Behind Closed Doors (34 page)

‘You have my word.’

‘OK, well the Poynters are running these shoplifting scams with some Eastern European connection. I don’t know exactly who’s involved, but my brother was. He won’t tell you himself because he hates the police . . .’

‘Suzi, when did you last see the news?’

‘I have to admit I’ve been avoiding it.’

‘Then if I were you I’d go and turn on the TV. A lot’s happened in the last twelve hours. But before you do, can we get you on this number if we need to speak to you further?’

Suzi fell silent.

‘It might not be necessary,’ Andee assured her, ‘but . . .’

‘I want to start again,’ Suzi interrupted. ‘I’ve been offered a job at a new spa in Dorset. I don’t want this following me.’

‘I understand that, and there probably won’t be any reason for it to, but just in case . . .’

Reluctantly, Suzi said, ‘OK, you’ve got my number, but I swear I don’t really know anything.’

‘All right. Good luck in your new job.’

After ringing off Andee called the custody sergeant. ‘How are the Monroes this morning?’ she asked.

‘Quiet,’ he replied. ‘Neither of them ate breakfast. The van’s just turned up to take them to court.’

Day one of a journey they’d never planned, and would never come back from
. The irrevocable often made her feel panicked and helpless, and it was happening now.

‘So no changes to their story overnight?’

‘Not a word out of them, although she was crying a lot.’

Unsurprised, she said, ‘OK, thanks. I should go.’

Taking her phone upstairs she closed the bedroom door and scrolled to Graeme’s number. Instead of pressing to connect, she stood staring at it for a while, wanting to speak to him, but not sure what to say. Today was all about her family, which didn’t mean she should carry on as though he didn’t exist, because that wouldn’t feel right at all. He did exist and she was glad of it. Were it possible she’d go to him now, if only to look into his eyes as she told him what she was already typing into a text.

Thinking of you. Missing you. Will call as soon as I can. Ax.
After hitting send she sat where she was for a moment, imagining him picking up the message, and feeling relieved that she’d finally been in touch. She thought of other things about him, and her eyes closed as her breathing became shallow.

Then, putting the phone aside, she went into the bathroom to start getting ready for Dougie’s farewell.

By the time everyone had assembled at the South Kesterly crematorium it was past one o’clock, making it a late start for the service, but no one seemed to mind. If anything the atmosphere was almost merry as various luminaries from far and wide gathered outside the red-brick hall, along with over two hundred friends from the town, which was exactly how Dougie had wanted it. He’d left a detailed list of instructions concerning this day, from who he wanted to carry his coffin, to the celebrant he’d chosen, to who was to do the readings and what they should be. No flowers, he’d insisted, only donations to various local charities; no tears, only funny memories; and no hymns, just a few of his favourite songs.

Although everything went off more or less as he’d planned, there weren’t many dry eyes by the time everyone started to file out of the hall. He’d been a popular man, and now he was no longer amongst them Andee could see how keen everyone was to talk to his son. Watching Martin as he accepted their condolences and listened good-naturedly to their stories, she was still feeling the warmth of his hand in hers, and the tightness of his grip during the more difficult moments of the service. Though his voice had faltered once or twice as he’d read the tribute he’d written, on the whole he was keeping it together well. The time for proper, private grieving wouldn’t begin until today was over.

With Alayna and her mother either side of her, Andee took her turn to greet their friends as they spilled on to the forecourt, while keeping an eye on Luke, who was doing a magnificent job of supporting his father.

How proud Dougie would have been of them.

How fortunate her children were to be a part of this family.

Though the sadness of Dougie’s parting was weighing on her, and memories of her own father kept swamping her, she still couldn’t stop thinking about Sophie, and how she too had once been at the heart of a loving family. How swiftly things had changed for her, how randomly, even cruelly life had thrown out its challenges with no direction on how to cope, or apparent care for how young and vulnerable she was.

Catching Gould’s eye, she felt her heart turn over as she nodded to let him know that the news had reached her – Sophie’s body had been found and brought to the shore. Sometime within the next forty-eight hours they should know how she’d died, and soon after that she’d be brought back to Kesterly. A lonely, final journey with no one to meet her at this end. Andee was already dreading this.

‘Are you OK?’ she asked Martin as he came to join her.

Nodding, he slipped an arm around Alayna and pressed a kiss to her forehead. ‘Party time,’ he murmured, his eyes a little too bright as he managed to sound and look very like his father. Andee could tell how close he was to the edge and wanted to hold on to him, but she knew that any show of emotion on her part would only make it harder for him.

Giving her a wink as though he might have read her mind, he said, ‘We won’t have much of an opportunity to talk today, but I was hoping I could see you sometime tomorrow, or . . .’ he shrugged, ‘whenever works for you.’

‘Of course,’ she replied, suspecting she knew what it was about. She had so many decisions to reach over the next few days, questions to ask herself and answers to find, but she wasn’t going to think about any of them now.

‘A lovely service,’ Gould commented, coming to join her. ‘I get the feeling Dougie was in charge.’

‘Of course,’ she confirmed. ‘It made things a lot easier knowing what he wanted. Maybe we should all do the same.’

He arched an ironic eyebrow. ‘The Monroes should be in front of the magistrate any time now,’ he said, glancing at his watch.

Nodding soberly, she found herself feeling for their fear, until the thought of Sophie sucked up every ounce of pity in her heart.

‘Sikora’s disappeared,’ he told her.

Her eyes widened.

‘Barry found the place deserted when he went round there earlier. Apparently the care home, where Kasia works, are saying she rang late yesterday to let them know she wouldn’t be coming in again.’

‘So they’ve done a moonlight?’

‘It would appear so.’

Though not entirely surprised, she felt the frustration of not having Sikora’s evidence to help convict his employers.

‘He’s not the only one who’s turned against the Poynters,’ Gould reminded her. ‘And it isn’t your case, so not your problem.’

True, but Sikora probably knew more than most about how the operation had been run, and besides she’d never be comfortable with people simply disappearing, no matter who they were. ‘Are you looking for him?’

‘Of course, and I’m sure we’ll find him.’

Knowing she had to leave it there, she said, ‘I still haven’t watched the news today, but I guess the press are having a lot to say about how long it took us –
me
– to get round to the parents.’

Gould didn’t deny it. ‘You weren’t the only one on the investigation,’ he reminded her.

‘But I was leading it, and I let my own issues . . .’ She took a breath. ‘If I hadn’t kept seeing my own father every time I looked at him . . . Monroe put on such a good show and I just didn’t want it to
be
him . . .’

‘Maybe not, but it was you who got us there in the end.’

‘It should have been sooner.’

‘It wouldn’t have saved her.’

No, it wouldn’t have.

Nevertheless she could feel something opening up and screaming way down inside her. How desperately she’d wanted that girl to be alive. It was as though if she had been, then maybe Penny would be too. Such nonsense, but nothing about what had happened to either of them came anywhere near making sense. ‘I’m prepared to take full responsibility for how long it did take,’ she told him. ‘I should have . . .’

‘We can discuss it another time,’ he interrupted, as her mother came to join them, ‘your family needs your attention now,’ and shaking Maureen’s hand he said, ‘It’s good to see you, though I could have wished for better circumstances.’

‘Indeed,’ Maureen agreed. ‘It’s kind of you to come.’

He looked round as the stewards began ushering everyone towards their cars.

‘You’re coming to the reception?’ Maureen queried.

‘I’m afraid I have to get back,’ he replied, ‘but I didn’t want to miss the service.’ To Andee he said, ‘Can I have a quick word?’

Following him to the edge of the crowd, she looked expectantly into his eyes.

‘I think you should take a few days off,’ he told her, ‘spend this time with your family.’

‘But Sophie . . .’

‘I’ll keep you up to speed with everything as it happens,’ he assured her, ‘but it’s unlikely she’ll be back much before the beginning of next week.’

As she watched him walk away, threading through the crowd and finally disappearing from view, Andee was aware of a disturbing nervousness beginning to stir inside her, a strange, almost frightening sense of things changing in ways she wasn’t sure she wanted to face.

It was much later that day, as she kicked off her shoes and sank on to the edge of her bed, that she received a text from Tomasz Sikora.
This is my new number. I don’t want anyone to know where we are, but when you need me to give evidence I will come. Tomasz
.

Realising he probably didn’t have a number for anyone else she forwarded the message to Hassan, and scrolled to the text she’d received from Graeme earlier in the day.

Thinking of you and missing you too. There will be time for us when this is over. Call if you need to talk. Gx

She’d have dearly loved to talk now, or even go over there, but she wouldn’t, not while she was feeling so emotional, nor when her mother and the children needed her. This was where she belonged tonight, and it was very probably the only place she really wanted to be.

The following afternoon, leaving everyone else at home, Andee and Martin strolled through Bourne Hollow, past the pub and around to the sloping banks of the headland to climb the rocky outcrop of Seaman’s Spit. Though the rain had stopped during the night and the wind had relaxed into a gentle wafting of salty air, a bilious mountain of cloud was rising over the horizon like a threatened invasion from another world.

Finding an empty lookout bench they sat down together and watched a family of rabbits bobbing in and out of burrows, while glossy white gulls swooped and soared around the bay.

‘It all feels a bit strange now everyone’s leaving,’ Martin commented, as he rested his elbows on the seat back. ‘It was quite a party though, wasn’t it?’

‘One of his best,’ Andee agreed. ‘How many bands played in the end?’

‘Four. He’d have loved every minute of it.’

‘What always mattered to him was that everyone should have a good time, and I don’t think anyone can say they didn’t.’

Martin’s smile was wry. ‘Not if the amount of booze we got through was anything to go by – a goodly amount of which was consumed by our children, I noticed.’

‘They’re paying for it today,’ she assured him. ‘How are you feeling?’

‘A bit rough round the edges,’ he admitted, ‘but I expected to.’

They sat quietly for a while, as though allowing the memories of Dougie’s final farewell to catch in the breeze and connect them to wherever he was now.

Could he be with Penny and her father, she wondered. How she longed for her sister and her father to be together.

In the end Martin was the first to speak. ‘Have you heard when they’re bringing Sophie back?’

‘Not yet. The French don’t act quickly, and they still have to carry out the post-mortem.’

‘I see. And what’ll happen when she gets here? I mean about a funeral.’

Andee’s head started to spin. ‘I’m not sure. I need to talk to someone about that.’ She turned to look at him. ‘Tell me what you’re planning to do next?’ she said, needing to get off the subject.

Taking a breath, he let his eyes drift out to sea as he replied, ‘I guess that kind of depends on you.’

Though her heart contracted, it was more or less the reply she’d expected.

‘Is it serious?’ he asked, bringing his eyes back to hers.

Though she understood his meaning, she found herself unable to answer.

‘Is it someone I know?’

She shook her head and glanced down at her phone as it signalled the arrival of a text. ‘It’s a message from the vicar at St Mark’s,’ she told him.

He looked baffled.

‘Sophie went to the church a few times after her mother died,’ she explained. ‘I thought . . . I needed to talk to someone who knew the real Sophie. Discuss what should happen.’ Pushing her hands through her hair, she inhaled deeply and closed her eyes. ‘I want to see her when she comes back,’ she said. ‘I feel she needs me to be there for her.’ She glanced up at him. ‘Does that sound crazy?’

‘Not at all, but is it wise if she’s been in the water for so long?’

Maybe not wise, but it was something she had to do. ‘What do
you
want to happen next?’ she asked.

His eyes dropped as an anxious look tightened his face. ‘I think you know the answer to that.’

Yes, she did, but she still didn’t know how to answer it. Her thoughts were with Graeme, in his shop, his home, travelling to Italy . . . She’d always wanted to go to Italy.

‘Before you turn me down,’ he said gruffly, ‘will you at least hear me out?’

Feeling his unease, perhaps it was dread, fluttering about the beats of her own heart, she squeezed his hand as she said, ‘Of course.’

‘I realise you’ve made a life for yourself and the kids in Kesterly,’ he began. ‘I know you’re happy here and wouldn’t want to move, but that’s not what I’m asking. Actually, I’m not really asking for anything, apart from the chance to try and win you back.’

There was a self-mocking light in his troubled eyes that touched her deeply.