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‘I’m not saying this to make you feel bad. Mr Creed would hate to see you this unhappy and he’d hate to see the Manor House become your prison. Before he died, he asked me to look out for you.’
‘He did?’
She nods. ‘And if I don’t say anything I won’t be doing what I promised him. He said you might do this.’
I was shocked. I’d been keeping my memories of Nick to myself. The pain his death caused me felt intensely private, something I instinctively wanted to deal with alone. It hadn’t occurred to me that he and Kitty might have talked about how his death could affect me. When he tried to talk to me about what I would do after he was gone, I would always tell him I’d be fine and change the subject because it was too painful. It was touching that he’d predicted my behaviour so accurately and taken steps to try to help me. But he was my soulmate, so it also made perfect sense.
She held out a note and I took it. It was one of those slivers of paper that you tear off an advertisement that’s been pinned up. It said, ‘Sasha. Yoga.’ There was a phone number.
‘What’s this?’ I asked.
‘Yoga classes. Sasha’s a good teacher, brilliant with beginners. Will you try it?’
I felt sceptical and tired by the thought of it. ‘I’ve never done anything like this before.’
‘It’s only an hour a week and Sasha is very welcoming.’
‘Do you go?’
‘I go to one of her evening classes, but you could go during the day. It would give you some structure and you might meet some people.’
I looked at the piece of paper, and back at Kitty. She seemed so solid standing there, and it can’t have been easy for her to tell me these things, even if Nick made her promise to. It felt hard to say no.
‘I’ll try it,’ I said.
‘You won’t regret it,’ she said, ‘I promise.’
I wasn’t sure why she seemed so excited that I’d agreed to try yoga, but I supposed it must have been hard for her watching me withdraw into myself. I guess sometimes you don’t realise how much you’re affecting others.
‘Thank you,’ I said. ‘It’s very good of you to look out for me.’
She smiled awkwardly and, though I still felt surprised, I thought, if something good can come out of Nick’s death, if Kitty and I can get closer, then it’s something to be grateful for.
5
SATURDAY
Hal
‘Steen,’ the detective says. He answers his phone on the move, on his way to an interview room, walking fast, shouldering through doors, questions he wants to ask a suspect running around his head. The response he expects to get is ‘No comment’, but it hasn’t stopped him preparing thoroughly and tenaciously.
If you look like Hal Steen, tenacity is a useful quality. He isn’t blessed with smooth skin or even features. Nobody ever admired him for his looks.
‘Hal,’ his boss says. ‘A body has been found in a swimming pool out at Lancaut, on the Wye.’
Hal stops and wedges himself against the side of the corridor as colleagues pass. He knows the Lancaut Peninsula a little. He’s hiked a winding trail near there, high above the River Wye, and remembers its beauty, how peaceful and detached from its surroundings its geography made it feel and the sense he had oftime ticking backwards, of his brain slowing down and repairing when it sorely needed to.
‘I want you to lead this,’ his boss says. ‘Okay?’
‘Yes. Absolutely.’ He speaks calmly, but he doesn’t feel it. Best to keep a lid on his excitement so he doesn’t say anything to make the boss change his mind. Hal’s been waiting a long time for an opportunity to investigate something that could be meaty. He’s watched colleagues who are slicker and more skilful office politicians, get opportunities that he hasn’t, though he’s as good as any of them. Better, often. ‘I’m interviewing now, but I can head out to Lancaut as soon as I’m finished.’
Hal sees his partner, Jen, walking down the corridor towards him. She’s three things he would like to be: tall, good-looking and tolerant of bucket-loads of caffeine. He holds up a finger to halt her.
‘Can someone else interview for you?’ the boss asks down the line. ‘You’re going to want Jen on this, yes?’
Hal pauses before answering, thinking about all the prep he’s put in, his doubts over who else could run the interview the way he wants. It’s hard to let go, but the suspect is a minor drug dealer who they’ve seen before and they’ll see again. He needs to let go if he wants this case. ‘Yes,’ he says. ‘On both.’
He ends the call and turns to Jen. He can feel that his face is flushed. ‘There’s a body in a swimming pool out at Lancaut. Boss wants me to lead. I want you on it with me.’
