Someone Else's Conflict (31 page)

‘There might not be a “then”, Jay. Where does he live, anyway?'

Jay forced a smile. ‘Nice try.'

She shook her head. ‘Do you honestly think you know better than the professionals?'

‘No. But I don't trust
them
to know better than me, either. We can join our ignorant forces after tomorrow night. Or if I can find Vinko in the meantime.'

She sighed. ‘It doesn't look like I could stop you without turning you in. But you will keep me posted?' She told him her mobile phone number and he jotted it down. ‘What's yours?'

‘I, um, don't have a phone anymore.' He felt himself reddening. ‘I'll ring you.'

‘What do you mean, “anymore”?'

‘I had a brief flirt with carrying a mobile. But Vinko's wasn't the only call. My phone's been hot this afternoon – that detective got hold of me, too. I had this vision of them tracking me and trashed it. I always was impulsive, wasn't I?' He laughed unconvincingly. ‘Didn't like having the thing anyway.'

‘How come they've got your number?'

He stared out of the window, noticing a reflection of the boy behind him and trying to ignore it. ‘Only two people know it. Vinko and Polly. It's hardly likely to be Vinko who told them.'

‘Polly's your girlfriend, right?'

‘I'd like to think so.'

‘What do you mean by that?'

He watched the two elderly friends across the room rise and make their way to the door, then stared out of the window.

‘You know, trust. Respect. She goes straight off to the police as soon as my back's turned. Is that how much I mean to her? Can I trust her?'

‘You don't know what happened. She might be scared – I don't know how much you've told her, but I wouldn't blame her.'

‘So
she
doesn't trust
me
. How does that make me feel?'

‘Like someone who should find out what's happened before judging?'

‘Ouch. You certainly know how to put me in my place.'

He turned from the window.

‘Sounds like you need it,' she insisted with a half-smile. ‘Anyway, your love life's up to you. But if Vinko said he knows where she works, don't you think you'd better get back and check up on her?'

He shrugged. ‘I intend to. Though I'm sure there's nothing to worry about yet. Imagine his situation, whether it's just him or he's with Mihal. If they touch her they've most likely lost their chance. They've got to wait and see what I do.'

‘So where does that leave her? Polly?'

‘It seems she's got the police on board, doesn't it?'

His words were sounding increasingly lame, even to his own ears. He realised he wanted nothing more than to be in Holdwick. ‘Look, I'm sorry. I'm sure there's loads more we – I – should have said, but I guess I should be going.'

‘Don't apologise. I'm the one suggested you went.' She looked at her watch. ‘I've been trying to think how to get rid of you, to be honest. Got to pick the kids up soon, see?' He was relieved to see the sparkle in her eye and smiled back. She reached across the table and squeezed his hand. ‘The circumstances could've been better, but it's been good to see you. Don't make it another twenty years. And keep me in touch with what happens – however you choose to do so.'

He smiled, noticing the boy's table was vacant, and got up to help her on with her coat. Not that she needed that kind of gesture, but it was an excuse to give her a hug, and she returned it. He watched her leave, feeling strangely reassured.

Chapter 26

The house felt empty even before it came into view. Like the workshop had before it. Jay had arrived late. He'd known Vinko wouldn't be at home but felt he had to try. So, after fighting the rush-hour traffic on his way out of the city, he'd got to the craft centre to find it locked up and Polly's workshop in darkness. Trying to convince himself she'd had an offer of a lift home, he came straight to Stoneleigh, but as he drove into the yard he saw there wasn't a single light cheering the windows in the early evening gloom. The barn door was slightly ajar and clacking in the wind. He entered the porch and tried the door. Locked. They'd never had reason for her to give him a key; the way he was feeling right now he doubted she would have anyway. And why should she? He went outside, checked under plant pots, in a few obvious niches in walls, the glove box of the car. Nothing. He knocked pointlessly. Perhaps he needed to hear the sound of his own knuckles on the solid wood, echoing through an empty house, to convince himself of her absence. Genghis appeared and greeted him with a loud meow. Gratefully, he bent to stroke the cat, who rubbed up against his legs before vanishing inside with a dismissive clack of the catflap.

He scanned the porch for a note, in vain. He sat in the car to wait, brooding, as the buffeting wind threw occasional showers at the windows. The weather meant the darkness had come early, the heavy blanket darkness of a clouded sky. She wouldn't come in this; he must have been right, she didn't trust him and was staying away. Whatever she thought of him, he was increasingly worried about her and felt a growing need to find his way in and get to the phone.

There was a torch in the glove box and he used it to do a circuit of the house in the rain, looking for open windows. When he tried the front door onto the garden, the grand-looking stone-porched entrance she hardly ever used, it opened so readily he almost fell in behind it. Of course! This was the door through which she'd taken her stuff out to the bonfire. He smiled at his own stupidity for not thinking of it sooner, and hers for leaving it unlocked.

He removed his boots and dripping coat and took them through to the kitchen to dry by the Rayburn. There was no note on the kitchen table either; he'd resigned himself to that before his eyes confirmed it. It felt strange to be here on his own, everything he looked at reminding him of Polly. She'd said more than once he should consider himself at home here, but he felt like a trespasser. He wondered what she'd say if she arrived back and found him here.

The kitchen was warm from the Rayburn and he pulled the blind down to keep out the weather and the outside world before picking up the phone. He found the Barton Mill number in the memory and stared at it for a few moments, steeling himself to ring them. He glanced through to the living room and sensed a familiar presence. He felt not so much fear as a weary resignation. It was no surprise that the boy was with him tonight, and he almost had to stop himself from greeting his persecutor out loud. He managed to ignore him and dialled the number. Waiting for them to reply, he longed for Polly to come back and interrupt him.

A friendly-sounding woman called Lucy answered and, after he'd apologised for bothering her, told him no, she hadn't seen Marilyn that afternoon but Matt had. She offered to go down to the workshop and see if there was a message, ignoring an irritable voice asking her who was on the line. It seemed like an age, the sound of her footsteps on the stairs echoing spookily down the phone, before she breathlessly gave him the name and number of the Mason's Arms. As he jotted it down he heard a male voice muttering ‘What did you tell him that for?' and the scuffling of the phone being taken from her.

‘Matt here. Don't you think you've caused enough hassle?'

‘Hassle?' He felt cold despite the warmth from the Rayburn. ‘What's happened?'

‘Isn't it about time
you
came clean on that? Nothing, yet, but no thanks to you. Why don't you just fuck off and leave her in peace? She's never been in trouble in her life and—'

‘I don't have to listen to this.'

‘I'm afraid you do. I'm on your case. Just think on.'

‘Thanks for the advice. Nice talking to you.'

He cut off the call and stared at the wooden table top, fighting down his anger. The sound of Matt's voice reminded him of the only other conversation he'd had with the man, when he'd passed on his number. Jay found himself smiling as he realised there was someone else who could have given his number to the police. Relief at this combined with the discovery that Polly was safe at her friend's flooded through him. ‘I'm on your case.' He could almost laugh. He rang the pub and eventually got to speak to her.

‘Jay! I've been trying to get you. Why didn't you answer?'

‘I lost my phone.'

‘Lost it?'

‘Long story.'

‘Aren't they always?' She giggled and he could tell she'd had a drink. There were voices in the background. ‘You got my message? Where are you now?'

‘No to the first – I was a bit late back and they'd locked up at the craft centre. So I'm at home. Your place.'

‘Why don't you come over? Sue's dying to meet you.'

‘You wouldn't want me to. I'm not feeling sociable right now. How come you're there anyway?'

‘I'm sorry, Jay.' Her voice sobered. ‘I know I said I'd wait, but I just couldn't handle it, and— Matt came just after you left because the police had been to see him – don't worry, nothing serious, only door-to-door enquiries… But it's difficult enough as it is, and he just pushes my buttons. You know what he can be like – well, you don't, but—'

‘I do. I've just spoken to him.'

‘What? Why on earth…?'

‘I was worried about you, so I phoned the Mill to see if they knew anything. That was how I got this number. Sorry, but I couldn't think what else to do.'

‘What do you mean, worried?' He was glad to hear her moving to somewhere quiet. ‘Was it something Vesna told you?'

‘Partly.'

As he told her about Vinko's call he found it impossible to ignore the boy who was now sitting across from him at the kitchen table.

‘That's awful,' she said. ‘Did you have any idea he'd turn like that?'

‘No, I…it came as a shock. And then, among other things, Vesna confirmed her ex could easily be Vinko's Novak.'

He forced himself to tell her the rest.

‘So you're going to see him tomorrow? You must be out of your mind.'

He glanced over at the boy. If only she knew.

‘I've got to. It might be the only way of finding out what's going on and…and if Vesna's right about that message of his – and I don't know if I believe her or just want to – Vinko might need my help.'

‘Jay, this is serious. I really think you should tell the police.'

‘Please don't. I've made my mind up and I'm too knackered to argue about it. Look, you enjoy your evening. I know this isn't easy for you either, I really do. I'm sure it's doing you good to get away. Shall I come and pick you up later? I haven't a clue where it is, but I'll find it.'

‘You could…' She sounded apologetic.

‘Stay over if you want to. I don't mind. We can talk in the morning. As long as I know you're OK.'

‘I'll be there early. Try and stop you doing anything stupid. I…I don't want anything to happen to you.'

He glanced at the boy.

‘Thanks.'

‘Oh, Jay? I nearly forgot. It might be important – there was something else. When Matt was talking to the police they asked if he'd heard of someone; I wondered if you knew anything, whether it helped with this Novak business. What was it? Daniel Freeman.'

It was like a physical blow to hear her say the name out of the blue.

‘Why were they asking?' It felt like trying to talk under water.

‘They didn't say. In connection with the case.'

He stared as if hypnotised at his hand on the table.

‘Jay?'

‘Sorry. Um, yeah, I do. I know…I know of Dan.'

‘You do?'

‘I'll tell you tomorrow. But it's nothing to worry about. He's…he's no more connected to the case than I am.'

‘You sure? You sound a bit weird.'

‘No, I'm fine, honestly.' He made a real effort. ‘Just knackered, that's all. I'll make sure I get some rest tonight so I'm up bright and early for you in the morning.'

‘That settles it. I'd love to see you, but there's no way you should be driving over in that state. Can't wait, though. I'm missing you already.'

‘Me too, Polly love, me too.'

She blew him a kiss down the phone and was gone. In her absence, or the absence of her voice, the wind at the window and the silence inside the house closed in on him. He thought he'd finally been straight with her, but there was always something else, wasn't there? Her reaction made him realise how scared he was of tomorrow evening's meeting. It would be so much easier if he could just go to the police. He looked across at the boy. Easier wasn't always right. Right wasn't always easy.

The catflap clacked and he jumped. As Genghis wrapped himself round his legs and he stroked the cat absently, Matt's words came back to him. Trite, maybe, but now
I'm on your case
was not something he could laugh at so easily. He needed time to think. What if there was a knock on the door now?