The Loyal Servant (22 page)

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Authors: Eva Hudson

Tags: #Westminster, #scandal, #Murder, #DfES, #Government, #academies scandal, #British political thriller, #academies programme, #labour, #crime fiction, #DfE, #Thriller, #Department for Education, #whistleblower, #prime minister, #Evening News, #Catford, #tories, #academy, #London, #DCSF, #Education

BOOK: The Loyal Servant
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29

Tate had phoned just as Caroline was getting ready for bed. She wouldn’t normally have answered, but the call came through on her own mobile, from a number she didn’t recognise. Tate then hung up and immediately called her back using the pay-as-you-go phone.

Caroline listened to most of what the journalist told her in a daze, all she could really think about was the fact that Pete worked for one of the companies on the list. One of the unscrupulous, feckless, court-dodging organisations, and all the time he never said a word about any of it. Never said a word about two fatalities and three serious injuries at his firm. How could he go on working for a company like that?

She’d put the phone down and made herself a cup of tea. Then sat at the kitchen table and watched it go cold. She couldn’t stop her mind racing with everything Tate had told her. The health and safety records of all the companies on the list were appalling. In the course of her job she’d met a lot of the project managers in charge of the construction work, even visited a few of the building sites. On every occasion, everything seemed well organised and properly administered. The companies wouldn’t have made it onto the list of government-approved contractors without meeting the highest health and safety standards. Something somewhere had gone seriously wrong with the vetting procedure.

She got up and emptied and refilled the kettle again. While she waited for it to boil she wiped down the counter tops and cleaned the sink. By the time it had boiled she’d gone off the idea of tea and started to tidy the contents of the kitchen drawers. She was doing everything on autopilot, going over the facts again and again. She’d asked Tate to tell her specifically about VL Construction, but hadn’t told her why.

According to Tate, the company Pete worked for had escaped court appearances for all the cases listed on the spreadsheet and hadn’t even paid out any money in compensation to the injured workers or the families of the two men who had died. It was suggested at the time that the accidents were caused by sloppy work practices and institutionalised corner-cutting. But nothing had been proved.

Pete wouldn’t have just turned a blind eye to that kind of company-wide negligence. His firm must have been keeping him in the dark. She checked the time. It had just turned midnight and Pete still wasn’t home. There were so many questions she needed to ask him.

She fretted for another 25 minutes before hearing his key scrape against the lock in the front door. She hurried into the hall and watched him stagger over the front step, blinking at the bright light.

‘Do you know what time it is?’ Caroline closed the door as quietly as she could behind him.

He swayed towards her. She put her hands against his chest to keep him upright.

‘I must have lost track.’ He laid a big hand over both of hers. ‘It’s OK, Caz – I’m not Cinderella – I can survive after midnight without turning into a rat… or whatever it is.’

‘Have you been drinking all evening?’

She could see him trying hard to focus on her.

‘Come with me.’ She slipped her hands from under his and turned back to the kitchen.

Pete shuffled along behind her, exhaling beer and whisky fumes. She sat him down at the kitchen table and flicked on the kettle, then spent the next 20 minutes watching him drink a mug of strong black coffee and a pint and a half of water. He drained his mug, swallowed the two paracetamols she’d pressed into his hand and pushed back his chair.

‘I feel much better – thanks babe. Let’s go up now, shall we?’

‘We need to talk.’

He rubbed his hands up and down his unshaven cheeks and let out a low moan. ‘Talk?’ He stood up quickly and lurched sideways, grabbing the edge of the table. ‘I’m not going to make much sense right now. Let’s talk in the morning.’

‘I’ve been waiting for you to come home.’

Pete smiled and opened his arms wide. ‘And here I am. Can we leave it for now?’ He tugged at her sleeve. ‘I promise never to stay out this late again. OK?’ He stared at her with bloodshot eyes. ‘Whatever else you want to talk about can wait a few hours, can’t it?’ He pulled up his sleeve and stared long and hard at his watch. ‘Bloody hell. It is late. I’ve got an early start in the morning.’

‘Maybe you should have thought about that before you went to the pub.’

‘Please, Caz. I’ve got to get to Maidstone before eight.’

‘Sit down.’

‘For fuck’s sake.’ He collapsed back onto the chair and buried his head in his hands. ‘I really need to get to bed, I just—’

‘What’s in Maidstone?’

‘What?’ He emerged slowly from his hands. ‘Work – work’s in Maidstone.’

‘Tell me about it.’

He rubbed his eyes. ‘You do pick your moments. Why’d you want to talk about my work now? You’ve never taken an interest before.’

‘This Maidstone job – would it be the Mote and Medway Business Academy, by any chance?’

‘How’d you know that?’

‘How many other academy building projects have you worked on?’

He shrugged. ‘I don’t know… I don’t keep count.’

‘And you never thought to mention it to me?’

He screwed up his face, trying to understand, as if she’d asked him a particularly testing question. ‘Why would I?’

‘For God’s sake, Pete. I work in the academies division – don’t you think I might have been interested? Why didn’t you tell me?’

He shrugged again. ‘You never asked.’ He eased himself off the chair, carefully negotiated the edge of the table and made it as far as the fridge. ‘I’m going to bed.’

‘We have to talk, Pete. It can’t wait.’ Caroline struggled to keep her voice down, aware her mother was asleep in the next room.

‘I’m sorry I’m so late. I’m sorry I’m so drunk. What else do you want from me?’

‘I need to know…’ She took a breath. ‘Did you know the men who died working at your firm?’

‘What?’ He was struggling again to focus on her. ‘How do you know about them?’

‘Were they friends of yours?’

‘Why are you asking me about this now?’

‘Because I’ve only just found out. Did you know them?’

Pete nodded and closed his eyes. He swayed sideways and leaned into the fridge.

‘And were you working with them when they died?’

He opened his eyes and dragged a hand down his face. ‘I was on site.’

‘Did you see what happened to them?’

‘Please, Caz – I can’t talk about this now. I don’t feel up to it.’

‘Why didn’t you tell me about it at the time?’

He sighed. ‘You wouldn’t have understood. I know what you’re like – everything’s black or white in your book.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘We can’t all be as perfect as you.’

‘What are you saying?’

Pete swallowed and traced the tip of his tongue over his cracked bottom lip.

‘Answer me, Pete!’ Her heart was thumping.

‘There was nothing I could do.’

‘You were there, when they died?’

He nodded. ‘I’d been telling them for years something was going to happen. No one took any notice.’ He ran a hand over his head. ‘You can’t save that amount of money with no consequences.’

Caroline blinked. ‘You knew they were cutting corners?’

‘How could I not know? Work in the same firm that long and you become part of the furniture. They talk about all sorts of stuff in front of you like they don’t even notice you’re there.’

‘Men have
died
!’ She couldn’t catch her breath. ‘How can you live with that on your conscience?’

‘Live with myself? You call this living? Why do you think I’ve been drinking myself fucking senseless most nights?’

‘How could you just stand back and let it happen? Why didn’t you report them?’

‘Yeah, well. Maybe it’s not as simple as that.’

‘It’s always as simple as that. A choice between wrong and right.’

‘See? You and your moral high ground. Don’t stand there and judge me. You don’t know anything about it.’

‘I don’t know because you never bloody talk to me. If you could just—’

There was a noise from upstairs. A moaning in the floorboards

‘You’ve woken the kids,’ she said.

‘That was me, was it?’ He walked to the back door and leaned his forehead against the glass.

‘Pete… it’s not too late. You can still do the right thing.’

‘And what might that be?’

‘Go to the police. Tell them everything you know.’

‘You’ve got no fucking idea. And what do you think would happen to me then?’

‘You’d find other work.’

Pete let out a long slow breath – his whole body seemed to shake. He turned back to face her. ‘Don’t you get it? It was just as much my fucking fault as anyone else’s.’ He thumped a hand on his chest. ‘Me! If I go to the authorities, I’d be grassing myself up as well as Larson’s.’

‘Larson’s?’ A breath caught in her throat.

Pete looked at her for a moment. ‘You didn’t know I work for Larson’s?’

‘You’ve never actually said.’ Caroline put a hand on the kitchen counter to steady herself. Angela Tate hadn’t mentioned that. Was it possible she didn’t even know?


VL Construction
?’ he said. ‘
Valerie Larson
Construction. All Larson’s companies are registered offshore. Some tax dodge or something.’

‘How could it have been your fault as much as there’s?’

‘Lose concentration for a second and bang!’ He slapped his hands together. ‘Andy. Really young bloke, couldn’t have been more than 23, 24.’

Caroline remembered seeing an Andrew Brown listed on the spreadsheet.

‘They don’t train them properly anymore. Don’t even give them hard hats. Supposed to provide their own.’

‘What happened?’

‘I was supervising him. But I got called away. Some other balls up about to kick off, wrong mix of cement for the concrete foundations.’ Pete screwed up his eyes, as if he was trying to banish whatever image his memory had conjured. ‘I got back to him, five, ten minutes later. A forklift had backed right into him. He didn’t hear it coming. He was wearing earphones, stupid bloody sod. On a building site!’

‘How was that your fault?’

‘I was responsible for his safety.’

‘But that would all have come out at the inquest, exactly who was responsible. You would have had to explain everything – the lack of training, the missing safety equipment.’

‘Yeah, well, I didn’t.’ He pinched the top of his nose. ‘Fred Larson himself had a little chat with me. Made it quite clear what was expected.’

‘He asked you to lie?’

‘There wasn’t anything else I could do.’

‘Pete! For God’s sake – what were you thinking?’

‘I had no choice.’

‘Of course you did.’

He turned away. ‘He’s very well connected, old man Larson.’ He dragged his fingertips across his scalp. ‘I’d be propping up a flyover in no time if I didn’t go along with him.’

‘That’s ridiculous – he’s not the Mafia.’

‘You’ve got no fucking clue.’

A door creaked open upstairs.

‘A mother’s son dies in your care and you lie about it out of some misplaced sense of loyalty? Worried you might upset your employer? What about the other man who was killed? Did you lie about him too?’

‘I’m going to bed.’

‘No you’re not!’

‘There’s nothing more to say. I’ve got an early start.’

‘How can you go on, day after day, working for that company?’

‘Drop it, Caz. I don’t want to talk about it anymore.’

‘Did you lie about the other death?’ She thumped a fist against his chest. ‘Was that something else you agreed to cover up?’

‘You’ll never understand. There’s no point even trying to explain.’

She thumped him again. ‘You mean I’ll never understand that my husband’s a coward?’ She drew her hand back again and he caught hold of her wrist, gripping it tight in his fist.

‘Don’t you ever call me that!’

‘Why not? It’s what you are.’ She tried to pull her hand away, but his grip tightened.

‘I mean it, Caz.’

‘Let go of me!’ She struggled against his grasp. ‘What have you turned into?’

Pete released her hand. ‘I’m sorry I can’t live up to your standards. But you know what? Nobody can.’

‘Get out,’ she said quietly.

‘I’ve been trying to.’

‘Get out of my house.’

‘What?’

‘You heard me. I don’t want you anywhere near the kids.’

The kitchen door flew open. Ben stood in the doorway, his face flushed, his eyes brimming with tears. He ran to his dad and threw his arms around Pete’s thighs, squeezing tight. Pete twisted awkwardly and stared at Caroline, an imploring look on his face.

She ignored him and bent down and kissed the top of Ben’s head. ‘Ten minutes,’ she said. ‘I’ll pack you a bag.’

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