The Half Truth (16 page)

He was already waiting for her when she approached the coastguard tower. He looked on edge. The wariness was still in his eyes and he glanced around repeatedly. The sea breeze was playing with wisps of his hair and Tina was glad she had tied hers back into a ponytail. She took her cardigan, which had been resting in the crook of her arm, and put it on to tame the goose bumps that had appeared on her arm, taking care not to knock the pin from the collar of her blouse.

She knew what she had to do

As she walked towards Sasha, Tina tried to work out what she was feeling. Trepidation, certainly, was the most overriding emotion. She was getting over the shock of him being alive and now she was pretty certain of his agenda – one which wasn’t for the love of her or their son.

‘Hi,’ she said as she came to a stop in front of him, making sure it was just out of kissing distance. He seemed to read the body language and checked himself from embracing her.

‘Привет,’ he greeted her in Russian. ‘Kak pozhivaesh?’

For a moment she was taken back to their married days. He always said hi and asked her how she was in his native tongue. It had been an endearing gesture, one that had always made her smile.

She nodded, keeping her emotions in check, refocused on the here and now. She mustn’t let him get to her like this. ‘I’m fine, thanks,’ she said, aware that they both knew it was a lie.

‘Do you want to get a coffee?’ he asked.

Tina shook her head. ‘No, let’s sit on this bench,’ she said, remembering John had told her to keep within range of the car so the listening equipment could still pick up the bug in her collar.

‘Why are you back?’ she asked, not looking at him but keeping her gaze fixed straight ahead. The tide was out, the sun shone down on the wet sand, reflecting back in the rivulets of water which filtered their way out to sea.

She heard him sigh. ‘As I said the other day, it is complicated.’ He sat down beside her. Sasha turned her towards him and rested his hand on the side of her face. ‘My darling, Tina, I have loved you from the first day I saw you and I have never stopped loving you. But … things have happened.’

‘Tell me,’ she said, placing her hand on his. She knew John would be listening to their every word, but she didn’t care. This would be her only chance to find out what had made Sasha leave her.

‘When I went back to Russia I had to build a new life for myself. I knew I could not have you or our child, I could not put either of you in danger. You do understand that?’

Tina gave a slight nod of the head. ‘Sort of.’ She didn’t want to stop him talking, not now. She felt she was close to finding out what had brought him back.

‘I met someone, a woman. We married.’ He paused, allowing her time to take this in.

‘What’s her name?’ She didn’t know why this was important, but she needed to construct the new Mrs Bolotnikov in her mind. ‘What does she look like?’

‘Please, Tina, it is not necessary.’

‘It is. For me, it is very necessary.’

‘Her name is Rozalina. She has dark hair. Brown eyes. About your height.’

‘Do you have a photo?’

He hesitated, his hand resting on the back pocket of his jeans. ‘There’s something else.’

‘You have a child.’ It was a statement, not a question. Why else would he hesitate to show her a photo?’ Pain surged through her veins straight to her heart.

Slowly he removed the wallet and opening the soft, brown leather, he showed her the photo. Tina had been right. A young woman smiled back at her and beside her was a boy of about two years old. Dark hair, like his parents. He was smiling at the camera. The little dimple in his cheek made Tina catch her breath. It was like looking at Dimitri a few years ago. The dimple that both boys had inherited from their father. Her eyes blurred and she realised it was tears. She blinked hard, not wanting to allow them to escape. ‘What’s his name?’

‘Nikolay.’

‘He has your smile.’ A thought struck her. ‘He’s like his brother.’ The tears came now. Dimitri not only now had a father who was alive, he also had a brother, albeit a half-brother. She looked up at Sasha and a tear rolled down his cheek. She wiped it away with her thumb. ‘Oh, Sasha, what a mess.’

They clung to each other and both cried. It truly was a complete mess. How had it come to this and what was the purpose of it all?

‘He is not well,’ said Sasha eventually, as he pulled away. ‘He is a very ill boy. He needs treatment, which I cannot afford. I need money for the operation.’

‘I’m so sorry,’ said Tina, with genuine emotion.

‘I need your help.’

‘Me? What can I do? I haven’t got any money, Sasha.’ She dropped her hands away.

‘You have something that I need. Something I gave you.’

‘What are you talking about?’

‘Okay, listen very carefully.’ He ran his hands down his face and then holding her at the tops of her arms, looked intently at her. ‘Do you remember your last birthday we had together. We went to Covent Garden for a meal?’

‘Of course. You ordered a huge bottle of champagne.’

Sasha nodded. ‘That is right. And do you remember what I gave you?’

‘A necklace.’ The memory washed over her. It has been a lovely evening, one she had treasured in her memory as the last time they had been out together. A bittersweet thought.

‘What else did I give you?’

‘A key,’ she stumbled over the words as her emotions fought to take control and send her into another ocean of tears. ‘You said it was the key to your heart. That it locked the happiness in for a lifetime.’ Oh no, now she realised he had been laying the groundwork in case something went wrong with the robbery. Her once-beautiful memory of their evening out for her birthday had, in fact, been the last supper, except she hadn’t known it then. Hadn’t known that a week later he would be gone, seemingly forever.

She realised the sob was her own.

‘Tina, stop, please. You must listen.’

He sounded desperate. Who the hell was he to tell her to stop crying, to stop feeling? ‘You have no idea how much pain you have caused.’

‘I’m sorry. More sorry than you can ever understand, but please listen. I have not got much time.’ He glanced around, up and down the seafront. ‘Do you still have the key?’

Tina wiped her eyes, quashing the grief that was churning in her throat. ‘I do. It’s at home.’

‘It’s for a safe deposit box in Brighton.’ He handed her a piece of paper. ‘These are the details. You must get me the money so I can pay for Nikolay to have the operation he needs. Without it, he will die.’

In that instant she knew she had made a mistake. She stood up, pulling Sasha to his feet. She had only seconds to act.

Tina threw her arms around him. She kissed his cheek long and hard.

‘I’m so sorry,’ she whispered.

‘What for?’

‘You must forgive me.’ She felt his arms tighten around her. ‘Trust me. I will do it.’

He pulled back to look at her.

‘Thank you. Спасибо.’

She leaned in and whispered in his ear. ‘Бегай. Бегай!’

‘No!’ John shouted, pulling the headphones from his ears.

‘What did she say?’ said Martin, doing the same to his headset. John was already throwing the driver’s door open.

‘Бегай. Run,’ shouted John as he slammed the door shut. ‘She’s telling him to run.’

The two men raced towards the seafront, it was over fifty meters away and Sasha now had a head start. Their feet pounded the tarmac, covering the distance at speed.

They rounded the corner of an ice-cream stall. The bench was just along from it.

There sitting, her hands on her lap, waiting for them, was Tina.

‘Where is he?’ demanded John coming to a halt in front of her.

She shook her head. ‘I’m sorry. I couldn’t do it.’

‘For fuck’s sake, Tina!’ He was aware he had shouted. John scoured the promenade. Apart from a couple of joggers and someone walking their dog, it was empty. John spun round, his eyes scanning every direction.

‘There! In between the cars,’ said Martin. ‘I’ll go. You stay with her.’

Tina stood up and watched Martin thunder across the crazy golf course, hopping over the small stone wall in pursuit of Sasha.

‘What the hell were you playing at?’ demanded John, fighting to keep his temper in check.

‘You heard what he said. His son is sick. He needs the money to pay for life-saving treatment,’ she said. ‘I couldn’t let my son’s brother die.’

After everything Sasha had done to her, she could still find compassion. John felt humbled and shamed.

A crackle of a radio splintered the quietness between them and a rasping, out-of-breath voice sounded out.

‘Lost him … Can’t see him anywhere.’ John saw the relief on Tina’s face. Martin’s voice came again. ‘John? You there, mate? Did you hear me? He got away.’

John lifted the radio to his mouth. ‘Yep, I heard.’ A twiddle of a button and the radio fell silent.

John and Martin walked into Brogan’s office and stood in front on their boss’s desk.

‘Sir.’

‘Sit down, you two,’ said Brogan. ‘Do you want to tell me what exactly happened today?’

‘Sasha Bolotnikov gave us the slip,’ said Martin.

‘And how exactly did that happen?’

‘Took off. Caught us off guard,’ said John.

‘And the listening bug you put on Tina Bolotnikov didn’t work?’ said Brogan, tapping the edge of his desk with his pen.

‘No, Sir,’ said John.

Brogan leaned forwards. ‘So that’s the official line. The one going in the report. Shall we have the truth now?’

‘That is the truth, Sir,’ said Martin.

‘I don’t know what went on there today, you two, but I wasn’t born yesterday and I can make a good guess. Covering for a suspect is not something I approve of.’

‘She’s not a suspect,’ countered John.

‘You don’t know that for sure. She could be playing you at your own game,’ said Brogan. ‘You’re getting too close to all this, John. Boundaries are blurring. You need to watch your step because I’m going to be looking very closely at this now. Do you understand?’

‘Yes, Sir,’ said John. ‘Is there anything else?’ He was keen to file his report and get back down to Sussex. Brogan had insisted both he and Martin come back to HQ for a personal face-to-face debriefing of that day’s events. In other words, a sophisticated bollocking.

‘That’s it now, you can go.’ Brogan dropped his pen onto the desk. ‘Oh, actually, John, you wait behind, I want a word with you.’

Martin closed the door as he left.

‘My wife bumped into Hannah Edwards the other day,’ said Brogan, his voice too casual for John’s liking. ‘Hannah mentioned that you had been round to see her.’

‘That’s right.’

‘Lovely daughter, she’s got. My missus said they both seemed happy. They’re moving on with their lives.’ John wasn’t sure where this conversation was going, so he said nothing and let Brogan continue. ‘It’s a good thing, John. You need to move on as well.’ Brogan paused but John remained silent, he had no desire to get involved in a conversation about moving on with his DI. Brogan sighed as he realised he was getting nothing from John. ‘Right, get out of here before I change my mind about leaving you on the Porboski case.’

John knew the last time he saw Hannah they hadn’t parted on the best of terms. His realisation that he was, in fact, damning Hannah for doing exactly what he wanted Tina to do, move one from her dead husband, had plagued him tirelessly. The hypocrisy wasn’t wasted on him.

He pulled up outside Hannah’s house. He hoped he had timed it well. By his reckoning, Hannah should be back from the school run within the next few minutes. With a bit of luck, the boyfriend wasn’t about.

The blue Ford C-Max swung onto the drive. John could see Ella in the back seat.

John got out of his car and stood at the end of the driveway. Hannah was now at the front door with Ella.

‘Hannah,’ said John, standing at the apron of the driveway.

She turned. He saw her face register him. A frown followed. She turned back to the door, unlocked it and ushered her daughter inside.

‘Go in, darling,’ she said. ‘Mummy will get the shopping out of the car.’ She walked to the boot of her car. ‘I wasn’t expecting to see you,’ she said opening the hatchback.

‘I wondered if we could have a chat.’

‘A chat? Honestly, John, I don’t think we need to chat about anything.’ She heaved two bags of shopping from the car.

‘Here, let me,’ said John.

No, I’ve got it. I can manage.’ She put the bags on the ground and faced John. ‘It’s not a chat you want. You want forgiveness.’ John took a step back on to the path, the words unexpected. Hannah continued. ‘So listen to me. I. Forgive. You.’ She slammed the boot down hard and grabbed the shopping bags. ‘Now you can get on with your life and let me get on with mine.’

Hannah strode up the path and in through the front door without looking back once.

John’s feet may as well have been welded to the spot and his throat fused closed. He couldn’t form a reply. This was not how he had envisaged this encounter. It appeared he had just angered Hannah even more.

Finally, his feet responded to message from his brain and he walked back to his car feeling no better than he had before. If anything, he felt worse.

Tina was at her parents with Dimitri. John had taken her straight there after leaving the beach that morning and before heading back up to London for his meeting with Brogan. Tina was glad to be able to sit with her parents and talk of normal mundane things. She wanted to put all thoughts of Sasha and what he was involved in right from her mind.

‘Stay for some tea,’ said Tina’s mum. ‘I’ve made plenty.’

‘Yes, stay, love,’ said her father. ‘Your mother is happiest when you are all eating.’

So Tina stayed and although she thought she had no appetite, once her mum had put a plate of shepherd’s pie in front of her, Tina realised she was actually very hungry. She was heartened to see Dimitri tucking into a second plateful. He always said it was one of his favourite dinners his nana made.

‘Are you all right?’ said her mother as Tina helped clear away the empty plates later on. ‘You don’t look yourself.’

‘Oh, I’m fine, mum,’ said Tina. ‘Don’t worry about me. Just a bit tired.’

‘No, you don’t look tired.’ Her mother began to rinse the plates. ‘You look like you have the weight of the world on your shoulders. I can always tell when there’s something wrong.’

Tina went to protest but changed her mind. There was little point. Her mother was right. Pam had always been able to tell when something was bothering Tina, right from when she was a young child, coming out of class, upset because she had been told off for talking too much, as a teenager when she had first falling out with a boy and through to adulthood. The strain of the past few weeks was clearly evident to her mother.

‘I’ve got a few things I’m trying to sort out at the moment,’ said Tina. Might as well tell her mother the truth, or as near to the truth as she dared.

‘Anything I can help you with?’

Tina took the rinsed plates from the drainer and began loading the dishwasher. ‘Not really. Not yet, anyway. But thank you.’

Pam turned off the tap. ‘You know where I am if you need me. Or your father, for that matter.’ As if on cue, a screech of laughter came from the living room.

Tina raised a questioning eye to her mum. ‘What are those two up to?’

‘You know what your dad’s like – he’s as big a kid as Dimitri. They were like this the other night when Dimitri stayed – laughing their heads off at cartoons.’

Tina looked fondly back towards the living room. ‘I hate to be the one to break up the party, but I really should be getting back home. Dimitri has school tomorrow and I’ve got work, plus I’d like to look in on Mr Cooper.’

‘Why don’t you leave Dimitri here? He can stay the night. In fact, why don’t you stay as well?’

Tina looked at the concern etched on her mother’s face. A simple yes would take away the worry lines of the older woman. ‘But I haven’t got any of our things and I need to feed Rascal.’

‘Why don’t you nip home, do what you have to and then come back?’

It was a tempting offer, but Tina knew if she said yes now, it would be too easy to continue saying yes. One night would turn into two, then three, then four, then … well, she’d be moved in before any of them knew it. She was aware her parents would be most pleased at this – they regularly asked her if she wanted to move in with them. And, yes, it would make life a lot easier, more convenient and, at times, a lot less lonely, but Tina had thus far refused. She needed her own space and she didn’t want to become a burden to her parents. She had always envisaged that one day she might meet someone again. She hadn’t envisaged, however, that it would be the investigating officer of the secret criminal past of her husband who had faked his own death.

It occurred to her that Sasha might be waiting for her. She was his only hope of getting the money he needed for his other son. She gulped at the thought. Another son. Dimitri’s half-brother. She had to be there for Sasha, no matter what she felt about his deceit, his lies, their life built on lies. The truth was, there was a child’s life on the line.

‘Look, I’ll go home,’ said Tina. ‘If Dimitri could stay, that would be great.’ The concern in her mother’s eyes took on a fiercer glow. ‘It’s okay, Mum, honest. There’s nothing to worry about. I just need a bit of time to sort a few things out.’

‘Anything I can help you with?’ said Pam.

Tina hesitated. Could she bring herself to tell a lie to her mum? In the end she settled for a white lie, or rather, an adaptation of the truth. ‘It’s John. I’m quite fond of him, but I’ve been thinking about Sasha a lot these last few weeks and it’s all getting to me.’

‘You shouldn’t be so hard on yourself. You can’t drag the past around; you have nothing to feel guilty about.’

Tina nodded. ‘I know.’

‘Why don’t you go home and have a long, hot bath, pamper yourself and have an early night.’

‘Thanks Mum, I really appreciate it. And please don’t worry. I’ll be fine.’

Tina gave her mother a hug. She hated telling lies to her, but she couldn’t exactly tell her the truth.

As soon as Tina walked through the front door of Belfour Avenue, she knew something was wrong. Rascal mewed a greeting as he trotted through the open kitchen door. The first giveaway. She knew she had most definitely shut the door to the hallway before leaving.

Her heart gave a sprint. Someone had been in the house. Or worse, someone was in the house. She knew they wouldn’t be able to get in through the loft hatch any more, not since John had fitted it with a padlock, so this meant they must have got in by some other means, via the kitchen, judging by the open door.

She wondered if it was Sasha and called out his name. If there was someone else in the house, now would be their time to escape out the back, the way they had come. She waited by the front door, her hand on the lock, ready to make her escape if it wasn’t Sasha.

Rascal rubbed his arched back against her leg and mewed some more. Tina bent down and lifted the cat into her arms.

‘Hello, boy,’ she whispered, holding him close to her racing heart. Rascal twisted his body, a protest at being held too close. Maybe he sensed her unease. Tina let him jump to the ground.

Flicking the latch to stop the door from locking, Tina eased the front door fully open and picking up a shoe, wedge it under the weatherboard. She wanted a clear escape route.

She edged over to the bottom of the staircase and craned her neck to look down the hallway and through into the kitchen. A small pane of glass in the back door was broken; the intruder’s way in.

Tina took her phone from her handbag and tapped in 999, but didn’t press the call button. If it was Sasha, if he was in the house, she certainly didn’t want the police here. If, however, it turned out to be someone else, then that was a whole different matter.

‘Sasha? Are you there?’ she called down the hallway. ‘I’m on my own. It’s okay. I promise.’

Tina glanced back towards the open front door and the safety of the empty street. It was tempting, but what would she do then? Call the police? Call John? She mulled the latter option over in her mind. No, she didn’t want John here. Not tonight. Possibly not ever.

Tina took a deep breath in an attempt to settle her pulse rate. She needed to keep calm and clear-headed. Thinking of John was not conducive to the current situation.

Just as she knew straight away something wasn’t right when she first came home, instinctively she felt sure there was no one else in the house, despite her caution. She forced one foot in front of the other, stopping at the living room and looked through the crack between the door and the doorframe. The room appeared empty. She stepped in, scanning the room, noting its slightly dishevelled look. Things had been moved and replaced, but not to their exact position. The books on the shelf in the alcove weren’t lined up as neatly as usual, one or two were poking out, the photo frame on the mantelpiece wasn’t at its usual angle and the sun-catcher hanging from the sash window had been turned, the sailing boat no longer facing left but right. Someone had been in, clearly looking for something, but had done it with care. Not a callous burglar, to whom the crime was victimless, no this burglar, if indeed, she could call them that, had shown respect.

Tina ventured tentatively into the kitchen, pushing the door wide open and looking in, satisfying herself that her intuition was on point.

One of the kitchen drawers, the one found in most houses – reserved for all the odd bits and pieces that didn’t have a particular home – wasn’t shut property. The end of a screwdriver was sticking up, preventing its closure; a sure sign the contents had been riffled through.

Tina moved further into the kitchen and, looking over the breakfast bar to the back door, could see jagged pieces of broken glass had been scuffed to one side, as if the person responsible for the damage had a conscience and was keeping the fragments from being accidently trodden on.

The tension in Tina’s shoulders fled her taut muscles. No burglar would bother doing that. It would have been Sasha – that she was convinced of. He wouldn’t want her or Dimitri walking on the glass, or even the cat, for that matter.

She leant back against the worktop.

‘Tina?’ The deep but soft voice from the hallway made her jump. She spun round and managed to suppress the scream that attempted to erupt from her throat.