Forget-Me-Nots in September (6 page)

“But it's a good offer,” the man insisted.

Bev frowned. “I'll take a leaflet.”

“You'll think about it?” the man asked, holding the paper out.

Bev snatched it and tucked it in his pocket. “No, I'm going to ring the number on it and report you for harassment. Now, leave before I call the police.” He pointed to the notice on the door which stated cold callers weren't welcome. He stepped past him, pushed Gran inside the house and shut the door.

“Thank you, dear.”

He hugged Gran. “You OK?”

“Yes, dear. Now I should go and finish that tea, because it won't make itself.”

Bev laughed. “It'd be nice if it did. Especially in the desert.”

Gran grinned and headed to the kitchen.

He opened the lounge door. “Jude?” He glanced in, not seeing her. “Jude?”

She peeped around the door. “Here.”

“Did you call the police? What did they say?” He picked the phone from the table as it rang. “Hello.”

“This is DI Jenson from Thames Valley Police. Is Jude Travis there? She called me from this number and we got cut off.”

“One moment.” Bev held out the phone. “It's for you. A DI Jenson.”

Jude took the handset, her hands visibly shaking. What could have scared her so much in the few minutes he'd been gone? Even her voice shook as she answered the call. “H-Hi. No, I'm at a neighbor's house. It's nothing, I—”

Bev shook his head and took the phone from her. “This is Bev King, her neighbor. It isn't nothing. She's had two tires slashed on her car and someone broke into the shop earlier this evening, and she thinks she's being followed.”

Jude scowled at him, folding her arms across her middle.

“And of course, she didn't mention any of this to me,” DI Jenson said. “I'm on my way. Keep her with you until I arrive.”

Bev gave her the address and hung up. “She said she'll be right over. How did you get through to a DI rather than uniform?”

“Milly's a friend,” Jude said quietly. “I rang her rather than bothering 101 because they'll only think I'm being paranoid.”

“She didn't seem to think so, or else she wouldn't be coming. By the way, I closed your front curtains and left a light on so it looks as if you're in.”

“Thank you.”

Gran came in with two mugs of tea. “Here, strong and sweet.”

Bev sat Jude down and took the teas. “Thanks, Gran.” He sat down and pressed a cup into Jude's hands.

She'd only taken a few sips, before a car pulled up outside, followed by another. She jumped and set the cup down.

Bev watched her visibly shrink as car doors slammed shut and footsteps moved up the path before the doorbell rang. What was going on here? This wasn't the self-assured girl he'd fallen in love with from her letters. If that was the police already, it was a faster response than he'd expected.

Gran came in with two plain clothes officers. “The police are here to see Jude.”

Jude glanced up.

The female officer with short black hair and piercing blue eyes moved swiftly across the room. “Jude, are you all right?”

She nodded.

The officer looked at Bev. “I'm DI Jenson, this is DS Holmes.”

Bev stood. “Bev King.” He shook hands, not surprised at the firmness of their grips. “Please, have a seat.”

DI Jenson sat beside Jude, taking her hand, while DS Holmes pulled out his notebook and sat the other side of the room. “Tell us what happened from the beginning.”

“I feel like a total idiot now,” Jude said. “Just wasting everyone's time.”

“Don't, and please don't miss bits out because they sound too silly. Mr. King mentioned you being followed, car tires being slashed, and a break-in at the bakery. That in no way is silly, that's an escalation of events.”

“OK. This has been going on since...” Jude told the officers everything, including the time she'd assumed she'd been sleep walking as things had gone missing from the house and washing line, or been moved, but now wasn't sure.

Bev listened with a growing sense of alarm. It sounded more and more like stalking to him, and judging from the look the two police officers exchanged, they'd reached the same conclusion. But Jude seemed to have relaxed a little having said what was going on.

“I want someone to check the car over before you get it repaired,” DI Jenson said. “Was the shop locked?”

“Kate said she'd lock up before she left. I normally go out the back way and set the alarm.”

“And it was the same bloke?”

“Yes. He was here earlier, I recognized his voice.”

Bev sat up straight. “What? When?”

“The bloke at the door when you went to look at the car and check the house.”

“The one Gran spoke to—the one I got rid of?” He pulled the leaflet from his pocket. “This one?”

DS Holmes took the leaflet. “I'll chase it up. I'll also go and speak to your grandmother and then track down this Kate. Do you have her address?”

“At the shop.”

DI Jenson nodded. “I'll call you with it, Nate. I'll take Miss Travis over to the shop now and check it out.” She turned to Jude. “I'll bring you home after.”

“OK.”

“Thank you for your time, Mr. King, and for informing us. We'll handle it from here.”

Bev stood up. “No worries. Gran is this way, sergeant.” He touched Jude's hand as she stood. “Are you still on for later or do you want to give it a miss?”

She tilted her head.

“The walk and cake test,” he reminded her.

She smiled. “I wouldn't miss it for the world. That cake won't eat itself. I'll call in when I get back.”

~*~

Jude locked the shop and let Milly drive her home. “Sorry I can't be more help.”

“At least we know how he got in. You need to get the locks changed.”

Jude nodded. “I'll do it first thing tomorrow morning.”

“Good. And if you see the bloke again you call us. No arguments.” Milly stopped at the lights. “So, tell me about Bev King.”

“Not much to tell. He's Mrs. Bowen's grandson.”

“And you're walking out with him, so I want the details.”

“I'm not walking out with him.” Jude frowned, worry flickering. “Are you still on duty?”

“Only if I need to be. You're going for a walk and eating cake with a bloke I've only just discovered exists, at the same time you tell me you've been stalked for weeks. I have every right as a friend to be concerned. So, details, girlfriend.”

“I can't tell you.”

“Don't give me that.” Milly's voice sharpened and sounded distinctly official. “I could just put his name into my computer back at the nick and see what turns up.”

Jude sighed. “Fine. He's in the army and that's why I can't tell you anything. He's on R and R and we met for the first time properly yesterday. Though I've been writing to him for two or three months now.”

Milly raised an eyebrow. “He's your squaddie?”

“That's why you're a cop.” Jude winked at her. “Please don't ask me more, because it'll put him in more danger than he's already in wherever he's based.”

“And you like him? Because his body language earlier gave away the fact he likes you.”

She huffed. “Like I said, we only met yesterday. But yeah, he's nice. Ruggedly handsome, funny, and a Christian. A few things he said in his letters make me think so anyway.” She paused. “But yes, I'll make sure before I commit to anything.”

Milly parked outside Jude's house. She pulled up the handbrake and turned in her seat. “Now, remember. If you see this bloke again—”

“Which bloke? Bev, or the other one?”

“The stalker,” Milly said sharply.

Jude resisted the urge to roll her eyes as her friend was only looking out for her. “Then I'll ring 101 or 999 if I'm threatened. Thank you. I'll call you tomorrow.” She hugged Milly and jumped out of the car. She ran up the path and let herself in. She noted that Milly waited until she was inside before pulling away.

She shut the door and leaned against it. Was she over reacting here? Perhaps it was nothing, although Milly and DS Holmes didn't seem to think so. She deadlocked the front door and went upstairs to close all the rest of the curtains. It wasn't quite dark yet, but wouldn't be long before it was.

The doorbell rang, making her jump. Then she shook her head. Stalkers or thieves didn't ring the doorbell. She peered through the spyhole, then opened the door.

Bev stood there, a bunch of forget-me-nots in his hand, and a smile lighting his eyes. Five o'clock shadow, or was it the beginnings of a beard, covered his chin. “Hi.” He held out the flowers. “These are for you.”

Jude took them. “Thank you. I love forget-me-nots. They're my favorite flower. Come in.”

“Thanks. Gran had a whole load in the garden, she won't miss a few.” He closed the door, raising an eyebrow as Jude deadlocked it immediately. “How are you doing? Other than jumpy and double locking doors.”

“Stupid, relieved someone else knows. Milly wants me to get the locks at the shop changed as there is a set of keys missing.”

“Then get the house ones changed as well,” Bev said firmly. “Whoever this bloke is knows where you live and from what you said could have been in here already moving things. Ring a locksmith now, and see if he could come out tonight to change the house locks and do the shop first thing tomorrow.”

“I don't…” Jude hesitated, worried about the callout fee. “Besides, I need your Gran's permission to change the locks.”

“You have mine,” Bev told her. He shook his head and grabbed the phone book. “Pick one,” he said tossing the book to her. “I'll call and stay while he comes out. And I'll pay for the new locks.” As she raised an eyebrow, he winked. “Well, the house ones, anyway.”

Jude pointed to one at random and gave him the phone. “I'll go and put the kettle on.” She headed into the kitchen while Bev spoke rapidly on the phone.

After a moment, he joined her. “OK, he'll be here in twenty minutes and at the bakery at nine tomorrow morning. So maybe we'll just eat cake tonight and go for a walk tomorrow. As your car is out of action tomorrow, I'll drive you in when you need to go.”

“At six in the morning?”

“Why not? I can help, maybe, and hang around until he's changed the locks there. I don't like to think of you being alone when some maniac has the spare keys.”

“Sounds good.” She smiled faintly, hoping it wasn't a maniac who had the missing keys. “The plates are in the middle cupboard, forks in the top drawer.”

Bev looked surprised. “Forks?”

“To eat the cake with.”

He shook his head. “That's a bit posh, isn't it? God gave us fingers long before forks were invented.”

“OK.” Jude tilted her head. “Forget the forks and plates. We'll just have to clean up the crumbs afterwards. Or we can use kitchen roll.”

Bev chuckled. “That would save on the washing up. Plates are kind of essential though, especially when eating curry.”

“Do you use your fingers for that too?” she asked, trying to keep a straight face. Around him she could forget her worries and just be herself. Something she hadn't been for a while, not since Jayden died.

“Oh, all the time,” he deadpanned.

Jude cut four slices of cake, putting two on each plate. “There you go. Both identical, bar the sprinkles on the top. One's green and one's yellow so I know which is which.”

“But red velvet cake should have red—oh, I see what you did there. Clever.”

She grinned. “Dig in. I'll make the coffee and join you.”

“Black with no sugar, please. As Gran would say, I'm sweet enough without needing the extra sugar.”

“Really?” she asked. “Then what do you do with all the sugar I send?”

“Give it to someone else. Nothing goes to waste out there.”

She poured the coffee. “Hmm, maybe you should pack your next box. I was going shopping tomorrow.”

“Nah, you get far more in a box than I ever could. Besides, if I packed it, then it wouldn't be a surprise when it came.” He grinned. “This cake is good.”

“Thank you. Now try the other piece.”

He did so as she took the cups over. “It's a shame you can't send me cake.”

“No homemade stuff in case we give the troops food poisoning,” she told him seriously.

“You're kidding.” He looked at her aghast. “Some of the wives send stuff out.”

“That's different. They're family and you are used to their cooking. I might put nuts in it and kill you.”

He studied her over the top of his cake. “I like nuts. But is that really one of the rules?”

She nodded. “Along with no top shelf stuff from the newsagents.”

“Now that I wouldn't want. I know most of the lads do, even some of the married ones, but I wouldn't.” He swallowed and looked hard at the cake. “It isn't easy being a Christian on the battlefield anyway, but there are some temptations I don't even want in my way to complicate things. The pastor in my parents' church on my last leave said ‘once seen something can never be unseen'. So I'd rather not see it if that makes sense.”

“It does.” She watched him, then broke off a piece of cake. “It must be hard on the married blokes out there.”

“It's part of the job. It's actually harder on the wives, to be honest. We're out there working, doing what we've been trained for. Yes, we're putting our lives on the line every minute of every day, but back here, they don't see it like we do. For example, when Op Minimize is on we're completely cut off. No one can contact home, to reassure them it's a drill, or just an injury, or that the PM or someone else has made an unannounced visit, and we're on lockdown.”