Hopgood House was under siege. Drew could have let all his rooms ten times over but refrained out of respect for Fay, whom he and Cheryl had taken her under their wing. The bar was packed with hacks eager for the inside story, aware it was Drew who had identified Natalie’s body. Drew employed extra help to keep up with the demand for alcoholic beverages. Closing the bar to professional drinkers who actually possessed the ability to pay would have been asking too much of a struggling hotelier, and Alexi wouldn’t dream of asking. She was a big girl, well able to keep her head below the parapet until Fuller’s place in the headlines was taken up by a new scandal and the media circus moved on.
Some of Fuller’s lads were giving interviews, seeming to think their jobs were a thing of the past so they might as well cash in somehow. Tod was amongst them but he didn’t tell them much, promising to give Alexi the true insider’s story of life in the Fuller concentration camp, as he called it, once the dust had settled. Part of Alexi didn’t want the story. Being on the receiving end of mob-journalism had given her a very different perspective of her chosen profession and she didn’t much like what she saw. Bribery, bully-boy tactics, ridiculous speculation based on the flimsiest, unsubstantiated rumours were methods used to fill airtime and column inches. It was tacky, sensationalist and about as reliable as a politician’s promise.
Alexi recognised some of her former colleagues and kept out of sight. She and Tyler took refuge in the kitchen, unable to let Fay see Natalie’s cottage until the media storm blew over. Alexi’s phone rang. Patrick. For the third time. With a sigh of resignation, she accepted he wouldn’t give up until she spoke to him, so she took the call.
‘At last,’ he said. ‘If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were avoiding me.’
‘Patrick, what can I do for you?’
‘Come on! You’re sitting on the story of the decade. Murder, under-age sex and…oh, shit!’ His enhanced breathing echoed down the line. ‘Is it you, the attempted murder? You were looking for a friend of Cheryl’s, Drew identified the body…it all fits.’
‘I’m fine.’
‘The hell you are! I’m coming down.’
‘No!’ She swallowed. ‘No, Patrick, you’re not. You have a paper to run and it’s a jungle down here. Hopefully the mob will move on before my name gets leaked.’
‘You think that’s important? About the paper, I mean. I know you don’t have a high opinion of me, right now, but…’ He paused and she could imagine his agitated expression as he ran fingers through his hair and juggled commitments in his mind. ‘Nothing matters to me more than you,’ he said softly.
Other than scooping the opposition. Alexi chased the thought away. It was what he did. And what she would have done too not so long ago. His first thought would be for the story. Of course it would. But she knew he felt something for her as well, otherwise why pursue her? She would have to find a way to tell him that she no longer returned those feelings. Right now it didn’t rank high on her list of priorities because it would be the start of a battle she didn’t have the energy to fight.
‘I’m fine. Really. But there’s no point in coming down. All the hotels are full anyway.’
‘Will you at least file your story with us? I have people down there, but you have your finger on the pulse. No one can eclipse your version of events.’
‘I can’t talk about most of what I know until after Fuller’s been sentenced.’
‘I hear he’s due before Magistrates today.’
‘Yes. He’s going to plead guilty.’
‘I’m sorry this has happened to you, Alexi, and I know this isn’t the right time to ask but have you thought more about my proposition?’ A strained laugh echoed down the line. ‘Apart from anything else, it sounds as though London would be safer for you than the country.’
‘You’re right, Patrick. This isn’t the time.’ Coward!
She hung up, aware of Tyler’s gaze fixed on her profile.
‘He doesn’t give up,’ he said softly.
‘No, well…’
‘Sorry, none of my business.’ He smiled at her. ‘How’s Fay doing?’
‘She’s read all of Natalie’s diaries and they’ve made her cry. A lot.’
‘That’s to be expected. Has she got the strength to tackle her manuscript?’
‘She’s on it now.’
Tyler nodded but before he could say anything more their conversation was interrupted by Fay herself. Cosmo stirred in the basket he was sharing with Toby when he heard her footsteps, blinked a few times and settled back down again. Fay passed muster and Cosmo didn’t need to go on the offensive. Alexi smiled and reached down to scratch his big head. Her moggy was definitely becoming house trained.
‘How are you doing?’ Tyler asked, standing to pour coffee for them all.
‘I’m finding the manuscript easier because it’s written with such clinical detachment,’ Fay replied, sighing. ‘It’s almost as though she’s talking about someone else’s life.’
‘Yes,’ Alexi agreed. ‘She held back on describing her feelings and stuck to the facts.’
‘Which means it lacks heart. We all want to know what was going on inside of her. Well, I do, anyway. I’d suggest you write her story,’ Fay said. ‘But I hesitate to let the world know how badly I failed her.’
‘You didn’t fail her,’ Tyler replied. ‘Speaking of which, has he been in touch again?’
Fay shook her head. Gerry had been on the phone to Fay shortly after she arrived at Hopgood House, demanding to know where she was and what she thought she was playing at. When she said she was in Lambourn, Seaton had become defensive, accusing her of listening to ‘that damned reporter’s lies’ and insisting she return home. Fay respectfully declined, so Seaton said he would join her. Alexi heard Fay’s end of the conversation and wanted to punch the air when she calmly told him that if he came within ten miles of her she would release Natalie’s diaries to the press. It was the first time, she told Alexi and Tyler afterwards, that she had ever known him lost for words.
‘No, I’ve not heard from him since. He must have seen all the hoo-hah on the television news and decided to keep a low profile. Natalie’s identity and the fact that she was our adopted daughter hasn’t yet been released, but I expect it will be any day now. Or else some enterprising journalist will find out. Either way, Gerry knows he’ll be in demand for interviews.’ She curled her lip. ‘What’s the betting he’ll preen in front of the cameras, thanking God that he finally knows where his long-lost daughter was all this time, giving him closure?’
‘I certainly wouldn’t bet against it,’ Tyler replied.
Fay nodded, drained her coffee cup and stood up. ‘Now, you must excuse me. If I don’t continue reading, I might lose the nerve.’
Alexi gave her a swift hug. ‘Just remember, you’re not alone in this.’
‘Thank you, Alexi. And you too, Tyler. I don’t know what I would have done without you both.’
‘I shall have to go back to Newbury tomorrow,’ Tyler said once Fay had left them. ‘Will you be all right?’
‘Of course.’ She smiled at him, surprised at how much she didn’t want him to go. ‘I’m grateful that you’ve stayed this long when your work must be piling up. But the press will clear off once Fuller’s been before the beak so I’m planning on showing Fay Natalie’s cottage tomorrow.’
‘That will help with the healing process.’
‘I hope so.’
‘What about you?’ He reached for the coffee again, thought better of it and went to the fridge for a cold bottle of wine. He poured her a glass without asking if she wanted one and placed it in front of her. She wanted, and took a healthy swig. ‘What do you plan to do now? You came down here for a little peace and quiet, which you haven’t found. Have you thought what next?’
‘Actually, the country’s growing on me. I might take a rented cottage down here. I like the area and it would be good to be close to Cheryl when she becomes a mother. I fully intend to be a han
ds-on godmother.’
‘I think that’s a great idea. Got any places in mind?’
‘I’ve put out a few feelers with local estate agents, but until the furore of Fuller’s arrest dies down…’
‘I’m glad you’re sticking around.’ He touched her face with the tips of his fingers. Alexi waited, half hoping he’d say more. Glad when he didn’t. ‘Let’s have dinner once the village returns to normal.’
‘I’d like that.’
‘Me too.’
He briefly, way too briefly, touched her lips with his own. Then Cheryl joined them, which Alexi told herself was just as well.
Tyler’s mobile rang. He answered it, and listened for a while.
‘Just a moment,’ he said. ‘I’ll pass you to Ms Ellis. She can help you.’ Alexi flexed a brow in enquiry. ‘It’s Natalie’s solicitor.’
‘Oh, right.’ Alexi took Tyler’s phone. ‘Alexi Ellis. How can I help you?’
‘The name’s Denton. I represented Natalie Parker’s interests and was very sorry to hear what happened to her. Very sorry indeed.’ He sighed. ‘However, to business. She left very detailed instructions about her funeral.’
‘We’d been wondering what to do about that.’
‘Ms Parker was a very organised person who knew her own mind.’ Not so sure about that. ‘I understand her adoptive mother, Mrs Seaton, is there with you.’
‘Yes, she is.’
‘Could I come down and talk with her tomorrow?’
‘Of course. Actually, we’ll both be at Natalie’s cottage all the morning. Would that suit?’
‘Admirably. I have the address and I’ll see you there, say about eleven?’
‘That’s fine.’
***
Alexi drove Fay and Cosmo to Natalie’s cottage the following morning, glad that the weather had got its act together for the occasion and the countryside was bathed in sunshine. It was always easier to face tricky situations when the sun had its hat on and, as situations went, for Fay they didn’t get much trickier than this one. She sat in Fabio’s passenger seat, lacing her fingers together and twisting them until her knuckles turned white, staring straight ahead and not saying a word. She probably didn’t even notice that most of the media vehicles had disappeared. Cosmo spilled over the sides of her lap and Fay absently stroked his back. It had been harrowing for Fay to read her daughter’s words. And now she would see for herself how she had chosen to live since leaving the agency. She would be able to touch her clothes, her possessions; walk through the rooms she had decorated and furnished to suit her own taste. Breathe in the essence of the woman she hadn’t seen for nearly thirty years but had never stopped loving, worrying over and wondering about.
‘Here we are.’
Fay looked up, blinked and snapped out of her reverie when Alexi pulled up beside the cottage. She peered through the window, tentatively at first, but revived when she saw the lovely garden in full bloom.
‘Oh.’ Cosmo leapt from her lap the moment Fay opened the car’s door. ‘Did she really create this beautiful haven herself?’
‘That’s my understanding. Cheryl tells me it was a right old wilderness before Natalie got her hands on it.’
Fay walked through the gate, barely sparing a glance for the cottage as she walked round the side of it and into a back garden that was a riot of disorderly colour. Rose petals littered the path, their fragrant perfume almost overwhelming. Jasmine and honeysuckle fought with plumbago for pride of place on a trellis against a back wall and flowering shrubs Alexi couldn’t put names to filled every bed. It all looked so quintessentially English, as though it had all happened of its own accord, but must have taken months of planning and hard work to achieve the effect. Alexi glanced at Fay and observed tears streaming down her face. She sensed they were engendered by bittersweet pleasure rather than absolute sadness.
‘Are you all right?’ Alexi asked, placing a hand gently on Fay’s shoulder.
‘She remembered the ideas we came up with together, the year before she left us, when she and I talked about designing a garden from scratch as part of a project she was working on at school. Look, all the similar colours bunched together—the creams and white over there; pinks here; blues and mauves beneath the wall. We talked about how much more effective they would be that way.’ Fay wiped the tears away with the back of her hand, stopped dead in the centre of a path and turned to face Alexi, the emotion of reminiscence lending character to her face. ‘She remembered,’ she said softly. ‘She actually remembered.’
‘She never forgot you, or the values you instilled into her. I’m absolutely sure of that.’
‘Don’t say that.’ Fay snapped her head to one side. ‘I failed her. Nothing will ever convince me otherwise.’
Fay spent half-an-hour in the garden and Natalie’s workroom, brightening considerably at little touches that evoked memories. By the time they went into the cottage Fay seemed more composed and it was Alexi’s turn to experience a moment’s uncertainty. She would have to enter Natalie’s bedroom—the scene of her near-demise—and all the memories she’d tried to bury regarding that terrible day would inevitably bubble to the surface.
So let them!
There was nothing Fuller could ever do now to hurt her and she refused to allow him to continue intimidating her. Ignoring her pounding heart, she took a deep breath and strode into the room. It was just a room. Someone had tidied it, eradicating all traces of the life-and-death struggle that had taken place there and of the police’s subsequent heavy-handed presence.
Tyler.
Alexi recalled him asking for the keys as soon as the scene had been released. Now she knew why. Such a thoughtful man would be far too easy to fall in love with, if she was in the market to fall in love.
‘Thank you for bringing me here, Alexi,’ Fay said at the end of their tour. ‘I wasn’t sure how it would be, but it’s really helped.’
‘Then I’m glad.’
‘We can go now. I’ve taken up enough of your time.’
‘Actually, we’re waiting for someone.’ Alexi consulted her watch. ‘And he must be running late.’
‘Oh, you didn’t say.’
No, because Alexi hadn’t wanted Fay to fret. ‘Natalie’s solicitor needs to speak with you.’
Fay’s eyes widened. ‘With me? Natalie left something with him for me? Whatever…’
The doorbell cut off Fay’s astounded reaction and barrage of questions. Cosmo growled, so Alexi shooed him out into the back garden. Let the local rodent population bear the brunt of his irascible mood. She then went to the front door and wrenched it open. A man of about forty, of medium height and medium build who would be forgettable in a crowd, stood on the threshold. He was dressed in a lightweight, crumpled suit, an open-necked shirt, and wore aviator sunglasses which he whipped off when Alexi opened the door.
‘Ms Ellis?’
‘Yes. Mr Denton I assume. Do come in.’
‘Sorry to be a little late.’ He extracted a business card from the top pocket of his jacket, handed it to Alexi and followed her into the cottage. ‘I got lost. Took the wrong turn and had to double back.’
‘No problem.’
Alexi introduced Fay. Ever the hostess, Fay had set her wariness at Denton’s arrival aside and put the kettle on the moment the doorbell rang. She was now busying herself by assembling a tray with coffee cups. Alexi carried it through to the lounge, Fay poured and Mr Denton then got right down to business.
‘I’m sorry for your loss, Mrs Seaton,’ he said. ‘I liked your daughter very much. She was a good person.’
‘Thank you.’ Fay swallowed. ‘Did you know her well?’
‘I looked after her business affairs for a number of years.’
Which was not what Fay wanted to know, Alexi suspected. She was anxious for any snippets of first-hand knowledge about her daughter’s life; her habits, her likes, her friends. She had been badgering Cheryl incessantly in that respect since arriving in Hopgood House. Cheryl,
the mother-to-be, understood her need for information and was endlessly patient with Fay. Now she had someone who knew a different aspect of Natalie’s personality to interrogate.
‘Actually, Mrs Seaton, as I told Ms Ellis, Natalie left very detailed instructions regarding her funeral wishes.’
‘How extraordinary. Is that normal for someone so young?’
‘There is no hard and fast rule.’
Fay blinked rapidly. ‘How could she have known? I wonder if she had some sort of premonition and wanted to have everything in order.’
Alexi chose not to point out that her chosen career, before she retired from it, had not been without its risks.
‘She wished to be cremated,’ Denton said, sidestepping Fay’s question, or pretending not to hear it as he extracted a sheaf of papers from his briefcase. ‘She doesn’t want any religious connotations. She was most specific on that point.’
‘Given what happened to her,’ Fay said, sotto voce. ‘That doesn’t come as a big surprise.’
‘No flowers or donations to worthy causes in her name, and close friends only. No announcements in the papers. One spray of flowers from her own garden on the coffin.’
‘I can make that,’ Fay said. ‘I would like to.’
Denton nodded. ‘On one point, she was most specific. She does not want…er, excuse me, Mrs Seaton, but under no circumstances is Mr Seaton to be admitted to the funeral, or involved in it in any way.’
Denton looked concerned that Fay would object, or have a screaming fit, when he stumbled through that provision. Instead, she straightened her spine and met Denton’s gaze head on.
‘You have my assurance that he will not be, Mr Denton.’
The Deadline Series Boxset Page 27
