Authors: Ann Cleeves
George had expected to sleep badly, but he woke early the next morning to squally sunshine and the surprised gratitude which always came after a full night’s rest.
It had rained very heavily in the night. Surface water had gathered in a dip in the lawn. The restaurant had only just opened for breakfast and he ate alone.
From the phone in the lobby he used his charge-card to call the pub where Molly was staying in Devon. The landlord said she had gone away for a couple of days to research her book but she’d asked him to keep the room for her and he expected her back that evening.
‘Any message?’ the landlord asked, curious, shouting against the noise of the lunchtime drinkers.
‘No,’ George said. ‘No message. I’ll try again later.’ He was disappointed, unreasonably cross with Molly because she was taking so long to get a result.
He phoned Laurie’s house. The call was taken by a teenage girl, monosyllabic and sullen. He asked to speak to Laurie.
The girl was suspicious. ‘Why? Who is it?’ Perhaps they had been troubled by reporters, ghouls and cranks.
‘A friend of your father’s,’ he said and gave his name.
Laurie seemed relaxed, almost cheerful.
‘Hi, George! How can I help you?’
‘I’ve a few more questions I’m afraid. I was wondering if I might come to see you.’
‘Sure. But I was planning a trip into Houston today. Why don’t you meet me there? We could have lunch. And it would save you a little travelling.’
‘Why not?’ he said, but he would have preferred a different arrangement. London was the only large city he’d ever felt comfortable in.
She suggested a place in the Galleria and gave him directions. He wrote them down then went to the reception desk to borrow a street map of the city centre. Connie May was on her way out of the restaurant.
‘I’m going into Houston,’ he said. ‘You have friends there, don’t you? Would you like a lift? Perhaps you could arrange to meet them.’
For a moment she seemed taken aback. ‘That’s very kind,’ she said. ‘ But I’d rather stay here. Close to Russell. I know it’s silly but I’d feel easier in my mind.’ As if she could protect her husband.
‘He could come too.’
‘No. He wouldn’t want to leave High Island. He thinks the rain might have brought some more birds.’
‘I’ll come with you!’ It was Julia Adamson. He had not seen her. She must have been listening. She smiled at him. ‘You will give me a lift Mr Palmer-Jones, won’t you? I’ve been trying to persuade Oliver to take me all week.’
‘I expect he had other things on his mind,’ George murmured. He meant the murder of an old friend but she did not notice the sarcasm.
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘This bloody bird race.’
‘They still intend to go ahead with it?’
‘Madness, isn’t it? They seem keener than ever. You will take me Mr Palmer-Jones won’t you? I could be ready in a moment.’
He paused. She took his hesitation as consent, thanked him and hurried away.
It took her half an hour to prepare for the trip. He waited with mounting impatience. He hated to be late. When Molly said she was almost ready it meant she had to grab a coat. Or change from the tennis shoes with the holes in to the new baseball boots their daughter had given her for Christmas. She seldom bothered to brush her hair. When Julia finally appeared she was very glossy. Very made up.
They walked round the house to the old stable yard where his car was parked. The drains were full and the trees were sodden. A mini bus drove down the drive and pulled up outside the kitchen door. A dozen officers, dressed in overalls and waterproof boots got out.
‘My God!’ Julia said. ‘Do we get individual body guards now?’
‘I think they’re here to make a detailed search of the grounds.’ He had expected it before.
‘Isn’t that a question of shutting the stable door once the horse has bolted?’
The flippant tone annoyed him. ‘They haven’t found either murder weapon yet. They searched the Boy Scout reserve after Michael died and found the iron post which caused the head wound but not the chisel which stabbed him. They’ll be looking for the object used to kill Esme Lovegrove too.’
‘Oh!’ She put her hand to her mouth.
They drove to Houston in silence. The fields on either side of them were covered in the water which had drained from the road. The traffic was heavy and they sat in a queue on the outskirts of the city. At the Galleria, George chose an underground car-park. He and Julia took the lift together into the shopping centre.
‘I’ll meet you back at the car in three hours,’ he said.
‘Only three hours!’ she exclaimed in mock horror.
‘I’ll have you know, Mr Palmer-Jones, that I’m a serious shopper.’
‘If you’re not there I’ll go without you.’ She began a little laugh, thinking that he was teasing, then saw that he was not.
The lift doors opened and they stepped out into a crowded mall.
‘My wife’s in Bristol today,’ he said.
She turned sharply towards him but before she could ask what he meant he walked off. That would give her something to think about while she was shopping.
The Galleria complex was a tiered, covered amphitheatre built around an oval ice rink. Lines of children, holding hands, swooped and glided over the ice. The shops seemed expensive, the piped music generally discreet. There were occasional touches of Texan brashness to relieve the blandness: a small shop selling nothing but cowboy hats and boots, rows of denim skirts and blouses covered in diamante and coloured embroidery, stalls selling the biggest ice creams he had ever seen.
He saw Laurie from a distance. She did not notice him. She was sitting at a table outside a French café on the same level as the rink, watching the children. She wore jeans and boots and a white button-down shirt. No hat though. Not like the first time the boys had seen her walking down the road from Winnie. On the chair beside her were two shiny carrier bags with rope handles and gold lettering. She too had been shopping. It seemed an inappropriate occupation for a newly bereaved woman and he was oddly shocked.
When she saw him walk towards her she moved the bags from the chair so he could sit down. She must have sensed his disapproval because she said: ‘I bought some treats for the kids. It’s been a tough time for them and they’ve been great.’ Her hair was loose and she pushed it away from her face with the palm of her hand. ‘More questions, you said.’
‘I’ve been talking to Mary Ann about Oaklands.’
‘Ah.’ It seemed almost like a sigh of relief.
‘Why didn’t you tell me?’
‘It didn’t seem right. If she hadn’t told you first it would have been kind of snitching.’
‘Why?’
‘You work it out for yourself. She didn’t exactly feel friendly to Brownscombe Associates, then Michael got murdered. People might take that the wrong way.’
‘But you didn’t? You didn’t think Mary Ann killed Michael?’
‘Of course not. She’s family. I’ve known her since she was a kid.’
‘But you made life awkward for her?’
‘Nah!’ A waitress came. They ordered coffee, savoury croissants. Laurie grinned. ‘Well maybe a little awkward. I mean I’d been brought up to think of the Oaklands Hotel as my home too in a way. I didn’t have anywhere else. I guess I thought I should have a stake in it. When I saw what she was making out of that place it made me mad. Michael thought I was crazy to mind so much. “Just let it go,” he’d say. “We’re doing all right.” But I couldn’t. I made him come with me to visit, just to let Mary Ann know that I was still interested.’
‘What were you hoping for?’
‘I don’t know. Some way of being part of it I suppose. It wasn’t just the money.’ She paused. ‘I went there when things were bad at my parents’ place. It was always special for me.’
‘Then she told you about the wildlife sanctuary?’
‘Yes, and I suggested we could plan it and run it for her. It was just the sort of thing I was hoping for. You’d have thought she’d have jumped at the chance of giving us the contract. We’d have given her a good deal.’
‘But she didn’t jump at it?’
‘No, she was real sniffy. At first anyway.’
‘She thought you were blackmailing her.’
‘No! It wasn’t like that.’
‘You told her you’d sue for a share in the hotel.’
‘Hey, I say things when I get mad. Are you joking? Do you know how much it would cost to bring in the lawyers? I thought life was comfortable for her. Like you said, maybe I just wanted to be awkward.’
‘And it worked didn’t it? Mary Ann gave you the contract.’
‘Yes, it worked. And though she might not admit it we work pretty well together. She liked some of my ideas.’
The waitress came up behind them and filled their glasses with iced water, their cups with coffee.
‘Like entering a team in the Birdathon. That was your idea, wasn’t it?’
‘Sure.’ She looked up at him. Her face was freckled and there were crumbs around her mouth. ‘Mick was looking forward to it, being part of the old team again.’
‘I think the Birdathon should be cancelled,’ George said slowly. ‘Or if that’s not possible at least the Oaklands team should pull out. What do you think? Should the race be scratched?’
‘Heck no! Let it go ahead. As a memorial to Mick if you like. He would have liked that.’
‘You’ve heard there’s been another murder?’
‘Yes.’ She gave a sudden and wicked smile. ‘Mary Ann’s going to need as much good publicity as she can get after two murders within spitting distance of the new reserve. And I’ve got a financial stake in the project being a success. Maybe I should take part myself.’
Despite himself he admired her refusal to pretend at a grief she did not feel.
‘I don’t think that would be a good idea,’ he said.
‘Maybe not.’ She got up and walked into the café to find the restroom. As soon as she had disappeared through the door he stooped and looked in the shiny carrier bags under the table. In one there was a parcel, already gift wrapped. On the label she had written: ‘For Paul, all my love, Mom.’ In the other there was a dress which even he could tell Laurie would never wear. So she had not been lying about the shopping. He wondered if she had been equally truthful during the rest of the conversation.
Laurie made her way back to the table. She smiled at a young waiter, who watched her until she sat down.
‘Tell me about your children,’ George said. ‘ How old are they?’
‘Paul’s sixteen. Laura’s fourteen.’
‘Laura’s named after you?’
‘Yes. That’s right.’
‘And Paul?’
‘Mick chose that. He was very keen. I think perhaps it was a family name.’
‘He had a close friend called Paul Butterworth,’ George said.
‘Did he?’ It seemed to mean nothing to her. ‘Perhaps that was it then. Funny though. I don’t think he ever mentioned him.’
‘Did he talk about any of his friends?’
‘Only Rob and Ollie, and not them much.’
‘He had a girlfriend, you know, when he was at school. He wrote to her while he was at university.’
‘Did he?’ She seemed surprised, impressed. ‘He never said.’
‘Her name was Nell. Helen.’
She shook her head. She wasn’t much interested in what Mick had done before he met her. A child skated past them. He was alone, frowning with concentration, his hands clasped behind his back.
‘I used to bring my kids here,’ Laurie said. ‘They won’t come now. They think they’re too old.’
‘You told me Michael’s parents wouldn’t come to your wedding.’
‘That’s right.’ She looked away from the skating boy. It was not a question she had been expecting.
‘They were never invited,’ George said. ‘My wife’s spoken to them. They didn’t find out about it until afterwards.’
‘Mick told me he’d asked them.’
‘But you’re not surprised he didn’t?’
She shrugged. ‘ Look, I never found out what was going on in that family. I gave Mick the chance to talk about it but he didn’t want to. That was all right by me. I wouldn’t have wanted him prying into the things that went on under our roof when I was a kid.’ She shivered slightly. ‘ I asked them to the funeral.’
‘I know. They won’t come.’
She shrugged again. She didn’t care.
‘Can I ask about something that happened when you first went to High Island with Mick and the others?’
She nodded.
‘The night before you left Oaklands there was a storm. The electricity was off. You were talking in the boys’ room, playing a truth game. When they asked which of the three you liked best, why did you choose Mick?’
She didn’t ask how he knew about that evening or pretend not to remember, but she took a long time to answer. He had to prompt her:
‘You did say that you could have had whichever one you chose.’
‘That’s right.’
‘So why Mick?’
She turned away from the ice rink and looked at him, suddenly serious.
‘You want the truth? Like in the game?’
‘Of course.’
‘I thought he was damaged goods,’ she said. ‘I recognized the feeling. But that was only part of it. I knew I could make whatever I wanted out of him. After years of being bossed around I saw he was someone who’d do just what I told him.’
‘And did you get what you expected?’
‘Oh, yes,’ she said. ‘Pretty much.’
Julia arrived at the car just on time, hurrying. She was breathless and her arms were full of packages. But there was none of the elation of the serious shopper who’s just had a fix. His remark about Bristol had worried her. George was pleased about that.
On the freeway he tuned the car radio into a classical music station so he would not have to talk to her. Occasionally he thought she was about to start a conversation, to ask him perhaps what Molly was doing in Bristol, but she did not find the courage and when they arrived at the hotel she scurried off, hardly making time to thank him for the lift. He presumed she had gone to find Oliver.
Mary Ann was waiting for him in the lobby. She knew he had been to see Laurie. She took him into the small lounge where the same old man slept soundly in his chair.
‘She won’t sue,’ George said.
‘Are you sure?’