Behind Closed Doors (Season One: Book 7) (Jessica Daniel) (17 page)

‘You mean before I’m too fat to leave the house.’

Caroline grinned, shuffling away to give Jessica some space. ‘That too.’

‘Caz . . .’

‘What?’

Jessica rubbed her stomach. ‘I don’t feel very well.’

‘What’s wrong?’

‘I’m not sure. I’ve not been eating or sleeping well. It’s been building.’ She pointed towards the bump. ‘It hurts here.’

Jessica tried to keep herself calm, knowing that twinges were perfectly normal – her doctor had said as much. It had been a stressful day and she had been struggling to look after
herself.

‘What would you like me to do?’ The slightly panicked tone of Caroline’s voice didn’t help.

Jessica breathed in deeply, remembering the way she had been taught. She could feel the discomfort jabbing into her. It wasn’t what she would call pain but it definitely wasn’t
right.

‘I’m not sure,’ Jessica said. ‘It might be something I’ve eaten.’

WEDNESDAY

After Heather’s outpouring from the night before, Jessica had spent over an hour lying next to her on the bed, waiting until she had sobbed herself to sleep. She had seen
more tears in the past nine months than at any point during her life. Jessica could feel it weighing on her. Cole might have thought this would be the perfect way for her to get back into the job
again but it was simply pouring more hurt on top of everything she had already experienced. Yet Heather was more damaged than she was, not just hurt by what she had been through but pining for a
man she would never have to herself and who showed none of the women any respect.

Jessica had slept surprisingly well after that. She didn’t know what Moses was trying to achieve, or how deeply Glenn was involved, let alone how much Zipporah knew, but one of the things
she couldn’t fault them for was the comfort of the beds.

She jumped as the alarm woke her up, rolling over and reaching for the spot where her phone would be if she was at home. She would usually jab and smack the screen until it stopped making a
noise. It was only when her arms flapped against an empty space that Jessica remembered where she was.

Heather was up quickly, washing and dressing as if the previous night had not happened. Jessica stayed in bed, rolling over to face away from the light.

‘Breakfast is soon,’ Heather said as she passed Jessica’s bed.

‘I don’t feel well.’

‘What’s wrong?’

‘Something in my stomach doesn’t feel right.’

‘We all ate the same.’

‘I know, perhaps I strained something being outside yesterday? It just hurts.’

Jessica had her eyes closed but she could sense Heather nearby, watching her.

‘Okay, I’ll tell Zip.’

Not long after Heather had left, the door opened and Zipporah entered. She seemed weary, bags under her eyes, her lips tight and thin. Jessica knew the signs of exhaustion well. Even though it
didn’t look like a cold day, she was bundled up in a turtleneck jumper and thick jeans.

‘How are you, my dear?’ Zipporah asked, crouching by the bed.

Jessica repeated her story, clutching her stomach and groaning as Zipporah ran her fingers along it, before stroking Jessica’s hair away from her face.

‘It’s going to be a quiet day around here anyway because it’s market day.’

‘How many of you go?’

‘We have a few sites to visit, so today it will be around a dozen of us. You could have come if you were feeling well – it’s not the same as recruitment.’

Jessica rubbed her stomach again, groaning. ‘Sorry.’

‘No matter, perhaps next week? I’ll tell Moses that you’re going to be here. It’s important that we keep track of everyone. If you’re feeling any better later,
I’m sure they’ll be able to find some food for you. We’re always back for dinner in any case.’

She stroked Jessica’s cheek with the back of her hand but it felt different to the times when Moses had run his fingers across her skin. This was more motherly, protective. It was so easy
to forget how young she was.

‘I don’t know what you’re used to,’ Zipporah added, ‘but we do not allow any sort of pain medication here.’

Jessica didn’t want any but it left an obvious question: ‘What if someone is really ill?’

‘We have a medical professional here.’

Jessica assumed she meant the woman who had assisted after the new recruit had smashed his head.

‘What if someone is really, seriously injured, though? If they were dying?’

Zipporah paused, licking her lips nervously. ‘We would make sure they were well looked after.’

‘But would they be allowed to return if they had been taken to a hospital?’

The other woman’s eyes darted from side to side. ‘We’ve never been in that situation.’ Before Jessica could reply, she added: ‘Get well soon. We’re all better
for having you here.’

She started to stand but Jessica sensed now was the time to ask one of the questions stuck in her mind. ‘You seem tired today.’

Zipporah shifted around until she was sitting on the edge of Jessica’s bed, rubbing her eyes. ‘Some days it’s harder to carry around our burdens than others.’

‘Can I ask you something?’

‘Of course. You can always come to me.’

‘It’s about Moses and Katie.’

Zipporah nodded, smiling gently. ‘I realise it might seem a little different at first for people who are used to things being a certain way on the outside.’

‘But you don’t mind?’

Zipporah swallowed, glancing towards the window. ‘It would be unfair of me to try to keep him to myself. He is a great man. Of course others should enjoy the wisdom he has to
share.’

That word again.

Jessica wondered how well it would go down in a packed Manchester bar on a Friday evening. ‘All right, love, I’m just wondering if I can share some wisdom with you?’ Depending
on which bar, he would either end up having a stiletto jabbed in his eye, or he’d be ‘invited’ into a back alleyway by a pair of bouncers and ‘encouraged’ to stop
harassing the customers. Actually, Jessica knew of a bar or two where he’d probably end up in that back alleyway with a middle-aged divorcee.

Either way, it sounded as if Zipporah and Heather had taken their cues from the same person. Jessica could almost hear Moses saying it himself as justification.

Jessica wasn’t sure how to reply. The way Zipporah had looked away hardly convinced her the woman was pleased with her husband’s infidelity. ‘I just—’

Zipporah’s demeanour suddenly changed. ‘Listen,’ she snapped. ‘If you want to be with him, you don’t need to ask my permission.’

Jessica was stuck with her mouth open. That wasn’t what she had meant at all. ‘I’m sorry, I—’

Zipporah dismissively waved a hand, instantly calm again. ‘No, it’s me who should apologise. I’m sorry for raising my voice. Sometimes we should practise what we preach. I have
no objections to any interest you may have in my husband. I cannot blame you. He is truly special.’

Before Jessica could reply, Zipporah was on her feet again, heading towards the door. ‘I have to go now. I do hope you feel better soon.’

Jessica stayed in bed for a while, listening to the scraping of plates and the clatter of cutlery floors below her. She didn’t have the best choice of clothes but picked a pair of trousers
she knew she could move easily in, as well as the most practical, warmest top she had taken from the store.

From the window, she watched as the minibus was brought around to the front of the building. Ali got out of the driver’s seat and began loading various goods into the back with Glenn, who
turned around, peering up towards Jessica, sensing he was being watched. Jessica was just out of sight, knowing she could view them clearly with the angle and probably the tint of the glass making
it impossible for them to see her.

She saw trays of vegetables, plus crates that were easily hoisted, meaning they likely contained clothes or crafts. Jessica realised she didn’t even know which market it was they went to.
Charley hadn’t mentioned anything but she couldn’t believe their surveillance had somehow missed it.

Ali and Glenn waited next to the bus as Heather left the house along with Zipporah and eleven others. Glenn stood in the centre of the turning circle, watching the van roar away. With Moses and
Glenn remaining, and Wayne having left, that meant half the number of residents had gone to the market.

As the van disappeared over the ridge out of sight, Glenn turned towards the house, hands on hips, scanning from side to side, looking for anything out of place. Jessica didn’t dare move,
just in case he was somehow able to peer through the tinted glass.

Of everyone she had met in the house, he was the coldest. The others at least made an effort to appear friendly, regardless of whether it was their true nature. But she had not seen him heading
off to the after-dinner sessions where everyone shared their stories and she had no idea what had drawn him to the house in the first place. He had the apparent trust of Moses and there was
something between him and Zipporah too, given the way she had scurried after him when he told her it was ‘time to go’.

After a few minutes of pacing, Glenn walked around the side of the house, heading towards the allotments. Jessica waited for a few minutes before making her way onto the landing. She rested
against the bedroom door, listening for any hints of noise in the house. The high ceilings and wide corridors were empty, echoless, leaving an eerie calm hanging over the property. Jessica padded
forward, the luxurious carpet absorbing the sounds, making it easier to sneak around but more likely someone could get close without her realising.

From the journeys down to mealtimes, Jessica knew the bedrooms were split between the top and middle floors. For the first time since arriving, she did a full loop of the top floor. She
didn’t risk opening any of the doors but the view from the windows gave her a first proper sight of the land at the rear of the house. From ground level where she had been working, she had
seen the lawns and the woods but the central window allowed her to see into the distance.

The garden stretched a lot further than the one at the front, meaning the area owned by Zipporah and Moses was vast. A fence encircled the whole patch, with the woods Jessica had noticed first
time around dipping into a valley after a few hundred metres. The morning sun reflected off the surface of a small lake just over the tops of the trees. From the ground there was no way she would
have seen it. Liam Renton had been found in the Manchester canal, drowned, but it was unclear if the death had happened elsewhere and then his body had been dumped, or if he had died in the canal
itself. He had been dead for a few weeks, his decomposed body hiding the clues they needed to tell them more. If he had been attacked here, then the lake would seem an obvious place. She assumed
Charley’s team knew about it but it was hard to judge the size, let alone the depth, from where she was.

Not for the first time, Jessica was entranced by the sheer beauty of the view. At the far end of the gardens, there was farmland that dipped away, brown, yellow, orange and green fields
interspersed with hamlets and villages far into the distance. It was so different to what she was used to in Manchester. She had become so accustomed to the towering buildings, lashing rain, grey
skies and depressing sink estates that she had almost forgotten what it was like to live anywhere else. The view was a reminder of the type of place where she had grown up. When she was younger,
the fact everyone knew everyone else had been frustrating as it was hard to do much without her mother finding out. Away from the constant outpouring of emotion and influence Moses had on everyone,
the family-like atmosphere was something that suddenly appealed to her. It had been like that at the station at one point but staff cuts, fall-outs and DI Jason Reynolds leaving had diluted
things.

Glenn was pottering around the allotment area with a couple of the other people who hadn’t gone to market. Zipporah would surely have told him that Jessica was ill and he hadn’t come
looking for her. Jessica couldn’t remember the exact numbers but there couldn’t be more than ten people in the house, including Moses.

She already suspected it, but there was only one staircase to the middle floor. The second one, which had the door underneath, had either been blocked at some point, or was there for
decoration.

She did a quicker lap, only stopping to take in a wide double doorway, which she suspected led into Moses and Zipporah’s bedroom – assuming they shared the same room.

As she reached the bottom of the stairs, Jessica heard at least three male voices. She pressed against the wall, moving slowly until she realised they were coming from the games room. Inching
along, Jessica reached the open doorway, waiting until all three were talking at the same time before risking a peek around the frame. The cooks were there, standing around the snooker table,
chatting and laughing as if down their local with a round of bitter on the go. The biggest difference was the subject of their conversation. Jessica had no idea what lads talked about when they
were in a group but if Dave Rowlands was anything to go by, it was likely to be football, girls, beer, robots, or why some Star Wars film she hadn’t seen was better than another Star Wars
film she hadn’t seen. She doubted it would be how pleasant the gardens looked and how they were looking forward to trying a slightly different recipe that evening. She certainly didn’t
believe they would be standing around talking about their admiration for a man who had changed his name to match a biblical figure.

Jessica stood with her back to the wall, listening. Even with everything she had seen and heard since arriving, this felt like the strangest because they were in a near-empty house with no one
around to overhear. They could have talked about which of the females they most fancied, how the lush gardens were ripe for conversion into a sports pitch, or whatever else took their fancy.
Instead, they were still conforming to the ideals expected.

‘When’s the delivery this week?’ one of them asked.

‘Friday morning.’