Buenos Aires.’
‘Yes, isn’t it?’
John was grateful for the wheelchair, couldn’t have managed without it.
Once they’d taken their seats on the first plane, he leant back and closed his eyes. After a few moments he realised she was speaking to him.
‘Are you all right, dear?’
He forced a smile – well, as near to a smile as he could manage. ‘Yes. Don’t fuss, Sandra. I’m conserving my energy.’
He closed his eyes for the rest of the short flight to avoid having to chat to her, terrified that he’d give something away.
He shuddered as he was wheeled across Charles de Gaulle Airport. He’d never liked places like this. It was so crowded and voices echoed round them in so many different languages and accents that it made his head spin.
It seemed an appropriate sort of place for today’s events to play out, though. He was feeling increasingly detached from his surroundings in one sense.
And from her.
They were directed to a landing gate right at the end of one concourse, which made people around him grumble that planes to South America didn’t usually set off from here.
‘Sorry, sir, we had an emergency elsewhere,’ an official told him.
‘This is a long walk,’ Sandra muttered. ‘Are you sure you’re all right to continue, John?’
‘Yes.’
‘I could ask the attendant to—’
‘Just leave it. I’m fine. He doesn’t understand much English anyway.’
Indeed, the man pushing the wheelchair had only responded in monosyllables and seemed in a dour mood. People like him were usually more helpful, hoping for a tip.
Oh, what did it matter? Just get it over, John thought to himself. Just get it over and done with.
When they reached the check-in point, he thought there seemed to be more staff in attendance than usual and several gendarmes were standing by, but none of them seemed to be looking at them.
Had his friend not succeeded in passing on the information? If he hadn’t, John didn’t know what he’d do about the situation.
The attendant pushed his wheelchair
to a shorter queue of other people needing assistance at the far end and started chatting to an official in some language John didn’t recognise.
Slowly they edged towards the head of the queue, where people turned to one side and went behind a partition. For the first time they caught a glimpse of what they were queuing to do. Not just to get on to the plane.
Thank you, Edward! he thought.
He heard Sandra gasp behind him and move closer. She gripped his shoulder tightly and bent down to whisper, ‘It’s one of the new facial recognition systems! I didn’t think there were any in operation for this route. Quick! Pretend to be taken ill. We’ll have to find another way to get there. We’ll probably be on record, so we can’t risk doing this.’
He grabbed her hand and tried to keep her from pulling away. ‘We destroyed all the photos. We can’t be on their records.’
‘I’m not risking it.’ She raised her voice to a shout and clutched her stomach. ‘I feel bad! I’m going to be sick. Where’s the nearest restroom?’
John wasn’t strong enough to keep hold of her and she pulled away from him. He watched her start pushing her way towards the exit, but she had only taken a couple of steps when another official moved forward to intercept her.
People were staring at them. Let them stare. He didn’t care about anything, except making sure she didn’t escape.
‘Please, madame, follow your husband.’
To John’s relief, the official was strong enough to stop her getting away and she soon stopped struggling.
The attendant had pushed John towards the facial recognition equipment by now and there a woman took over, explaining how to look at the machine.
He did as they asked, didn’t care any more, could hear Sandra still making a fuss nearby.
As he stared at the screen, the equipment suddenly started making a harsh beeping noise and he found he now had two armed men standing by him.
‘Monsieur Crichton, is it not?’ one asked.
‘Yes.’ He turned to point towards Sandra. ‘And that’s my wife. Don’t – let her – get away.’
The last thing he was aware of was her yelling, ‘Damn you, John Crichton!’
He was, indeed, damned.
Then it seemed as if everything in his body was sagging, crumbling, and the world around him was fading.
He hoped he had done something towards atoning for his sins, he really did.
Then a huge wave of blackness swallowed him and he gave himself up to it gladly.
On the morning of the day of reckoning for his friend, Edward couldn’t settle. He had breakfast with Nonie Jayne, who didn’t bother him with empty chatter. He hadn’t expected her to be this sensitive. She’d surprised him a few times. He liked her more now she’d stopped pretending, far more than he’d expected to.
‘Thank you for a peaceful meal, my dear,’ he said.
‘I can see how sad you are, Edward. You’ll tell me if there’s anything I can do to help?’
‘I will. But the next act of this farce is out of my hands, I’m afraid.’ He glanced involuntarily at the clock.
‘It’s happening today?’
‘Yes. All I can do is wait for news. Now, let’s talk about something more cheerful. Did you enjoy the shopping yesterday? I forgot to ask you.’
‘I enjoyed walking round the shops, but I didn’t buy anything apart from a couple of magazines. Here.’ She held out the envelope containing the money.
‘Keep it.’
‘You don’t need to buy me, Edward. I value your friendship more than your money.’ She pushed the envelope into his hands.
‘I think we might be on our way towards becoming good friends.’ He put the envelope into his pocket and pushed his chair back. ‘Nothing will happen until later. What would you like to do in the meantime?’
‘I can sit and read, here or in my room, whichever you’d prefer. You don’t need to entertain me.’
‘I have some business to sort out this morning. It’d be good if you joined me for lunch, then sat with me this afternoon. Will you do that? I’ll read the newspaper and you can read or watch TV or do whatever else you like. Several of today’s newspapers will be around, if you want to read them. Just ask Freda.’
She smiled. ‘I’ll watch TV this morning in my room, then sit with you and read this afternoon. As long as you don’t make snide remarks about what I’m reading.’
‘Oh? What do you read?’
She gazed at him defiantly. ‘Romances. I like the happy endings.’
‘Not had much romance in your own life, eh, Nonie Jayne?’
‘No.’
‘Well, I’ll do my best not to give you an unhappy time here and you can read whatever you like in front of me. I prefer fantasy novels myself. Imaginary planets, nothing to do with this world. I won’t laugh at your books if you don’t laugh at mine.’
She held out her hand and he clasped it in his for a minute. ‘It’s a deal.’
The call he’d been waiting for didn’t come through until that evening. Edward took a deep breath and picked his personal phone up when it rang.
‘Donald Metcalf here.’
‘Just a minute. I’ll go into the next room.’ He walked into his home office. ‘Right. You can talk freely now.’
‘Your friend was stopped at Charles de Gaulle Airport this morning, thanks to the information you gave us. His wife was with him and was also stopped.’
‘Good. It’s what he wanted. How is he?’
One of those short silences that said there was difficult news to come. ‘Just tell me, Donald.’
‘I’m afraid Crichton died at the scene. He had a heart attack. There was no struggle of any sort; it just happened, and quickly, too.’
‘Better that way. He was expecting it to happen soon.’
When the call ended, Edward sat staring into space for a long time. There were still things to be done, because John had made his wishes very clear. But not till tomorrow.
It took Edward a few minutes to pull himself together, then he went back to join Nonie Jayne.
She looked across at him, her eyes assessing.
‘Do you ever drink?’ he asked.
‘Sometimes. But not more than half a glass.’
‘Join me in some fine old cognac and we’ll drink to my friend, who died today.’
‘Oh. I’m sorry.’
‘It was better that way, given the circumstances, but it still hurts to lose him. I’ve known him since we were schoolboys together. Let’s sit on the couch. I need to hold your hand.’
He didn’t bother with the cognac, after all, because he needed her human warmth more. He sat down next to her and put one arm round her shoulders.
She put her nearest hand into his.
‘You feel young and full of life.’
‘You’re not young, but you seem full of life too, Edward.’
‘Not tonight. And I have a rather difficult job to do tomorrow for my friend. Will you come with me? I need to do this in person.’
‘If that’s what you want.’
‘I do. Very much.’ He looked at her. ‘Going to stay around here for a while?’
She took a moment to answer, studying his face, then nodded. ‘If I’m invited, I’d love to. I enjoy your company, Edward. And I’m not just saying that. I don’t have to pretend with you, which is so rare.’
‘Well, one good thing came out of all this, then. I’d been feeling a bit lonely. And I’m too old to pretend.’
He didn’t speak for a while, just sat and cuddled her.
It helped, he thought. A little. It was always hard to lose someone.
And he couldn’t help thinking he might find her useful if he did any more of these little fact-finding jobs for the government. Who’d suspect an old fool with a younger woman on his arm from being anything but what he appeared?
In the meantime, she was there for him, and whatever happened between them in the future, he was grateful for that today.
Chapter T
wenty-Six
When he eventually judged it a suitable time to go into the hotel and ask to see Ms Larson, Gil was furious to be told that she had checked out.
‘When?’
‘I’m afraid I can’t give you any details, sir.’
He went into the bar and was told it was only open to residents, so returned to his car, feeling ravenously hungry now.
When a security guy stopped for the second time to study his vehicle and note down the number, he decided it’d be prudent to leave the car park. Good thing this vehicle wasn’t registered to him. He grinned. Wouldn’t the owner be surprised when she returned from her holidays to find it missing?
There was a small lake nearby. He’d go to the nearest village and buy something to eat, then park there and stay till dark.
He couldn’t decide whether Nonie Jayne was still at the hotel, in hiding, and the man at the desk was lying for her or whether she’d got away somehow. Stupid bitch!
He’d have to give up on her, dammit, but one thing he was not giving up on was getting hold of something he could sell. After all, he had his special tools with him. If only the owner of that end house would just go out, it should be a piece of cake to break in and snatch a few things. Those silver pieces he’d seen through the window ought to bring in enough to tide him over for a while.
He couldn’t see half as much of what was going on in that new development near the hotel from the car park of Penny Lake – stupid name for a lake – so he went to sit on a bench which had a better view. As it was starting to get dark, he saw there was no one nearby and used his binoculars a few times to check the houses.
‘Aha!’ His luck had changed. The third time he checked, he was just in time to see the car that had been parked outside the end house pulling out. He hadn’t been able to see it till it moved. It drove across towards the hotel but he couldn’t see where it went then from where he was sitting. Out of the development, he hoped. He got up and ran towards his car for his tools.
