Next of Kin (22 page)

Chapter Eighteen

Woody was in the kitchen when Sarah got downstairs. She was still in her dressing gown and pyjamas, and was surprised to find him still there. Over the last few days he had been gone by the time she got up. Instinctively Sarah pulled her dressing gown tighter around her, not that he noticed, instead he was hunched over the counter by the kettle. As Sarah stepped into the room he swung round, startled by the sound of her footsteps on the tiles; he had something in his hands. It took Sarah a moment or two to realise what it was.

‘What are you doing?’ she said. ‘That’s my handbag.’

‘I thought we had already ascertained that what’s yours is mine. Or would you like me to prove it to you again?’

She reddened, feeling her stomach flutter with a horrible mix of fury and fear, and looked away.

Woody laughed. ‘I didn’t think so,’ he said, and then he tipped the contents of her bag out onto the kitchen table. ‘Where is your phone?’

Sarah shook her head. ‘Not in there. What do you want it for?’

‘Mine’s dead. Where is it?’

Sarah touched her dressing gown pocket; a reflex response. Woody grinned and held out his hand. ‘Here, give it to me. I just need to borrow it for a little while.’

‘But I need it with me in case anyone rings from the hospital. The woman said they would let me know when they were releasing Ryan’s body.’ Sarah’s voice crackled as she spoke.

Woody nodded and took the phone out of her hand. ‘I just need it for a day or two. You can have it back.’ He looked up, his gaze tracking round the kitchen.’ And you need to sort this place out. Clean up. Clean yourself up. You’re a mess. The house is a mess. What will people think?’

‘What people?’

‘We’ll have to have a funeral, people will be coming back here.’

‘What people?’ she repeated. Who was there left? She thought fleetingly of Josh and wondered if he was already on his way. She glanced at the phone now in Woody’s hand. It had taken all her will power to delete his message. There was no telling what Woody would do or say if he knew that Josh had her new number.

Instead of answering her question Woody thumbed through the menu on the phone. ‘Did you clear the call log on this?’ he asked.

Sarah looked at him; glassy eyed her expression in neutral. ‘I don’t even know what that means,’ she said.

He glanced up, presumably to see if she was lying and then Woody nodded. ‘Okay, well I’m keeping this for the moment,’ he said. ‘Look on it as a loan. You can have it back as soon as I’ve got mine sorted out.’

Sarah felt a flicker of panic. ‘But what if the hospital calls?’ she said. What if Josh called back?

‘I’ll let you know what they say.’ He slipped the phone into his jacket pocket. ‘And anyone else who rings up to give their condolences. You never know who might have got hold of your number. I’ll field them for you, so you don’t have to keep explaining what happened. I’ll pass on what we know so you don’t have to keep repeating it. Don’t keep having to get upset.’

It was a lie, they both knew it. He didn’t want her talking to anyone.

‘Please,’ Sarah said. ‘Don’t take it away. I need it.’

‘I’ll see you later.’ He stopped as he reached the door. ‘And we need to go shopping; there’s nothing in the cupboards.’

Sarah stared at him. What was this, some show of domestic bliss for the benefit of the Immigration services? Or whoever it was he was expecting to come round to offer their condolences?

‘I’ve been thinking,’ he said. ‘I think you should get yourself a new job?’

She stared at him.

‘You need a fresh start,’ he said.

Away from her friends, Sarah thought, but didn’t say. Away from the people who knew Josh and Ryan and remembered how she was before she got married. A fresh start, which would make things easier for him, not her.

‘That’s not going to happen. I like my job,’ Sarah said.

‘Write a list of what we need,’ he said as if Sarah hadn’t spoken. She hated the way he had said
we,
there was no we, only her and him. Sarah couldn’t remember a time when she had felt so alone.

‘I have to go to the bank,’ she said.

Woody grinned. ‘No need. I’ve got money. We’ll go when I get back. And get this place cleaned up. I’ll be back in a little while, there’s just something I need to sort out. And get dressed.’

When he got to the back door Woody paused and looked her up and down. ‘You look tired. You’re too thin. You need to take more care of yourself. I’m worried about you, Sarah. I don’t want you to end up like Ryan.’

She stared at him, the words stopping her dead in her tracks. ‘What is that supposed to mean?’ she demanded.

‘Oh come on, don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about. I didn’t want to say anything about it to the police, but I keep wondering about that night. At the pub? I know I told them that Ryan was okay but the truth was he had been depressed for weeks. We both know that. You know how he was. He couldn’t keep a job down from one week to the next, never had any money, no prospects, totally unreliable and I know he was gutted that you had ended up having to bail him out.’

Woody paused, and then sighed. ‘It doesn’t take a mind-reader to see where his mind was going, Sarah. He was drinking more, pissing away any money he had got. He told me over and over again that he felt like he had let you down.’

Sarah shivered. ‘Are you trying to tell me that Ryan killed himself?’

Woody lifted his hands in a gesture that implied anything was possible. ‘You were the one who told him that he was on his own, Sarah. No more help, no more bailing him out, remember? He told me all about it. And I think there’s a chance that he might have borrowed some more money. I just need to find out what the damage was. Ryan knew he’d let you down, Sarah. And he was depressed; a few drinks inside him and all he would talk about was how you’d be better off without him.’

‘No,’ Sarah hissed.’ No, that’s not true.’ She slumped down onto one of the chairs by the kitchen table trying to process what Woody had said. He had to be lying. Surely Ryan wouldn’t do anything so stupid. Surely. He must have known she would always be there for him whatever she said.

‘I won’t be long,’ Woody said, closing the door behind him – not that she noticed.

Sarah sat at the kitchen table for a long time after he left, listening to the clock tick-tick-ticking away the morning and thinking about what he had said. If Woody was right about Ryan surely she would have noticed it; seen it. He had seemed a bit subdued before the wedding, but she had put that down to the situation with the money and the beating. Afterwards he hadn’t maybe felt as close as before, but she had assumed it was because he felt guilty, not suicidal. He had been working on and off, and she thought he was okay.

She replayed the nights he had been in the kitchen planning jobs with Woody. He had seemed all right then. She couldn’t bear to think that he thought she really had abandoned him. Sarah closed her eyes tight, trying to stop her mind slipping away into the great black well of grief and pain that threatened. She had to do something, anything to give her some sense of control.

Glancing round she knew that Woody was right, the house was a mess. The kitchen was littered with the debris from days of eating out of packets, from not washing up, from not being able to think about anything other than Ryan and what it must have felt like to drown, imagining the cold water soaking into his clothes and pulling him down, down. Sarah couldn’t bear to think about it for longer than a few seconds but the thoughts crept up on her and came to her in her sleep. What would it be like not to have him in her life? Everything was falling to pieces.

Sarah glanced round the kitchen, seeing the place with fresh eyes. It was a mess. Josh had said he was coming round. She didn’t want him to see her or the house like this. The sound of his voice on the voice mail had been like heaven. Clearing the call log had been something she had done when she had deleted the message; she had done it without thinking, clearing all trace of him. And thank god she had. She had planned to call him or text him back but perhaps her silence was even more compelling. She just prayed that he didn’t try to ring again because then she knew Woody would want to know how he had got her number and if he had rung before, and she didn’t trust herself to lie twice.

When Sarah heard the knock on the door a few minutes later she almost jumped out of her skin. Her first thought was that it had to be Josh, but when she looked round it was Mrs Howard, her next door neighbour, peering in, her hand cupped round her face as she looked in through the glass.

‘Sarah?’

Sarah got to her feet and opened the door. ‘Hello.’

Mrs Howard’s eyes filled with tears and she bit her lip. ‘Oh, Sarah. I just wanted to say very how sorry I am about Ryan. It must be terrible for you. I only saw it in the paper last night or I’d have been round sooner. Why didn’t you come and tell me? You should have come round.’ The old lady paused long enough to pull a handkerchief out of her sleeve and dab her eyes. ‘Although I suppose you’d got other things on your mind.’ As she spoke she pushed a card into Sarah’s hand. ‘I remember him when he was just a little boy,’ the old lady began before tears cut her off.

Sarah felt her own lip begin to tremble, the tears pressing hard behind. ‘Thank you,’ she muttered. ‘I’d invite you in for tea but I don’t think that I’ve got any milk.’

‘That’s all right, dear. Do you want to borrow some?’

Sarah shook her head. ‘No, I’m fine, thank you. I’m going shopping later.’

Mrs Howard peered round the untidy kitchen. ‘It must be terrible for you. Your mum and dad and now Ryan. If there is anything I can do to help? Anything at all? Washing up – or a bit of ironing.’ She paused. ‘I really don’t mind.’

‘No, I’m fine. I’m just about to get dressed and make a start, but thank you for the offer.’

The old lady nodded. ‘If you’re sure. Thank goodness you’ve got Woody.’

Sarah managed a thin smile. ‘Thank you for coming round,’ she said, moving towards the door.

The old lady took the hint. ‘Well I won’t stop. I can see you’ve got things to be getting on with. You will let me know when the funeral is, won’t you?’ Mrs Howard hesitated to leave. ‘Actually, I was rather hoping to see Woody while I was here. Is he in? I just wondered how he got on. Did it help?’

‘Sorry, I’m not with you?’

‘He brought some things round for me to sign and witness the other day.’

Something about the way she said it piqued Sarah’s interest. ‘What sort of things?’

The old lady shifted her weight, obviously slightly uncomfortable. ‘I’m not sure to be honest. I suppose I should have read them really. They say that, don’t they? Read before you sign. But Woody said he was in a bit of a hurry and had to get them in, and he just needed me to sign and date them. You know, witness them.’

‘Them?’

Mrs Howard nodded. ‘There were quite a few. He said it was just a formality. I felt sorry for him; all those forms. And I didn’t like to pry.’

‘Can you remember what they were?’ Sarah asked, making the effort to smile. ‘Were they about his right to remain application?’

The old woman screwed her mouth up in an effort to concentrate. ‘I’m not sure. I mean, I’ve signed quite a few things for him since he moved in, but I’ve always thumbed through them before.’

‘And this time?’

‘Well, it was obvious he was in a bit of a hurry, so I didn’t bother. I think I had to witness one and sign some others.’

Sarah nodded, keeping the smile in place.

‘He said it was really important that I saw him signing the papers. Keep it all legal and above board, he said. He said he didn’t want there to be any problems over his signature. I mean you never know when it comes to legal things. Better safe than sorry.’ She smiled. ‘He is such a nice boy, you’re so lucky to have found him, Sarah. It must be such a weight off your mind having him around dealing with all those kind of things.’

Something dark shifted in Sarah’s head and she had a momentary flash of the sheet of paper she had found in Ryan’s jacket pocket, the page of signatures, with Woody’s name written over and over again. What if it wasn’t Ryan who had been practising the signatures, but Woody.

Sarah stared at her. ‘What kind of things were they?’

‘Official papers, forms; to be honest I’m not a hundred percent sure. Silly really.’

Sarah forced a smile. ‘Thank you for coming round, I’m really sorry but I need to be getting on, getting dressed.’

‘Of course.’

Ryan’s jacket was still upstairs in her bedroom where she had taken it off.

‘And tell Woody that I hope it helped.’

‘I will,’ Sarah said, feigning gratitude, wanting the old lady gone.

Mrs Howard stepped outside into the porch ‘Anyway, if there is anything you need. Any help, anything at all. All you have to do is ask. Have you got any idea when the funeral will be?’

Sarah shook her head. ‘No, not yet. I’m waiting for the hospital to ring.’

‘Oh yes, of course,’ said the old lady. ‘Well I better be off, but you know where I am.’

Sarah nodded.