Strategy

by Anita Waller

  Jenny closed the laptop with a sigh. She needed a car and had just hired one from Enterprise for the following day, to be delivered at 12.45 p.m. Memorising the numbers on his bank card meant Sebastian had no idea she was actually spending any money online, and she had been able to book the car without him realising it. There was no way she could use her own card.

  ‘Did you find anything you fancied?’

  She had told him she wanted to check out holidays. She shrugged. ‘A couple, but nothing that made me want to pack my bags today and go. We’ll keep looking.’

  ‘Okay, maybe we can go through some tomorrow when I come back from the funeral. It will help take your mind off it.’

  Take her mind off it? Was he mental? She merely nodded, crossed the room to sit on the sofa, and picked up her book.

  Sebastian closed his own laptop. ‘Do you want to go out for a drive? Have a meal out?’

  Jenny thought about it and then nodded. ‘Why not. That would be good. Let’s find somewhere where nobody knows us, and have an evening without worry. Thank you for your patience with me, Seb. I promise I’ll make it up to you, one day.’

  ‘Hey,’ he said, and moved across to sit beside her. ‘Come on. Don’t sound so negative. Things will get better, and as soon as we get your new ID stuff, we’ll be much freer to move around anywhere in the world.’

  She gave a short bark of laughter. ‘And, at the moment, we’re struggling moving around Lincolnshire.’

  He stood and held out his hand to help her to her feet. ‘Go and get ready. We’ll head for south of here, then. Nothing’s insurmountable.’

  Within ten minutes, they were on their way.

  ‘Where are we going?’

  ‘I know a pub near Grantham. We’ll go there.’

  He smiled across at her, and she felt warmed by his love.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘I’m looking forward to this, to almost feeling normal.’

  ‘You are normal. You’ve just had a really bad couple of weeks, but we’ll get through it, one way or another.

  She nodded. ‘One way or another.’

  And, for two hours, life felt good.

  Michael felt rested by Sunday evening. He was happy to be home despite the intermittent pain he felt in the leg which wasn’t there.

  Tim and Steve had gone to Erin’s home with her, confirming they would be back by eleven the next morning. They spent the evening with the television on, watching it, and not knowing what was on. By ten o’clock, they had all gone to bed, and the house closed down for the night.

  Tommy and Sally were also in bed early, with Tommy feeling increasingly uneasy about Sally. He wanted to talk to her, but sensed she didn’t want to talk to him, not yet.

  Joy gave Michael his final medication and a small hand bell Mark had found, with instructions to ring it, if he needed help during the night. She finally drifted off to sleep just before midnight.

  Caro and Luc comforted each other. Whispering in French, they spoke of their fears for the following day, and their fears of what would follow, once Gainsborough knew of Jenny’s whereabouts.

  Adam was fast asleep by the time Mark rolled onto his bottom bunk. He finally closed his eyes just before 3 a.m., and slept dreamlessly.

  Nobody had a good night.

  36

  Mark arose far too early. He crept downstairs and went into the kitchen, where he found Sally already nursing a mug of tea.

  ‘Can’t sleep,’ she said by way of explanation. ‘It’s going to be a long day.’

  He nodded his agreement and clicked on the kettle. ‘Want another?’ he asked.

  She nodded mutely, and handed him her almost empty mug. ‘Thanks.’

  He made both drinks, then sat at the table with her.

  At first, they didn’t speak, sipping at their drinks in silence.

  Sally finally lifted her head at her son-in-law. ‘I’m going to miss this house. Even without our lovely Grace in it, it’s a welcoming home. It’s strange, but when Jenny lived here, it wasn’t welcoming. It was smart, she had a good eye for décor, but she never made us feel welcome. It always felt as though there was some sort of barrier. It’s obvious now it was her, not you.’

  He reached across the table and took her hand. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘You’re a good man, Mark Carbrook. I’m guessing there’s stuff Tommy and I don’t know, so I’m asking you to tell us, if there is, before Jenny gets in that courtroom.’

  He nodded. ‘What makes you think that, Sally?’

  ‘She didn’t kill three people, without having a damn good reason, and as one of the three was Ray Carbrook, it doesn’t take a genius to work out he was the reason behind all the deaths. Am I right?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ he lied. ‘I don’t know why she targeted Ray, so we might all have to wait until she has her day in court.’

  ‘You know,’ she murmured. ‘Tommy doesn’t know how I feel about all of this. I haven’t discussed my thoughts at all with him. Whatever you tell me, it stays with me.’

  Again, he lied. ‘I can’t help, Sally. It makes absolutely no sense to me, but one day, we’ll know.’

  They once more drifted into silence, and when Sally had finished her drink, she stood. ‘You might be lying to save me heartache, Mark, but don’t lie to yourself. And if it involves Adam, you make damn sure he knows about anything his mother can talk about on that witness stand, before the papers print it.’

  Mark remained in the kitchen, thinking over everything Sally had said before she headed back upstairs. He knew she was right. Adam had to come first, had to be prepared to face his friends when the truth came out about his parentage. He would talk things over with Tim and Caro before they flew home, and come to a decision about how to handle the delicate situation.

  The sunrise was spectacular, and Mark took what remained of his drink out on to the patio. It would be a beautifully warm, sunshine-filled day for his daughter, his amazing Grace. He blinked back the sudden rush of tears, and knew they would be the first of many on this emotional day.

  He let his mind roam over the years of love he had shared with Grace, deliberately blocking out anyone else. His heart ached, a physical pain. And he knew Jenny would be feeling the same.

  He now recognised she had withheld her love for Adam, but her love for Grace had never been in dispute. He hoped she was hurting so bad it would kill her, just like she had inadvertently killed Grace.

  Following much debate, they had decided to have refreshments after the funeral at Lindum Lodge. He refused to call it a wake. The caterers would be arriving around twelve o’clock, and would remain in attendance until five o’clock. He had to stay strong until then; after that, he could collapse.

  Mark heard a sound in the kitchen. ‘Dad! You’re up and about early!’

  ‘He hasn’t slept much,’ Joy said drily. ‘Wouldn’t have sleeping tablets, in case it made him drowsy today.’

  ‘He’s had pain-killers, though?’ Mark looked alarmed.

  ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘He’s had them. He’ll have some more before we go. Don’t worry, I’ll see he’s in no pain. And tonight, he’ll sleep, believe me.’

  ‘I am here, you know.’ Michael smiled. ‘Stop talking about me as if I’m a two-year-old.’

  Joy muttered something under her breath and glared at him.

  Mark grinned. It seemed this woman had got his dad sorted with no trouble at all. ‘Breakfast?’

  ‘Just toast for me, thanks, Mark,’ Michael said. ‘Joy?’

  ‘And I’ll just have toast as well, but go and sit down on the patio. I’ll do it, and bring it out to you.’

  Mark took the wheelchair and manoeuvred Michael into a sheltered position. There was a light breeze, and he didn’t want him feeling cold.

  They chatted quietly, whilst enjoying their breakfast, slathered in an assortment of marmalades and jams Joy had found in the fridge. It could almost have been any normal family breakfast on any normal family day; except, it wasn’t.
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  By the time everyone had breakfasted, the sun was beating down. Erin, Steve and Tim had arrived much earlier than they had said they would, explaining they had hardly slept, so thought they would see if anything needed doing.

  Erin barely spoke. Not only did she have the devastating loss of her niece to contend with, she also had the stress of being with Sebastian to handle. Her reason for being awake most of the night was Sebastian West. Could she keep her mouth closed about what she knew? Would her anger surface and possibly allow the police to lose Jenny?

  She went into the lounge and sat quietly, her thoughts still chaotic. Up to the point when Jenny had walked out of Sebastian’s house, she had loved him. Following him had been an impulsive action; Erin had had no idea where it would lead, but she had felt she needed to talk to him, to find out why he had chilled towards her. She had got the answer. And now, she was being asked to accompany him to the funeral and act as though everything was fine between them.

  Caro joined her, and touched her lightly on the shoulder before sitting down across from her. ‘You okay?’

  Erin shook her head.

  ‘I know how hard it’s going to be for you,’ Caro said, ‘but ultimately, this is going to see justice for those three she killed, and Grace, who she as good as killed. He’s obviously going to report back to the bitch, and as she has no idea we know where she is, I don’t think she’ll be in any rush to leave the area just yet. We can tell Gainsborough tomorrow, and it will be over.’

  ‘I know,’ Erin responded, ‘but I’ve still got to spend time with a lying, cheating philanderer of a man, haven’t I? And I have to keep my mouth shut. That won’t be easy, I promise you.’

  Caro laughed. ‘I don’t imagine for one minute it will, but just keep acting. We’re all there, supporting you.’

  There were noises outside the door, and both said, ‘Caterers.’

  They rose in unison. ‘If it’s that time, I’d better go get changed. We’re leaving in half an hour or so.’ Erin leaned across and kissed Caro on the cheek. ‘Thank you for your support. And it’s been good getting to know you and Luc, even if it is in rubbish circumstances.’

  Jenny stood at the bedroom window, staring out across the back garden. She saw nothing; her eyes were filled with tears and red-rimmed.

  Sebastian had put on his darkest suit, and was standing in front of the mirror tying his black tie. It stood out starkly against his white shirt.

  ‘Do I look okay?’

  She nodded, without turning around.

  ‘You didn’t look,’ he said gently.

  Her head dropped, and she leant against the window. ‘I can’t bear this.’

  ‘I know, my love, but it will be over soon. And then, we’ll start our new life, together.’

  She didn’t respond, and he moved across to take her in his arms.

  ‘Come here. I hate to see you like this. Would you rather I didn’t go?’

  She shook her head. ‘No, I need you to go. I need to know it went off okay.’

  ‘I wish I could take you, but I know there’ll be police there, and we can’t take the risk. Even if they didn’t recognise you, your family would. I promise to be home by three o’clock, sweetheart, and then, I’ll sit and hold you all night, if that’s what you want. It will all be over.’

  He kissed her gently, then moved back to the mirror to check his tie once more.

  ‘I have to go now.’

  ‘I know. Take all my love to her, Seb. I still can’t believe it’s happened. Just keep sending love inside that coffin. She has to know I’m sorry; this wasn’t meant to happen.’

  ‘Hey, come on.’ He lifted her chin, wiped the tears from her cheeks with his thumb, and kissed her. ‘I’ll be back soon.’

  Jenny trailed after him down the stairs; she stood looking out of the lounge window and waved as he drove away. He flashed his brake lights twice, waving his hand out of the window.

  She waited for a few moments, in case he had forgotten anything. Then, Jenny ran upstairs, washed her face and grabbed her backpack; a bag already packed with everything she would need.

  She went back downstairs, stood at the window, and waited.

  37

  The caterers had set all the food in place in the kitchen, and stayed respectfully inside that room, as the family congregated in the hall.

  Erin and Joy had manoeuvred Michael into the Lexus and stowed the wheelchair in the boot. They sat in the car waiting; the plan was they would leave just before the hearse, in order for Erin and Joy to reload him into the chair, and Erin to park the car. They would re-join the mourners at the entrance to the chapel where the service would be held.

  Just after half past twelve, Erin set off. It was roasting; the gentle breeze of earlier had all but disappeared, and she turned into the crematorium entrance to be met by a sea of people.

  ‘Look at this,’ she gasped. ‘Look at all these people!’

  ‘Most of them are children,’ Joy said, equally shocked. ‘They’ll be from Grace’s school, presumably.’

  Erin carefully drove up to the doors, and they helped Michael out of the car and into the wheelchair. She carefully drove around to the car park, praying there would be a spot for her. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw one. She climbed out of the car, and walked towards the steps which would take her back up to the crowds.

  Sebastian was waiting for her at the top. She felt sick as he kissed her.

  ‘You okay?’ he asked.

  She shook her head. ‘No, not at all. I can’t imagine a worse day.’

  He hugged her once more. ‘How’s Michael?’

  ‘I’m just going up to him now. He’s with his nurse.’

  ‘He’s out already? I thought he’d be in for some time. So, he’s okay?’

  ‘He’s getting there.’ She felt like snapping, “No, he’s fucking well not okay, thanks to your girlfriend”, but knew she couldn’t.

  They reached Michael and Joy and stood waiting for the arrival of the hearse. Sebastian had shaken Michael’s hand, but there was no warmth in Michael’s voice, as he had merely said, ‘Seb’, in acknowledgement.

  Everyone fell silent as the hearse, immaculately polished and gleaming in the bright sunshine, was spotted beginning the slow climb up the hill towards the crematorium doors. It drew to a halt, and the funeral directors jumped out of the front. They raised the rear door, patiently waiting.

  A wave of applause filled the air with noise, cascading onwards, upwards, sideways, as the huge crowd showed they were holding Grace in their thoughts and their hearts.

  On top of the white coffin was a wreath of yellow and white flowers, interspersed with pink carnations, bearing a card expressing the love of the entire family. A few seconds later, the doors of the cortege cars were opened, and Mark and Tim stepped forward, hesitantly. The coffin, so light and containing such a precious burden, was hoisted on to their shoulders.

  Adam walked immediately behind his Uncle Tim, unaware of the tears falling down his cheeks, his eyes locked on to the coffin, afraid to accept it contained his sister.

  They reached the catafalque, and the funeral directors stepped forward to place the small coffin on it; a photograph of Grace was placed in front of it.

  Mark was numb. This couldn’t be happening to them. She had weighed nothing, his precious, beautiful child, nothing. He would never see her again, never hear the beautiful music which had flowed through their home because of her, never feel her run into his arms and give him a kiss, ‘just because’.

  He gave a strangled sob, and felt Adam’s hand creep into his. Tim, standing at the other side of him, placed his arm around his brother’s shoulders and whispered, ‘Be strong.’

  He didn’t want to be strong; he wanted to rant, to rave, to scream, to declare war on an unfeeling world; he wanted to hold Grace one last time.

  Mark heard nothing of the service; even Lily’s contribution passed him by, although he was aware of a few chuckles from the back of him, as sh
e remembered jokey bits about Grace and her love of school life, which she shared with everyone.

  He simply didn’t want to join in. He wanted no part of this dreadful day. Tim had to nudge him when he had to stand, and his eyes remained fixed on the whiteness of the coffin right up to the point when the curtains went around it, and he let out an anguished, ‘N-o-o-o …’

  There was a sharp intake of breath from everyone around him, and he sank back on to the seat, sobbing, unable to hold in the grief for one minute longer.

  His Grace was gone.

  Jenny watched the small white car pull into the drive, and she went to the door to meet the driver.

  ‘Mrs. Carbrook?’

  She nodded, and he handed her a clipboard. ‘Just need three signatures, love, and she’s all yours until this time tomorrow. Oh, and I need to see your driving licence. Can’t be too careful, these days,’ he grinned.

  She quickly signed and handed him her licence to photograph on his phone, took the proffered keys, and watched as he went back down the drive and across the road. He climbed into another car and disappeared.

  Jenny went back into the hallway, picked up her rucksack, and left the house, carefully closing the front door behind her.

  She adjusted the front seat, checked the controls, and smiled as she saw the petrol tank was full. Presumably, they wanted it back in the same condition. She sat for a moment, looking back at the house, wiped away the tears, and drove out of the drive. She turned right, and didn’t look back.

  They walked out of the side door of the small chapel, and to where the flowers had been put for their inspection. Erin stood with Sebastian, Caroline and Luc, and they all watched as Mark tried to cope with all the well-wishers, ready to step in and stop further collapse. He was dangerously close to the edge.

  DI Gainsborough went to him and shook his hand. ‘No words, Mark. You’re a brave man. I have nothing but admiration …’

  ‘Is that the feller who’s not managed to solve the murders?’ Sebastian asked, bending to speak quietly into Erin’s ear.