'Don't worry. I'll come back later,' I
said.
I joined the rush-hour queue at the bus
stop a few yards down the road from the door I'd seen Naomi and Brendan enter.
The curtains in the upstairs room were still drawn. I stood there for fifteen
minutes, shifting from foot to foot and watching the buses arrive and go.
Eventually the curtains in the flat were opened, though I didn't see by whom.
If I waited long enough, one of them had to come out. If it was Brendan, I'd
knock at the door and hope she was there. If it was Naomi, I'd catch up with
her and talk. If it was both of them together — well, I'd think about that when
it happened.
In the event, it was Brendan who emerged.
He was wearing baggy black trousers and a grey woollen jacket and carried a
silver rucksack over one shoulder. I pressed myself against the bus stop, among
the crowd, worried that he might be coming my way. He passed by on the other
side of the road, walking with a jaunty step and whistling to himself.
I waited until he was out of sight and
then crossed the road and went up to the door. I ran an anxious hand through my
hair, took a deep breath, and rang the bell. She took a bit of time answering
and I was beginning to think that she had left earlier than Brendan, but then I
heard feet coming down the stairs. When she opened the door, she was wearing a
white towelling robe and her hair was bundled up in a towel. She looked even
younger than before.
'Hello?' she said, peering through the
gap. 'Can I...?' Then recognition and puzzlement came into her face. 'But
aren't you the woman in Crabtrees?' she asked.
'Yes. Sorry to intrude like this. I'd
really like to have a word with you.'
'I don't understand. What are you doing
here? How did you know where I lived, anyway?'
'Can I come in? Then I could explain. Just
a few minutes.'
'Who are you?'
'If I could just...'
'Tell me your name.'
'Miranda,' I said. I saw her eyes widen
and inwardly cursed. 'You may have heard of me.'
'Oh yes, I've heard of you all right,' she
said in a hostile tone. 'Now I think you'd better go.'
She started to push the door shut, but I
put my hand against it.
'Please. Just a few words,' I said. 'It's
important. I wouldn't be here if it weren't important.'
She hesitated, biting her top lip as she
stared at me.
'I won't be long,' I said. 'But there's
something I have to tell you. Please.'
At last she shrugged and stood back to let
me pass.
'Though I can't for the life of me think
of anything you could tell me that I'd want to know.'
I followed her up the stairs and into the
tiny living room. There was a splaying bunch of bluebells in a jam jar on the
table, and medical textbooks. A man's leather jacket was slung over the chair.
She turned to face me, hands on her hips, and didn't ask me to sit down.
'I don't know what you've heard about me,'
I began.
'I know that you used to go out with Ben,'
she said, and I blinked at her. He was 'Ben' now, was he? 'And I know you
couldn't let go when he ended it; that you made his life a misery for a while.'
'What about Laura?' I demanded. 'Did he
tell you about her?'
'Of course. Laura was his wife and she
died and his heart was broken.' I saw tears start up in her candid grey eyes.
'He's told me everything. Poor Ben.'
'And Troy? He's told you about Troy, has
he?' I asked harshly.
'He still has nightmares about it.'
'Naomi, listen. You don't know what you're
getting into here. Brendan — Ben — he's — there's something wrong with him.
Really wrong, I mean.'
'How dare you say that.
You,
of all
people. He's suffered more in his life than anyone has a right to suffer, but
it hasn't made him bitter or closed-off. He's even nice about
you;
he
understands why you've behaved like you do.'
'He makes things up,' I said.
'No.'
'He lies, Naomi. But there's more to it
than that.' I felt quite sick with frustration and wretchedness.
'I don't want to hear any more.'
She actually put her hands to her ears as
she said this. I raised my voice.
'I think you're in danger.'
'You're talking about the man I love.'
'Listen. Just hear me out. Please. Then
I'll go. But please listen, Naomi.
Please.'
I put my hand on her arm and when she
tried to pull away, gripped her harder.
'I don't think she wants to listen. No one
wants to listen to you any more, do they? Mmm? Now take your hands off her.'
I turned.
'Brendan,' I said.
'Ben,' said Naomi. 'Oh, Ben!'
She crossed the room and put her arms
round him.
'I wonder how you found me? You must have
gone to a lot of effort.'
I glanced quickly at Naomi. All I could
think of was that, trying to save her, I might have put her in greater danger.
'I'm very sorry that you've been dragged
into this,' Brendan said to Naomi. 'I wanted to protect you. I blame myself.
Are you all right?'
'Oh, you don't need to protect me!' she
said. She gazed at him tenderly and put a hand up to touch his cheek. 'Anyway,
it was my fault. I let her in.'
'I'll go,' I said.
'Do that,' said Brendan. He took a few
steps towards me, until he was gazing down at me. He had a very faint smile on
his lips. 'My poor Mirrie.'
CHAPTER 37
Three days later I got a call from Rob
Pryor.
'I thought we weren't meant to talk any
more,' I said brightly.
'We need to talk now,' he said.
I felt a ripple of alarm.
'Has something happened with Naomi?'
'No,' he said. 'Nothing has happened with
Naomi. I couldn't believe that you'd been to see her. That you were watching
her.'
'I had to,' I said. 'It felt like a moral
duty.'
'I want you to come and see me.'
'What about?'
'This whole business with you and Brendan.
It can't go on like this.'
'I know what you mean,' I said. 'I feel
like someone with a disease.'
'We're going to sort it out,' he said.
'When do you want me to come?'
'One other thing first. Miranda, do you
have a solicitor?'
'What do you mean?'
'I think it would be useful if you had
some sort of legal representation.'
'The only time I've had a solicitor is
when I bought my flat.'
The whole idea seemed laughable, but Pryor
didn't give up. He asked me if I knew anybody at all who was a lawyer. I
thought for a moment and then remembered Polly Benson. The main thing about
Polly is that when we were at college she was the biggest party animal of us
all, which was saying something. Pryor said it would be a good idea if I
brought her along. I wasn't sure if this was a good idea. I hadn't been in
touch with Polly for ages. But Pryor was insistent. I began to get suspicious.
'Is there some problem?' I said.
Pryor's tone was soothing.
'We're going to sort this out,' he said,
'but you may benefit from some advice. Talk to your friend, then phone me.
We'll make a date.'
I phoned Polly and she gave a cheerful
scream when I identified myself. She was so excited. It was so great. We must
get together. We must have a drink. What were my plans? I could hear a clatter
as she searched around on her desk for her diary. I said that would be great,
but first I had something I needed to talk to her about. I asked her if she
could come with me to see someone. In fact, a detective, but it wasn't what
she'd think. She said sure, no problem, straight away, just as a friend should.
I said I would pay her, just like a normal client, and she laughed and said to
forget it and, anyway, I wouldn't be able to afford it. She asked me what was
up, so I gave her the two-minute version of the Brendan story while she
murmured sympathetically.
'What a creep,' she said, when I'd
finished. 'But you don't know what's up?'
'Brendan's become friendly with this
detective. He may have made some complaint.' I laughed. 'Or maybe he's going to
confess to murder.'
'Maybe Brendan objects to what you've been
saying about him,' said Polly. 'You have to be careful about things like that.'
'I'm a bit worried about needing a
solicitor,' I said.
'Then it'll be good that I'm there,' she
said.
I wasn't sure if that really answered my
question, but I found a time she was free the next day and also a time we could
meet for a drink later in the week. I phoned Rob Pryor and that was fine and so
— weirdly — the next afternoon found me standing outside the police station
talking with one of my old college friends. I had made an effort to smarten up
with a dark jacket and black trousers, but Polly had popped out of her office
and she was on an entirely different level of looking businesslike. She was
wearing a grey pinstriped suit and with her jet black, very straight hair and
brown skin she looked stunning. We hugged each other.
'I'm sorry to waste your time like this,'
I said. 'We should be in and out in a moment.'
A uniformed officer showed us through to
Pryor's office, which seemed full of people. Brendan was there and a
middle-aged woman, also formally dressed, whom Pryor introduced as Deirdre
Walsh, Brendan's solicitor. She looked at me with a puzzled expression, as if I
weren't the person she was expecting or as if I'd said something she didn't
understand. I introduced Polly to them and tried very hard not to look in
Brendan's direction. Pryor asked if she knew about the situation.
'I filled her in,' I said. 'But I'm not
quite sure what this is all about.'
Pryor, Brendan and Walsh exchanged
glances. Something was up. Pryor was fidgeting with a file on his desk. He
flipped it open.
'At Mr Block's request,' he said. 'This is
an informal meeting.'
'What does that mean?' I said.
'You'll see,' said Pryor, picking up a
sheet of paper from the file. 'We all know what's been going on, more or less.
But it might be worth going through some of the salient episodes.' He pursed
his lips and hesitated for a moment before continuing. 'Last year the two of
you had a brief, intimate relationship which Mr Block ended.'
'That's not true,' I said.
'Please, Miss Cotton, let me just...'
'No. I'm not going to sit here and nod to
a lie like that. It was simple. I caught Brendan reading my diary...'
'Please, Miss Cotton, Miranda, let me go
on and then you can have your say.'
I clenched my teeth hard and said nothing.
'According to Mr Block, he ended the
relationship. Maybe unfortunately he then began a relationship with your sister
and then with a mutual friend
'She was
my
friend,' I said.
'A relationship,' said Pryor, as if I
hadn't spoken, 'which ended tragically.'
'For
Laura,'
I said. 'Not for
Brendan.'
There was a sort of angry sigh from
Deirdre Walsh and I saw that she was actually glaring at me.
'Please, Miranda,' said Pryor.
Polly leaned over and put a hand on my
arm. I nodded at her. Pryor continued.
'I won't go through all the episodes of
tension during the time when Brendan was engaged to your sister. I'll only
mention the occasion when you were caught searching through Brendan's
possessions in his bedroom.'
I looked round at Polly. I hadn't
mentioned that to her. She was looking entirely impassive.
'Mr Block admits that his severing of ties
with your sister was a painful process, but he was, at least, no longer
connected with your family. However, your erratic behaviour only intensified.
There were, for example, the wild accusations you made against him to people...
well, to people such as myself. Even when I went to the trouble of showing that
the accusations — for example, concerning the death of Laura — were
demonstrably false.'
'That's just not true,' I said. 'It all
depended on time, and you got the route wrong. I checked it, and if you took
the direct route through the council estate Brendan could easily have got there
in the time.'
There was a silence. Deirdre Walsh leaned
forwards and spoke for the first time.
'I'm sorry, Miss Cotton. I'm not sure I've
got this right. Do I take it that you have walked the route yourself and timed
it?'
'Someone had to,' I said.
'Excuse me,' said Polly to the others and
leaned close to my ear and whispered to me. 'I think it would be better if you
didn't respond to these claims point by point until the detective has
finished.'