Chosen (22 page)

It was a week later when things changed. They'd eaten another of Monique's superb dinners, washed down with a bottle of red wine. Nash walked with Monique as she went to the spare room. Outside the door he took her hand and kissed it. ‘That's to say thank you for looking after me.'

The touch was like a tiny electric pulse between them. She turned to face him and they kissed. The spare bed remained unused. Theirs was a fierce mutual hunger that would not be easily satisfied.

Two days later Monique sat opposite him over breakfast. ‘Mike,' she began a little hesitantly, ‘I've made a decision.'

‘About us, do you mean?'

‘Partly; I'm going to live in France. I can't stay here any longer. Helmsdale has too many unhappy memories. My one regret is leaving you.' Her mouth twisted with pain. ‘That was tearing me apart. But something made me realize it was better for me to leave.'

‘What was it?'

‘You made love to me last night, and it was wonderful. But you called me Danny. You didn't even realize you'd done it.'

Nash wanted to protest.

‘No, Mike, my mind's made up. I'm leaving as soon as I can
make the arrangements. Maybe it could be different sometime. But there are too many ghosts here. For both of us.'

 

About eight months later, as Daniel Michael Canvey was being born, Nash's phone in Helmsdale CID rang. Apart from a spate of shoplifting and a minor act of vandalism there was nothing criminal going on.

Nash eyed the phone for a moment before picking up. Something told him his peace was about to be shattered.

‘Mike, Tom Pratt here. How busy are you?'

‘Not rushed off my feet, Tom, even the Westlea's quiet at the minute, although I reckon that won't last.'

‘Actually it's to do with the Westlea that I was ringing. Can you come over to Netherdale tomorrow morning? Something's come up that we need to deal with.'

Nash didn't regret answering the phone at the time. That came later.