by Jill McGown
Why were all these people dead?
And let me speak to the yet unknowing world
How these things came about: so shall you hear
Of carnal, bloody and unnatural acts,
Of accidental judgments, casual slaughters,
Of deaths put on by cunning and forced cause,
And, in this upshot, purposes mistook
Fall’n on the inventors’ heads: all this can I
Truly deliver.
Hamlet, Act 5, Scene 2
Eleven weeks previously . . .
Act I
THE ESTERBROOKS
A little more than kin, and less than kind
Hamlet, Act 1, Scene 2
SCENE I – BARTONSHIRE.
Saturday, July 12th, 6.20 a.m.
The en-suite Bathroom of Paul and Elizabeth’s House in Barton.
‘You could come too,’ Paul said, picking up his weekend bag and his dive bag, standing in the bedroom doorway as though half expecting her to change her mind and join him.
Elizabeth looked at his reflection in the mirror, shook her head and carried on applying careful, subtle make-up to her fair skin. Paul liked to imagine that issuing a certain-to-be-declined invitation to join him on his weekend jaunts would allay the deep suspicions that she harboured as to their true purpose, and that calculated risk, that deliberate, taunting challenge, made her angrier than even his constant infidelities did.
‘Why not?’ he persisted. ‘It’s a glorious day – it’s even better in Cornwall, according to the weather forecast. It’ll be like a millpond – I guarantee you won’t be seasick.’
He smiled, the smile that had captured her heart almost in the moment of being introduced to him, but had captured too many others since. Now he was possibly even more handsome than then, and three years ago, when his father had died, he had become chairman of Industrial and Medical Gases Limited, with a salary to match. Women were queuing up, and the only one he had no time for was her.
Anyone listening to this early-morning conversation would find that difficult to believe, but everything was in a code that had evolved over the last eighteen years, a code which only she and Paul truly understood. This little charade was simply a slight variation on the big one that they called their marriage.
‘Spending all weekend watching people jump off a boat into the sea isn’t my idea of fun,’ she said.
Paul went to considerable and, these days, literal lengths to conceal his infidelities; his brother Josh had acquired a boat in the spring, berthed at Penhallin in Cornwall, a six-hour drive away, and Paul’s diving weekends by the sea entailed rising at five-thirty on Saturday mornings. These preparations invariably woke her too, which was why she was up and dressed at this ungodly hour. She found it hard to believe that her husband rose at that time on a Saturday morning just to go diving.
‘We don’t jump off the boat all the time. We eat and drink and enjoy ourselves, and stay in nice places. Maybe when you saw how much fun everyone was having, you’d want to take it up.’ He put the bags down, and went to the phone, going momentarily out of her view. ‘I can give Sandie a ring, say I’ll be a bit late, if you want to come. You could throw some things in a bag – we’d still be there in plenty of time for lunch.’
Sandie? He was taking her with him, was he? ‘Isn’t a mobile PA just a little over the top?’ she asked. ‘Most people settle for a mobile phone.’ He, of course, always left that at home, ostensibly so that he could get away from it all, but in reality to stop her ringing him up and interfering with his pleasure.
He laughed, reappearing in the mirror as he walked to the door again, and picked up his bags. ‘I give her a lift down, that’s all. No point in taking two cars – Stansfield’s on the way. Are you sure you don’t fancy a weekend in Cornwall?’
‘And it just so happens that Sandie’s a diver too, does it?’ she said. ‘That’s quite a coincidence.’
‘No coincidence. That’s how I met her.’ He looked puzzled. ‘I thought I’d told you all this. She’s Josh’s girlfriend.’
‘Josh’s girlfriend?’
‘Well,’ Paul amended, clearly realizing that he had overplayed his hand. ‘She’s a friend of Josh’s who happens to be a girl. I don’t know if there’s any romance there. Anyway, she needed a job, and she seemed bright, and keen, so when the PA job came up, I advised her to apply for it.’
Oh, sure. If Josh had a girlfriend of any sort, Elizabeth would have heard all about it from her mother-in-law, because Josh seemed to have forsworn women since his marriage had broken up. Nothing would please his mother more than to think he might settle down again with someone else, because she was worried that he might return to his old ways without some female influence to keep him steady.
The possibility of nailing this lie at least was too tempting to ignore, because for the story to hang together, Sandie Townsend had to be a diver, and that seemed very unlikely indeed. ‘I think I will go with you after all,’ she said, reaching over for her toilet bag, and flashing a brittle smile at him. ‘No need to ring Sandie – I’ll be five minutes.’
It was worth the prospect of a long, embarrassing journey just to see the look on his face as she spoke the words.
SCENE II – BARTONSHIRE.
Saturday, July 12th, 6.25 a.m.
The Master Bedroom of the House.
Eighteen years. Eighteen years he had been married to the bitch, since she had been a blonde, blue-eyed seventeen-year-old, and she had never shown the slightest interest in diving. That was why he had believed it was safe to invite her along to Josh’s weekends, as he had done religiously since they began. But it wouldn’t surprise him in the least if Elizabeth had put a private detective on to him, and now that he had decided to take Sandie along on his weekend in Cornwall, he had thought it wise to tell Elizabeth about her before anyone else did.
But he had misjudged the situation, because for some reason the mention of Sandie’s name had lit some sort of touch-paper. Now, he just had to hope that Sandie could carry off the deception with no pre-knowledge. She probably could. She was bright. And keen, he thought, with a smile, which vanished when he realized that there would be none of that this weekend, as Elizabeth literally threw some clothes into a weekend bag. And Josh would enjoy his predicament hugely.
‘Ready,’ she said.
And there were other problems. The hotel room, for a start. ‘I’ve only got a single room at the hotel,’ he said.
‘Do you think it might be too crowded with the three of us?’
He sighed. He could barely remember the last time he and Elizabeth had shared a bed, never mind a single bed. His eyes widened a little as she picked up the phone and asked him for the hotel’s number. Reluctantly, he found the reservation, told her the number. She had a brief conversation, then hung up, turning back to him.
‘They can’t switch us to a twin room,’ she said. ‘But they can put another bed in your room, so I’ve asked them to do that.’
Five minutes later, he was pulling away from the elegant Georgian terrace in Barton and heading towards Stansfield.
SCENE III – BARTONSHIRE.
Saturday, July 12th, 6.35 a.m.
On the Road from Barton to Stansfield.
Paul’s eyes were on the road, but he could feel Elizabeth smiling. She had called his bluff, the cow, and she was convinced she was going to catch him out. But she wouldn’t. This was just another inconvenience to add to the long list of inconveniences he had had to suffer since he was twenty years old and standing at the altar under duress. Sandie would come through for him.
He had known that things were bound to get worse once she had been given a huge financial incentive; the wonder was that it had taken her this long to think of some new way of embarrassing him. She was wasting her time, though. He wasn’t going to get caught. If the army had taught him nothing else, it had taught him the value of forward planning. And if his father had hedged his financial legacy round with conditions, he had inheri
ted one thing from him that was his to use whenever he chose: the ability to anticipate and cover every contingency. Including this one. He just hadn’t anticipated the need for Sandie to extemporize, that was all.
There was virtually no conversation until they were into Stansfield. Only he and Elizabeth could manage a thirty-mile journey without speaking, but finding yourself welded to the wrong person for half your life made communication an unnecessary luxury unless it had some wounding purpose. And it suited him that it should be so, because he was having to work out several conversational gambits that would give Sandie clues as to what he’d told Elizabeth.
He pulled up outside the flats, and hooted, mentally crossing his fingers that Sandie was as quick on the uptake as he believed her to be. A moment later, she came out of the flats, her step faltering just a little when she saw him open the rear passenger door, and realized why.
‘Sandie,’ he said, as she got in. ‘This is Elizabeth, my wife. Elizabeth, this is Sandie, Josh’s girlfriend, to whom I very wisely offered a job.’
Sandie shook Elizabeth’s hand awkwardly over the headrest. ‘It’s nice to meet you at last,’ she said. ‘I’ve heard a lot about you.’
‘Well, I’ve heard practically nothing about you,’ Elizabeth said. ‘It’s not like Josh to be secretive. Have you known him long?’
‘No, not long,’ Sandie said.
‘How did you meet?’
‘Oh I was with some friends in a pub, and he came over to say hello to someone. We got talking.’
‘And they discovered they had something in common,’ Paul said. ‘Has the insurance not come across with the readies yet?’ he asked, glancing over his shoulder. ‘I notice a distinct absence of diving gear.’ He turned back to Elizabeth. ‘Sandie’s kit was stolen,’ he said, as he drove off, mentally ticking off what he had managed so far to communicate.
‘But I thought I’d go and keep Josh company anyway,’ said Sandie. ‘I’ll sun myself on the deck.’
Paul relaxed a little. Sandie was a natural, unlike him. His deceptions were deeply devious, but he had to plan them ahead.
‘And have you been doing this all your life like these two?’
‘No. I’m just a beginner compared to them.’
‘And how long have you been going to Penhallin at the weekends? It’s quite a trek, isn’t it?’
‘Oh – since I’ve known Josh, really.’
Brilliant. Now, Paul really relaxed, because thankfully, Elizabeth knew as little about the subject as Sandie did; had she been a diver herself, she could have tripped Sandie up, but she had run out of things to pump her about, and the first round in this heavyweight contest had undoubtedly gone to him.
SCENE IV – CORNWALL.
Saturday, July 12th, 12.45 p.m.
On the Road to Penhallin.
They had stopped at a service area just once, and just for long enough to use the toilet facilities; Paul had had no chance to speak to Sandie alone. And as they crossed the Tamar into Cornwall, he didn’t know whether to be glad or sorry; on the one hand it meant that this particular odyssey was almost over, but on the other it meant that now Josh would be put through his paces. Josh could think just as quickly as Sandie, but he had a wicked, wicked streak.
Oh, Jesus, he thought, as Penhallin at last welcomed his careful driving, and he remembered. He was supposed to be picking up lunch, but lunch on board would be impossible; Josh had no way of knowing the fictitious background he and Sandie had concocted. He’d have to get Elizabeth away, give Sandie time to brief Josh.
‘Josh’ll be expecting you to get something for lunch, won’t he, Sandie?’ Paul said, driving through the busy little town to the supermarket. Sandie agreed that he would.
‘Will you be joining us?’ she asked, as she put various things in a basket.
‘No,’ said Paul. ‘We’ll have lunch at the hotel.’ He smiled at Elizabeth. ‘I think you’d rather eat on dry land, wouldn’t you?’ He turned back to Sandie. ‘I only managed to persuade her to come because there isn’t a breath of wind.’
‘I’m glad you did,’ said Sandie, and smiled at Elizabeth. ‘You’ll be company for me.’
There was something almost unsettling about the ease with which Sandie could do this, but Paul was very grateful for it, as they piled back into the car. He pulled on his driving gloves, and was just setting off again when he glimpsed a familiar car driving into the car park.
‘I think that’s your mother,’ said Elizabeth.
‘Is it?’ he said, and drove off.
SCENE V – CORNWALL.
Saturday, July 12th, 1.00 p.m.
The Deck of Lazy Sunday in Penhallin Harbour.
Josh Esterbrook watched as his weekend group left the boat and went off to have lunch at various places.
Divers. It was an appropriate name for them, given the range of occupations, or lack of them. They came from every conceivable kind of background, and in amongst the holiday-makers he had a group of semi-regular locals who turned up every time he took the boat out. They included a peer of the realm who had never worked a day in his life, and a hard-living, if not exactly hard-working, rent-boy, a retired stockbroker, and a property dealer’s wife. And, of course, his half-brother, who had his own reasons for spending the weekend in Cornwall, which didn’t very often include diving, and whose car was pulling into the car park even now. Josh’s eyes widened as he saw the two women emerge. One was Elizabeth. The other, slim, dark, mid-twenties, floppy sunhat, was presumably Sandie Townsend.
‘Hello, Elizabeth,’ he said, helping them on board. ‘This is a nice surprise. What do you think of Lazy Sunday?’
‘Nice,’ said Elizabeth.
‘Lunch,’ the girl said, emptying a supermarket bag out on to the deck as she spoke. ‘Sandwiches, sausage rolls, coleslaw, Coke, and fresh orange juice. And some biscuits and Brie, and a couple of apples. But I’ve still got no kit, I’m afraid, so I’ll just have to be decorative.’
Josh realized that he was being drawn into some subterfuge of Paul’s, but he was pretty sure he didn’t know enough about it to comment, so he changed the subject altogether. ‘I’m surprised to see you here,’ he said to Elizabeth. ‘Angela said you’d got a letter telling you you could pick up your ticket for the concert. I thought she said something about Saturday.’
‘She probably did,’ she said. ‘But it’s the last Saturday in September.’
Josh grinned. ‘You mean they’ve given you nearly three months’ notice of when you can get a ticket? When’s the concert?’
‘Not until the end of the year.’
‘Can you believe it?’ Paul said. ‘A grown woman prepared to queue all day for a ticket to a geriatric rock concert?’
‘It’s a one-time reunion,’ Elizabeth said defensively.
‘Oh,’ said Sandie. ‘That concert. They say people are going to be queuing all night.’
‘I’m not quite that keen,’ said Elizabeth. ‘But I really would like to see them live, whatever Paul thinks.’
‘Good for you,’ said Sandie. ‘I hope you manage to get a ticket.’
‘Well, I think we should leave Sandie and Josh to have their lunch and go and check in at the hotel,’ said Paul. ‘I’m sure they don’t want us playing gooseberry.’
Playing gooseberry? Josh smiled. So that was the story, was it? He could have fun with this. ‘Which hotel are you in?’ he asked.
‘The Excalibur,’ said Paul. ‘I like to stay there, if I can,’ he said to Elizabeth.
‘Then I presume it’s the biggest and the best,’ she said.
‘It’s certainly the biggest,’ said Josh. ‘But it’s on the outskirts of Plymouth, so you’ll have to get your foot down if you want lunch.’
‘It has a brasserie that serves food all day,’ said Paul.
‘We could have stopped there on the way,’ Elizabeth said, looking puzzled. ‘Why didn’t you?’
‘I couldn’t let Josh starve while we all had lunch,’ said Paul.
&nbs
p; ‘Why on earth do you stay in Plymouth, anyway?’
‘I prefer big hotels, and there aren’t any round here.’
Elizabeth looked unimpressed, but dropped her interrogation. ‘Where do you usually stay, Josh?’ she asked.
‘I rough it on the boat,’ he said. ‘One of the cabins is habitable. The other one’s used to stow the divers’ gear.’
‘Do you stay on the boat too?’ she asked Sandie.
Josh smiled. ‘I think you’re advancing our relationship a little further than Sandie wants to take it just yet,’ he said. ‘But carry on. I welcome your assistance.’
‘Oh, I’m sorry,’ Elizabeth said, not sounding in the least sorry. ‘I just assumed—’
‘Oh, ignore him,’ said Sandie. ‘No, I’m staying at The Point. It’s expensive, but everyone says it’s very good.’
‘You haven’t stayed there before?’ said Elizabeth.
‘No,’ said Sandie. ‘I like to stay in different places. Get to know the area.’
She was a quick thinker. Josh liked that. He liked it a lot. With that, Paul and Elizabeth went off to have lunch; Sandie stripped off her outer clothes to reveal a yellow bikini, and sat down on the deck, smiling at him.
‘Sandie Townsend,’ she said, her hand outstretched.
‘Josh Esterbrook.’ He shook her hand. ‘So what’s the story?’
‘I seem to be your girlfriend. You met me in a pub, and we realized we both did scuba-diving. I haven’t known you very long, but I have been coming to Penhallin ever since I met you, and Paul gave me a job on the strength of our relationship.’ She paused. ‘I think.’
Josh grinned. ‘Did you get notice of any of this?’
‘None whatsoever.’ She lay back on the deck, covering her face with the hat.
Josh had been interested in Sandie from the moment he had been told about her, and now that he had actually met her, he was even more interested.
