Promise to Obey (18 page)

‘Well, well,’ said Jessica, suddenly feeling a lot better. She was not sure if it was the sherry or Lady Grace’s confidence in her. She had an idea.

‘You know all those Sunday paper glossy magazines? Have you got any of them around? I need a photograph of someone famous,’ she said.

‘Take what you want,’ said Lady Grace, finishing her sherry. ‘You’ll go?’

‘We’ll go,’ said Jessica. ‘I think it’s a brilliant idea.’

‘Well, thank goodness for that. You are doing something sensible at last.’

Jessica threw on a fleece. She explained to Lily and Daniel that there would be no story tonight, because she had to go out
suddenly
with Lucas. She explained that their grandmother would be in the house with Arthur, her swimming friend, the man they met at Roxy’s pool.

‘We could ask him when can we come over again?’ said Lily, not slow at seeing an opportunity.

‘I don’t think that is very polite,’ said Jessica.

Daniel rummaged through his drawing pad and opened a page. ‘Pool,’ he said.

It was a drawing of the pool, perfectly in perspective, even to the ripples on the water, and the robes hanging on the wall.

‘That’s lovely,’ said Jessica. ‘I think Arthur would like to see that.’

Daniel closed the page, saying nothing more.

Jessica strode into the kitchen, a batch of magazines under her arm. Lucas was eating cheese and biscuits at the kitchen table. He looked up.

Jessica was in fully fledged Boadicea mode, spear at the ready. ‘We going out,’ she said. ‘Finish what you are eating. Lady Grace says she can look after Daniel and Lily for a couple of hours, and she has a friend arriving to play bridge.’

‘I’ve had no supper,’ said Lucas.

‘Neither have I. Nor breakfast. Nor lunch. We are among the starving millions.’ She picked up her shoulder bag. ‘Shall we go in your car or mine?’

‘Where are we going?’

‘That inn of ill repute. The Double Cross Inn or whatever it’s called. You may know where it is, but I certainly don’t.’

‘My car.’

They never said a word as Lucas drove towards Brighton. Jessica leafed through the magazines. It was not easy. She hated reading in a moving vehicle. It made her feel sick. But she found what she wanted, several of them, which was a big relief.

The Double Cross Inn was on the outskirts of Brighton. It was partly an old pair of farm cottages knocked together, with a modern attachment. A stark building like a Travelodge had been built on at the back. There was plenty of parking space in a tarmac yard.

‘Bring back happy memories?’ said Lucas sarcastically.

‘Never seen it before,’ said Jessica.

The bar was ancient, very pleasant, lots of old brasses and farm implements on the walls. It was full of customers, sitting around at booths and odd tables. None of the wooden furniture matched. Jessica went straight up to the bar.

‘Can we see the manager please?’ she asked.

‘I am the manager.’

He was a sturdy man, grey-haired, worn out by years of pulling pints, his skin pitted with acne. ‘Can I help you?’

‘We’d like to ask you a few questions.’

‘I’m a bit busy. But later on, when my help arrives. Do you want a drink?’

‘A glass of house red, please,’ said Jessica. ‘And half a lager.’

She waited while the drinks were pulled. Even the wine was from a box. She paid for them.

‘Why is this inn called the Double Cross Inn?’ she asked.

‘Because highwaymen were hanged here. Two at a time.’

Jessica shuddered. ‘Happy times.’

She took the drinks over to Lucas. He was sitting at a rickety table with uneven legs. He looked ill at ease, brow furrowed. ‘Why are we here?’ he asked, taking the glass without a word. He folded a beer mat in half and put it under the shorter leg.

‘Because I am going to prove to you that I have never been
here before, with or without a companion.’

‘I suppose you’ve bribed the manager. Slipped him a couple of twenties.’

‘It was fifties actually.’

‘Makes sense.’

‘It makes no sense at all,’ said Jessica.

It was half an hour before the manager came over to their table. It was an uneasy thirty minutes when they hardly spoke, sipped their drinks, looked everywhere but at each other. The inn was busy and the noise drowned their silence.

Jessica had turned down the corners of the magazine pages she was going to show the manager. She let Lucas open the conversation.

‘My name is Lucas Coleman,’ he began. ‘There has been a slight family disagreement which we are hoping you can resolve.’

Slight family disagreement. Jessica almost choked on his words but managed to contain her irritation.

‘Nice to meet you, Mr Coleman. Jeff Draper’s the name.’

‘Mr Draper, thank you for your time. We have information that this lady,’ Lucas went on, hardly looking at Jessica, ‘stayed at your inn for two nights this week, probably in the Travelodge. She stayed with Dr Fraser Burton.’

Jeff Draper looked at Jessica. ‘I don’t rightly know,’ he said. ‘We get so many people at the lodge, coming and going. You see, it’s convenient for Brighton. I can’t keep track of them all. I’d better go get the hotel register and we’ll have a look.’

The manager returned with a red leather-bound book under his arm, and opened it out on the table. There was hardly room for it on the small table. The page was crammed with dated entries, names, car registration numbers, home addresses, some
readable, some unreadable.

‘And that’s only today,’ he said. ‘It’s been busy.’ He flicked a couple of pages back.

‘That’s yesterday’s and the day before … hold on, we’re missing a page.’ He did some quick checking. ‘Well I never, there’s a page missing.’

Lucas took the sheet out of his brief case. ‘Is this the missing page?’

The manager took it from Lucas. Now it was Jeff Draper’s turn to look annoyed. It was clearly a page from his register, same lists of information. ‘I have to ask you where you got this page, Mr Coleman. I’m sure it is an offence to remove anything from a hotel register.’

‘Be assured, I didn’t do it. The sheet was faxed to me yesterday, to my … office.’ Lucas almost said ‘surgery’. ‘As you will see, Dr Fraser Burton signed in for two nights, there.’

‘Room fourteen,’ the manager confirmed. ‘I remember it now. It was pretty late at night and he seemed in a hurry. They didn’t have much luggage, just a bag between them.’

‘And who was with him?’

‘I believe it was his wife.’

‘Did she sign the register?’

‘No. We don’t usually ask questions of that nature. We assumed it was his wife. I think he signed for her, put ditto marks. Yes, here are the ditto marks under car registration, address, etc.’

‘But the name underneath his is my name,’ said Jessica. ‘Signed in my handwriting.’

The manager look mystified, out of his depth. ‘Really, I don’t know, miss. I know nothing about this.’

Jessica produced the glossy Sunday supplement magazines. ‘Would you kindly identify the woman in this photograph and this one?’ She turned a page. ‘And again on this page. Do you know who this is?’

‘Of course, I do, miss. Everyone knows who that is. That’s Posh Spice, the model who’s married to David Beckman. Always
getting their pictures in the papers, regular like. I think her name is Victoria.’

‘Does she look anything like the woman who booked in with Dr Burton? Do you recognize the hair, the black bobbed hair, with one side longer than the other?’

‘Now you mention it, miss, that lady did have funny hair, cut different lengths either side of her face. I thought it was a mistake and she ought to go and have it tidied up. She was quite a bit older than this smart Posh Spice, but the same hair.’

Jessica sank back in the chair, relief washing over her face. ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘The lady with Dr Burton was his wife, Amanda Burton. It wasn’t me at all.’

‘Nothing like you, miss, if you don’t mind me saying so. And she was in a right temper, demanding this and that and at that time of night. I told her there’s a hospitality tray in the room to suit everybody’s taste and I could do no more.’

Lucas was looking confused. ‘I don’t know what to think. But Jessica’s signature is on the next line.’

‘If you don’t mind me saying so, sir, it’s quite obvious to me. This page was torn out sometime, probably the next day, because there are more entries underneath. But it’s not the same page because it doesn’t have a ragged edge. It has a smooth edge. It’s a photocopy of my page. If you look at my register, you can see bits that were left behind, as if it was torn out in a hurry.’

‘That’s what Mrs Harris said,’ Jessica said triumphantly. ‘She said crooks often photocopied things and you could never tell the difference from the original. Except in this case, there should have been a tiny ragged edge where it was torn out..’

‘And where would he get your signature?’ Lucas’s voice was gruff now.

‘From the hospital. It’s in all the records. Nurses are always signing for things. He’d have no trouble looking in an old file. You should know that. He got my signature from somewhere, cut it out and put it over the ditto marks on the empty line below his signature, levelled it up, then photocopied it. No one
would be able to tell at first glance.’

‘And the credit card receipt is correct?’

Jeff Draper looked at it. ‘Yes, sir. Room fourteen for two nights. Perfectly correct. I believe they had some extras but they were paid for separately. Now, if you don’t mind, I have to get back to the bar. It’s getting crowded and my assistant is looking harassed. Big crowd just come in.’

‘I wonder if I could have another glass of your house red,’ said Jessica, throwing caution to the wind. She felt like celebrating.

‘Of course, miss.’

Jeff returned with a brimming glass. He was grinning. ‘On the house, miss.’ He was not daft. He’d worked it all out. He hoped the nice young lady would be happy now.

Lucas didn’t say much on the drive home, but he drove
carefully
, not taking any chances. It was dark now and the flashing headlights lit up the road ahead, catching the eyes of rabbits sitting on the wayside grass.

‘They are all going blind again,’ he said.

‘How sad. Poor things,’ said Jessica.

A fox dashed across the road, his bushy tail streaming fiery red. He leaped into a hedge and was safe, bounding across a low-lying Sussex field.

‘It’s the badgers I worry about,’ said Jessica. ‘They are such slow old things. They don’t stand a chance.’

‘I see a lot of dead badgers,’ said Lucas. ‘Road-kill. Coming home late.’

Jessica clutched the magazines to her chest. She felt she ought to cut out all the photographs of Victoria Beckham and pin them round her room. Posh Spice had saved her though she would never know about it in her Californian castle.

They came slowly up the drive to Upton Hall. There were lights on as if Lady Grace and Arthur were still playing bridge. Arthur’s car was parked neatly to one side.

Jessica got out of the car and went up the steps to the front
door. She turned round. Lucas was immobile at the wheel of his car, gripping the wheel.

‘I’ll say goodnight, Lucas. I don’t think we need say anything more. I’ll make sure that Lady Grace gets safely to bed. I’m sure you need a good night’s sleep.’

‘Jessica,’ Lucas began, hesitantly.

‘Tomorrow,’ said Jessica firmly. He had made her suffer. She was not ready to forgive him.

Lady Grace came out into the hall. She looked enquiringly at Jessica, dying to ask but good manners holding her back.

‘All sorted, done and dusted,’ said Jessica. ‘It wasn’t me at all staying at the Double Cross Inn. The manager recognized a look-alike photo of Fraser’s wife, Amanda Burton. And the hotel register had been skilfully photocopied with my signature on a line.’

‘That’s good. Now we can have some peace at last around here. Daniel and Lily are asleep. Bert kindly escorted me up the stairs in case I had trouble, but of course, I didn’t. I can manage the stairs quite well now.’

‘You’re a star,’ said Jessica. She was mentally exhausted. She didn’t want to talk any more. She wanted to sleep and sleep. But there was the nightly ritual to get through first. She was still employed at Upton Hall, for the time being.

‘And did my son apologize to you?’

‘No, not exactly. But he did stop biting my head off. I think it will take some time.’

‘That damned Coleman pride.’

‘He might get round to it,’ said Jessica.

‘He might be too late,’ said Lady Grace shrewdly.

Arthur followed her out into the hall. He was putting his coat on. ‘Time to hit the road. It’s been a lovely evening, Grace. I’ll beat you next time. Just out of practice,’ he chuckled.

‘Next week?’ Grace was not slow.

‘And swimming? Would it be convenient for you to bring Lady Grace and the children for a swim soon, Jessica? Roxy is
touring somewhere in the world. She won’t be home for at least three weeks.’

‘We’ll fix a date,’ Jessica promised. It all depended if she was still at Upton Hall. She wanted to work out her three months contract. Daniel and Lily were almost like her own children. But Lucas might have other ideas. Their marriage was definitely off. She couldn’t marry a man who didn’t trust her.

Jessica went into the kitchen, leaving Lady Grace to see her guest off the premises. She heard laughter coming from the porch which was a good sign. She heated some milk and laid a tray with two digestive biscuits. Lady Grace was capable of seeing herself to bed these days.

Lady Grace was sitting up in bed, her hair plaited, her face relaxed and composed.

‘So we both had a very satisfactory evening,’ she said.

‘So it seems,’ said Jessica, putting the tray on the bedside table. ‘Can I fetch you anything else?’

‘No, thank you, Jess. Do the usual locking up, please. We don’t want any intruders. Arthur suggested starting a bridge club for we old-timers. We’ve plenty of room here. Once a month, perhaps? What do you think, Jess?’

‘What a great idea,’ said Jessica. ‘Old friends. Couldn’t be better.’

‘Goodnight, Jess.’

‘Goodnight, Lady Grace.’

Jessica closed the door carefully. Daniel and Lily were both sleeping peacefully. Everything in Daniel’s room was lined in rows, as usual, different rows to those the night before. Lily had Floppy Ears in bed with her. Even he looked more at ease for once.

She checked her emails. There was an email from Daniel. It said: Don’t GO. The ‘G’ was the right way round for once, but she got the message.

Lucas had not appeared. She waited in the kitchen in case he came looking for a late supper, but there was no sign of him. That damned Coleman pride. What did Lady Grace mean by
that? Lucas or her husband?

Jessica opened the door to the refrigerator. She knew she ought to eat. She could not exist on her nerves. It was not
sensible
, but all she could swallow was some set vanilla yogurt. It slipped down without any effort.

Bridge parties and swimming. They were setting themselves up for fun ahead in the future months when she would not be here. Once Lady Grace was fit enough to drive, they could take themselves over to Roxy’s pool. They would not need Jessica any more. She could take up her post in Sheffield and try to forget them all.

But she knew that she would never forget them. She still loved Lucas. And she certainly loved the children. Mrs Harris was a good friend and Lady Grace had earned her affection. It was going to be hard to leave them all.

Jessica went through the usual routine of locking up and setting the alarms. She had cleared her name but the cost had been exorbitant. She had lost Lucas and he was the only man in the world for her.

There were murderous feelings in her heart that night as she went to bed. The Burtons had ruined her life. If either of them ever showed their faces again at Upton Hall, it would be hard to stop herself taking a kitchen knife to them both. She could not understand why they were both so evil-minded. They had good jobs, excellent salaries, plenty of money to spend. But they didn’t have happiness.

Perhaps that was the answer.