Death By Dangerous

by Death By Dangerous (epub)

An affectionate smile. ‘It doesn’t matter now, John.’

  ‘It does. We should never have married. It wasn’t love for either of us. Not back then, or now.’

  Her expression changed to one of surprise.

  He tried to explain: ‘I didn’t know who I was. Too busy trying to be someone else – living up to other people’s expectations of me instead of my own. I’m sorry.’

  Her eyes narrowed. Anger rose up: ‘What? You don’t love me?’

  Before she had a chance to say anything else, Anderson said, ‘Thank God for the boys. We are truly blessed.’ Looking around him at the familiar faces, those he supposedly knew best – loved the most – Anderson realised he was with the wrong people.

  He resolved there and then, never to make that mistake again.

  Epilogue

  Hussain and Adey had managed to get table seats. With broad grins, they watched the train pull out of the station.

  Winning always felt good. Still hadn’t sunk in.

  But they would miss Anderson. Quite a guy.

  Hussain spotted Mr and Mrs Granger coming through the carriage looking for their seats.

  Seeing them and remembering their loss, then his own, had a sobering effect on Hussain.

  Mr Granger stopped. Embarrassed and unable to make eye contact, he said, ‘Thank you.’ Then: ‘I’m sorry. We just needed to know what happened.’

  Hussain was choked. He stood up to address him. ‘I know, Mr Granger. You have nothing to apologise for. I understand your loss. I really do.’

  ‘I know. Detective Inspector Taylor told me. I’m sorry.’

  Hussain smiled ruefully. ‘I think we both have to try and move on now, don’t we?’ He paused, then: ‘What else can we do?’

  Granger nodded, then set off down the carriage after his wife.

  ‘This seat taken?’

  ‘No,’ replied Adey, before realising that John Anderson was sitting down beside her.

  ‘I’ve been thinking,’ he said. ‘Anderson & Hussain sounds better, don’t you agree?’

  ‘Maybe,’ conceded Hussain, his face beaming. ‘What made you change your mind? A run-down solicitor’s office in Rusholme is a big comedown from a barristers’ chambers.’

  Taking Adey’s hand in his, Anderson replied, ‘I like the staff.’

  Adey squeezed tightly.

  Hussain chuckled. He approved.

  Anderson gazed out of the window at the jumbled buildings of Camden flashing by as the train sped out of the city. Senses heightened after the monotony of prison, he had to close his eyes to savour the moment. Only the comforting rattle of the train forging onwards and the warmth of Adey’s hand.

  He felt a new emotion.

  Contentment.

  Hussain’s voice broke in: ‘By the way, you never told us whose signature was on the document?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Adey. ‘Was it someone very important?’

  Anderson didn’t reply.

  ‘Come on,’ pressed Hussain. ‘Just between us? Whose career did you save?’

  Eventually, eyes still closed, he replied, ‘In confidence?’

  ‘Of course,’ Hussain replied.

  ‘A junior minister. Stephen Anderson. My brother.’

  ‘What?’ Hussain and Adey replied in unison.

  Anderson opened his eyes. ‘A chip off the old block.’