A Stranger's House

by Clare Chase

  ‘I’ll go up to my room,’ Nate said. ‘Give you some space. The last thing you need is me mucking you around, as well as everything else.’

  Shit. He’d be regretting his decision to move into River House now. And there was no way I could turn back the clock.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Nate couldn’t believe he’d allowed it to happen. He’d been caught off guard – laid into the wine too enthusiastically. But he knew what the after-effects of adrenaline were like. He should have guarded against it. Hell.

  And how would it seem to Ruby now? He’d basically insisted on moving in with her, then made a pass at her, all in one day, for God’s sake. Nice one, Nate. And now, he couldn’t think how to handle it. She didn’t have anywhere to go, and to chuck her out after what he’d done would be totally wrong. But equally if he now decided he had to leave, he’d be abandoning her because of his own selfish actions.

  Nate wondered for a second about asking Jane Trask to come and take his place. She was on another job at the moment, but he could swap with her. Or he could offer to pay to put Ruby up in a hotel. Which of course, she’d never accept, so pointless even raising it, except for show.

  He was going round in circles. He’d kissed her – and she’d kissed him back. But he’d plied her with wine beforehand, she’d had practically no food all day, probably precious little sleep in the last thirty-six hours and the shock of Newbold’s death to deal with. He’d seen her reaction to the idea of him moving in. It wasn’t the one of someone secretly hankering after him. No. She’d just kissed him back because of the state she was in.

  Shit.

  There were no sexy dreams for me that night. I tried to push the incident out of my head but it was impossible. A terrible, creeping embarrassment weighed in my chest. In Nate’s mind I was no doubt the desperate lady, abandoned by her partner and on the prowl for fresh meat. Hey, subconsciously I was probably looking for someone to father a child for me, too. Great that he knew that little detail. And when it came down to it, I couldn’t rely on my feelings. Luke and I might be washed up, but I’d still been crying over him that very day, after I’d spoken to Steph on the phone. Basically, I was all over the place. And the most humiliating thing of all was that I was now staying in River House thanks to Nate’s charity, and performing no useful function. How he must be wishing I’d got somewhere else to go. I know I was.

  I wasn’t sure what time Nate had had breakfast, but I didn’t clap eyes on him during the hour I sat at the kitchen table. A little later, when I was up in the attic, he called from the landing to say he was off to fetch Samson Newbold.

  I decided to get outside for some fresh air whilst I’d got the chance, and my feelings were instantly put into perspective. I bumped into Fi, standing beside Oswald House, smoking a cigarette. The squally weather whipped at her curly hair, blowing it across the lighted end, so that she had to tug it out of the way. She looked momentarily guilty when she saw me watching her. ‘I don’t really smoke any more,’ she said, ‘but the last twenty-four hours have made a temporary relapse very appealing.’ She looked at me. ‘It’s been appalling.’

  ‘I can hardly begin to imagine. How’s Emily?’

  ‘Completely crazed. God it was awful when the police told her. She went totally silent and white for a moment and then she ran out of the room. We could all hear her throwing up. She only made it as far as the hallway.’ She took another deep drag and offered to pass the cigarette over to me, but I shook my head. ‘Whilst the police were there, she just sat staring into space. She managed to answer their questions, but she sounded as though she was in a trance.’ She looked at me, her eyes wide with remembering. ‘I tried to help her get cleaned up, before the interview began, but there were still bits of sick in her hair.’

  ‘How were the police? Were they sensitive?’

  She exhaled. ‘As much as they could be, I guess. They had to do the telling, of course, but that was out of the way pretty quickly. They really wanted to talk to her because she’d called Damien Newbold’s work; tried to find out where he was hiding. It was clear they were wondering about her as a possible suspect. After they’d let her go upstairs to rest they asked me more about their relationship. What did I know? How acrimonious had it really been? How had Emily reacted when Damien went away? Basically whether I’d felt the balance of her mind had been upset. I suppose that was what they were getting at.’

  She raised her eyes to mine. ‘It’s funny, isn’t it? Makes you realise how economical we are with the truth, most of the time. I could imagine answering exactly the same questions, from – oh, I don’t know – one of the college tutors, say, who was checking up on Em’s well-being, and I’d have had all the right patter to allay their concerns. I’d easily have smoothed everything over and made it seem like nothing. And that would have felt like the right thing to do, too. After all, I know Emily’s just been going through a bad crush, and that she’d have got over it in her own sweet time.’ She leant back against the wall of the house. ‘But you can’t do that when it’s the police asking, can you? Suddenly you know you’ve got to tell the truth, warts and all. And I did, and it sounded awful. Telling it, in cold blood like that, made her sound capable of anything.’

  ‘I think it’s the way the police ask their questions. I felt they suspected me too and it took me completely by surprise. They were very suspicious about the last-minute way I got this job, and the fact I hadn’t done any house-sitting before.’

  She stubbed the cigarette out against a brick. ‘Crazy, isn’t it? When it comes down to it, life’s just like that. Sometimes things do happen in a haphazard way.’

  I nodded. ‘And as for Emily, the police must be aware of how intense teenage crushes can be. It’s just a stage.’

  ‘You’re right, but I’m still worried they suspect her.’

  ‘I’m sure there are lots of people higher up their list.’

  ‘Having known Damien, I expect you’re right,’ Fi replied. ‘I still feel like a proper little Judas though.’ She took out another cigarette. ‘I’ll tell you something. I’d swear Emily never did get hold of his address. She’d have told me if she had; everything’s coming straight out with her at the moment.’

  Back inside I tried to put the thought of Emily out of my head for the time being. I needed to focus on the meeting with Samson Newbold. That and how I was going to manage to behave normally round Nate.

  The clothes I’d brought with me were just those I could fit into my rucksack and a small holdall, so I hadn’t got much of a repertoire. It was a cooler day so I could put on something more formal without overheating. I grabbed a jersey dress and went off in search of an iron. If I could just get him to think Nate and I were best cut out to mind the house, then I could put off the evil hour when I had to make my next move.

  I looked at myself in one of the long mirrors on the landing and hastily took out the extra earrings Steph had disapproved of. Now a sombre woman – neat and reliable – looked back at me.

  Nate couldn’t look at Ruby as she opened the door of River House, which meant he watched Samson Newbold instead. Unlike him, Samson had no trouble meeting her eye. He didn’t try to disguise the nature of his up-and-down look either; his tongue was practically hanging out. Nate had intended to give Ruby as wide a berth as possible; he still couldn’t believe how he’d lost control the day before. All the same, it was instinctive to put himself between her and Samson to perform the introductions.

  Newbold junior had a drinker’s face: the whites of his eyes were veined with red, his nose had the telltale discoloration, and he’d gained weight that his elder sibling had managed to avoid.

  Nate saw Ruby battle the urge to flinch, as the murdered man’s brother came within a few inches of her. The smell of stale alcohol and cigarettes hung in the air.

  He glanced at her for just a second, but she was looking determinedly at the floor. Understandable. If she’d had anywhere else to go she’d probably have walked out of her own accor
d already.

  ‘How funny to be back,’ Samson said, striding into the drawing room as though he owned the place. Which of course he would, very soon. ‘It’s been years.’

  Ruby cast him a questioning glance in response.

  ‘Our guardian helped let the place after our mother died and we got packed off to boarding school,’ Samson explained. ‘Damien made the most awful fuss about it, but he only got stuck there for a year. I had seven. He, I may say, got off lightly.’ He drawled out his words and looked up at her from under his lashes in a horrible parody of coyness.

  ‘I’ve heard some places can be pretty tough,’ Ruby said.

  Nate would have shot her a warning glance, if she’d shown any signs of looking in his direction. She was probing, and that wasn’t part of her role. He cursed inwardly, but, in fact, Samson seemed too wrapped up in himself to notice anything untoward. He raised his eyes to heaven in response to Ruby’s comment about his school.

  ‘Ours was appalling, but unfortunately it was also the alma mater of our guardian, who couldn’t see anything wrong with it at all.’

  ‘It must have been a relief when it was over. I expect it was good to come home again.’ She locked her glance onto Samson’s, smiling as she spoke. Nate supposed it must be automatic with her, trying to get more information. Same journalist’s instinct she’d use when researching her books. Well, she certainly knew how to work Samson, and it worried him to death.

  He watched as the murdered man’s brother wandered round the room, taking in the scene. When he replied, his tone was careless. ‘Oh, but we didn’t come home; not back to Cambridge, I mean. The house stayed let whilst Damien went off to Oxford, and then to the States. He made a lot of money by keeping the place full of tenants. Only came back here when he got the job at TomorrowTech. As for me, this is the third time, precisely, that I’ve been back since I was eleven. I remember attending a party next door, and seeing strangers occupying this place. It felt odd, let me tell you.’

  He looked down at the folding bed set out for Ruby by his brother. ‘So he put you down here,’ he said.

  Something in his tone and the way he looked from the bed to Ruby told Nate exactly what Samson was imagining. He made the effort to unclench his fists.

  ‘Well,’ Samson went on, running a tongue over his full lips, ‘that seems sensible, given the things that are in this room. I’m sorry though; it can’t be all that comfortable.’ He turned to smile at Ruby, and this time she looked away.

  ‘I thought you’d come to that conclusion, too,’ Nate said. ‘Now that I’ve seen the poor quality of the folding bed, I’ve asked Ruby to move upstairs. The contract your brother signed says that all sitters must be provided with a reasonable standard of accommodation.’

  Samson hesitated for a moment, but then shrugged and gave a wry smile. Even if he’d been tempted to argue, it seemed the lure of his future possessions was enough to distract him. He began to walk around from antique to antique. His hand shook slightly when he reached out to touch one of the clocks, putting Nate in mind of a drug addict having his fix dangled in front of him before he’d paid up.

  Then, slowly, Samson manoeuvred into a squatting position to examine something in the treasure cabinet. ‘Good God,’ he said, his eyes watering slightly, ‘I didn’t know old Damien had this.’ It was a large enamelled porcelain vase; Chinese and well over a century old, at a guess, unless it was a good fake. ‘Well, that really is having your cake and eating it,’ Samson murmured, ‘given that it belonged to Nico. I remember it in his London flat. He must have left it to mother when he died.’ He was talking almost to himself. Eyes on the prize. ‘And then Damien got it when she went, along with all the other good stuff. So much for high-minded principles; obviously went for nought when there was something valuable involved.’

  Ruby seemed reluctant to drag herself away, but at last she offered them drinks. Samson agreed to coffee, but was clearly disappointed she hadn’t suggested anything stronger. She glanced over her shoulder as she left the room and made her exit as slow as possible. Once the kettle was on, she hovered in the doorway, rather than waiting whilst it heated.

  They went to the dining room for their drinks. Samson’s eyes lit on a photograph, sitting on the sideboard. ‘Well, well, well!’ he said. ‘I didn’t expect to see Mother staring back at me. Thought he’d thrown all the pictures from that period away.’ He picked up the frame, showing no emotion except surprise. ‘Was this in here when you arrived?’ he asked suddenly, a shrewd look in his eye.

  Ruby paused for a fraction of a second before she replied. ‘Damien asked me to clean for him whilst I was here. He was rather particular about how thorough I needed to be.’ She gave Samson a little smile. ‘I found the photo behind a chest, on the floor in the study, covered in dust. I think it must have fallen down there a while back, and been overlooked.’

  ‘Good of you to rescue it,’ Samson said, looking at her intently. He put the photo back down again. Then, suddenly, he spun round to face Nate. ‘So, we know Ruby can keep house, but what about security here? That’s my concern. Can she hold her own when it comes to protecting the place?’ He was talking about Ruby as though she wasn’t there now.

  Keep house … Nate took a deep breath and consciously leant back against the sideboard. ‘You’re anticipating trouble?’

  ‘Well,’ Samson said, ‘not specifically, of course, but isn’t that why anyone hires a house-sitter? Because of the outside possibility of burglars?’

  ‘Well, yes.’ Nate tried to squash the tone of exaggerated patience out of his voice. ‘You’re right. Because it’s relatively common for empty houses to get broken into. But it’s much less usual when you’ve got someone around for twenty-one hours out of twenty-four. In those circumstances, trouble becomes significantly less likely.’ In theory. Unless there was something Samson wasn’t telling him …

  He looked unconvinced. ‘But then uncommon things do still happen. Look at what’s just befallen my dear, lamented brother.’

  Ruby walked towards Samson. ‘I’m currently dressed for a business meeting,’ she said, folding her arms across her chest. ‘My normal outfit involves jeans and a T-shirt and heavy-duty boots. I can take care of myself and your house. And besides,’ her eyes moved in Nate’s direction for a second, ‘Nate’s decided to spend the nights here too, just to be sure – given what’s happened.’

  Samson’s eyes popped. ‘Well, I hope you don’t imagine you can up your fees for that. I don’t require two of you.’

  Nate saw Ruby flush before she turned and moved towards the window to look out over the Common.

  ‘No extra charge,’ he said. ‘We’re delighted to beef up your protection for free.’

  Samson’s eyes narrowed, but he clearly couldn’t work out whether or not he should take it as a jibe. ‘All right then,’ he said. ‘I’m reasonably satisfied with the arrangements here. I’ll have to run it by the other executor but I’m sure so long as I’m happy, he will be. I’ve got a small bit of business to take care of round the corner. I’ll be back here, ready to go home, in, what, an hour?’ And with that he walked out of the room and let himself out of the house.

  It was a moment before Ruby spoke. ‘What do you think the “business” is?’ She was still looking out of the window, rather than at Nate.

  ‘He’ll have gone to check out the local boozer.’

  ‘Seriously?’

  He nodded. ‘I had an uncle who was an alcoholic. He was just the same if he had to visit anywhere where there was no drink on offer. Always “just had to nip out” somewhere. And Samson’s almost inseparable from the Red Tavern in Newmarket. It was all I could do to drag him over here when he realised he’d miss opening time.’

  Ruby shuddered. ‘The Red Tavern … I can just imagine what sort of a place that must be. Probably full of dirty old men, with lap dancers in the basement.’

  Nate wanted to avoid confrontation but there were limits. ‘Whatever it’s like, it’s none of our
business.’

  Ruby turned to face him at last. He could tell that his sharpness had annoyed her, but he didn’t care. ‘I don’t like the way you’re playing around with this, Ruby; asking your questions, leading him on.’

  ‘Only because the information we get back might pay dividends.’ She held her head high, her green eyes unflinching.

  ‘I’m worried the payback might be of a different sort.’ He walked over to the mantelpiece, to put some distance between them, but then turned to face her again. ‘What did you think of him?’

  ‘He made my skin crawl.’

  ‘Agreed. And why is he so panicky about protecting the house, do you think?’

  ‘Wants to make sure no one else gets their mitts on his nice, new acquisitions.’

  Nate nodded. ‘He certainly seems very aware of their value. So given all that, doesn’t it occur to you that he must be one of the most likely suspects for Damien Newbold’s murder?’

  He caught her give an involuntary shiver. ‘Of course, I knew he must be up there on the list.’

  ‘This isn’t some kind of game, Ruby. If I were you I’d make damned sure he never suspects you’re interested in him and his activities. If he is guilty and thinks for one moment that you’re onto him …’ Nate let the sentence hang. ‘He’s asked for a key to this place – one of the new set – and as he’s an executor I assume I have to give him one, but I don’t like the idea. There’ll be nothing to stop him letting himself in any time he wants. And there’s no knowing whether he – or anyone else – might try to catch one of us on our own. So forgive me if I suggest you let the police get on with their job whilst you get on with yours.’