Gabrielle did as she was told. The temperature outside had dropped significantly and she was pleased to feel the warmth. The kitchen was huge and very much in keeping with the room she had just passed through. It was like walking into a nineteenth century parlour kitchen but she assumed that behind the cupboard doors she would find all the mod cons.
‘You would like some tea, wouldn’t you?’ asked Annabelle checking the kettle on the Aga.
‘Well, yes, I would. That would be very kind.’
‘So what brings you to this neck of the woods?’ Annabelle busied herself with the kettle, teapot and cups and saucers.
‘May I explain first that I got your address from Inspector Eric Rowlands?’
Annabelle stopped what she was doing. ‘Eric Rowlands?’ She looked at Gabrielle. ‘What was he doing giving strangers my address?’
‘I did tell him that once I’d explained to you why I’m here, you would understand.’
‘Did you, by Jove, that was a bit presumptuous. So why are you here?’ Annabelle obviously wasn’t too offended because she went back to making the tea.
‘I’m a friend of Adam Harrison.’
Annabelle was in the process of pouring boiling water into a teapot and the flow of water to pot did not waver. ‘Are you now? You said of Adam Harrison, not the Harrisons,’ and then before Gabrielle could qualify her statement, Annabelle added, ‘but of course not. If you’d meant the family as a whole you’d have said were rather than are. How do you like your tea?’ Annabelle’s statement and question were made without any emotion.
‘A spot of milk and no sugar, please.’
‘Milk first?’
‘I really don’t mind.’
‘No, nor do I. It’s all a load of pretentious rubbish.’ Annabelle put the cups of tea on the table and sat down. ‘So you’re a friend of Adam Harrison’s. What’s that got to do with me, Gabrielle.’ Annabelle picked up her cup. ‘That’s such a nice name.’
‘Thank you.’ Gabrielle sipped her tea. It was strong. ‘I’m not too sure, but perhaps I ought to give you a bit of the background to my relationship with Adam first.’
‘If you think it’ll help.’
Gabrielle felt the need to confide in somebody and for some reason she thought Annabelle was the right person. She was involved and yet she wasn’t. Over the next fifteen minutes Gabrielle told Annabelle about almost everything that had happened although she didn’t try to explain her own feelings too accurately because she wasn’t sure of them herself. However, she did tell Annabelle about the outcome of her visit to the Ashbourne Police Station and her time with Inspector Eric Rowlands. A sense of relief accompanied the words, ‘And that’s why I felt the need to come and see you.’
Annabelle Tregarthen had listened patiently. She sipped her tea, looked as though she was very interested and didn’t interrupt. At one stage she filled both their cups with fresh tea, sat down again and carried on listening.
‘And you came here to find Adam only to discover that he’s gone to Hong Kong?’
Gabrielle nodded. Annabelle paused for a few more moments. ‘My immediate advice to you, my dear, would be to get in your car, head north and go back to Loch Lomond and I don’t mean that rudely. I say would be because I know you won’t do it.’ She smiled with a surprising amount of understanding. ‘I’m going to say something rather strange now, Gabrielle, but I can assure you it is relevant. This house and almost everything in it belongs to me and when I say it belongs to me, I mean I bought it with my own money and not with any settlement I received from Jeremy. Look at me,’ she said, spreading her arms. ‘You’ve met Jeremy. Would you say I was the type he would go for? There’s no need to answer that because I know the answer already and have done for more years than I care to remember. I was a naïve and silly little girl when Jeremy asked me to marry him but he’d twisted not only me round his little finger but my parents as well. They thought he was wonderful and everybody expected us to get married. My parents now live in Alderley Edge in Cheshire and Daddy is semi-retired but they were and still are very well off. Daddy was a very astute businessman and I was their only offspring so I was born with the biggest silver spoon in my mouth you could imagine.’ Annabelle smiled. ‘I was rich by default and had a very handsome and, I admit, a very capable fiancé. The wedding was a lavish affair and cost Daddy tens of thousands. What I obviously didn’t know at the time was that a couple of nights before I got married, my wonderful husband-to-be was in bed with my chief bridesmaid, Catherine, my best friend from our university days who had flown in from Canada a week before the wedding and who Jeremy had known for five minutes. In the space of seven years we were together, I produced three children and he had five affairs, and they are the ones I know about so God knows how many others there were.’
Gabrielle’s mind shot back to the incident in the hotel room and how for a brief second she could so easily have fallen under Jeremy Jacobs’ spell. ‘That must have been awful.’
‘I put up with it for as long as I could but even I have my limits. I stayed with him for the sake of the children but then … why am I telling you all this?’
Gabrielle smiled. ‘Because I told you all about how I met Adam.’
‘Yes, possibly. Then again, maybe that collar might have something to do with it. Is it confession time?’ Annabelle smiled and touched the back of Gabrielle’s hand. ‘You have probably guessed what I was going to say next.’
‘Lucinda Harrison?’
Annabelle nodded. ‘Please don’t misunderstand me, I don’t wish to speak ill of the dead, and the deaths of those two sweet children were horrific but I don’t know how Adam put up with it. Lucinda was a terrible flirt, not what one would have expected from somebody with her upbringing. She had every man she met grovelling at her feet but she seemed to make a bee-line for my husband, Jeremy that is, and he lapped up every second of it. But although Adam saw what she was doing he stuck by her because he absolutely idolised the very ground she walked on.’ Annabelle paused for a moment, her eyes moving away from Gabrielle’s. ‘But why the children?’
‘Are you suggesting you think there’s a connection between the murders and -’ Gabrielle began to ask.
‘No, my dear, I’m not, not at all. Jeremy might be a philandering bastard but he wouldn’t hurt a fly. I know Rowlands thought there was a motive but that was because he had nothing else to go on.’
‘And Adam?’
‘He didn’t tell you about his wife’s flirtatiousness, did he, and especially with Jeremy?.’
‘I didn’t know your ex-husband existed until yesterday. Adam alluded to no such goings on but like you I did draw the conclusion that Lucinda and their children were his world and that’s why he was in Loch Lomond - his world no longer existed.’
‘The children -’ Annabelle repeated. ‘Lucinda Harrison was a beautiful woman. When she walked down Church Street every head, male and female, turned to look at her. Actually she didn’t walk anywhere, she glided, she flowed, she floated, you know what I mean? She had the face and figure most top class models would have died for ... no, best if I don’t use that word.’ Again Annabelle touched the back of Gabrielle’s hand. ‘You know what I mean,’ she said again.
‘Yes, I do. You were going to say something about the children.’
‘Yes I was, but before I do, would you like some more tea?’
‘No thanks, I’m fine but I’m taking up so much of your time -’
‘No, not at all.’ Annabelle looked over Gabrielle’s shoulder at an old station clock on the wall. ‘It’s just gone eleven and I don’t have to be anywhere else until after lunch. Perhaps we could have lunch together as we’re baring our souls. Well, at least I am. The least I can do is feed you.’
‘That would be nice, but -’
‘No buts, my dear, it’ll just be soup and a roll but you’re welcome.’
‘Thank you.’
‘Now, the children. They were absolutely lovely kids, always polite, considerate
and never in any trouble. They were away at school most of the time, well during the week, as mine are, but … oh, it was dreadful, Gabrielle.’ Annabelle’s eyes began to water and she shook her head. ‘The thought of those poor children having their … I can’t even say it.’ She closed her eyes.
Gabrielle let the other woman have her moment of silence. There was something she felt everyone was missing but because she had no knowledge or experience in these matters she didn’t feel confident enough to discuss it. Other than Jeremy Jacobs who’d explained his theory, both Inspector Eric Rowlands and now Annabelle were leading up to telling her they believed it had been a crime of passion. Annabelle was dismissing her ex-husband Jeremy because he was incapable of violence whereas Rowlands implied both Jeremy Jacobs and Adam Harrison were still on the suspect list. Regardless of provocation, did Gabrielle believe either man was capable of drawing a knife across the throats of two young children?
‘I’m sorry,’ Annabelle said, regaining her composure, ‘but I’m sure you understand because most women would.’
‘Of course I do.’
‘Do you ride?’ Annabelle asked suddenly.
‘Er, I have ridden and when I was younger quite a lot, but I’m not a regular now. It’s a question of time.’
‘Of course.’ Annabelle fussed over a drop of milk on the table before asking, ‘I know this is a bit personal, but would you mind telling me why you decided to become a minister? As far as I can see you had a lot of prejudice to overcome, starting with a male dominated profession and finishing with the very people you’re there to support.’
Gabrielle smiled. ‘It’s a question I’ve been asked on numerous occasions and I’d be pleased to tell you.’
The two women talked for another hour, stopping only momentarily to enjoy the soup Annabelle had promised. Eventually Gabrielle felt that she had justified her existence.
‘The soup was lovely, thank you.’
‘A pleasure, my dear. The children and Hilary have become rather used to my homemade soups so it’s good to get an honest opinion.’ She paused. ‘And thank you for telling me all about yourself. You’re such an attractive young woman and with that figure you could have chosen any career you wanted, so the dedication you’ve described is no surprise. You put me to shame.’
‘Not at all, Annabelle,’ said Gabrielle, feeling a little embarrassed. ‘To each his own. We are the people we are and -’
‘Don’t spoil it, Gabrielle! Although you have my utmost admiration and respect, let me just sit and think that behind the collar and crucifix is a closeted passion and if the right man were to come along ... well, who knows?’ she asked, smiling.
Gabrielle returned her smile, still embarrassed by the other woman’s directness. She wondered if Annabelle was ready to listen to the reason why she was here. ‘As you’re so sure that Jeremy could not harm another human being, do you feel the same about Adam?’
The smile left Annabelle’s face. ‘I’d like to think I do, yes. As I said, he absolutely doted on Lucinda and to such an extent he’d have forgiven any transgression, unlike me with Jeremy. So, no, deep down I’d like to think that he, like Jeremy, could not, even in a moment of utter rage, have lifted a finger to harm Lucinda and certainly not the children.’ Annabelle looked deeply into Gabrielle’s eyes. ‘No, something a lot more sinister, a lot more shocking was responsible for their deaths. I think if the police were to look in the right place they would be equally shocked by what they found.’
‘And where is the right place, Annabelle?’
Annabelle lifted her eyes from Gabrielle to the ceiling. ‘I don’t think I ever want to know,’ she replied in a whisper.
* * *
The journey went reasonably well until Gabrielle saw the brake lights coming on ahead of her. She was on the M5 having just passed Exit 13 for Stroud. She decided there must be an accident ahead because the traffic had been too light for it to be anything else. She worked her way into the inside lane and settled in behind a large blue BMW.
She had let her mind wander freely as she left Ashbourne and headed for the M6. She liked Annabelle but the more the two women talked the more Gabrielle realised just how apparent it must have been that from the outset Annabelle and Jeremy were not suited. She could never provide him with the sexual excitement and the challenge he obviously thrived on and he would never give her the intellectual stimulation she needed. Gabrielle was sorry she did not meet Hilary; she was sure he was an adorable man who worshipped Annabelle the way Adam had adored Lucinda.
Gabrielle did not believe Annabelle would even have alluded to a relationship between Jeremy and Lucinda if there had not been any truth in it, but even so, Gabrielle was surprised. She had conjured up this image of a beautiful and devoted wife and mother who lived for her husband and children. Adam had not even hinted at any impropriety in his marriage to Lucinda that might give reason for restlessness for either of them. He had painted an idyllic picture. Gabrielle wondered if she could draw any real conclusions from what she’d been told.
She wished she could go back to when Jeremy was telling her about sitting next to Lucinda at a dinner party when she’d been so worried about Patrick possibly being in a criminal gang in Hong Kong. Dinner party? It was, from what Annabelle told her, more likely to have been pillow talk. How could a man sleep with his best friend’s wife? The fact that Annabelle had slept with a slime ball like Jeremy Jacobs was even more deplorable.
In many ways Gabrielle was pleased Annabelle had told her about her ex-husband and Lucinda. She had to conclude that Adam did know about what had been going on, and after the murders he had every reason to be thoroughly depressed. But like Annabelle with Jeremy, Gabrielle could not believe Adam was capable of harming anybody and especially his own children. No, Annabelle was right, both men may have had motives but neither was capable of acting on them.
Or were they?
* * *
As Gabrielle’s car came to a halt on the M5 and she could see the queue of traffic stretching ahead for at least a mile, Adam was enjoying another very hot shower in anticipation of his meeting with Leila.
He was nervous.
Nervous was perhaps an understatement; he was anxious.
Even during his days at university he had not gone out with a single female on his own. He had many admirers and it was not for lack of open invitations. Many who were rebuffed assumed he was a closeted homosexual and eventually, with great disappointment, left him alone. Whenever he did go out it was in a group, sometimes just a small group but it was always in a group. He had not slept with anybody else other than Lucinda. He had not kissed, touched, caressed, cried or laughed with, argued, made up with or loved any woman other than Lucinda. To all intents and purposes, he was a virgin. He had not wanted anybody but Lucinda. He never wanted anyone else’s mind or body other than Lucinda’s.
The inevitable comments, polite at first, were thrown his way. ‘What’s the matter with you, Adam, are you some kind of weirdo?’, ‘You’re not gay are you, Adam?’, ‘For fuck’s sake Adam, there are girls out there gagging for it and they want it from you, what the fuck’s the matter with you?’ He had never told anybody why because he’d never felt the need. It was none of their business. All Adam knew was that Lucinda was the only woman he ever wanted. When he and Lucinda met after his graduation he had seen some of his friends looking; he had seen them going to find the others and pointing; he had seen some of the girls who had made obvious offers, nudging each other and wondering who this mystery oriental girl might be. Adam had not cared and Lucinda had not known there was anything to be aware of other than the fact that at last they were together again.
But now, sixteen years later, Adam was very apprehensive.
He was nearly thirty-six years old and he was apprehensive because he was going to have dinner with a woman who, from what he had heard and seen so far, would make him the envy of most other men.
As he towelled himself dry he didn’t stop to think why he was si
ngled out at the airport. As he walked naked across to the window and marvelled at the panorama of Hong Kong Island across the other side of Victoria Harbour, he did not stop to think he was in any kind of danger. His brother Patrick had crossed his mind several occasions over the years but a lot more recently, and especially as the aircraft drew inexorably closer to his first home, Patrick was on his mind more and more.
When he first lived with the Yongs, Adam was oblivious to any animosity his adoption might generate. Being unaware at that young age of the enormity of losing his own parents, his innocence also protected him to a great extent from the problems that went with his adoptive father’s obligation to his biological father. But it was during his and Lucinda’s tenth birthday party that he became aware of Patrick’s true feelings towards him. Adam believed he had given his brother no cause to feel the way he did, but when he was banished to school in the UK he gave any lingering ill feeling little thought. Years later he remembered discussing with Lucinda Patrick’s decision to stay in Hong Kong when his mother and father came to the UK. Lucinda told him their father was secretly very happy and proud that his son stayed so he could carry on the family tradition where it really belonged.
When the time came for Joseph, Christina and Lucinda to leave Hong Kong, Patrick was well established as a junior reporter with the Kowloon Times. He was well thought of and the contacts his father spoke to believed Patrick showed great promise. When he did not travel to the UK for Lucinda’s and Adam’s wedding, Adam revisited his relationship with his brother, but his father and Lucinda used all the excuses in the book to explain Patrick’s non-attendance. Christina, Adam remembered, said little, but her silence spoke a thousand words. During the intervening years all Adam heard about Patrick was from his parents and sometimes from Lucinda. If he were being honest with himself as well as them, he had reached the stage where he couldn’t care less about his brother.
In Denial Page 20
