False Money (11 page)

‘I've given the police her laptop. That gives them her parents' email address, and the police will inform them of what's happened.'

Bea poured out tea. ‘What about Miss Drobny? She's still holding all Tomi's belongings.' And has already let her room again.

‘They'll see to all that.'

Chris stared at his empty plate. ‘I know you'll say it's not rational, but I feel responsible. My vanity caused me to drop out of university, where I might have learned something useful, just so that I could show off and make a film. To do this, I made use of my friends and trespassed on my father's good nature. My inflated ego! I thought myself no end of a genius when I won that prize. I thought the world was going to beat a path to my door, asking me to direct the next Hollywood blockbuster. Idiot that I am!

‘On top of that, as the police have pointed out, I've been making a fool of myself rushing around after Harry, actually hitting him. Stupid! Stupid! And now what? I've no job, no place at university, no stomach for making another film, no car. Not even a mobile phone, as I had to leave mine with the police. I can't help feeling Tomi wouldn't have died if I hadn't picked her out to star in my film. I feel responsible. And you tell me that I can't do anything to put things right?'

There was a long silence while Chris looked out over the snowbound garden, and CJ looked at him. CJ would want Chris to return to university, of course. Would he? No, thought Bea; probably not. And if he does, I'll think less of him.

Chris shook his head, more at himself than anyone else. ‘I got into the film-making without thinking it through, without any proper training. But I do have a flair for it. I think I'd better sign up for some courses, or get a job as a gofer with some film company or other. Start at the bottom.'

Bravo, thought Bea. ‘There is something else you can do, Chris. I'll bet you've got some unused footage of Tomi. You could splice it together with the best bits from the film and put it all on a DVD for her parents.'

Chris nodded and helped himself to a scone. The lines of strain around his eyes remained, but he tried to smile. ‘Wouldn't you know, I put Hermia's phone number on my mobile and said I'd ring her tonight. Now I can't even do that.'

Maggie pushed one of her sheets of paper towards him. ‘Oh yes, you can. I've got her number here. Simone gave it to me.'

‘
Hush a bye, baby . . .' Claire rocked the baby in her arms, smiling to him. He smiled back, well fed, clean and sleepy. ‘Time for bed, little one'.

SEVEN

C
hris and CJ stayed for supper, of course. They talked about Harry for a while, before moving on to discuss Oliver's return home and what sort of training Chris might go in for. CJ and Bea were mostly silent.

Oliver phoned, and Bea arranged a time to collect him. Later, she rang Max, who might be back from the Midlands by now, only to find he'd switched to his answerphone. She left a message, but no promise to dash over there to housekeep for them, because she was going to be busy the following day. She ached to think of the baby, her darling little grandchild, wailing unhappily to himself, but there . . . her interference had only made matters worse, hadn't it?

Only when their guests had gone, and Maggie was packing dirty dishes into the dishwasher, did Bea approach the delicate question of who had helped Maggie with her research. It would have been easy for the girl to say she'd had a friend call who'd volunteered to help, but Maggie hadn't mentioned it, which might mean that Zander – her on-off boyfriend – had been involved.

Zander was an intelligent, handsome man of mixed race, who'd found himself a job he liked and was climbing the career ladder. He was sensible, sensitive and serious about Maggie.

Maggie had been brought up by a petite, fluffy mother who'd denigrated her tall daughter at every turn. Maggie's father had disappeared into the woodwork when his daughter was two, which – having met the mother – Bea didn't find surprising. Maggie hadn't had much sense of self worth even before a short-lived marriage to a man who'd carried on criticizing her where her mother had left off.

In her late twenties, Maggie ran as fast as she could from commitment to men.

Zander patiently followed. An interesting situation. Bea's money was on Zander in the long run.

‘So,' said Bea, ‘if you didn't want us to know that Zander had helped you, why didn't you give him a black biro to match yours, instead of letting him use a fountain pen with blue ink in it?'

‘Mm?' Maggie blushed to the roots of her spiky hair. ‘Oh. Well. I told him about Tomi, and he offered to help. So he took some names, and I took others. I'm afraid my phone ran out of credit so I used your landline for a while. He put some more money on mine, so it's working again now. Sorry about that. I'll repay you, of course.'

‘Nonsense. Thank you, Maggie. I'd never have thought of ringing around like that and getting people to talk, and I'm glad Zander wanted to help.'

‘He's not my boyfriend.'

‘Of course not.' Tread carefully here. ‘But he's a very good friend and I like him.'

‘So do I. Not
that
way, of course, but as a friend. He said that what we did was like dropping a stone into a pond. The ripples would fan out and reach all sorts of people who knew Tomi in different ways, and that some of them might then phone back to whoever told them about her death, and they might then contact us. The only thing is that the landline might be busy for a while, maybe even a few days.'

‘All right by me, but won't it interfere with your work schedule?'

Maggie stretched and grimaced. ‘I'll make it up somehow. If Oliver comes home tomorrow, maybe he can help me out. That is, if he's not above such things, what with doing so well at uni and winning prizes and stuff.'

Bea was anxious. ‘Perhaps we ought not to ask him to help?'

‘Nonsense,' said Maggie. ‘He was fond of Tomi, too.'

The weather was atrocious, making it doubly difficult to stow all Oliver's gear into the car. It was just as well that Maggie hadn't come, for there wouldn't have been any room for her.

Oliver looked well, and Bea thought he might even have grown another half inch. She wanted to put her arms around him and give him a hug, but this handsome young man, so poised and confident, didn't bear much relation to the skinny little outcast whom Maggie had dragged home over a year ago.

Bea found herself talking about the weather. Absurd.

He seemed to feel awkward with her, too. After all, she wasn't his birth mother – whoever she might have been. In his second term at uni he'd immersed himself in some weird and wonderful research project which was totally beyond her understanding, but which was already gaining him kudos in his rarefied field of higher mathematics. He'd moved further away from the nest, and she wasn't sure he'd still welcome a hug and a kiss.

When all his bits and pieces had finally been stowed inside the car and his bicycle lashed to the roof rack, she looked up at the sky and grimaced. ‘Shall I drive the first leg?' The snow had turned to sleet. The main roads had been gritted and the motorway would be all right, but the rain made driving difficult.

Oliver had passed his driving test at the first attempt but, like other university students, used a bicycle to get around town. He wouldn't have driven a car for some months and might be rusty at the wheel.

As they fastened their seat belts, he gave her a big smile. Only then did she relax. ‘You're growing up so fast.'

‘You look just the same. You never change.'

She laughed and shook her head. She had her bad days, like everyone else. ‘Tell me how to get out of this one-way system.'

‘Turn right at the end here. I've had Chris and CJ emailing me, both worried about Tomi. Have the police been informed? What do you think has happened to her? Can you tell me exactly what's going on? Keep going. I'll tell you when to turn left.'

‘I wish I knew. It started when Chris wanted me to find his library books. No, it started before that, but this is hearsay, right? Needs checking.' She proceeded to tell him everything she had heard and learned. And, as they left the city and approached the motorway, she went on to tell him what she'd seen and heard for herself.

It started to rain in earnest, and he suggested taking over the driving. They changed over at the next motorway services, but she didn't continue her story until she was sure that he could cope with the difficult driving conditions.

‘—and there it is. The official line is that Harry killed Tomi and, when her body was discovered, killed himself. Her parents are being informed and will no doubt remove her effects from Miss Drobny's place in due course. Maggie has produced lists of names, one or two of whom might have been dealing with drugs at some time, but that's all they are: lists of names. Chris refuses to go back to university. He says he'll pick up the pieces of his film career, try to get himself some training. CJ seems to be holding a watching brief.'

‘Inconsistencies?'

Bea stared ahead. Driving in heavy traffic in a rainstorm was not easy, yet she felt safe with Oliver at the wheel. He was a few months younger than Chris, but much more dependable, and intelligent in an entirely different way.

‘Things I would like the police to look at? Missing mobile phones. Tomi's and Harry's. At least, Harry's might have been somewhere at his place, and I just didn't see it. On Saturday morning there was dust on the table at Harry's and crumbs on the carpet. By Sunday the crumbs had been cleaned up, the dust removed. Would someone about to commit suicide bother to do that? Oh, I don't know. It's probably all right.'

He drove on in silence. Only when he was parking the car outside their house did he speak again. ‘Would you like me to look at what was on her laptop?'

‘I looked and couldn't see anything significant. But yes; you'd be better at it than I.'

‘It was brilliant of Maggie to tackle Tomi's friends. Would you like me to look at her lists?'

‘You're on holiday now. Making sense of Maggie's lists would take up a lot of your time. Are you sure?'

‘I liked Tomi; she was a very real person. And thank you for looking after Chris for me. He needs someone. An anchor? I'm putting it badly.'

Bea laughed. ‘Be prepared for a new, earnest, down-to-earth Chris, who may be in the process of acquiring a proper girlfriend.' She got out of the car and stretched. A tiresome journey, and she was both hungry and thirsty. What had she planned for lunch? She couldn't remember.

The pavements glistened with slush. If the temperature dropped tonight, there would be ice everywhere tomorrow. As she bent to help Oliver unload the car, they were surrounded by people shouting a welcome, hugging and kissing Oliver; everyone was talking at once. Maggie was there, and Chris. Of course Chris would be there. Zander was taking a box of books from Bea, while yelling at Oliver that it was about time he came home. There was CJ, wryly smiling, removing Oliver's laptop from his grasp. Maggie was dancing up and down, shooting questions at Oliver while disentangling his bicycle from the luggage rack, and here came Miss Brook up from the agency office. Surprise, surprise! ‘My dear boy, how good to see you again!'

Oliver was laughing, too, as a chain of people removed his belongings from the car and bore them into the house. Bea had a bundle of bedding in her arms, which was taken from her by someone, she wasn't sure whom. Then she was being urged up the steps and into the house, where everyone seemed to be talking at once. CJ was opening a bottle of bubbly, wouldn't you know, and Maggie screamed something about bringing food in from the kitchen, and dear Miss Brook was holding on to Oliver's arm and shaking it, trying to tell him all about the new girl they had working for them. Chris was bobbing up and down like a jack-in-a-box, yelling that they must have a party that night, of course they must!