Ghosts in the Morning (20 page)

‘Mr. Rosslet died recently in a cycling accident. Well,
to be more precise, the accident
–’
Blud mimed quotation marks with his fingers. He looked like a short, fat clown doing a rabbit impression, ‘- we actually believe to have been
a hit and run
.
’ Blud tapped his pencil
rap
id
ly
on his notebook.
Tap, tap, tap.
It seemed to be in time with my heartbeat.

Why
only a Detective Sergeant rather than a Detective Inspector, surely they would want a DI for this sort of thing?
I mused to myself.

‘Sorry, Mrs. Halston, I only caught the end of that
sentence
?’ Blud looked at me. ‘Something about needing a D
etective Inspector for
this sort of thing?’ He sounded angry.

I reddened. ‘Um, sorry, I just, I guess, I was just thinking of a TV programme, I–’

‘I am a Detective Sergeant, Mrs. Halston, a very experienced Detective Sergeant as it happens. I am more than capable of dealing with this
...
with this
sort of
thing
.’ Blud sounded churlish, defensive. At that moment, I could see anguish on his face, the anguish of continually being passed over for promotion, the anguish as younger, less-experienced colleagues took the plaudits, climbed the rungs, while Blud - too rough round the edges, too set in his ways, maybe – remained in his position as Detective Sergeant.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw PC Andrews bury a cruel smile, there was obviously no
empathy for his senior officer
.

Blud took a deep breath and turned away from me.
Tap tap tap
.
‘
Okay,
Mr. Halston,
so you claim not to have known Mr. Rosslet, however- ’

‘I’m not just claiming not to have known him, I didn’t bloody know him! Full stop! I don’t know what you’re accusing me of here but- ’

‘Please, Mr. Halston, I’m not accusing you of anything. Now, I be
lieve that you
do know
a Miss Nikki Sandsen?
’

‘Er,
what? W
ell, yes of course, Nikki’s my PA.
What the hell has that got to do with anything?
Look, Detective Blunt-’ 
             

‘It’s Blud, Mr. Halston. Detective Sergeant Blud.’

‘Okay, okay, sorry - Detective Sergeant Blud
-
please
would you mind telling me what the hell is go
ing on
?
I mean, you march into my house and start asking me asking questions about some cycling accident, and then you start asking me about Nikki-’

Blud glanced at Andrews, then he looked at me for a long second. He nodded to himself, as if he’d just made an important decision.
‘Mr. Halston, we have reason to believe that a cyclist – John Rosslet – was knocked from his bike in a hit and run accident. Mr Rosslet died as a result of that incident.
Now, w
e also have
some information that suggests the possibility that the
vehicle involved
was a black four by four. Similar to the car owned by yourself, Mr. Halston.’

‘But that’s ridiculous. Just because we’ve got a black car, besides I hardly ever dr-’

‘Can you describe your relationship with Miss Sandsen?’ Blud said.
Tap tap tap
on the notebook again.

‘What on earth has that got to do with anything?’ spluttered Graham. ‘She’s my PA, that’s all.’

‘Are you sure that’s all, Mr. Halston
?
’ Blud said, the ghost of a
frown
crossing his f
orehead
.

Graham flicked a guilty glance in my direction. ‘Yes,
yes,
that’s all she is.’

I saw Blud take a
deep
breath and I realised what he was about to do, I had watched enough cop shows; he didn’t have to put Graham on the spot like this,
he could have spared Graham the humiliation, he could have spoken to Graham in private,
but he was doing
this
on purpose
. Blud
wanted to put Graham on the back foot, to see his unguarded reaction.
Blud didn’t know that I knew
about the situation with Nikki
already,
but he certainly d
idn’t
seem to
care if his
impending
words would damage me.
He’d had t
oo many years on the job,
maybe he was to
o cynical
and careworn for sympathy
,
just saw this as another
case to solve
, and damn the fallout
.

‘
Well, sorry for bringing this up-’ Blud glanced at me,
tap tap
tap
, ‘-but it’s
my
u
nderstanding, Mr. Halston, that you are involved
in a relationship with Miss Sandsen. A relationship of a sexual nature. An affair, if you like.’

Graham stared furiously at Blud. I could see his shoulders tense, and Andrews placed a gentle hand on his arm. Then he sighed and his shoulders relaxed. He sunk into the sofa like a deflated balloon.

‘Was.’

‘Sorry, Mr. Halston?’

‘I said
was.
Was not is.
I was having an aff-, well, I was involved with Miss Sandsen. Not any more, it’s all over.’ Graham looked at me. ‘I’m sorry, Andrea, I never meant for it to happen, it just-’

‘Were you aware, Mr. Halston, of Miss Sandsen’s previous relationship with Mr. Rosslet?’
Blud was like a terrier, he wouldn’t stop.

‘What? No, of course not, I told you, I don’t know any Rosslet guy. What
is it...what
are you saying?
’

Tap tap tap
. Blud stayed quiet for a second
, just the continuous rhythmic drumming of that infernal pencil. I could taste blood on my bottom lip where my teeth had pierced. Finally
PC Andrews said, ‘
The thing is, Mr. Halston, the aforementioned John
Rosslet
was involved in
a relationship with Miss Sandsen
in the year
prior to you
shacking up
...er, I mean having an affair with you. And then
Mr. Rosslet goes and gets himself killed by a hit and run driver,
possibly
driving a car a lot like yours,
possibly
with the same
number plate
as yours.
That’s kind of why we’re here right now, Mr. Halston.
’

‘Thank you, PC Andrews, for your succinct summary. Now please,
would you be kind enough to
shut up.’ Blud’s teeth were gritted together, I could hear the grinding of the enamel.

I shook my head
at the revelation from PC Andrews.
Jersey was
a small community
, there were multitudes of connections between friends, between people
...
and
t
he world
was
full of little coincidences, most of them unimportant, unnoticed,
just
ripples on the surface of life
. B
ut sometimes, just sometimes,
one of those coincidences changes things, a
ripple becomes a wave.
..

‘So, Mr. Halston, you’re denying you know Mr. Rosslet, is that correct?’

‘Yes, I’ve told you, I don’t bloody know any Rosslet.’

‘And can you vouch for your whereabouts on
-
let me see
-
the night of November fourteenth?’

‘That’s over a month ago, how do I bloody know. Look I’ve had enough of this...this...bloody insinuation. I’ve told you, I don’t have a clue what you’re on about, and I don’t have to vouch for anything. I’m not talking to you buggers anymore without a lawyer
present
.
I’ll h
ave you for harassment,
so
I will.’

‘There’s no need for that, Mr. Halston
. A
s I believe I mentioned earlier, this was just us popping-in, just an informal chat-’

‘I don’t care
what you call it, a chat, a pop-in, whatever, all I know is that going forward you will have to
speak to my lawyer.
You come in here, making spurious accusations, poking your noses into my private life, and you expect me to just listen to all of this crap...
I’m a
, well, I’m a
respected member of the business community, I don’t need to put up with this crap.
So, now, I would appreciate you getting
out of my house.’

Blud stood and nodded to Andrews. ‘
We haven’t made any accusations that I’m aware of, M
r. Halston,
but fair enough. H
ave it your way. We shall be in touch
very
soon. Goodbye, Mrs. Halston.’

The door slammed and Graham stared at me, his eyes blazing. ‘What the fuck was that about, what the hell is going on? You use that car more than me, do you know what this is all about
?
’

I met his anger with my own. ‘Why do you think I know anything about this?’ I shouted back at him. ‘And how dare you have a go at me, when you’re the one who’s been having an affair with that tart of a secretary.’

‘Shit,
what the hell is going on here.
I’m going to have to phone Ollie tomorrow,
I’ll
get him to deal with this bollocks.
H
e’ll charge the bloody earth,
as well,
I mean it’s Christmas Eve tomorrow.
’

Ollie was a lawyer, Graham had used him before when
a
neighbour
’
s
new wall had encroached onto our garden. 
             

I sat down. ‘Okay, Graham, let’s calm down. There’s obviously some mix-up, the police
must have got hold of
some
wrong
information
somehow, mistakes like this are always happening. You know what our police force is like, bunch of bloody amateurs. But y
ou’re right,
you can
give Olli
e a call tomorrow, we’ll get this all sorted
, don’t worry
.’
I put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

My voice was no
w
calm but inside my mind was whirling.

***

Near the school I used to go to, there was a parl. It had a kids’ play area, with a see-saw, slides, a roundabout and a swing. I used to hang out there sometimes at lunchtimes – I would sneak out of school because I didn’t like to stay in the playground. I didn’t have the money for a hot lunch in the school canteen and I didn’t want the other kids to see my scuzzy care-home packed lunch; limp sandwiches filled with cheap cheese or even cheaper sandwich spread, it was an open invitation for the bullies. On the days I didn’t sneak out, some of the boys would sit next to me pretending to offer me some of their crisps or their chocolate bars, then snatching them away if I reached my hand out.

‘Did Mummy make your lunch, Garter girl? Oh, sorry, I forgot, you don’t have one.’

The park was usually quiet in the week. The odd toddler would be shrieking as his Mum – or maybe it was Nanny – pushed him on the small swing, the one with the bars all the way around. I would sit on the roundabout, gently pushing myself
around as I forced the chewy bread down.

There was a little horse there too, it was on a spring. Kids would climb on, and bounce enthusiastically back and forth with manic glee on their faces, as their mothers cooed encouragingly, or gently admonished them – ‘
not too fast, sweetheart, not too fast
.’ The handles of the horse stuck out from the side of the horse’s head, representing its ears.

To me, it looked like a stake had been rammed right through that horse’s head.

***

‘Mum, I, um, I, I...think I’m gay.’ 

Simon’s suitcase was in the hall, he had
not
even taken it upstairs yet. He was standing in front of the Christmas tree in the lounge. It was a real tree, Graham insisted on that every year. I would have preferred an artificial one,
so that
I wouldn’t have to water the stupid
bloody
thing every day,
so that I
wouldn’t have to spend time picking up pine needles up off the deep cream carpet
every bloody day
. I stared at the fairy we had placed on top of the tree, it was the same fairy we had had for years, it looked worn at the edges, I should get a new one.
I giggled inwardly, the irony of thinking of getting a new fairy right at that moment.