by Michael Wood
Oliver’s face dropped. ‘Don’t threaten me.’
‘Believe me, it’s not a threat. It’s a promise.’
Oliver took a step back. He looked around him. ‘What do you want?’
‘Sorry?’ Scott frowned.
‘I’m guessing you’re not out. Despite this being the twenty-first century, it’s still not easy to be out in the police force, is it? However, we all have urges. Is that what this is about? You’ll keep quiet for a shag once a week?’
‘What?’ Scott backed up in disgust. ‘No.’
‘Liar. I know what coppers are like. You’re all corrupt. You’re all after one thing.’ He took small steps to Scott who was backing away, not knowing he was being backed into a corner behind the shed where the park keepers store their equipment. ‘You arrest a drug dealer and I bet just enough makes it to court as evidence for him to be sent down and you share the rest among yourselves. You’ve stumbled upon my secret and you’ve thought of a way to turn it to your advantage.’
‘That is not what I’m after at all.’
‘So why are you here? Why send me that picture, pretending to be someone else, to lure me here?’
‘I want the truth.’
‘I’ve told you the truth,’ he said with a grin. ‘I was in Paris with my wife. I enjoy being a junior doctor. Yes, it’s hard work. Yes, it’s long hours. Yes, it’s poorly paid, but it’s a job I love. So, what else are you here for?’ He started to unbuckle his belt.
Scott backed away further and banged into the shed. He looked around and noticed he was trapped. ‘Shit,’ he said under his breath.
‘Not so cocky now, are you, pretty boy?’
Chapter Forty-Three
‘Oh my God,’ Matilda said. She suddenly burst into laughter.
‘What is it?’
‘Look at this.’
Matilda had received a picture message on her phone and immediately showed it to Adele who also laughed. The photo was of Pat Campbell, who, as she was going urbexing tonight, had gone out and bought herself a new wardrobe so she would be warm and comfortable for the night-time excursion. Dressed in a black beanie hat, black fleece jacket and waterproof black trousers, she looked like she was about to commit her first burglary.
‘Isn’t urbexing illegal?’ Adele asked.
‘Technically, no. You’re only a burglar if you’re on the premises to steal or damage it in some way. If you enter a property just to look around then you’re a civil trespasser which isn’t illegal.’
‘You’re well informed.’
‘I looked it up when Pat said that’s what she was doing.’ Matilda smiled.
After work, Matilda had decided against going home. Instead, she’d phoned Adele and asked if she fancied a takeaway, a few glasses of wine and a bad film. Adele replied yes to all three.
Sitting on the sofa in Adele’s warm living room, foil containers discarded, wine bottles opened and a bad Hollywood blockbuster playing out noisily on the TV, they relaxed, leaning against each other as the effects of the alcohol swept over them.
‘Where’s Chris tonight?’ Matilda asked as, on-screen, London seemed to be suffering the brunt of a violent storm.
‘He came home to change then said he was going out running with Scott. Did I tell you he’s found a flat?’
‘No. Where?’
‘Norton.’
‘That won’t be cheap.’
Adele sniffled. ‘I’m going to be on my own, Mat. I know I can’t expect him to live with me forever, but, I don’t think I like the idea of being in here on my own.’
‘You get used to it. I did.’
‘It’s silly. I mean, Chris is out a lot anyway. He’s either running or at the gym or on a night out. I hardly see him. But he’s here. This is his home. It’ll just be me rattling around.’
‘You could always move. Buy somewhere smaller.’
‘I like it here.’
‘Take a lodger.’
‘And get murdered while I’m asleep?’
Matilda stifled a laugh. ‘Find a bloke.’
Adele poured herself a large glass of wine and took a sip. ‘I think I’ve been on my own too long. I mean, it would be nice to wake up in the morning and have someone next to me. But then I think of the mess they make in the bathroom and I wonder if it’s worth the hassle.’
‘It’s funny; Pat moans about her husband yet here we are, lonely without one.’
‘Sod’s law.’
The front door opened and slammed closed making them both jump. The living room door was pushed open and Chris, in his running gear, came in with his arm around Scott, still suited and booted from work.
‘Matilda, thank God you’re here. Scott’s been attacked,’ Chris said.
‘What?’
‘I haven’t been attacked,’ Scott said.
Chris put Scott into the armchair and all three stood over him. Whatever had happened to him had resulted in his being hit in the face. His left eye was rapidly darkening.
‘What happened?’ Matilda asked.
‘Nothing.’
‘If you don’t tell them, Scott, I will.’
‘Shit,’ Scott said quietly. He tried to make eye contact with Matilda but couldn’t out of embarrassment. ‘I went to see Oliver Ridgeway.’
‘What? Why?’
‘I wanted to get the truth out of him. Put a little pressure on him.’
‘And he hit you?’
‘No. Well, not … it’s not that simple,’ he said, looking at Adele and Chris.
Matilda frowned. She turned to Adele and asked if she and Chris could leave them alone for a few minutes. They disappeared into the kitchen. Matilda sat down on the edge of the coffee table. ‘What happened?’
‘I sort of suggested that he’d arranged to kill his in-laws when Clive found out his secret.’
‘So he hit you? I’ll have him charged with assault.’
‘No. Wait. He tried to … you know … he backed me into a corner and he undid his trousers.’
‘What?’ Matilda jumped up.
‘No. Nothing happened. I went to move and he thumped me, so I elbowed him in the ribs. Then I did a runner.’
‘Jesus, Scott. What were you thinking?’
‘I don’t … I just.’
‘You could have been seriously injured. Or worse.’
‘But don’t you see what this means? It shows how quick he is to anger. He’s got to have played some part in the murder of his in-laws.’
‘But he has an alibi, Scott.’
‘He could have paid someone to do it for him. This Keith Lumb bloke. He could have offered him a few grand or something. It’s possible.’
‘Possible, but unlikely.’ Matilda sat on the sofa. ‘You did a reckless thing tonight, Scott. You were lucky.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘I don’t want you doing anything like that again.’
‘I won’t.’
‘I should hope not. You’ve only just recovered from what happened with Steve Harrison. Do you enjoy being in hospital?’
‘Look, I said I’m sorry,’ he said, standing up, wincing as he did so.
‘Where are you going?’
‘Home.’
Matilda stepped in front of him. She lifted his shirt and saw the bruises on his body. ‘I thought he just hit you in the face. Adele,’ she called out. ‘This is assault, Scott.’
‘And if I press charges it’ll all come out. You promised,’ he said through gritted teeth as Adele and Chris came back into the room.
‘What’s going on?’ Adele asked.
‘You’re medically trained. Have you got anything for this?’ Matilda asked, lifting Scott’s shirt up once again.
‘Jesus, Scott, why didn’t you tell me?’ Chris chastised.
‘Come on,’ Adele took charge. ‘Upstairs. I’ve got something that will take care of the bruising.’
Adele led Scott out of the room while Matilda and Chris went over to the sofa.
‘Is every
thing all right with Scott?’ Chris eventually asked.
‘Why do you ask?’
‘Well, since this new case, you know, the nasty crime scene, he’s been a bit quiet, a bit off.’ He shrugged, struggling to find the right words.
‘Has he said anything to you?’
‘No. That’s just it. Mum mentioned how bad the crime scene was. I just think it’s affecting him more than he’s letting on.’
‘Chris, I know you and Scott spend a lot of time together, but do you talk much, you know, about private things?’
‘Not really. I don’t think Scott has much to talk about. He works a lot. He goes home and puts up with Rory’s antics.’
‘He hasn’t mentioned anything else?’
‘No. Well, he said he’s lonely a few times. But then, aren’t we all?’
‘You’re lonely?’ Matilda asked, surprised.
‘It’s not fun being single in twenty-first century Britain. I think it’s since he moved in with Rory and he’s seen how he lives his life, he wonders why he can’t be like that – a different woman every weekend. They’re very different people. Rory’s loud, confident, and makes chatting up women look simple. Scott’s more reserved, shy. It’s not easy being like that.’
Adele came back into the living room. ‘I’ve run him a bath. I’ve got some of those muscle relaxing crystals that dissolve. They stink the place out, but they work.’
‘I think I’ll go up and have a word,’ Chris said.
‘What’s going on?’ Adele asked quietly as her son left the room.
‘I wish I knew, Adele. I think I’ve reached that age where I no longer understand the youth of today.’
‘Oh God, that’s a depressing realization.’
‘Tell me about it.’
‘More wine?’
‘Definitely.’
By the time Oliver arrived home the house was almost in darkness. He unlocked the front door and stepped in to see his mother at the top of the stairs.
‘You’re late,’ she said.
‘Yes. Busy day. Where’s Leah?’
‘She’s in bed. Has been all night.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘Have you eaten?’
‘I’m fine, Mum.’
‘OK. Well, goodnight.’ She turned the landing light off and headed for her bedroom, plunging Oliver into darkness.
He was sore from the attack by the detective, but he would heal. Though it would take more than a few paracetamol to help what was going on inside his head. He wondered if the gay detective was out at work. He knew they all stood by each other. If Scott’s secret did come out, nobody would care, they would stand by him and it would be Oliver whose career would lie in ruins before it even started. Fuck.
He went into the living room and poured himself a large brandy from his father’s supply and necked it in one gulp. This wasn’t how he expected his life to have turned out, certainly not his married life. The plan had been to move into Leah’s parents’ home once they returned from their honeymoon for a few months until they found a place. They had enough between them for a deposit on a house and there were several new builds they liked the look off. Clive and Serena Mercer had a house large enough for them all to live in quite happily for a while without being in each other’s pockets. If only the same could be said for his own parents’ cottage. Even downstairs in the living room he could hear his father’s light snoring.
He poured himself another drink and took it over to the sofa where he slumped into it. He took out his mobile phone and logged on to the dating app. There were several blokes currently online within a few kilometres who he liked the look of. Sex with Leah was comfortable, pedestrian, safe. When he was with a man, it was completely different. It was exciting, dangerous, and tinged with a hint of violence. He loved the roughness as he took another man between his legs, looked into his steely eyes and saw the same urgent determination that was racing through his own veins.
He felt himself grow hard and he rubbed his hand over his erection. He was married now. He had a wife upstairs who was there to satisfy his urges. But the sex on the night of their wedding had been incredibly tedious. He had to bite his bottom lip to stop himself from yawning. What was wrong with Leah? Why wouldn’t she give herself to him?
His phone vibrated. He looked down at the screen and saw he’d received a message from a cute nineteen-year-old. He messaged back. Within five minutes they knew just enough about each other to realize they were compatible to satisfy each other’s needs. The teenager gave him his location and Oliver texted back saying he’d be there in ten minutes. He snatched up his car keys from where he’d thrown them on the coffee table and left the house, slamming the door closed behind him.
Upstairs, Leah couldn’t sleep. She had heard Oliver come home and expected him to come straight to bed. She needed him. She needed someone to hold. Earlier in the evening, she had tried to talk to her mother-in-law, but it was obvious she wasn’t interested. They had never really got on. A clash of personalities. She had expected the murder of her family to have changed things, maybe brought down the walls Sophia built around her emotions, but no. She was as cold and as icy as ever.
As soon as Leah heard the front door close, she jumped out of bed and went over to the window, peeling back the curtains to look out. Oliver headed for his car. He looked at his watch as he turned on the internal light and entered something in his satnav, probably a postcode. He was obviously going somewhere specific, but where, and why now at this time of night? Despite being in her pyjamas, Leah picked up her car keys from the bedside table, took a jacket from the wardrobe and ran downstairs.
Leah shivered as she left the house. She had been warm and comfortable in bed. Now, in the freezing cold night, the low temperature bit into her. She ran to the bottom of the drive and saw Oliver’s car turn left at the end of the road. She jumped into her Fiat Punto, turned on the ignition and followed at speed.
She eventually caught up with him at the traffic lights, but kept well back so he didn’t recognize her. She hated herself for distrusting her husband of less than a week, but why had he been heading back out when he had only just come home? It didn’t make sense.
Leah slowed down. She was getting too close. They left Limb Lane and turned onto Ecclesall Road South. They were heading into the city centre, but at this time of night, nothing was open. Leah turned up the heating. She was freezing cold. Her hands were shaking, though it was mostly through nerves at what she might discover than the low temperatures.
At the end of the long road, Oliver slowed, indicated left, and pulled up in a small car park next to Endcliffe Park. The lighting was poor, and Leah couldn’t see well, but she was sure there was someone there waiting for him. She pulled over and turned off her lights. The front passenger door to Oliver’s car opened, lighting up the interior. She saw her husband smile as whoever had been waiting for him got into the car and closed the door. The light went off, plunging them into darkness.
Leah immediately thought the worst. Oliver was dealing in drugs. Maybe he was selling what he could steal from the hospital. She wondered how he had managed to come up with his half of a deposit so quickly, especially after his parents said they wouldn’t help him. This was not the way she wanted to buy a house. She did not want to start married life on a lie, and she certainly didn’t want to be married to a drug dealer.
Fuming, she stepped out of her car, slammed the door closed, and headed for Oliver’s black Toyota. She took long strides, not taking her eyes off the car once. Her breath formed in the cold night and drifted away. She was breathing heavily. She was angry, full of rage and disappointment. With a shaking hand, she took the handle and opened the door. The young man, whoever he was, was leaning back, his eyes closed, a smile on his face and his trousers open. Her husband was bent over and performing oral sex on him.
Oliver opened his eyes as the cold from outside wafted over him. As soon as he saw his wife, his expression changed to one of abject horror.
‘You bastard,’ she
eventually said. Her voice was calm, despite the fact what was left of her life had just been chewed up and spat out.
She slammed the door so hard she heard a crack in the glass and headed back for her car. She had no idea where she was going to go. She wanted to be away from Oliver, and everything that reminded her of him.
By the time she reached her Punto, she had calmed down, a little. The image of what her husband was doing in the car filled her head and she vomited into the side of the road.
‘Leah. Leah,’ Oliver shouted her. She looked up and wiped her mouth.
‘Don’t come anywhere near me.’ She held out a hand to stop him. ‘I don’t want to hear your excuses.’
‘Leah, it’s not what you think?’
‘Really? So I didn’t see you with that lad’s cock in your mouth?’
Oliver recoiled.
‘What? Embarrassed? Ashamed? Good. So you should be. You’re my husband, Oliver,’ Leah spat. ‘We’re married. If you didn’t love me, why marry me?’ She felt tears roll down her face which angered her more. Why should she feel so upset?
‘I do love you,’ he pleaded.
‘You’re pathetic.’
He stepped forward and put a hand on her arm which she quickly shrugged away.
‘Don’t touch me,’ she screamed. Her voice echoed through the night. ‘If you’d told me you were gay, I would have understood. I’m not a bigot. But this? This is disgusting. You disgust me. I don’t want anything to do with you.’
She jumped into the car, started the ignition and drove at speed. She looked in the rear-view mirror and saw the man she had loved standing in the middle of the road looking sad and pathetic.
Chapter Forty-Four
It was almost midnight but Sian and Stuart Mills finally had the house to themselves. Stuart came in from the kitchen carrying a cup of tea in each hand and offered one to his wife. She was shattered and wanted to go to bed but didn’t have the energy to get up off the sofa.
‘You were going to tell me why you were late home,’ he said, sitting next to her and putting his arms around her.
