Speak No Evil (39 page)

Donovan turned. Wendy Bennett was running down the corridor behind him. Back in her jacket, jeans and trainers. She still looked good, though, he thought.

She caught up with him, out of breath and lightly perspiring and her chest heaving, all reminding him of how pleasantly they had spent the previous night. ‘Joe … I'm glad I found you.'

‘Right. They're down there.' He gave her directions to where Anne Marie and Jack were.

‘Thanks, I'll see mem in a minute.' She looked at him, gave him her biggest smile. ‘Well. Hero.'

‘Oh, fuck off.' But he couldn't help smiling.

‘Seriously though, well done. I heard about what happened. Any problems, we're right behind you. The agency and the publishers. They'll be so excited now. Gagging for the book.'

‘The book. Right. Anne Marie's thinking of not going ahead with it.'

Wendy looked gutted. ‘Why? Now's the perfect time.'

‘I told her that, but I think she just wants a bit of peace.'

Wendy nodded. ‘We'll see about that.' And with those words Donovan saw the steel within her that must have made her good at her job. ‘Don't go booking any more work. You're still doing this.'

‘Right.'

‘Right.'

They both stood there, suddenly embarrassed and tongue-tied.

‘So … what happens next?' said Donovan.

‘Well, once I've talked to Anne Marie and persuaded her to keep going I'll be on a plane back to London. I might have to renegotiate the contract in light of what's happened, but it'll be more money all round. Everyone'll be happy.'

‘That's not what I meant.'

She nodded. She knew that. She kept her eyes downcast. ‘I'm going back to London today. I don't know when I'll be back.'

‘It's only fifty minutes away on EasyJet,' said Donovan. ‘It's not the end of the world.'

‘I know but …' Wendy looked at him. He saw things in her eyes mat she wanted to say, tilings he both did and didn't want to hear, but couldn't find the words to express. ‘Look,' she said, ‘last night was lovely. Really great. But …'

‘You've got a boyfriend.'

She nodded.

‘And this was just an adventure. You wanted to satisfy your curiosity.'

‘I didn't say that. That's not what I meant.' Wendy sighed. ‘Look. I'm not good with things like this. Look. We'll still be, be working together. Let's … let's just see what happens, shall we?'

Donovan realized that was the best he could hope for.

‘OK.'

She nodded, smiled. It was much less dazzling, more tentative than the ones he had become used to from her. She looked at her watch. ‘I'd better get a move on.'

She kissed him. On the cheek.

‘Bye.'

She turned and walked quickly down the hospital corridor.

Donovan turned and went in the opposite direction.

*

Donovan found Abigail in A & E. She was sitting on a plastic chair with Peta. Peta stood up when he arrived. She looked tired, he thought. They both did. No doubt he looked the same. He certainly felt it. He smiled. Genuinely pleased to see them. Both of them.

Peta glanced between father and daughter. ‘Well,' she said. ‘I'll be off then.'

Donovan thanked her and she left, squeezing his arm as she went. She gave him a smile in return, so full of warmth and concern that it made Wendy's absence easier to bear. Abigail joined him in watching her go.

‘She's nice,' Abigail said. ‘I like her.'

‘Yeah,' said Donovan, ‘I agree. She's great.'

Abigail looked at the retreating figure then back at him, frowning. Slightly worried and sensing something more in his reply. ‘But she's not Mum.'

Donovan smiled. ‘No,' he said. ‘She's not Mum.'

‘I saw your girlfriend before.'

‘She's not my girlfriend.'

‘Yeah, right.'

He looked at her. ‘Yeah. Right.'

She gave him a smile again. He could see how fragile around the edges it was. But then she had been through a great trauma and needed some rest.

‘Come on,' he said, ‘let's see if we can catch Peta. Amar's gone home and she's headed back to her house. She can take you along, put you to bed for a couple of hours. You look like you could do with it.'

‘What about you?'

‘I'd better have a look in at work.'

She seemed about to argue but thought better of it. ‘OK,' she said. ‘That'd be cool.'

‘Don't worry, Peta'll look after you.'

She nodded. They began to walk out of the building. The morning was cold. Abigail snuggled up against Donovan's side. Still my little girl, he thought.

‘You know,' said Abigail as they were walking through the car park, ‘it was Mum I wanted to talk to you about.'

‘I thought so,' he said. ‘You don't have to do it now if you don't want to.'

‘No, I do. Get it said and sorted.' She took a deep breath and continued. ‘Mum told me she wants a divorce.'

‘Right.' Donovan nodded. ‘I thought it would be something like that.'

‘She wants to marry Michael.'

‘Well … she's been with him a long time. It's only natural, I suppose.'

She stopped walking, looked at him. ‘But aren't you angry? If she does that we'll … we'll never be a family again.' Tears glittered in the corners of her eyes. ‘We'll never …'

‘I know he's not me, he's not your father, but he's good for you. And Mum. He's there for you.'

‘But you could be …'

He pulls her away from him, looks in her eyes. ‘Abigail, I would love to be. There's nothing I want more in the whole world than my family back together again. But you know it wouldn't work. Because there'll always be a space there. A ghost haunting everything. And you and your mum, and probably me, we'd hate it. And hate each other for it. Not at first, but in time we would. It would drive us all apart. Possibly forever.'

She kept crying, nodding.

‘You're my daughter and I'll always love you. I'm always here for you. And I always will be. I'd love to come and see you and you can come and see me …'

She hugged into him again, sobbing into his leather jacket.

‘Let's just hope next time there'll be no knife-wielding maniacs around.'

He felt her laugh among the tears.

‘So don't tell your mother.'

She laughed again, clung to him all the harder.

He found Peta. She took Abigail back to her house to get some sleep.

Then he drove back to Albion.

He stood there in the main office, looking at the one active screen. It was still showing the same blue door. No news from Jamal. Donovan had tried phoning him but it just rang out and tripped over to voicemail. If he had more energy and felt less tired, he should start to get worried.

He rubbed his face, closed his eyes, suddenly aware of just how worn out he really was. He should go home, he knew that. But he would sit a little longer. Look at the screen, see if something happened. Try not to think of murdered boys that nobody cared for.

He went into the kitchen to make himself a coffee. A strong one, keep himself awake, when he heard the key in the front door.

‘Hello?' he called out, peering into the main office.

‘Man,' said a voice he recognized only too well, ‘you would not believe the fuckin' hassle I have had to endure to get here. Straight up, blood, it has been mental.'

Donovan stepped into the office, smiled. Jamal came in through the main door, threw his key on the nearest desk. ‘Jamal … I was getting worried about you.'

‘Worried? So you fuckin' should be, bruv. I've been like Jason Bourne crossin' borders an' dodgin' the CIA to get here.' A huge grin split his face. ‘But it was worth it, man.'

Donovan frowned. ‘Why?'

Jamal stepped back. Donovan was aware of another figure in the doorway. Jamal ushered the figure in. Donovan froze.

‘Joe,' said Jamal, ‘meet your son. Meet David.'

The boy smiled.

Acknowledgements

Thanks to everyone who helped either through professional obligation, friendship, love, inspiration or some combination of the above: Mark Adair, Ray Banks, Mark Billingham, Tony Black, Ken Bruen, Sharon Canavar, Andrew Clark, Jay Clifton, Sally Cline, Steve Cook, Natasha Cooper, Alastair Craig, Jim Eagles, Mike Fenton Stevens, Lizzie Forbes Ritte, Kim Galvin, Fiona Geddes, Stephanie Glencross, Jane Gregory, Allan Guthrie, Claiborne Hancock, Robert Horwell, Maxim Jakubowski, Paul Johnston, Jennifer Jordan, Jon Jordan, Ruth Jordan, Ali Karim, Danuta Kean, Deb Kemp, Nick Kemp, Kate Lyall Grant, Angela Macmahon, Ken McCoy, Jemma McDonagh, Claire Morris, Jefferson Kingston Pierce, Steve Pratt, Sheila Quigley, Chris Simmons, Mike Stotter, Cathi Unsworth, Linda Waites, Sarah Weinman, Kevin Wignall, Laura Wilson, Mark Wingett, everyone at Borders Silverlink, Borders Team Valley, Waterstone's Sunderland and Waterstone's Newcastle, and special thanks to all the readers who have taken the time to write and chat to me, either at events or through my website, to tell me how much they enjoy my books. It's an old cliché but its true. You really do make it all worthwhile.

And next time, no cliffhangers. Just answers. Promise.

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

copyright © 2009 by Martyn Waites

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