The Couple in the Photograph

by Valerie Keogh

  Wanting distraction, she looked for the book she was reading and remembered it was upstairs beside her bed. She thought about going up to get it but worry kept her pressed to the sofa. It wasn’t until she heard the hall clock chime the hour that she grunted in frustration and got up. She needed to be doing something. Then she slapped her hand to her brow. The trauma-scene clean-up specialists. She bet Nathan hadn’t rung them.

  The card the detective had given them with the names was on the coffee table. She picked it up. Three names. Had Nathan rung one of them? She tried his mobile but as before it went to voicemail; this time she left a message and followed it up with a text. RING ME. She hoped he’d see the capitals as a deliberate act to emphasise the urgency rather than an accident. When ten minutes passed without reply, in the hopes that he might answer a question, she quickly tapped out, did you ring the clean-up team and sat staring at the screen as she waited for a reply.

  When one didn’t come, Keri gritted her teeth and picked up the card. She’d have to ring all three to check he hadn’t already organised someone to call to the office. It was a frustrating few minutes. The first two hadn’t been requested to do the job and when the third company also denied being asked she was relieved to be reaching the end of this fiasco. ‘Fine, how soon can you do it?’

  ‘We have availability on Wednesday.’

  Wednesday! ‘No, I’m sorry we need this sorted sooner than that. Thanks, I’ll try someone else.’

  The first company on the list were equally busy. On the fifth frustrating phone call, she got lucky, the second was able to send a team the following day. She gave her credit card details to secure the contract and promised to have the keys delivered to the office that afternoon. The easiest thing to do was to order a taxi to bring them, and twenty minutes later she handed the set of keys to the driver.

  With that out of the way, she sat back on the sofa, picked up her phone again and scrolled through the contacts to find the employment agency they used. ‘Hi Marianne,’ she said when it was answered. ‘We need someone for reception from Tuesday for a couple of weeks, maybe longer.’ The thought of interviewing for someone to take Roy’s place was too hard to contemplate. Using an agency was expensive but it was worth it to give them some leeway.

  ‘No problem,’ Marianne said. ‘Is the amazing Roy taking time off?’

  ‘Not exactly.’ Keri squeezed her eyes shut on the image of his blood-soaked body. ‘He was killed. Friday morning. In the office. So you’d better not send someone squeamish.’ The silence lasted so long she thought she’d been cut off. ‘Hello?’

  ‘Sorry, I’m stunned. I met Roy a couple of times. A nicer guy you couldn’t meet.’

  Keri’s fingers tightened on the phone. ‘Yes. We’ll miss him.’ She swallowed and kept her focus on the business. ‘If you could send someone who has been with us before, that would be so helpful.’

  ‘Roy took so little time off, but you did have someone recently, I’ll check who it was and see if he’s free. I’ll do the best I can and promise you’ll definitely have someone on Tuesday morning.’

  Keri had to be satisfied with that and thanking the administrator, she hung up.

  This is what she was good at. Getting things sorted.

  It was too late to help Roy. Whatever he’d wanted to speak to her about had gone with him. It was up to the police now to find his killer.

  Barry Morgan… it was preposterous to think he’d anything to do with Roy’s death. Wasn’t it? He’d been angry she’d ended their affair, the wreath and rat a nasty touch of revenge, but it was a huge leap to murder. Hopefully, he’d have moved on. She needed to stop beating herself with a stick made of guilt and put him and that stupid period of madness behind her.

  Her priority now was Nathan. She’d find out what the hell was going on with him and she’d fix it.

  She would fix it.

  27

  Unfortunately for Keri’s renewed determination, Nathan didn’t return. Late afternoon, her phone buzzed with a brief message from him.

  I’m ok. Trying to sort a few things out in my head. Don’t worry. See you in the office Tuesday.

  Tuesday! Keri rang his number but it went straight to voicemail. Frustrated, her thumb flew over the keyboard. Why can’t you come home now? It was tempting to add we need to talk but she knew that would be the last thing he’d want to hear. Instead, she added, I love you, and pressed send.

  The reply was immediate. Love you too. Cu Tuesday.

  Where are you staying? She stared at the screen waiting for an answer till her eyes stung. None came. Blinking, she tossed her mobile down and slumped back with a groan. Tuesday, she might kill him before sitting him down to find out what the hell was going on.

  By the time Abbie and Daniel returned, thankfully alone, Keri had resigned herself to waiting. She met their queries about their father with a smile and a ready-made lie waiting to be used. ‘He met an old friend, they went to the pub and ended back in the friend’s house. He’s going to stay over.’

  ‘He’s not coming home?’ Abbie’s face fell.

  Keri hoped her laugh didn’t sound forced. ‘You sound shocked. It’s good for him to be with his male friends, talk about man stuff.’

  ‘But now? With all this about Roy… don’t you need him here?’

  Keri put her arm around Abbie’s shoulder and pulled her into a hug. ‘Darling daughter, I’m fine. To be honest, it’s been so busy recently that we’ve been getting on each other’s nerves a bit and now the added stress of Roy’s murder on top of it all. It’s good to have a break from one another.’

  Abbie kissed her cheek and pulled away. ‘I’ve never understood how the two of you work together every day without driving each other crazy. As long as you’re okay.’

  Apart from a derogatory comment about his father’s drinking habits, Daniel merely raised an eyebrow when he heard but didn’t question his absence.

  Keri rang Nathan’s mobile at intervals the remainder of the evening but each time it went to voicemail. In desperation, she left a voice message in the end. ‘I don’t know what’s wrong, Nate, but whatever it is, we’ll get through it. We always do. I love you, remember that.’

  For the moment, it was all she could do.

  Keri didn’t hear from Nathan again that night although she lied and told Abbie and Daniel that he’d said hello. Annoyance vied with worry leading to a restless night’s sleep. Usually, she enjoyed bank holiday weekends but all she wanted was for Monday to be over. That she was lying to the twins was added guilt she didn’t need and found hard to bear.

  They insisted on taking her out to a pub for brunch rather than her having to cook again. She was easily persuaded, happier to be in the noise and jolly atmosphere of a pub than sitting at home wondering where Nathan was. How he was. Who he was with.

  Abbie kept Keri amused with choice anecdotes about the men on her course. She recounted a story of one student who considered himself to be a cross between Don Juan and Casanova. ‘He was desperately trying to chat up Tanya and–’

  ‘Tanya? The girl I met last year? One of your uni mates?’

  ‘Yep. He was agreeing with everything she said. I swear he nodded so hard he was unable to nod anymore because his head fell off his shoulders and rolled onto the road and got squashed by an Uber driver delivering a kebab.’

  Like many of Abbie’s anecdotes, it didn’t make a lot of sense but it made Keri laugh and that was what she needed. The food was good, she ate better than she had in days and had sparkling water in preference to more alcohol. A clear head was essential to get through the next day.

  She guessed Abbie and Daniel had been talking when neither asked when Nathan was coming home and she was relieved not to have to lie again.

  It was late afternoon before they returned home. If Keri had half-hoped Nathan would have changed his mind and returned, she was disappointed. ‘I think I’ll make a pot of tea,’ she said, throwing her jacket over the banisters. ‘Any takers?’

>   ‘Sure,’ Abbie said.

  Daniel merely nodded and, as Keri put the kettle on to boil, made himself useful taking out mugs and the jug of milk while Abbie sat with her elbows on the counter.

  ‘You sure you’re going to be okay?’ she said when Keri brought over the pot of tea.

  ‘It’s going to be a difficult few days, I won’t lie, but yes, we’ll be okay.’ She emphasised the we and smiled.

  ‘We could stay tonight.’

  Keri shook her head firmly. She knew they had plans, knew too they’d want to stay over with friends for convenience. There had been enough upset, it was good to return to normality. Truth was, she was looking forward to their departure, to being able to stop pretending. ‘No, that’s not necessary, honestly. I’m planning an early night. Tomorrow is going to be a tough day.’

  She walked them to the door when they were ready to go and waved them off. It wasn’t till they’d disappeared from view that she shut the door and locked it. It wasn’t the first time she’d spent the night on her own in the house but it was the first time she felt uneasy.

  It was understandable. Roy had been murdered by someone he probably knew. Someone she might know. She slipped the security chain in place, then hurried through to check the back door was locked. And the French windows. In the end, she wasn’t content till she’d checked every window downstairs. They rarely closed the curtains, but that night she went from room to room and pulled them all.

  It didn’t take away the sense that something bad was lurking outside. She was being silly. Stupid too, to worry suddenly if there was a connection between all the unsettling happenings… that damn wreath, the mangled dead rat, Barry’s lies, Tracy’s lies. Even Nathan’s. Was Roy’s murder the endgame or simply the next step in some twisted plan?

  Back in the living room, she picked up the detective’s card. Maybe she should tell him about Barry and the choice gifts he’d left for her.

  She took the card with her as she plodded up the stairs. Their sophisticated alarm system allowed her to isolate her bedroom and she felt safer when it was done and she was inside the room with the door locked. Sitting on the bed, she flicked the card against her lip. Too many bizarre things had happened in a short space of time. Too many people had lied. She was surprised she hadn’t considered a connection before. Because it was suddenly clear to her, there had to be one.

  But what the hell could it be?

  She flopped back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. The answer unfortunately wasn’t written there. She wished Nathan was beside her. They could’ve talked through it, bounced ideas around. The way they used to.

  When she felt tears gather, she sat up. No more damn tears. They weren’t going to bring Roy back. Or solve whatever the hell had gone wrong with her life.

  She’d have liked to go to sleep. Preferably for weeks. Hibernate until everything was right again. But it was only 7pm, too early to even try. Her book was on the bedside table. It was good, but reading didn’t appeal. She reached for the remote and switched on the TV. Channel-hopping to find something to watch, she switched off when nothing took her fancy, threw the remote to one side and got to her feet.

  A bath would have been nice. Relaxing too. But the idea of lying naked in the empty house sent chills down her spine. Camomile tea might help but that would mean switching off the alarm and going downstairs. She stood, shuffling from foot to foot, annoyed with her inability to make a simple decision, annoyed even more by unaccustomed fear that fluttered around her like a persistent bluebottle.

  She batted it away and switched off the alarm at the upstairs panel but the flash of bravery didn’t last past the first few steps downward. It was still bright but the setting sun was throwing shadows and shades. Halfway down, she stopped and waited, head tilted. There was nothing to hear apart from her own stupid thumping heart.

  The remaining steps were taken one at a time, her hand sliding along the banisters, eyes flicking from shadow to shade. She pushed open the kitchen door, the room in darkness thanks to the curtains she’d pulled earlier. Her fingers felt along the wall for the switch and flicked it to flood the room with light.

  The curtains over the French doors to the garden were heavy and usually looped back on each side, day and night. They didn’t lie flat as a result, the material forming deep folds that could easily have sheltered someone. Ridiculous. It would have to be a very skinny someone. But she couldn’t take her eyes from the curtains as she filled the kettle and switched it on.

  It seemed to take an eternity for the water to boil. Keri knew there was nobody behind the damn curtains. That it was only her fixed unblinking stare that made them look as if they were moving.

  But before the kettle had boiled, she crept from the room without taking her eyes from the undulating folds of fabric. At the stairs, she turned and ran, taking the steps three at a time. Only when the alarm was on, and the bedroom door shut and locked, did she slump against the wall feeling ridiculously foolish.

  She felt a little safer until, with another flash of stupidity, she remembered The Shining and Jack Nicholson’s crazed cry, ‘Here’s Johnny.’

  Stupid! There was nobody outside with an axe waiting to smash through the door. She was still telling herself this as she crawled under the duvet fully dressed and curled up.

  It was sometime in the early hours of the night that fear, having exhausted its host, took a step back and allowed her to fall asleep.

  28

  The morning light chased away some of the demons and Keri gave a half-hearted laugh as she climbed from the bed. Sometime during the restless night she’d kicked off her shoes. One was on the floor, the other tucked under the duvet. She brushed away the scuff marks they’d made on the sheets and gave a brief but quickly dismissed thought about changing them. Instead, she shook the duvet and fluffed the pillows. That would do.

  Her plan was to get to the office early to check that the clean-up specialists had lived up to their name. Early enough too, to face the memory of the last time she’d been there. Of course, she’d hoped Nathan would be with her. Mutual support. She tried his number but once again it went to voicemail. She tapped out a message. Resisted the temptation to beg.

  I’m planning on being at the office by 8.30am. Meet me there. Please don’t be late, it’s going to be tough.

  Surely he wouldn’t let her down.

  Keri always liked to portray a professional appearance but that morning she took extra care. Whatever Roy’s past, he’d earned respect from her and Metcalfe Conservation and she’d make sure he got it.

  All black seemed appropriate. Her Armani jacket and trousers, black silk Chanel shirt. She tied her hair back in a French knot but rather than allowing strands to curl around her face as she normally did, she pinned every hair back. It was severe. Funereal. A suitable reflection of their loss.

  Dark-grey pearl earrings, an overlarge black clutch bag, and she was ready to go.

  The Uber she’d called arrived within minutes. She’d decided to take it to the office rather than the station. It might take a little longer but she was even earlier than she’d planned and it saved having to push through the crowds at the station. She refused to admit that she was nervous of being in such an open place where Roy’s killer might have easy access.

  She checked her phone as the taxi chugged through busy London streets but Nathan hadn’t replied. She left a voicemail, trying to keep the hint of desperation from creeping into her words. I’m almost there, hope you’re on your way. Love you.

  There was still no reply by the time the taxi stopped outside their office building. She stared at it for a moment noting that only the emergency lights were on and the alarm was still engaged. Nathan hadn’t arrived yet. She swallowed the lump of self-pity that had lodged in her throat and climbed from the taxi. They had an account with Uber that covered the journey but she pulled a ten-pound note from her purse and handed it to the driver. ‘Wait until I’m inside please, will you?’

  He pockete
d the bill. ‘Sure.’

  With the office keys in her hand, she walked up the broad steps to the glass front door. There was a clear view through to the reception area. Nothing to be seen. Nothing out of the ordinary. Just a huge sense of absence.

  She opened the door, the beep of the alarm confirming it was engaged and turned to wave a thanks to the driver before shutting and locking the door behind her.

  Once the alarm was switched off, she approached the reception desk, her heels clicking loudly in the silence. She kept her lips pressed together as she edged around to the other side but the clean-up team had done a good job. There was nothing to see. No evidence that this was where Roy had bled to death.

  His chair was missing. She’d told them to remove anything that was too heavily contaminated, but everything else that had made this area Roy’s kingdom was still there. A piece of stone, from every project the company had worked on since he joined, stood on the freestanding shelves that were angled in a V behind the desk. Roy remembered each and was happy to tell potential customers their story. Often it had swayed those who hadn’t quite decided to avail of Metcalfe Conservation’s services.

  The spinning desk organiser still held Roy’s eclectic mix of pens and multicoloured paperclips. Photographs of various events were slotted along the back of the countertop – Roy’s smiling face in each surrounded by Keri, Nathan, Abbie and Daniel along with various customers and suppliers over the years. Happy pictures.

  A vase stood empty. Every Monday morning, Roy would arrive with a bunch of fresh flowers from his local florist. She was pleased the clean-up team had removed the withered remains. Later, she’d ring a florist and have a suitable arrangement delivered.

  The desktop computer was missing. She had a vague memory of DI Elliot telling her they’d be taking it for forensic investigation. Damn, she’d left his card at home. She’d try to get him through the station to ask when it would be returned. Hopefully, they’d have found nothing suspicious on it. Or on Roy’s home computer. She wanted to cling to the memories of the man she knew. They would be invariably tarnished if… She couldn’t finish that thought.