Make You Sorry

by Christine Rae-Jones

  Samantha agreed before she ended the call although Dorothy suspected it wouldn’t happen. Sometimes, Samantha said yes, just to avoid an argument.

  Chapter 10

  Friday 7th February

  At half past eleven, Nick Morgan sent his wife the postcode of Gullhaven Park for her satnav describing it as “a late availability holiday let.” He programmed the same information into his phone and set off to find a taxi to take him back to his car, which he hoped was still in the pub car park. That had been a stroke of luck. If he’d left it at Cliffside House, it would have been included as part of the crime scene and who knows when he would have got it back.

  The taxi driver, an overweight white man in his sixties was chatty and to Morgan’s dismay, refused to take the hint to be quiet. He took out his phone and busied himself with the task of sending texts and emails, but the verbal assault was relentless. He heaved a sigh of relief when they got to the pub and he was able to surround himself with the silent security of his white Volvo hatchback. It was a short drive to Cliffside House and he parked on the other side of the road to watch the activities of the crime scene.

  There was a PCSO standing with a clipboard on the drive. Beside him, a white bin overflowed with the coveralls, gloves and overshoes discarded by investigators who had left the scene. The officer looked cold, tired and bored. Beyond him, Cliffside’s front door was open and above it, in the upstairs bay window, Morgan saw the bright light of the investigators’ lamps. He wondered if the body was still in situ. It felt odd to be present at, but excluded from, a crime scene.

  A woman appeared from the side of the house. She was talking on her phone whilst trying to strip off her protective clothing. Morgan watched her get increasingly frustrated before she handed her phone to the officer and stepped out of the white suit – right leg, left leg. She was still wearing gloves, and she rested her fingers on the garden wall for support. Once all the items had been disposed of, she put out her hand for the return of the phone and smiled her thanks. When she turned towards him, Morgan could see that she was Asian, possibly Indian, although from this distance, he couldn’t be sure. He estimated that she was about the same age as him; five feet five or six and medium build. She was wearing a navy trouser suit and he saw a V-shape of something yellow at her neck. Was this DI Patel, he wondered? He started the Volvo engine and checked the navigation app on his phone. With Friday traffic, it would be dark by the time his family arrived and he was going to be in enough trouble without dragging them across acres of mud trying to find which door fitted the keys. He planned to familiarise himself with the Gullhaven Park Estate before they got there.

  Arriving at the site reception, he met the woman who had taken his booking on the phone. She had red hair, green eyes and a ready smile. Her voice was husky with a hint of a West Country accent. ‘I’m Maisie,’ she said. ‘Last minute plans for half term is it?’

  His smile was sardonic. ‘You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.’

  ‘Maybe not, but you look like you could persuade me, if you tried.’ Both her eye contact and smile were steady as she held out two sets of keys and it occurred to him that she might be flirting. There had been a significant absence of flirting in the Morgan household for a long time and he felt his body respond. He ignored it. He was in enough trouble. Anyway, she must be at least fifteen years younger than him.

  Taking the keys, Morgan concentrated on the paper map secured to the desk with yellowing sticky tape. Maisie’s fuchsia-painted fingernail pointed at the reception building where the map was completely worn through to the wood underneath. His eyes followed the route down narrow roadways which passed blocks of colour, each representing an area of park homes.

  ‘Yours is A-20 in Lakeside sector. It’s secluded and quiet, although most of the estate is quiet this early in the year. The weather hasn’t helped us much. When it’s nicer, we get some hardy souls but not this year.’ She paused and looked up at him. ‘Please make sure you park in the designated space on the left of the sector only. It’s wet out there and if your car sinks, you might have to leave it there forever.’ She laughed that deep throaty laugh again and Morgan smiled politely. He didn’t feel much like laughing today.

  ‘Is there space for two cars? My wife will be arriving later with the children and the dog.’

  Maisie nodded. ‘She can park in the space for A-19. We usually only allow one car per home on the site, but we’re not busy. Wouldn’t want to cause a domestic... well, not over parking anyway.’ He thanked her and returned to his car. It was raining heavily now and he hoped Sam would be careful. On motorways, she was inclined to exceed the speed limit and drive too close to the vehicle in front. Everything that meant anything to him would be in that car.

  He tried to remember Maisie’s directions and started by turning right out of the reception car park. The roads around Gullhaven Park were narrow and edged by high hedges. There were a few signposts, but he made two wrong guesses before arriving at the Lakeside sector. Once there, he spotted A-20 and parked in the designated space. Approaching it, he saw how unlike a caravan the structure was. The glazed door was about three feet off the ground and the wooden steps up to it had sturdy handrails on either side. It opened into a wide living and dining area with a fitted kitchen along one wall. The room was bright, clean and modern and led into a short hallway with four doors leading off. The first was a double bedroom which wasn’t huge, and opposite, a room with twin beds. The next door led to a toilet and shower room with no window and a noisy extractor fan which came on when he pulled the light cord. Opening the last door, he was anticipating a room the size of a cupboard and the resulting argument which the twins would have over the sleeping arrangements. To his surprise, this room was the master bedroom, bright and spacious with an en-suite shower and a great view of the lake and woods.

  Everywhere was warm as Maisie had promised. The beds were made up and there were fluffy, blue bath and hand towels as well as tea towels and a tablecloth piled on the dining table.

  He looked at his phone. Still no message to say his family were on the way. He saw he had missed two calls from his mother-in-law and realised he must have left it in the car when he picked up the keys. Dotty would have to wait because he needed to find a supermarket.

  Chapter 11

  Friday 7th February

  Dave Spence stood in DCI Johnson’s office waiting for him to finish his phone conversation. When at last he put the phone down, Johnson held up a forefinger.

  ‘Give me a second to make a quick note,’ he said, scribbling on a pad. ‘Right then. Where are we with Cliffside House?’

  ‘When I went back to the scene, I went upstairs and I knew him straight away. It’s one of the advantages of being local,’ Spence could not resist the jibe. ‘I must have nicked him ten times over the years. It’s Carl Raynor.’

  ‘I don’t think I know him.’ said Johnson.

  ‘No? He’s one of our regular druggies. Pages of previous for possession and served time for possession with intent to supply. Latest offences are all shoplifting.’

  ‘How long does the pathologist think he’d been there?’

  Spence cringed. He had been so excited to recognise the body that he’d forgotten to ask Doctor Mackenzie about time of death. Sod it! Now he looked like a rookie. ‘The blood was still dripping at six this morning, sir. He can’t have been there long.’

  Johnson gave him a knowing look but let the omission pass. ‘We obviously can’t have DI Morgan on this case so DI Patel can pick it up when she gets back. You’ll need to write up the decision log so far. You can get her up to speed as soon as she arrives.’

  ‘She’s back, sir. I met her at the scene and handed over what I already had. She was pleased I’d been able to give her a name. I told her I’d find the next of kin for a formal identification.’

  ‘Good,’ said Johnson. ‘That’s good.’ He looked back down at the pile of papers on his desk. Spence cleared his throat. ‘Was there something else
, Spence?’

  ‘I wanted to ask if I could be assigned to the case, sir. As I said, I know the victim and DI Patel asked me if I would attend the postmortem.’

  Johnson took off his glasses and placed them on his desk with exaggerated care. ‘That’ll be down to DI Patel and DI Morgan to decide between themselves on Monday.’

  Spence was persistent. ‘It’s not often we have a murder in Gullhaven, and I think the experience would benefit me. I’d really like to be on this one, sir.’

  ‘Every case is important, Spence. Never forget that. DI Morgan is joining us at a bit of a quiet time but I’ve discussed the missing solicitor with him in case it turns out... well... not as we want it to turn out. I know it’s a CID case rather than MCU, but the media are all over it. DI Morgan has a lot of experience in handling them, so he’s a good fit. And we’ll see what else comes in over the weekend.’

  ‘Won’t CID feel that DI Morgan is trespassing on their territory, sir?’

  ‘With their caseload, I don’t foresee a problem.’

  Spence was smiling when he left the DCI’s office. He’d provided the breakthrough in a major case by identifying the body while Morgan was going to be bogged down in an enquiry into a woman who’d gone missing for the third or fourth time and who always reappeared. Welcome to Gullhaven, DI Morgan. Not so golden now, are you?

  Chapter 12

  Friday 7th February

  With rain battering on the roof and wind whistling round the walls of A-20, Morgan only just heard the alert of a text from Sam to say they had stopped for petrol and were about five miles away. He replied to tell her to come through the estate gates and that he would meet them in the reception car park.

  He looked around, mentally crossing his fingers that everything would meet with Sam’s approval. He’d stocked up on booze, music and films as well as a selection of pizzas, garlic bread, olives and crisps. It wasn’t the restaurant meal they had planned for their first night at the coast, but it was better than queuing for a takeaway in the rain. He had also bought a packet of cigarettes which he’d put in a drawer in their bedroom. He knew that Sam still turned to her old vice for comfort, even though she thought it was her secret. He didn’t approve, but it wasn’t worth picking a fight over. Satisfied that he had done everything he could, he grabbed his keys and left.

  The windows of Nick’s car were misted over by the time he saw Sam’s headlights appear in his rear view mirror. She parked next to him, and he got out and walked round to her window as she opened it an inch.

  ‘I’m not getting out,’ she said.

  ‘Do you mean here, or do you mean ever?’

  ‘I’m tired Nick, and we’re hungry. Can we just get to where we’re staying?’ She closed the window again to prevent further conversation and Nick retreated to his car.

  They drove slowly in the rain, his windscreen wipers squeaking across the glass at double speed and Sam following. When he parked, she pulled into the space beside him. Morgan retrieved the umbrella he had found in the kitchen, unfurled it, and ran back to Sam’s car. Rain was bouncing off the wooden steps and a large puddle had formed at the bottom of them. There was a distant rumble of thunder.

  ‘Wait here please, kids. I’ll get you all in one by one. Mum’s first.’

  Nick held out his arms to carry Sam into the home, but she shook her head and took the umbrella. He went with her and repeated the process for Victoria and then Alexander who carried Truffles in his arms. There were three more trips for luggage, and dog paraphernalia and when he had completed the last, he shut the door, braced himself, and faced her.

  ‘Best I could do at short notice,’ he said.

  ‘Well, it’s hardly The Riverview Hotel and Spa, is it?’

  ‘I think it’s cool,’ said Victoria, ‘And I want the double bed.’

  Everyone looked at her brother who held up his hands in resignation.

  ‘Whatever,’ he said, and Morgan thought he looked pleased. He must have preferred the room with the twin beds.

  After years of living in south London the Morgan family were accustomed to the constant hum of traffic, planes and neighbourhood activity. That evening, the silence of the lake and woods, broken only by noise of the storm, felt oppressive. The twins lifted their heads from their phones barely long enough to select more pizza or diet cola. Nick assumed they were texting friends back in London saying how much they were missing them and bemoaning their parents’ choice to bring them to “planet wherever.” He was glad there was enough of a WiFi signal to keep them occupied.

  The open plan living area discouraged any mention of the body at Cliffside House until the twins had gone to bed. He and Sam washed up and sat on the brown corduroy sofa, each with a replenished glass of red wine.

  ‘Are you going to tell me what happened?’ she said.

  ‘I don’t know what happened. The drive down was crap and I was tired and pissed off when I got here. I went to the pub at the end of the cliffs, had a meal and a few beers. I left the car, walked back, slept on the sofa. And you know the rest. He was upstairs, on his back, in the big bedroom. I’d never seen him before and all I remember is that he was young, male, skinny and dead. I don’t know what else I can tell you.’

  She sipped her wine before continuing. ‘What are we going to tell the kids?’

  ‘Well, we’re not going to be able to keep it a secret, that’s for certain. If it’s a murder, and I don’t see how it can be anything else, it’ll be all over social media by now, and headlines in the local news tomorrow. It’ll go on for days too. It’s not like London here. They haven’t had a murder since forever ago.’

  ‘You really think it’s a murder? Sam asked.

  ‘From what I could see, he was bleeding from his back. That injury’s not likely to be self inflicted, is it?’ He took a sip of wine. ‘If he was stabbed in the back, we should arrest your mother. She’s good at that.’

  Samantha would not normally let a negative comment about her mother pass without some form of rebuke but she was tired and the wine had mellowed her. ‘But, what are we going to tell the twins? In a week’s time, they’ll be starting at a new school where everyone is going to know that they live in a murder house. We’ll have coach loads of kids coming for tea so they can sneak into our bedroom to see where it happened. I don’t know if I can live like that.’

  Nick reached his arm along the top of the sofa and she stretched her neck backwards until her head lay on it. ‘For what it’s worth, I think Alex will be fine with it,’ he said. ‘He’ll have a bit of notoriety from day one at that school and we both know he’ll milk it. Vicky’s harder to predict. I’ll speak to her tomorrow.’ He leant forward and put his wine glass down. ‘I’ll nip out with Truffles for his last pee break, then why don’t we finish the bottle in bed?’

  ‘If you’re thinking of starting something, let me tell you, I’m way too tired.’

  He sighed. ‘Sam, I’m not starting anything. I’m finishing something: the wine. That’s all. I’ve had a hell of a day too so let’s draw a line and hope it all looks better in the morning. At least we know things can’t get any worse’

  Chapter 13

  Saturday 8th February

  Nick Morgan was woken next morning by Truffles whining at the door and he saw that they had all slept much later than usual. ‘No wonder he’s upset,’ he said to Sam, ‘he must have been crossing his legs for the last hour.’ He got up and dressed in yesterday’s clothes before remembering that they were really the clothes from the day before yesterday. He cautiously sniffed under his arms before going out into the hallway where Truffles greeted him eagerly.

  ‘Sorry, mate,’ he said as he clipped the lead to the dog’s collar. He made a mental note to find out how to change the address details for his microchip.

  They went out into bright sunshine and a biting cold wind blowing from the north. Nick changed his planned route to a shorter one. When he started to head back towards their home, Truffles followed without complaint. N
ick thought they must both be looking forward to breakfast.

  In the time they were out, Sam and the twins had got up, dressed, and were waiting. The aromas of coffee and toast were a welcome greeting and, having measured out the dog’s food, Nick was able to join them for a rare family breakfast.

  ‘Are we going to see grandma today?’ asked Victoria.

  ‘Oh, God,’ Nick put his knife down. ‘She rang me yesterday and it completely went out of my mind. I never got back to her. Sorry.’

  ‘Why would she ring you, Dad?’ asked Alexander. ‘Was it about the house? Do you need help at the house today? I’d rather help you than see her. Can I Mum?’

  Nick’s glance at Sam was met with a tiny nod. Alexander had presented them with the opportunity they needed to explain why the family did not have immediate access to Cliffside House.

  ‘Something happened at the house that you need to know about,’ said Nick. He recounted his discovery with as little detail and drama as possible. The twins listened with wide eyes and open mouths.

  ‘Cool,’ said Alexander when Nick had finished. ‘Will there be blood on the floor when we move in?’ Victoria squealed and grimaced. She brought clenched fists up to her mouth and closed her eyes.

  ‘Stop it, Alex,’ said Sam. ‘This lad has died and you need to show some respect.’ Having been brought up in the family funeral business, she believed that whoever they were, and however they had died, clients were to be shown solemnity and respect at all times.

  ‘We can’t live there now, can we?’ Victoria’s voice was pleading. ‘Can’t we just go back to London?’

  Alexander got up, went to his sister, and put his arms around her. ‘I’m here. Don’t be scared.’

  Sam and Nick exchanged surprised glances. They were accustomed to Alexander’s dismissive behaviour towards his younger twin so this was a revelation. Nick was moved and he cleared his throat before he spoke. ‘While you’re with grandma, I think I might take a drive past the house to see how the technicians are getting on. Then, why don’t we meet up and take Truffles for a walk along the beach?’ His suggestion was met with a nod and smile from Sam and excitement from the twins. ‘Okay. I’m going for a quick shower first.’ He stroked Truffles as he passed then shut the hall door behind him. As he stripped off his clothes, he thought about the missing solicitor. She was due to be married today. He hoped she turned up.