A Question of Guilt (24 page)

Rachel was just leaving as Josh arrived, and I knew she'd be annoyed that she had little more than a fleeting glimpse of him – she was dying to meet him and give him the once over, I knew.

‘I can't stay long,' Josh said apologetically, ‘but I'm free this evening if you'd like to meet up. I did promise to cook for you,' he said with a rueful grin.

‘Why don't
I
cook for
you
?' I suggested. ‘I think Mum will be staying for at least one more night with Dad, and I really don't think I want to leave the house unoccupied after what happened last night, though I still don't understand it. I mean, who on earth would come all the way out here to steal just a few bits and pieces? Farms get targeted for equipment – tractors, for instance, often get nicked, and I've even heard of livestock going missing. But a computer, an anniversary clock and a couple of brass candlesticks? It's crazy.'

‘The computer,' Josh said. He was looking very serious. ‘Is that the computer you've been using for all your notes about the fire and Dawn Burridge's death?'

‘
Was
using, yes. I've got my laptop now.'

‘You've got a laptop?' Josh asked, surprised, and I realized I hadn't mentioned buying it.

‘Yes – I got it a couple of days ago. But . . . I'm not following you, Josh. What has that got to do with . . .?'

Josh shrugged. ‘Nothing probably. I was just wondering . . . Well, you know what I think about you pursuing this investigation of yours. I think you're playing with fire. And it just occurred to me there might be some connection. That it was the computer the intruder was after, and the other bits and pieces were taken to make it look like a run-of-the-mill burglary.'

‘Oh, that's ridiculous!' I retorted. ‘Why would anyone . . .?'

‘Perhaps someone wanted to know what you've found out. Or put a spoke in your investigation. I've said it before and I'll say it again: if there is anything in all this, Sally, you could be dealing with very dangerous people.'

‘I can't believe that anyone would stage a burglary to get their hands on my notes,' I said forcefully. ‘And anyway, how would they know the house was going to be unoccupied?'

‘News of your dad's accident spread pretty fast . . .'

‘And got picked up by some local low-life who grabbed the opportunity to break in and take anything they could sell to get the money for their next fix,' I said. ‘That's why I don't want to leave the house empty tonight. If word gets round we're spending time at the hospital, some other druggie might decide to try his luck.'

‘If you say so,' Josh said wearily. ‘Anyway, it's all the more reason for you not to be here alone. So OK, I will take you up on your offer to cook for me. If only so I can make sure you're safe.'

I rolled my eyes. But there was no denying the feeling of warmth deep inside me.

My phone was ringing.

It was late afternoon and I was assembling the ingredients I'd managed to find in the fridge, freezer and store cupboards to cook an evening meal without going into town. The best I could come up with was a lasagne with garlic bread and salad. The mince was defrosting in the microwave and I was chopping an onion, tears streaming down my cheeks. As I heard the ringtone of my phone, I wiped my hands on Mum's cook's apron, which I'd borrowed, and scooped it up.

Could it be Alice?

It was.

‘Sorry I had to go in a hurry this morning,' she said.

‘No problem. You said you wanted to talk to me?' I was trying to keep the excitement out of my voice, and failing miserably.

‘Yes.'

‘About Dawn?'

There was a brief silence. Then: ‘I'd rather not go into it over the phone,' Alice said. She still sounded nervous, though I guessed she was no longer in the office. ‘Could we meet?'

‘Of course. Where? When?'

‘How about Sunday morning? I'm working all day tomorrow. And I suggest the children's play park at the sports centre. Say eleven o'clock, somewhere near the swings? Do you know it?'

‘Yes.' She'd chosen a spot that was likely to be busy on a Sunday morning, I guessed – always provided it was fine. ‘What if it's pouring with rain?' I asked.

‘In that case, inside, in the sports centre coffee shop. But the forecast is good.'

‘I'll be there,' I said.

And I felt a spiral of jubilation.

Dad was recovering, Josh was coming to dinner, and Alice Benson wanted to talk to me. Perhaps, at last, things were actually moving in the right direction!

And they continued to do so. A phone call from Mum was upbeat – Dad was still making good progress – and Josh and I spent a lovely evening together. In fact, he ended up staying the night.

He was still worried about me, I knew, but neither of us mentioned that as we climbed the stairs to my room, and certainly not as we lay together in my bed. Josh was a wonderful lover, gentle and considerate – well, with my injured leg he would have had to be a sadist not to be – and I thought that Mum and Rachel couldn't have been more wrong when they warned me against getting too involved too soon.

This was right – so right – and I'd never been happier. Why delay when my heart was telling me that Josh was the one I'd been waiting for all my life?

Falling asleep in his arms, I felt rosy and content and cherished. If nothing came of my investigations, at least I'd met someone very special.

It was a good place to be.

Next morning I woke to find myself alone. I hadn't so much as stirred when Josh got up, but now I could hear the clatter of china in the kitchen, and when I padded downstairs I found him fully dressed and busy with mugs and tea bags.

‘Hey, what are you doing up?' he greeted me. ‘I was going to bring you a cup of tea in bed.'

‘Nice thought, but too late,' I laughed.

Today, Saturday, was market day, but Mum's pitch would have to remain empty today. There was no way I could cope with running it, and I was anxious to get to Bristol to see Dad again.

This time it was Josh who took me. On the way we stopped off to update Jeremy and leave him a spare door key in case of any emergency occurring. I was delighted to find Dad was still steadily improving – the fact that he was insisting there was no need whatever for Mum to keep a bedside vigil clear evidence that he was beginning to think like his old self. It was Dad all over – he hates fuss – and in any case, he was worried about the farm. All very well to assure him that with Jeremy's help I had everything under control – he still wanted Mum back in the saddle, so to speak.

She was torn, I knew, but after some discussion it was agreed that she would come home with me and Josh today, and drive back tomorrow, after I'd had my meeting with Alice. Should there be any crisis – which, please God, there wouldn't be – then obviously I'd have to cancel my appointment.

Apart from that brief encounter in the hall when he called for me on our first date, this was the first time Mum had met Josh. But from the outset they seemed to get on really well. He'd earned brownie points for bringing me to the hospital, of course, but he was also a very easy person to like, with his laid-back, friendly manner, I thought, feeling pleased and rather proud. Mum gave me a furtive nod of approval when his back was turned. ‘A great improvement on Tim' that look seemed to say.

‘So you're still managing to go on with your investigation in spite of what's happened?' Mum said as we were driving home.

‘More's the pity,' Josh muttered.

‘Actually Alice came to me,' I said, ignoring him, but Mum picked up on it.

‘What do you mean, Josh?' she asked.

‘I keep warning her – she could be disturbing a hornet's nest,' Josh said. ‘She won't listen to me, though. Perhaps you can talk some sense into her before she ends up like Dawn Burridge.'

‘Oh for heaven's sake!' I exploded. But I could see he'd got Mum worried.

‘Oh my goodness – surely you don't think . . .?' she said anxiously.

‘Sally knows exactly what I think.' Josh's tone was grim. ‘I think she should leave well alone.'

‘You are
so
melodramatic!' I said crossly. The last thing I wanted was for him to alarm Mum. If she thought I might be playing with fire she'd be reluctant to let me use Dad's car again. ‘If there's anything at all to discover, it's all to do with emotional entanglements, not some kind of gang war between Mafia godfathers. This is Stoke Compton, not New York, or even London. And I'm going to talk to a girl who works in an estate agent's office, not Mata Hari.'

I didn't add that I was beginning to be more and more certain that Lewis Crighton was behind what had happened to Dawn, and that Alice was frightened to death of him. If I wanted to continue following my story, the less said the better.

But Mum's thoughts had returned to Dad.

‘I wonder if I should have stayed another night? I don't like leaving him . . .'

‘He's in good hands, Mum,' I said, grateful for the change of subject.

At home everything appeared to be under control. Mum asked Josh if he would like to stay for supper – her way of thanking him for providing a taxi service, I guessed, but Josh had a better idea.

‘I'll treat you both to a pub meal,' he offered.

Eating out isn't really Mum's thing, but when I added my weight to the argument – I hadn't been able to get to the shops to buy food, and, in any case, the last thing she needed was to have to cook a meal – she agreed.

Though there could be no intimacy between Josh and me tonight, I really enjoyed the fact that Mum was with us. It had the comfortable feel of family, a sort of warm stability to anchor all the euphoria of the attraction that existed between us. Something else I'd never experienced in all the time I'd been with Tim. And when Josh kissed me goodnight, although I'd have liked more, I felt truly content. There would be other nights for us to be together. For starters we'd decided that tomorrow evening we'd go to the cinema to see
The Best Marigold Hotel
, and grab a bite to eat afterwards.

For now, I was perfectly happy that things were progressing exactly as they should.

Sunday morning. Mum said she'd wait for me to get back from my meeting with Alice so that we could go to the hospital together. I helped her with the various chores until it was time to get ready to go, and then set out for Stoke Compton.

The weather today was quite pleasant, with the promise of spring. Already the hedgerows were beginning to sprout green against the bare brown of winter, and clusters of daffodil spears had erupted in the banks along the stretch of main road on the approach to town. Soon, given some warm sunshine, they'd open into a sea of golden yellow.

This was a new development. I didn't remember daffodils at the roadside when I was young. Someone must have planted bulbs there at some time, and they'd grown and spread with each passing year.

The sports centre was at ‘our' end of town. I drove into the car park and found a space, surprised at just how full it was. Judging by the number of parents and children going in and out carrying sports bags there were probably swimming lessons this morning, and I imagined the gym and squash courts were well patronized too.

I waited in the car until just before eleven, then made my way to the children's play area. This was also already busy, boys and girls of all ages rushing about between the swings, slides and roundabouts, whilst their parents sat on benches or stood beside the low perimeter fence watching them. One lone woman wearing a parka with the hood up was standing at the far end with her back to me, and I wondered if it might be Alice. But as I neared her I saw her drop a cigarette butt on the grass, tread on it and call to a boy who was on the climbing frame. Not Alice, then.

I walked all the way around the play park, but there was no sign of her. I stood watching the cars that were coming in, and the people emerging from them and walking towards the sports centre; Alice was not among them. I was beginning to get a bad feeling here. Had she changed her mind and decided not to meet me? Or was it possible there had been a misunderstanding and she was waiting for me in the cafeteria?

I headed for the sports centre. The main doors led directly into an open-plan area where there were tables, chairs and vending machines. This, too, was busy, most of the tables occupied and children rushing about between them. But I could see at a glance that Alice wasn't here. The clock above the viewing window for the swimming pool showed eleven fifteen. It might, of course, be a few minutes fast, but the fact remained – Alice was late – if she was coming at all.

I went back outside, did another circuit of the playground, and waited by the path from the car park, my frustration growing with every passing minute.

She wasn't going to come.

I waited until half past, and a bit beyond, just in case she'd thought she'd said eleven thirty, but without much hope, and at a twenty to twelve I eventually gave up.

I was cold – for all that the sun was shining, there was a definite nip in the air – and I was utterly fed up. To have had this carrot dangled in front of me and then snatched away was disappointing to say the least.

Alice knew something; she'd been on the point of sharing it with me. But – perhaps out of fear of losing her job – she'd changed her mind, and I had no way of knowing what it was she had been going to tell me.

But once again, everything was pointing to Compton Properties and Lewis Crighton. The answer to everything lay with him, I felt sure. And somehow I was going to find out what it was that he – and everyone around him – was hiding.

‘So you had a wasted journey,' Mum said sympathetically when I got home, but I had the feeling she was actually secretly relieved. Josh and his warnings of doom had worried her, I knew.