The Dead Wife

by Sue Fortin

  ‘I’ll be fine,’ she said, although the thought of having someone else in the lodge for the night was appealing, even if the idea of coming across as a weak woman who needed looking after annoyed her.

  ‘I would sooner not leave you on your own,’ said Harry, this time more firmly. ‘I’d like to get the locks looked at in the morning. It’s too late to get anyone out tonight.’

  ‘OK, you can stay on the sofa,’ said Steph, and couldn’t help feeling relieved. Whoever had broken in here tonight had either wanted to scare her or warn her. Her mind went straight to Owen and what she’d seen him doing. Could he have broken in to warn her off? And how did that relate to Harry? She wished she could isolate the incidents. She wasn’t naive enough to think that, just because Owen was into drugs, Harry was too, but his reaction to his brother had been neutral.

  ‘That’s fine,’ said Harry. ‘I’ll be right out here if you need me, though. Just shout.’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Steph, pushing herself up from the sofa. She purposely avoided his outstretched hand. She didn’t trust herself to make physical contact with him. ‘Goodnight, Harry.’

  Once inside her bedroom, Steph closed the door and leaned back against it, letting out a sigh. Tentatively she climbed into bed, resting her head on the pillow. She didn’t know how long she lay there before she finally went to sleep but images of the person in her lodge wouldn’t leave her. She didn’t think they had been there to do her any harm, otherwise they wouldn’t have fled as soon as she’d knocked herself out. The more she thought about it, the more she was sure they hadn’t meant to push her. They had simply been trying to flee. But what did they want? Maybe she had just disturbed them before they’d had time to search the place. Thank goodness her laptop was still there, although out of habit she always backed her work up on a memory stick and that was securely in her purse.

  Eventually she felt herself beginning to drift off and her mind wandered back to the lake and kissing Harry. Knowing he was just metres away on the other side of the wall was both reassuring and frustrating.

  Lodge 174, Conmere, Sunday, 12 May, 10.00 a.m.

  When Steph woke in the morning she instantly remembered what had happened the previous night. There was no gentle drift of events into her consciousness; the memories were there immediately. She sat up and, although her head still hurt, the pain definitely had eased over the last few hours.

  Steph hoped Harry was still there. She hated to admit it, but she felt a little nervous after last night. Sitting still, she listened for any sign of him, then she got up, wrapped her dressing gown around herself and ventured out.

  ‘Good morning,’ he said, rising from the sofa, on which he looked to have been studying his phone. ‘How are you feeling?’

  ‘Hi. Not so bad. I wasn’t sure if you’d still be here.’ She let out a small breath of relief to have him there.

  ‘I was hardly likely to go off and leave you, not after what happened.’

  ‘I know, but I thought you might have work to do.’ She moved into the kitchen area and filled the kettle.

  Harry was at her side. ‘Here, let me do that; you go and sit down.’ He took the kettle from her and set about preparing the tea. ‘I’ve checked in with Dominic and Owen. All is well, and it’s times like this when a smartphone is actually the best invention. I can do all the things I need to sitting right here.’

  ‘Thank you for staying; I appreciate that.’

  ‘I’ve arranged for someone to bring over some breakfast.’ He checked his watch. ‘In fact, your timing is impeccable, as I told them ten-thirty.’

  ‘You didn’t have to,’ she protested half-heartedly.

  ‘I wanted to,’ countered Harry. ‘Someone is also coming over to change the locks. I know you’re technically leaving this lodge today but, seeing as that’s not until later, I wanted you to feel safe.’

  ‘You’re really thoughtful, aren’t you?’ said Steph, taking the cup of tea he passed over to her.

  ‘I try to be. Now, once you’ve drunk that, can you double-check that everything is here?’

  Steph looked round the room. ‘I’m sure nothing has been taken,’ she said. ‘I think I probably disturbed whoever it was before they had time to grab anything.’

  ‘How’s your head? I still think someone should look at it.’

  Steph touched the side of her head. ‘It’s OK. There was quite a big lump last night, but it’s gone down now.’

  ‘If you feel dizzy or sick, you must let me know. I’ll take you straight to the hospital.’

  ‘Thank you but I’m sure I’m OK.’ She drank her tea, touched by his concern. It had been a long time since anyone had looked after her. Her ex-husband, Zac, had been attentive once upon a time, but that ship had sailed long ago. In fact, Steph always saw it as the first indicator that her marriage had been on the rocks. She tossed the unhappy thoughts from her mind. ‘Do you want to see the pictures now you’re here?’

  A knock at the door interrupted the conversation. Harry got up and went to open it. Steph could hear him speaking to the maintenance man who had come to change the locks.

  ‘That was quick,’ she commented, once he had carried out the task.

  Harry handed her a new key. ‘Hold on to that for now. I’ve got two spares, which I’ll take over to Reception in a minute.’

  She took the key and placed it in her bag. ‘Does your maintenance department have a skeleton key for the lodge?’

  ‘I should imagine so,’ said Harry. ‘What are you thinking? That someone has got hold of the master key?’

  Steph shrugged. ‘I don’t know what I’m thinking really, but it’s a possibility.’

  ‘Which would mean they could still let themselves in.’

  She was more scared than she cared to admit. What if the person decided to come back? Would they take such a risk? It was impossible to answer with any certainty. ‘I suppose if I dead bolt the door, that should help.’ She spoke with rather more confidence than she felt as her imagination got the better of her.

  ‘Do you want to move lodges? Go into staff accommodation? Or … I can stay here with you.’

  It was a tempting offer, there was no denying that, but she felt on edge – was it such a coincidence that Harry had turned up just after the intruder had fled? She needed time to process her thoughts and that meant space from Harry.

  ‘I’ll feel safer in the staff accommodation in the main house, if I’m honest,’ she said.

  Harry gave her one of his thoughtful looks, one that she couldn’t quite read, before offering a small smile. ‘Sure. I understand. Let me know if you change your mind.’

  ‘Thanks.’ And then, wanting to take her mind off what had happened, she asked, ‘Shall we look at those pictures now?’

  ‘I’d love to.’

  They spent the next hour poring over the laptop, Steph calling up the best of the shots she had taken. Even though she was no longer on her own and Harry was there, the photos had an unsettling effect on her. The water from the south side looked so tranquil and peaceful, it was certainly a place where you wanted to spend time, just to sit and appreciate the hills behind it. But on the north side the water took on a totally different character. It was dark and moody, the water unwelcoming, and the shadows from the hills behind it cast themselves across the water like a cloak.

  Harry hadn’t said anything as they’d looked through her shots, and when she took a look out of the corner of her eye to gauge his reaction she saw an expression as dark as the water in her photo cross his face. He was lost in his own thoughts, somewhere far away from where they were now.

  He must have felt her gaze, as he blinked a couple of times and looked at Steph, then back to the laptop screen. He gave what sounded like a fake cough. ‘They’re all great in their own way,’ he said, clearly trying to recover his composure. ‘I love how natural they are. No filter.’

  ‘No smoke and lights,’ said Steph. ‘Everything in plain sight. That’s just how I like it.’r />
  She didn’t look at him as she flicked back through the photos, but she was aware of his gaze on her this time. She wondered if he had experienced the same eerie and unsettling sensation that she had from the photographs. And, if he had, was it simply from the atmosphere she’d captured or was it because of what had happened to Elizabeth there?

  Her mobile phone ringing broke the silence and Steph picked it up from the table. The name Sonia Lomas flashed up on the screen. Hurriedly she declined the call and placed the phone face down on the table next to her. She half expected Harry to say something, but it appeared he hadn’t seen who was calling her.

  ‘Didn’t you want to take that?’ he asked, his own eyes still fixed on the computer screen.

  Steph swallowed. ‘No. Not important. Just a friend.’

  ‘A friend?’

  Her palms felt sweaty as she reached out and clicked through to some more pictures. ‘Sort-of friend. As I say, nothing important.’

  Harry studied the photos again. ‘They are all great,’ he said, after a while. ‘I was thinking … I could buy some of these from you and put the rest up for sale in the shop as well – that way, you get to make money twice: once from me, and once from anyone who wants to buy one as a memento of their stay, or just because they love the beauty of the lake. You say what you want to make on each picture and we’ll stick a little bit on top by way of commission. How does that sound?’

  ‘I’m flattered.’

  ‘Don’t be. It’s a sign that you undervalue your own work. You’ve got a talent for taking photos and you should be proud of it – know your own worth.’

  Steph gave an embarrassed laugh. ‘Point taken.’

  There was an awkward silence between them for a moment and it was Harry who spoke first. ‘Steph, about Owen,’ he began. ‘I promise you, what you saw last night was nothing to do with me. I’m not into any of that.’

  ‘You didn’t seem very surprised by it,’ Steph replied.

  ‘Owen has his own demons. I didn’t know about this latest one until I came back. I’ve already decided I’m going to try to help him, if he’ll let me.’

  ‘You’re a good brother,’ she said. ‘What are your demons?’

  He didn’t speak for a long time, and when he did his voice was soft and full of sadness. ‘Guilt.’

  ‘For what?’

  Harry shook his head. ‘I’d better go.’ He stood up abruptly. ‘Are you going to be OK on your own until checking-out time?’

  He had switched so suddenly to business mode that it took Steph by surprise. She had really felt he was going to open up to her, but he had managed to hop from one mood to another in the blink of an eye.

  She stood up too. ‘Yeah, sure.’

  ‘When you go to the office, if I’m not there someone will show you where your staff accommodation is,’ he said. Before she could reply he was walking out of the door.

  Steph went to call after him but changed her mind. What the hell had just happened there? She’d thought they had something between them just then, but now she just didn’t have a clue. Was it something to do with what they had discussed? He’d said his demon was guilt. What exactly did he feel guilty for? Betraying his wife’s memory by being with Steph? Or betraying his wife by having some involvement in her death? Steph didn’t think Harry was a murderer, not that she had anything to base this assumption on, but from what she’d seen of him, he was a good man, kind and considerate. But then, what about the other side she’d seen last night, his acceptance of his brother and the drugs? Could Harry turn a blind eye to people doing bad things? He might not have had a hand in Elizabeth’s death, but had he been a bystander? Steph closed her eyes – she really didn’t know what to think.

  The sound of her phone ringing took her attention. She picked it up and saw it was Sonia Lomas again. She’d totally forgotten Sonia had called earlier.

  ‘Hello, Sonia. What’s up? Why are you ringing me? We said no contact.’ It wasn’t the most gracious way to open a conversation but Steph’s head hurt, she was tired and she felt cast adrift.

  ‘It’s important,’ said Sonia. ‘I need to speak to you.’

  ‘What’s happened?’

  ‘Meet me today at one-thirty at the Fox & Hounds. It’s a pub in the village. About a mile away from Conmere.’

  ‘OK, but can you give me some idea what this is all about? Are you OK?’

  ‘I think I’m being followed. I’ll talk to you properly when I see you.’

  Before Steph could ask anything more, the line went dead.

  Chapter Twenty

  Two Years Earlier,

  Conmere, 10 September, 10.45 a.m.

  Elizabeth checked the camera was in her handbag and, leaving the lodge, made her way over to the stables, where she knew Owen would be. If nothing else, he was a creature of habit. Harry had already headed over to the offices at Conmere House, as he and Dominic were interviewing for a new chef that morning. Elizabeth knew it pissed Owen off that he wasn’t invited to these meetings, but Dominic was adamant he and Harry were best placed to deal with it.

  As she walked across the stable yard, she could see the back of Owen’s head as he looked at his laptop screen. He turned at her approach, her low-heeled boots announcing her arrival.

  ‘To what do I owe this pleasure?’ He emphasised the last word to make it clear this was anything but a pleasure.

  ‘Don’t worry, I’m not stopping long. And I assure you the pleasure will be all mine.’

  Owen narrowed his eyes. ‘Get on with it. I’m a busy man.’

  Elizabeth looked at her watch. ‘I was going to say the pub’s not open yet, but I don’t suppose that will bother you. I expect you’ve got something stashed away somewhere.’

  ‘Oh, do piss off, Elizabeth. This is really very boring now.’

  Elizabeth placed both hands on the desk and leaned towards him. ‘The fun is only just beginning.’

  Owen gave an exaggerated eye-roll and leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers together. ‘As I say, I’m busy. I haven’t got much time.’

  ‘Well, since our last chat about selling the land, I’ve had a little rethink.’

  Owen threw back his head and gave a loud laugh. ‘Oh, for God’s sake, you’re not still harping on about that, are you?’

  ‘I don’t give up. When I want something, I keep going until I get it.’ She was actually enjoying this and the prospect of Owen being totally fucked was positively thrilling. ‘Just be quiet and listen. You won’t be laughing in a minute.’

  ‘I’m all ears.’

  ‘I understand you had a little trip yesterday for a meeting at Kendalton Green Hotel.’

  The colour drained from Owen’s face and he shifted in his seat. ‘That’s right.’ His voice was steady.

  ‘A little bird tells me that the meeting was cancelled.’ She paused as Owen swallowed hard. ‘But you had a meeting of another kind. A different sort of bird – a blonde one.’

  ‘You’re talking bollocks.’

  Elizabeth held out the memory card to Owen. ‘Am I?’

  Owen snatched the memory card from her. ‘What’s this?’

  ‘A short film. Why don’t you have a look?’

  Owen eyed her with pursed lips, before slotting it into the side of his laptop. He clicked on the play button.

  Elizabeth didn’t need to look; she could hear the muffled voices of Owen and Camilla. She winced slightly at the moan Owen gave. She knew what point of the recording he was at.

  ‘What the fuck?’ demanded Owen, sweat beading on his brow and above his top lip. ‘What the actual fuck?’

  ‘Good choice of words,’ said Elizabeth, as she sat in the chair and looked at her brother-in-law’s obvious distress.

  He slammed the screen down, snatched the card from the laptop and jumped to his feet. He leaned over the desk, waving the memory card at Elizabeth. ‘Where did you get this from?’

  ‘That doesn’t really matter, does it?’

  ‘That
bitch must have set me up.’ Owen thumped the lid of the laptop and shoved the memory card into his pocket, with a small look of triumph.

  Elizabeth laughed. ‘Oh, really, Owen. You think I’m that stupid to just have one copy of your little show.’

  ‘You were behind this?’ Owen’s face was bright red with rage. ‘You give me the other copy. Now! Do you hear?’

  ‘Or you’ll do what? Why don’t you take a deep breath, count to ten and sit down?’ Elizabeth’s voice grew hard. ‘And get a grip of yourself. You weak, pathetic excuse for a man.’

  Owen looked as if he was going to explode. He swiped his hand across the desk, sending the telephone and a pot of pens across the floor. ‘I’m not messing around,’ he shouted. ‘Give me the other copy.’

  Elizabeth made a big huffing noise. ‘Honestly, Owen, just sit down and shut up so we can work this out amicably.’ She spoke to him the way she would to a naughty child who was in the middle of a temper tantrum. It was no wonder Dominic didn’t trust him with anything other than a few old nags.

  Owen slumped down into his chair, the effort to control his temper very much apparent, but he made a valiant endeavour and his natural pallor returned. Only his deep breathing gave him away.

  ‘What is it you want?’ he said finally.

  ‘Excellent, we’ve come to the nub of this little exercise.’

  ‘Just get on with it.’

  Elizabeth smiled. ‘It’s very simple: you tell Dominic and Harry you’ve changed your mind about selling North Meadow and then the three of you can tell your dear mother and she’ll have to abide by the majority voting rule and sell the land.’

  ‘What? Are you serious?’

  ‘Never been more so. It’s not a big deal, Owen. We all win that way. You four will split the profits equally, which means, as Harry’s wife and having joint accounts, I can have access to the funds too. That’s all I want. It’s not illegal.’

  ‘It might not be but it’s definitely immoral.’

  ‘I don’t think you’re in any position to preach to me about morals.’ Elizabeth inclined her head. ‘I don’t think Natalie will be very happy to know what your morals are.’