The Detective's Secret (30 page)

‘For that train you just handed over.’ Jack picked up his pace. Clark was shorter than him, but he was walking fast.

‘Two six six.’

The length of the West Hill tunnel: 266.66 metres.

The signs were working.

Saturday, 26 October 2013

‘Please could I use your loo?’ Lulu Carr stood up when Liz Hunter returned with a tray of coffees.

‘By the kitchen, door on the left.’ Liz placed three white china mugs of coffee on the coffee table and pushed a plate of biscuits towards Stella. She sat in a chair matching Lulu’s on the other side of the balcony door. ‘Is your friend all right?’

‘She’s not my— She and Nicola Barwick have unfinished business.’ Stella accepted a biscuit and nibbled at it, reminded of Dale’s scones. The biscuits were not as nice. Aware of how odd Lulu’s behaviour must appear, she was tempted to tell Liz Hunter everything, but however annoying Lulu was, she wouldn’t betray her confidence.

‘It’s ridiculous that I can’t give her Nicola’s address. But she was adamant. I must tell
no
one
!’ Liz Hunter handed her a cup of coffee. ‘I can pass on a message for her though.’

‘I’m not sure that will—’

‘But hey, it’s so good that you turned up in person! Fancy you not realizing it was me when they told you at the office. Have to say, I’ve often wondered about you. I’ve missed you, Stella.’

Liz Hunter had always said what she felt. Stella hadn’t missed her or she would have seen her. Stella thought that Jack would agree about it being more than a coincidence. Whatever it was, she felt distinctly uncomfortable. She would do Liz an estimate and leave. Lulu would have to make do with leaving her number for Nicola Barwick.

‘I’m fine, thanks.’ Although Liz hadn’t asked how she was. ‘What about you?’ Stella enquired in a spray of crumbs.

‘Life’s been in turmoil. I’m coming out of a divorce.’ Liz gave a laugh as if she had made a joke.

‘So you haven’t lived here long?’ Stella took another nibble of the biscuit and bit the side of her cheek. She washed down the biscuit with lukewarm coffee. Where was Lulu?

‘I came back from Paris when Dad died two years ago to be nearer Mum. My brothers are here, but they’re worse than useless! Max never visits and although Rob manages the odd afternoon, he flops on the sofa and watches telly with her. At least he doesn’t bring his washing any more. I was sorry to read about your dad – he was a kind man.’

Stella had never thought of Terry in those terms and was interested that Liz had noticed.

‘Sorted!’ Lulu Carr was in the doorway, beaming at them both. Stella would underplay a visit to the loo rather than treat it as an accomplishment.

‘Tuck in.’ Liz waved at the coffee and biscuits. Stella remembered that it was typical of Liz not to ask questions. Right from when she had rescued Stella from a cupboard in their infant school, Liz Hunter had taken any crisis or unusual situation in her stride.

‘Actually I must dash,’ Lulu said. ‘I’ve had a text from my brother. He needs me!’

She blew them both kisses and was gone before Stella could gather herself and go with her. With growing unease she excused herself and went to the toilet.

Stella stood in the little cloakroom and considered the low-slung toilet. There was tiny corner sink from which hung a diminutive towel. The cistern wasn’t filling, but the tank was small, it had probably already done so.

The towel was soft and dry. A bar of lavender soap was wedged behind a squat mixer tap. Stella picked it up. It was tacky, not wet. Running water over her hands, she worked the soap to a lather. It slipped from her fingers and shot into the basin. She captured it and put it back behind the tap, then rinsed and dried her hands. The soap was now flecked with suds, and the towel was damp. Lulu wouldn’t go to the toilet without washing her hands. Whatever she was doing while she was out of the room, she hadn’t been near the toilet.

Liz was in the kitchen, washing up the mugs. ‘Another coffee? I’m having one.’ She flicked the kettle switch.

‘Yes, thanks.’ Stella would do the estimate and allocate an operator for Liz. Wendy would be right for her. She settled into a chair at the end of a long wooden table that was large enough to sit ten.

A tall blue Smeg fridge matched eggshell-blue units. A set of shelves was stacked with assorted mugs and plates, many with chipped rims. A collection of glass Kilner jars was grouped together on the fridge. The vibration of the motor would shift them incrementally and eventually they would fall. Stella decided against pointing this out. The fridge door was papered with neat rows of notes, takeaway menus and cards for different trades clamped by large magnets in primary colours. Apart from the top one, they were arranged with five items per row; Stella liked this. During the estimate she would photograph their precise positions so that after cleaning they could be put back accurately. Her phone buzzed.

‘Where are you?’ Her mother’s first question whenever she phoned Stella’s mobile.

‘At a friend’s.’ She doubted that would remember Liz.

‘A friend?’ Her mother sounded disbelieving.

‘A client,’ Stella said to put Suzie off.

‘I won’t keep you. Dale and I are going to Richmond Park again, he’s taking me in his lovely hire car.

‘That’s nice.’ A hired car would be more comfortable than her cleaning van, although Dale had said he thought it was ‘cool’.

‘Stella, just to say, make sure you’re in tonight, he’s got a surprise for you. Seven fifteen. I’ve left Terry’s key with Jackie.’

‘I’m not sure I can—’ Suzie had gone. Her mum knew she didn’t like surprises. Stella considered phoning back, but thought better of it; she would seem ungrateful and after all it could do no harm for Dale to go to Terry’s house. Terry had been his dad too. Belatedly she wondered how Suzie knew Stella went there in the evening.

Liz interrupted this thought. ‘How’s your mum doing?

Stella had intended to say Suzie was fine, that working at Clean Slate got her out of the house. Instead she told Liz all about how Suzie still behaved as if Terry was alive and how she’d upped sticks and gone to Australia. That Stella had gone to the airport and her mother wasn’t there, that she was still in Sydney. Finally Stella told her about Dale Heffernan. How he looked just liked Terry and that her mum hadn’t complained about Terry being a ‘wrong turning’ since Dale had arrived. This bit hadn’t occurred to Stella until she told Liz. She described how Dale had taken her mum on shopping trips to the West End, to posh restaurants and cooked for her. Suzie seemed to be having the time of her life. This too hadn’t occurred to Stella before. Drawing breath, Stella realised she hadn’t asked her mum where she was meant to be ‘in tonight’. She spent her evenings at Terry’s, but Suzie didn’t know that. Liz was talking.

‘Sounds like he’s bonding with his biological mum – with you both – it doesn’t always work out that way.’ Liz was ripping up basil leaves and scattering them over fanned slices of avocado, tomato and mozzarella on a plate. She presented food on the plate with care like Dale did.

Stella had drunk the second cup of coffee and eaten all the biscuits without noticing.

‘Rather strange for you, perhaps?’ She looked at Stella with concern.

‘I’ve hardly seen him. When he goes back to Australia, everything will get back to normal.’ When Dale Heffernan had gone, her mum would return to her job at Clean Slate. They would resume their trips to Richmond Park every other Sunday with fish and chip suppers on Thursdays.

She heard a sploshing. Stanley was drinking out of a dog’s bowl on a mat by the back door. Stella had forgotten about him. Liz had given him water. He caught her eye and, tail flapping, trotted over and put his paws on her knees. Stella stroked sodden fur back from his muzzle, drops of water dampening her trousers.

‘He can lie on this while we eat.’ Liz returned with a cushion from the front room and dropped it in the corner by the fridge. ‘Lie down.’ She invited him nicely.

Stanley approached the cushion, nosed it about, dragged it away from the fridge to the middle of the kitchen and climbed onto it. He flumped down and, heaving a sigh, went instantly to sleep.

Stella had assumed the food was for Liz and was about to say it was too early to eat, but her watch said it was five to one. They had been talking for three hours.

‘You’ve trained him well!’ Liz laid out tubs of olives and hummus, a plate of hot pitta bread and another of sliced meats. ‘Stanley! Lovely name.’

‘I’m minding him for a friend. Stanley was his father.’ Liz had told her about her husband and his affairs, how she had had it with the ‘sting of betrayal’. If she had stayed, Lulu could have joined in. Stella wasn’t ready to swap stories about the Mr Rights who went wrong. David had not been Mr Right. That morning she had ignored another text. She wondered how she could give Stanley back without meeting him or involving a third party.

‘Tuck in, Stell.’ Liz took two bottles of mineral water from the fridge, one still and one sparkling. No one but Jack and Jackie called her ‘Stell.’ Liz had been the first to do so.

‘Thanks.’ Stella picked up her knife and fork and unfolded one of the triangles of kitchen towel that did for napkins, relieved there was no fuss and formality.

‘He’s going to miss you. Any chance your friend might let you keep him?’

‘No chance. Stanley is attached to him.’

‘He’s attached to you, he’s fixed on your every move!’

Stanley wasn’t asleep. He was watching her. Without a dog to walk or think about, she would get more done, Stella reminded herself.

Stella scooted a helping of avocado salad onto her plate. She had first tasted avocado at the Hunter house. Liz’s mother had coaxed her.
‘Just a smidgin, love, you can’t dislike what you’ve never tried.’

Liz’s family didn’t call her dad a failed detective. Liz’s dad had said he wished all the police were like Terry, a ‘people-person’.

On the few occasions Stella had eaten avocado as an adult – generally at Jackie’s – she would think of Liz and wonder where she was.

Liz poured mineral water from the still bottle into Stella’s glass, a green tumbler dotted with air bubbles. Jack said imperfection was a sign of perfection. Liz hadn’t offered the sparkling bottle. She must have remembered that Stella hated fizzy drinks.

‘I’m sorry I wasn’t able to help your friend.’ Liz was tipping the leftovers into plastic boxes and stowed them in the fridge. Stella had completely forgotten about Lulu Carr, neither of them had referred to why Stella was there in the first place.

It was an hour and a half later and Stella was washing up the lunch things.

‘I did try to tell her.’ Stella didn’t say again that Lulu wasn’t a friend. She would have to explain about the case and Liz would think she was trying to be a detective like her dad and feel sorry for her.

‘I’ll drop Nicola a line and let you know what she says.’

‘Thanks.’

‘To be honest, Stell, I was cautious because, when she left Nicola made me swear to tell no one where she was staying. Very cloak and dagger.’

‘What do you mean?’ Stella rinsed the last bowl and fitted it into the draining rack. She knew why. She should level with Liz. Nicola Barwick had been involved with Rick Frost and, when he died, she had guessed Lulu had found out or that Frost had told her. She knew Lulu would want to see her. Stella saw suddenly that the floaty, feminine manner was a front. Lulu worked like a steel trap.

‘I don’t know Nicola well, we worked together. When I needed somewhere to rent, she offered here. A friend had died and she needed a change of scene.’

‘What did you mean by “cloak and dagger?” A detective, she probed deeper.

‘At work she was as cool as a cucumber, ahead of the game, but nice with it. One of the few you could trust. When I came to see the house, she was quite different – nervy, talking fast, she seemed hardly aware of me. She hustled me inside as if someone was out there watching her. When she gave me her forwarding address, she confessed that she was being hassled by an ex. I had to promise not to give it to anyone. I presumed her friends and relations knew. But then this man turned up asking for her and now you’ve come. Nicola doesn’t seem to have told anyone but me.’

‘What friend?’ Stella asked sharply. Stanley sat up.

‘A guy she’s known since they were kids – not the scary ex, I soon established that. He said they were only friends. He asked for Nicola’s address – so difficult when you have to refuse someone nice. He told me she had asked him to check I was OK and that he would handle anything I needed. He was the only person in touch with her. I’ve found out since that he was testing me to make sure I didn’t give away her address. I passed! To be honest I couldn’t have given it to him because at that point I’d managed to lose it!’ She dried the plates and put them back on the shelf. ‘He warned me not to trust anyone – even murderers are charming!’

‘He said that?’ Stella pulled off the rubber gloves, finger by finger. She wondered at the comparison.

‘He’s rather put me on alert.’ Liz laughed. ‘Little traffic goes down this road and, except at weekends, hardly anyone walks by, so I catch every footstep. At night, it’s as quiet as the graves over the road! My mum used to say I had a vivid imagination, you remember!’

‘Has this man been back?’ Mrs Hunter had told Stella she kept Liz’s feet on the ground. Stanley’s chest was pigeon-puffed, head back, ears pert as if he had heard something. The relaxed mood of lunch had gone.

‘Yes! I was coming to that.’ Liz rocked on her heels. ‘We’re seeing each other! Nothing serious. Justin – that’s his name – understands that after Gary I can’t rush into anything. Although between you and me, this time I don’t mind if I do! I’d joined one of those dating websites and what happens? I meet a guy without leaving the house!’

‘That’s great. What does he do?’ Stella’s mind raced. Was Nicola Barwick frightened of the same person as Rick Frost?

‘You sound like Dad, he used to quiz me about boyfriends!’ Liz was girlish. Not the girl Stella remembered, who had been cool-headed about boys, but more like the sort of girl Liz had little time for at school, who lost interest in talking to other girls when a boy she liked came over.