There’s a sharp bang on the door and Milly pops her head around.
Richard continues, “—there should be someone turning up there soon. I didn’t want to be presump—”
Milly waves for me to listen, her face uncharacteristically animated.
“Sorry, Richard, one second,” I say, lowering the phone. “What is it?” I ask.
“There’s someone here to see you. He doesn’t have an appointment that I can see, but Greg from Caroline Miller’s office just called and said the appointment has already been okayed with them! With Caroline Miller!” Milly’s voice is hushed but her pitch is high. Caroline Miller is the chief executive of the whole hospital. We only ever see her at events and general meetings. “Did you know about this?”
“What’s the person waiting’s name?”
Milly blinks at me blankly. “Oh, sorry, his name is Peter Chorley.”
I nod. Ah, okay. Well, that makes sense.
“Thanks, Milly. Tell him I’ll be out in a second.” I don’t know whether to be pleased or annoyed that Richard was so certain I’d say yes, but then I suppose he is a neuropsychiatrist and human nature isn’t exactly brain surgery, is it? Oh, wait, it kind of is.
I lift the receiver back to my ear as Milly slips out of the room.
“I think whoever was on their way is here, Richard.”
“Ah! Perfect timing. I’ll leave you to it then. Listen—let me know how it goes, I’m interested. Your secretary has my number. If you need anything at all, you know where I am, Emma. Don’t be a stranger.”
5
THE MAN
DAY 1—BACK ON THE BEACH
“I understand that, Mike, I do.” Officer Poole and the photographer for theBrancaster Timeshave reached an impasse in the car park. Mike Redman’s camera hangs from the thick Nikon strap around his neck between them. “I appreciate that you have a job to do, but let us do our job first and then…fire away. Does that sound fair? The most important thing is we get this guy taken care of. Could you just put the camera away, please, mate?”
Mike scowls, obviously not considering Poole to be his mate.
Officer Poole shifts his six-foot, four-inch frame into Mike Redman’s personal space and gives him his most reasonable look. “Come on, mate, just put it away.” Mike is unmoved.
“Look, Mike, the last thing we need is for this guy’s family to find out the state he’s in in the bloody local news. There’s a procedure. So can you please delete those and just…just get back in your car. Now.”
In the distance an ambulance siren wails closer.
“Can’t do that,mate.” Mike smirks, with clearly no intention of deleting anything.
Officer Poole exhales loudly and rubs a hand over his face. “Ah, come on. Look, we both know how you got here so quick. Play the game, Mike. You’ve been warned already. I don’t know why you keep testing the system, ’cause we’re gonna have to charge you at some point, Mike. You know you’re not supposed to be listening in on Airwave. It’s an arrestable offense to listen in on police radio and you know it, mate. I don’t know what equipment you’re using but it’s not legal, the frequency’s supposed to be secure. We will search the office, Mike, I’m serious. We will come down there and search it.”
“You seriously thinkThe Timesis going to let you search their office? On what grounds? You’ve got absolutely no cause. Personally, I’d check for a leak on your end,mate. Wouldn’t be the first time.”
“Okay, first of all, Mike, you don’t work forTHETimes,okay? You write for the fuckingBrancaster Times,so don’t get uppity with me. Secondly, if you did work forThe Times,you wouldn’t be out here arguing with me in a rural car park, would you? So, do everyone a favor and put the camera away.”
Behind Mike, at the edge of the car park, an attractive woman rises from a bench, finishing a phone call. Poole has been deliberately ignoring her. Now she pushes her long red hair off her shoulder and makes her way toward the driver’s side of the only other car in the car park. Chris Poole’s face falls. Things are going to get much more complicated now.
She’s in her early thirties, relaxed, confident as she rests one arm against the open car door and reaches in languidly to pull out a full take-out coffee from the cup holder. She holds Poole’s gaze as she sips.
“Is there a problem, Officer?” she purrs. This is Zara Poole. Officer Poole’s wife.
Zara is the only person that can suck the wind right out of his sails and fill them up again. And after all these years, he still feels like the teenage boy Zara flirted with at school whenever he’s around her. She still makes him nervous because, if he’s honest with himself, she’s the only woman he’s ever really wanted to impregnate but she hasn’t let him, yet. They’ve practiced, obviously, but Zara isn’t quite ready to step back from work. Meaning power-play situations never tend to end in his favor.
“Zee. Honey, can you get Mike to stop, please? No pictures. No anything. Just…let’s just call it a day now, shall we?” Officer Poole holds his wife’s gaze, his weary face imploring. “Zara?”
She grins. “Out of my hands, sweetheart. Photography is not my department. I just do the words! And, um, Chris honey, quick question? Where are your shoes?” All eyes travel to Officer Poole’s naked feet.
