by Roberta Kray
Chapter Forty-seven
Jo sipped her tea and gazed out across the Green. It was early but already the grass was bathed in sunlight. Above, the sky was a clear pale blue. This was the hottest June she could remember in years and today was going to be another scorcher. She watched as the locals made their way towards the station, the men dressed for the most part in shirt-sleeves, the women in light cotton dresses. They all walked more slowly than usual as if drinking up the rays of the sun before they were locked away inside their offices and shops.
She would normally have been preparing for work too but had decided on Wednesday evening that she would have the break she’d intended to take and not go in for a couple of days. A late call to Meg, along with a suitable bribe, had secured her the necessary cover. She was not exactly avoiding Jacob and Deborah but had no immediate desire to see them either. It would be best to give the dust some time to settle.
She had spent all yesterday in the small back garden, mulling things over and waiting for a call from Emerson. It was a call that had never come. She had phoned him twice but only got his answering service. It had seemed pointless to leave a message; if there had been any news he would have let her know.
Surely the point must have been reached by now where the police would have to charge Gabe or release him? The prospect of the former sent a jolt of alarm through her. What if she was forced to stand up in court and repeat her lies? If he was found guilty – and innocent men did go to jail – the future wouldn’t look too bright for her either. It was a selfish thought, she knew, but one she was unable to avoid.
Jo was still stunned by the act she had committed. If someone had told her a week ago that she would voluntarily lie to the police and provide a false alibi for a suspected murderer, she would have laughed in their face. She had always considered herself a law-abiding citizen; her worst trespasses against society consisted of the occasional speeding fine and a parking ticket or two. And yet she had gone through with it. She hadn’t just agreed to provide an alibi but had actually held her nerve and done it.
Suddenly, she found herself harking back to the words Mrs Dark had uttered last Sunday, something about a change having occurred. And Jo felt the stirrings of that change deep inside her. It was only seven days since Silver Delaney had been snatched but in that time she felt as if her life had been significantly altered. It was not just connected to Gabe Miller and the girl but to Peter as well.
The revelation about how he had helped the widow and child of Leonard Kearns seemed to raise as many questions as it answered. It was the secrecy that continued to bemuse her. That Peter wouldn’t choose to flaunt the financial arrangement was understandable, but why he should keep her in such complete and utter ignorance of it was a mystery. He had never once mentioned that he’d known Constance’s husband, never mind that the man had worked for his father. There was more to this story, she was certain, but how could she uncover it?
Jo finished her tea as she ran through the options. Jacob, she suspected, wouldn’t tell her any more than he already had and she couldn’t bring herself to ask Deborah. Carla was no good: if she’d known about Leonard Kearns, she’d have had some notion of why Jacob might have been talking to Constance outside the shop. Tony was her best chance – he must have brushed shoulders with most of his father’s employees – but she rapidly dismissed that idea too. He would reveal nothing useful without consulting his mother first. He was too dependent on her, too vulnerable to her spite and displeasure. If Jo wanted the truth, she would have to go straight to the top – and it was better if Ruby Strong didn’t have any warning about what she wanted to discuss.
Another hour passed before she decided it was a respectable time to ring. By then most of the workers had cleared the Green. Only a few stragglers, a couple of dog walkers and an elderly woman remained. Jo stared at the thin grey-haired woman who was sitting on a bench. She had a disturbing vision of herself in fifty years’ time, still here, still looking out of the same window, wondering where her life had gone.
She smartly moved away and picked up the phone. As she punched in the number, however, she was assailed by doubt. She stopped and hung up. Was she getting this out of all proportion? Maybe she was using the Kearns business as some kind of distraction, as a way to temporarily free her mind from the possible fate of poor Silver Delaney. Or maybe that was just cowardice talking. If she wanted to secure an interview with the matriarch from hell, she was going to have to be less than honest over the phone and there were bound to be repercussions when the true reason for her visit emerged.
Jo stood up straight, pushed her shoulders back and frowned. She had been cowed by Peter’s mother for long enough. Sod it! She picked up the receiver again. She’d had enough of secrets, of being manipulated. She had a right to the truth and if that meant a little dishonesty along the way, then so be it. If she could blatantly deceive the police, she could tell a few white lies to Ruby Strong.
In the event, she didn’t need to – at least not immediately. It was Mrs Dark who answered the call. They exchanged the usual mundane pleasantries before Jo asked to speak to Ruby.
‘Just a moment.’
The phone went down with a clink against what she presumed was the glass-topped table in the hall. Jo spent the next few minutes tapping her fingers against her thigh and listening to the silence at the other end of the line.
Eventually there was the sound of life again, a brief clearing of the throat before Mrs Dark spoke: ‘I’m afraid Mrs Strong is unavailable at present. Could I take a message?’
Jo raised her eyes to the ceiling. Unavailable? The old witch was hardly a captain of industry. She was either having breakfast or just deliberately avoiding her. Having already decided that it wouldn’t be wise to mention the name of Leonard Kearns before they were sitting face-to-face, Jo said: ‘Yes, er, there’s something important I need to discuss about the business. If she’s free this morning, about eleven, I’d like to call round. Would that be convenient?’
This time the phone didn’t go down. A hand was simply placed across the receiver and muffled words were exchanged. The wait was much shorter. ‘Hello? Yes, Mrs Strong will look forward to seeing you at eleven.’
‘Thank you,’ Jo said. As she hung up, she knew what Ruby must be thinking – that she’d had a change of heart about selling the shop. Well, she was going to be disappointed.
It was getting on for ten-fifteen when Jo shut the front door behind her and climbed into the car. She patted the wheel affectionately. Carla was always going on about ‘upgrading’, about buying something ‘more suitable’ but the blue Renault Clio suited her just fine. It might not be the biggest or the flashiest car in the world but it had served her well over the past few years. Anyway, it was easy to park and that was a mighty plus in London. As she reversed out of the drive, she noticed the white Mondeo still sitting on the street and made a mental note to call John Harris later.
The traffic, as always, was heavy but this morning she didn’t mind the endless stop-and-starts. She was in no hurry and it gave her time to ponder on what she was going to say. She had the feeling that no matter how sensitively she approached the subject, her enquiries wouldn’t be welcomed. No one liked to be reminded of their sins – or the sins of their nearest and dearest.
She kept her mobile on until she pulled up outside the house in Canonbury but there were no incoming calls or messages. This was fortunate perhaps as any bad news at this particular moment would hardly aid her concentration. She needed to be focused, to have her wits about her, if she wanted to get the better of Ruby Strong.
Jo got out of the car and locked it. She automatically glanced down, checking her clothes for creases and wondering if she was suitably dressed. She despised herself for doing it but the habit, so long engrained, was a hard one to break.
Mrs Dark answered the door with one of her thin enigmatic smiles. ‘Good morning. If you’d like to come through, Mrs Strong is in the conservatory.’
‘Th
ank you.’ Jo tried not to let her surprise show. She had expected to be received, as was the norm, in the dim and drab reception room. The prospect hadn’t been appealing. She found herself relieved that, no matter how badly the interview went, she would be spared those seemingly endless visions of the victims of Waterloo.
Jo followed Mrs Dark to the back of the house, their journey uninterrupted by any further conversation. As soon as they had reached their destination, the older woman turned, gave a brief nod and withdrew.
The conservatory was a grand construction, its interior filled with a lush selection of palms, ferns and exotic orchids. Ruby was standing by the open doors leading to the garden. She was dressed in her trademark black, her only concession to the heat being that the well-tailored suit was made of a fine silky material. Despite her bulk, she moved quickly towards Jo and clasped both her hands.
‘How lovely to see you again, dear!’
It was the most effusive welcome Jo had ever received. Well, at least since Peter had died. Back in the early days of her marriage, her mother-in-law had usually made an effort – if not an especially fulsome one – to be pleasant.
Ruby gestured towards the wide bamboo chairs and they both sat down. The chairs with their plump dark green cushions were more comfortable than they looked.
‘You’ll take tea?’
‘Thank you.’
In the confidence that she wouldn’t be late, a silver tray had already been placed on the low table. The best china was out, a delicate porcelain with a trailing pattern of ivy. As Ruby poured, Jo watched and tried to find a word for the expression on her face. Gleeful was the one that sprang most readily to mind. She was clearly convinced that victory was near, that her son’s upstart widow was finally about to throw in the towel.
Jo added a splash of milk to her tea and raised the cup to her lips. Ruby wouldn’t be happy at what she had to say but there was no going back now. And there was no reason for her to be afraid of this bullying, spiteful woman. If she took offence, so be it. There were questions that needed to be answered.
She put down her cup, took a deep breath and looked over at Ruby again. Immediately all her good intentions, along with her courage, began to drain away. Perhaps she was not quite as ready for this challenge as she thought. Confrontation, of any kind, made her feel faintly sick. She had barely recovered from that awful scene with Jacob and now … Coward! her inner voice taunted as she turned her head and gazed out across the garden.
‘What beautiful roses!’
But Ruby was too impatient to indulge in idle chit-chat. As if preparing to gather the glad tidings, she leaned forward and lifted her hands to within a few inches of her ample bosom. ‘So, Josephine, you wish to discuss the business.’
‘Er, in a way,’ she replied cautiously.
Ruby waited, her eyes shining, her lips slightly apart. When Jo didn’t continue, she reached across and patted her kindly on the knee. ‘Come along,’ she urged, ‘there’s no need to be shy. We’re family, aren’t we? You can speak freely. Sometimes hard decisions have to be made and there’s no reason, no reason at all, why you should continue to be tied to the past. I can understand why you chose to take on such a responsibility – it was admirable, truly it was – but you’re entitled to a fresh start, to a life of your own.’
Jo realised that she was mistaking her reticence for embarrassment at having to backtrack on her rather publicly declared statements about Ruby’s at Sunday lunch. What did she think had happened in the intervening five days? That she’d undergone a sudden revelation, had a miraculous change of heart, or that Mrs Dark whispering in her ear had persuaded her to take the money and run? It was time to put her right.
‘Well, to be honest, it’s really more to do with your business.’
‘Mine? Whatever do you mean?’ Ruby’s smile wavered for a second but was soon re-established. She was a true pro. Although she sensed there could be trouble looming, she would retain her mask until she was absolutely sure of what she was dealing with.
Jo took another breath and offered up a silent prayer. Please God, let me hold my nerve. She had spent too many years pandering to Ruby Strong; she had to start standing up for herself, for what she believed in. And she could find that courage, couldn’t she? ‘Actually, it’s about a man who used to work for you – or rather for your husband. His name was Leonard Kearns.’
Ruby visibly flinched and the smile disappeared for good. ‘Kearns?’ she repeated, tilting her head and frowning slightly as if trying to place the name. ‘I’m not sure if I …’
A valiant effort but Jo knew she was faking. She had caught her off-guard and she quickly pressed home the advantage. ‘I understand he died rather tragically in Burma, about twelve years ago. He was on a business trip with your husband.’ She maintained a pleasant, non-accusatory tone to her voice while she kept her eyes fixed firmly on Ruby’s face. It was gratifying to note that it had gone rather pale. There was no glee now, only a harsh, unfriendly wariness. ‘At least that’s what I was told. Or was I misinformed?’
Ruby gave a casual shrug, unwilling to either confirm or deny it. She was playing for time, still undecided as to how big a problem this was. ‘I don’t quite see where this is leading.’
The sun was still shining through the glass but there was a definite chill in the air. Jo twisted her hands in her lap, pretending to feel awkward. Incredibly, she didn’t feel awkward at all; her misgivings had disappeared at the very same moment as her hostess’s smile. Now she was driven by a growing determination. She would get to the bottom of this mystery – whatever it took.
‘Ah,’ Jo sighed, forcing her mouth to twist down at the corners. ‘This is rather difficult.’
‘It’s all right, dear, you can talk to me.’
‘Thank you. You’re very kind. It’s just … well … as you must be aware, Peter was providing Constance Kearns with a—’ She stopped and sighed again. ‘What shall I call it? A regular income, an allowance? And naturally I don’t begrudge her that – she has a son to raise and Peter clearly thought that she deserved some compensation – but as Leonard was actually employed by your husband rather than mine …’
Ruby’s eyes narrowed into slits. ‘What exactly are you trying to say?’
‘Only that I’m … I’m a bit confused as to why the payments shouldn’t be shared between us.’
There was a short tense silence while Ruby thought about it. It didn’t take her long to come up with an answer. She sat back and barked out her reply: ‘Oh, I see. So this is what it’s all about. Money!’
‘No, it’s not just—’
‘Do you really imagine that Mitchell would have shirked his legal responsibilities to any employee?’
‘Of course not,’ Jo said. She was tempted to ask about his moral responsibilities but wisely bit down on her tongue. ‘I wasn’t suggesting that.’
‘She was paid what she was due, more than she was due in fact.’
But Jo stood her ground. Something had changed in her recently and she was no longer prepared to accept whatever Ruby told her. Her new-found temerity was faintly unsettling even to herself. Finding the boldness to go up against her mother-in-law was something she had never anticipated but now that she had started, there could be no backing down. ‘I’m just a bit confused as to why Peter decided that it wasn’t enough.’
Ruby snorted. ‘He was always a soft touch; he never could resist a sob story – or a pretty face.’ She looked Jo up and down as if she fell into a similar category. ‘She came begging and he couldn’t say no.’
‘So you think I should stop paying her?’
‘That’s your decision.’
‘Right.’
Jo sat back too as if she was genuinely considering it. From the second she had seen that initial reaction, that flinching, she had suspected she was on to something. In anyone else she would have put it down to a sense of shame – the treatment of Leonard Kearns’ dependents had been truly callous – but Ruby was incapable of
such an emotion.
‘So I take it we’ve finished here?’ Ruby said, suddenly eager to be rid of her. She lumbered to her feet, glancing at her watch. ‘I have a lunch appointment and I don’t wish to be late.’
Jo stood up too. With no actual evidence of any legal wrongdoing, she would have to take a gamble or she’d be going home as ignorant as when she arrived. It was now or never. With Ruby convinced that she had got the upper hand, that the subject was closed, there couldn’t be a better time to strike.
‘I have to say I’m a little surprised by your attitude …’ Jo paused for effect, deliberately lowering her voice, ‘… after what happened.’
That pulled her mother-in-law up short. Two red spots flared on Ruby’s cheeks. For once she was speechless; her mouth opened but then closed again, her tongue nervously snaking out to moisten her thin, dry lips.
‘The problem with secrets,’ Jo continued, ‘is that they usually come out in the end. The past has a habit of catching up.’ She was working blind and her only hope of success lay in implying that she knew more than she did.
‘I-I have no idea what you’re talking about.’
‘Do you really think Peter didn’t tell me?’ Jo made an exasperated sound in the back of her throat. ‘I was his wife, for God’s sake.’
It was a shot in the dark but it hit home. There was a short, stunned silence as panic swept over Ruby. The blood drained from the flesh, bleaching her face white. ‘I’d like you to leave,’ she hissed.
‘What’s the matter? The truth too hard to handle? Well, Peter certainly struggled with it.’ Something had instinctively clicked into place in Jo’s head, a direct connection between what had occurred and his relentless nightmares. She could hardly believe that she was going up against Ruby – but it was too late to backtrack now. Having finally managed to find the strength to confront her, she had to stand her ground. ‘Do you have any idea of what it did to him?’
