by Jane Isaac
“You too. Thanks for coming over, especially while you are still on leave.”
He shrugged. “Some things are important. How are things in Leicester?” he asked as they walked up the road together.
“Much the same. The incident room has wound down. The Super’s swanning around on the PR train after the thwarted terrorist attack. She can barely get her head through the doorway at the moment.”
Jackman gave a wry smile. When news of a house raid uncovered bomb-making equipment in Leicester City, the week before Christmas, it made national news. He’d watched Carmela on the television, making a statement to the press, thanking her officers for the work that had gone on behind the scenes to safeguard the community of Leicester once more. Her convincing smile and smooth tone reminded him of a politician.
“What about my replacement?”
“DCI Steve Morrison from West Mids is heading up the review team.”
“Don’t think I know him.”
“Very intense. Barely talks to any of us unless he wants something. Thick as thieves with the Super though.”
“Any findings on Operation Ascott?”
“Not as far as I’m aware.”
“And no more attacks?”
She shook her head.
“Did you find anything on that journalist?” Jackman asked as they reached Grace’s driveway.
“No. He’s a slippery character, I’ll give you that. Always under your feet. But I don’t think he’s involved.”
He felt a sense of déjà vu as he stood on the doorstep and knocked. Grace opened the door almost immediately, inviting them in. She seemed brighter today, fresher. They were just settling into the sofa, Wilson retrieving her notebook when a tall woman walked through with the offer of drinks.
Wilson eyed her suspiciously and turned to Grace. “Sorry, I didn’t realise you had visitors. We can always come back at a more convenient time?”
“There’s no need,” Grace said. She introduced Faye as a close family friend.
The detectives agreed to coffees and Jackman waited for Faye to leave the room before he sat forward. “How are you, Grace?”
“As well as can be expected.”
“As you know, we’ve come out to see you today to give you an update on your attack, twenty years ago. Sergeant Wilson has been looking into it for you.”
Wilson nodded. “We’ve analysed historical records. Unfortunately the computer system wasn’t as sophisticated as it is now, so it’s taken a while. But we have found records of three other reported incidents, two in Derbyshire and one in Nottinghamshire, within months of yours. They were all stranger attacks, the offender wore a balaclava, made off on a motorbike and two of them report that same menthol smell, like that of a Consulate cigarette, which seems quite significant. We think it’s the same man, a Martin Walker. Does that name mean anything to you?”
Grace shook her head.
“That’s not surprising. He was traced after the second Derbyshire incident and charged with two offences of rape. Neither of the women claimed to know him. He served fourteen years in prison.”
Fear spiked Grace’s chest. “Where is he now?”
“He died in a motorcycle accident three years ago.”
Grace let out a huge breath. “You really think it’s the same man that attacked me?”
“Without a DNA match, we can’t be completely sure, but it seems most likely. We have DNA taken from the other victims. We could see if it matched with Jo’s,” Wilson said. “If you want to be completely sure?”
“He wasn’t involved in Jo’s murder?”
“It doesn’t appear so.”
“Then there’s no point in doing the test.” Grace sat back in her chair. Deep down, she knew the answer to Jo’s parentage. But seeing it confirmed in black and white would somehow soil her memory.
The door swung open and Faye entered with a tray of mugs, a plate of biscuits rattling on the side. “Do you have any news on Jo’s case?” Grace asked as she set about handing the mugs around.
There was a slight pause. “We don’t have anything new, I’m afraid,” Wilson said gently. “But I can tell you the case is being looked at by an external review team.”
“What does that mean?” Grace winced as the coffee burnt her lip.
“A new team has come in to take a fresh look at the case.”
“You won’t be working on it anymore?”
“Detective Parsons will still be your contact. And I’ll be assisting them with anything they need.”
“But you’ll be working on other cases?”
“Yes. A fresh pair of eyes will be going over all the evidence though. To make sure nothing has been missed.”
“And if they don’t find anything?”
“Then we will continue to appeal for new evidence.”
“So, they’re scaling down the investigation?”
“Not exactly. Some of us have also been allocated other cases to run alongside. But Jo’s file will be kept open. And I can assure you, if anything new comes to light we’ll be straight on it.”
***
Phil arrived home from work that evening to find Grace and Faye ensconced in the kitchen, halfway through a bottle of Chardonnay. “Oh, hello,” he said. He eyed the wine, looked quizzically from one to another. “Are we celebrating something?”
Grace and Faye exchanged a surreptitious glance. “Full moon,” Faye said quickly, raising her glass. “It’s supposed to bring luck this time of year.”
He dropped the files he was carrying on the kitchen side. “Well, we could certainly do with some of that.”
“Would you like tea, or wine?” Grace said, feeling a twinge of guilt at the flush in her cheeks.
“Nothing at the moment. I’m just going to have a lie down. It’s been a heavy day. Have you heard from Lydia?”
“I had a text saying that she’d arrived and there was lots of snow. That was it.”
Phil snorted. “Sounds about right.”
“Maybe we shouldn’t have started so early,” Faye said in a low voice as his heavy footsteps took to the stairs.
Grace muffled a giggle. “Oh, don’t worry about him. He’s often tired when he comes in from work.” But the laughter was short-lived. “I just wish there was some news on Jo’s case,” she said quietly. “I don’t know. The longer this goes on, the more it feels like he’ll never be caught. It’s so cruel.”
Faye rested her glass down. “I know. Perhaps the detective was right and a fresh pair of eyes will bring something new.”
“I do hope so, and soon.”
Chapter Fifty-Three
Grace missed the sound of the phone ringing the following afternoon. It was a couple of hours later, when she was preparing dinner, Faye sitting at the table browsing old copies of Good Housekeeping, that she heard it ring again.
“Grace!” Chloe sounded worried. “I wondered where you were.”
“I’ve been here all day. Is something wrong?”
“It’s Dad. He was taken ill at work. They had to send for an ambulance.”
“What? How is he?”
“He’s stable. In a room in A&E, while they monitor him. They think he’s had a heart attack.” Her voice splintered.
“Oh my God!” Grace drew a ragged breath. “Where are you now?”
“At the hospital. The shop called me when they couldn’t get hold of you. I’ve left Meggy with our neighbour.”
“I’ll be there right away.”
It wasn’t until she ended the call that she glanced down and saw the lights flashing on the answerphone. She dashed to the kitchen, grabbed her mobile off the side. The screen was blank. She stared at it a moment, perplexed. She always left her phone on charge each night.
***
The car park was full as Grace turned into the Leicester Royal Infirmary later that evening and she had to drive around the back to the overflow to find a space. Her hands trembled as she crossed the tarmac. Faye, who’d insisted on coming along
to support her, guided her into the hospital.
From the moment she’d taken the phone call earlier, a million thoughts had reverberated around her head. Phil was such a strong man. So rational, ordered, fit. How could this happen? She tried to look back over the past month, searching for signs that something might be wrong. But as much as she pulled on her memories she couldn’t find any. He’d been under immense stress after losing Jo. They all had been. But he was always such a calming influence. She couldn’t lose him as well.
Chloe was sitting on a plastic seat just inside the entrance. She stood as they approached and hugged Grace tightly. “He’s out of danger,” Chloe said. “They’ve moved him to the coronary care unit. I thought I’d come and wait for you while they get him settled.”
“What happened, Chloe? What have they said?”
“He’d been struggling to breathe all morning apparently, kept rubbing his neck, saying it was hot, but refused to admit it was anything serious. His assistant manager was making arrangements to send him home when he doubled up with chest pains. They sent for an ambulance. They’d already done an ECG when I arrived which showed signs of at least one attack. They think there’s possibly been another since. The cardiac nurse said he’s been very lucky. They’re doing a scan, to assess the damage. I’ve been trying to call your mobile.”
“It doesn’t seem to be working.” Grace covered her face with her hands. She couldn’t believe she’d missed all of this.
Chloe took a deep breath and dabbed her eyes with a tissue. “I need to get back to Meggy. Matt’s working away.”
“Of course.”
“I’ll show you to the ward.” She paused, looked across at Faye. “You won’t be able to come in, I’m afraid. It’s family only. I can give you a lift back?”
“I’m happy to grab a seat here and wait.”
“No, you go,” Grace said to Faye. “I may be here a while.”
Anxiety pressed on Grace as she reached the coronary care unit and they bade their goodbyes. Chloe passed over her own mobile, insisting she had a spare at home, so that they could stay in touch.
She passed the desk and made her way through to a room with glass windows that overlooked the corridor. In the short time they’d been married, Phil had always been so robust, yet today, propped up in bed, a road map of wires connected to the stickers on his chest, he looked fragile. Her stomach knotted as she plastered what she hoped would be a warm smile on her face and rushed to his side.
“How are you feeling?”
He gave a weak smile. “Been better. Any news of when they’ll let me out? They’re not telling me anything.”
“Not just yet, love. They need to do some more tests.”
“I’m sorry. This was the last thing you needed.”
She took his hand. It felt alien to touch him, awkward. She suddenly became aware that they hadn’t touched in a while. Those little pecks on the cheek, shoulder nudges sitting next to each other on the sofa, the softness of an embrace, they all seemed to have disappeared these past few weeks. How could that have happened?
“It’s all going to be fine, darling.” He patted her forearm with his free hand. “I’ll be out of here in no time. You’ll see.”
Grace swallowed back the threatening tears, forced herself to nod.
She unpacked the clothes she’d pulled together for him, put them away neatly in the cupboard and chattered idly about home life, what Lucky did at the park that morning, anything to avoid discussing the medical details.
“Thanks for bringing this stuff in,” he said.
Grace smiled. She was just about to say Faye had helped, but stopped short as she was reminded of Lydia’s words. Phil had never said he didn’t like Faye, but her presence in the house clearly affected Lydia. Maybe it cast a shadow over him too? She didn’t want to say anything that might agitate him. Not now.
“Is there anyone you want me to call?” Grace asked.
Phil shook his head. “Chloe knows. Work are aware. Don’t mention it to Lydia. I don’t want her to worry while she’s away. Oh, and please don’t tell Ged,” he continued. “She’ll only fly over and make a fuss. Let’s leave that for when we know what we’re dealing with, eh?”
“I’ll cook for you,” Grace said, not wishing to dwell on the ‘what we’re dealing with’ part. “Save you having to eat the food here. What would you like?”
“Don’t go to any trouble.”
“I want to.”
They spent the next twenty or so minutes discussing their favourite dishes that she could adapt to bring portions into the hospital. The triviality of the conversation eased the atmosphere between them and Grace sensed a closeness to him that she hadn’t felt for some time.
By the time the bell sounded to announce the end of visiting time, she wrapped her arms around him, amidst the wires, and pecked him on the cheek easily.
As she wandered down the corridor, Grace made a mental list of things she could do to make to make life easier for Phil. He would need a period of recuperation. She’d take care of him when he came home, make sure he was happy, not stressed at all, keep him safe. It was the least she could do.
Perhaps it was now time for Faye to move back home. She hadn’t mentioned her boiler over the past couple of days, but there had been so many distractions it wasn’t surprising. Yes, when the time was right Phil should come home to his family. Faye would understand that.
***
Faye was sitting on the stairs when Grace arrived home that evening. “You startled me!” Grace said as she unbuttoned her coat and kicked off her shoes. The keys rattled as she tossed them into the dish on the hall table.
“I heard the car engine. How is he? I’ve been worried sick.”
Grace slumped onto the step beside her. “Out of danger. But… I don’t know. He looked so pale.”
“His body’s been through a lot. It’s bound to take a while.” Faye moved forward to embrace her, but Grace stood. “Tea?”
“Sure.”
Grace relayed the hospital visit as she made the drinks, the words spilling out of her mouth, running into each other. “Thank God Lydia’s not here to see this. I’ll have to tell her when she gets home. What with losing her own dad so young, and Jo. She thinks the world of Phil.”
“He’s going to be okay though, isn’t he?”
Grace placed the mugs on the table and eased herself into her seat. “I think so. He’ll need to slow down. Take it easy for a while.”
“You look worn out.”
“It’s just the shock.” Something itched inside Grace, she couldn’t sit still. Instead she pulled a couple of cookery books from the shelf, placed them on the table. The pages squeaked as she started to flick through them. “I’m going to prepare some meals to take in for him,” she said. “He’ll feel better if he gets something nice to eat. Something home cooked.”
“Sounds like a good plan. Hospital food is the worst.”
Grace leafed through a few more pages, browsing the different dishes. “Any news?” she asked without looking up.
“On what?”
“Your boiler.”
“Oh, that. I spoke to the plumbers this morning. They seem to be getting on well. A bit more work to do but they’re really pleased with how it’s going in.”
Grace lifted her eyes. “That’s great.”
“Yeah.”
“You’ll be able to move back soon then?” Faye looked momentarily taken aback. “Only I think we’ll need the sofa when Phil comes home. It might be a week or so before he can climb the stairs.”
“Of course. I’ll get my things together.”
Chapter Fifty-Four
The first thing Grace saw when she arrived home from the hospital the following afternoon was Faye’s bag in the hall. Her stomach dipped. There was talk of releasing Phil in the next few days. She so wanted the house to be ready for him.
“Hello?” she called up the stairs. There was no reply. Something didn’t feel right. She peered int
o the front room, which was empty, and crossed through to the kitchen. Suddenly she realised what it was. Lucky wasn’t in her basket. Assuming she’d gone out through the cat flap, she unlocked the back door and leant out into the garden, opening her mouth to call the dog when the sound of the gate clicked. Faye appeared with Lucky on a lead. The dog wagged her tail and jumped up at Grace.
“Hello, you!” Faye said. “I thought I’d do the dog walk. Give you one less job to do.”
Grace ignored the irritation creeping under her skin, said thank you and moved aside to let her in. “I wasn’t sure I’d see you.”
“I haven’t finished packing yet. Thought I might leave it until tomorrow, if that’s okay?”
“It’s not, I’m afraid. I’m sorry. I’m picking Lydia up in an hour and I wanted an evening together tonight, just the two of us, so I could go through everything with her.”
“Well if it’s a problem-”
“Are the plumbers not finished?”
She shifted her shoulders. “They’ve had a hiccup, that’s all.”
“Oh.” For a short moment Grace was tempted to ask her to stay, just for another couple of nights. But it had already been over a week and she needed to give priority to her family right now. “I’m sorry.”
Faye turned away. “It’s fine. I’ll get my stuff together.”
***
Hail cascaded from the sky when Grace returned with Lydia later that evening, little needles bouncing off the bonnet of the car as they pulled into the driveway. After an initial discussion about Phil’s health woes, which Grace played down, Lydia had barely drawn breath since filling the boot with her bags, regaling tales of learning to ski, midnight parties, and teachers singing at karaoke. She’d said more in that short car journey than she had in the last few weeks and it was heartening to see her so happy.
Grace cut the engine. The lights flashed as she extinguished them.
“Whoa. Now I see why you’re using Phil’s car.” Lydia said.
“I told you, I just wanted to give it a run.”
“And you pranged yours.”
“What are you talking about?” Grace switched the lights back on, illuminating the driveway in front of her. The dent in the nearside rear bumper of her car was surrounded by scratches, the white primer paintwork showing through. “Someone must have hit it in the hospital car park this afternoon, you’d have thought they’d have left a note!”
