Unravel a Crime - Tangle With Women (32 page)

Was that what Mel had been
waiting for? Oh God! Is that why she went back to her husband? Because he
didn’t make a move? Oh stop thinking about marriage. Why are you thinking of
marriage? Do you need it like a woman does? Yes, probably for the security it
gives!

And the job. Damn. What was it
that Nick at the employment agency had said? There were more candidates than
jobs. So if he left, and he couldn’t really do that until after the case was
over, would he readily get another job, permanent or temporary? A bird in hand
and all that, he reminded himself. On the other hand, something might again
turn up!

No, it was the case that made
this job special, and when that was over – there would be just the routine
humdrum of general litigation. Seen one case; seen ‘em all.

Oh shit. Why couldn’t his life
be normal?

His heart missed a beat as he
drew up to the House and stopped. The front door opened. It was Mel. Not the
happy mad Mel he knew, but a nervous, apprehensive girl. An ordinary girl.

“
Mel, what on earth”, he said
as he got out of the car.

“
Hello, Jonny I’m back.”

“
Back, I didn’t know that
there was a spare room any more.”

She smiled. “There isn’t. I’ve
come to see you.”

He felt his eyes involuntarily
shut. Oh no. Not another problem.

“
Right.” he said decisively,
and reached inside the Fiat for his bag. “Tell me all about it.”

Mel rushed into the kitchen
where she had prepared two mugs of coffee. Trevor came down the stairs.

“
Just going out, Jonny. The
house is yours. Martin’s away for the weekend. Back late.”

“
Trevor, did you…..”

“
Let her in?”

He nodded and left.

Mel carried the two mugs into
the lounge. She sat on the sofa, but Brakespeare sat opposite her. He didn’t
say anything, but waited for her to begin.

“
I’m sorry Jonny.”

“
For what?”

“
For leaving you without
saying goodbye.”

Brakespeare shrugged. “You had
your reasons.”

“
I don’t think so.”

“
What”

“
I don’t think so,” she
repeated.

“
Sorry.” Brakespeare shook his
head.

“
OK, let me explain. You and
me have something going, right?” Brakespeare noted that she used the present
tense.

“
You made me happy Jonny
Brakespeare. You made me feel a real woman again, not like that bastard husband
of mine, right?

“
If you say so.”

“
Oh, Jonny. Stop being the
lawyer. We rock man.”

Brakespeare smiled. There was
no use denying it. They rocked.

“
Only I didn’t realise that it
was you. That it was you who made me feel good. I thought that I got there just
by myself.”

“
I understand.”

“
No you don’t. I miss my kids.
I miss them like hell.”

“
I can appreciate that.” said
Brakespeare knowing how he felt about his own children.

“
So I thought, I’m a woman
again. I can go back to my husband; I can go back to my kids.” She stopped. Her
shoulders heaved and a series of gulps indicated that she was fighting tears.
Brakespeare moved over to the sofa and put his arms round her. She leaned
against him; just as Lisa had, only it felt totally different. A totally
different body. It was nice though. She was making him feel good. Power over
women? Perhaps he had something he hadn’t realised before. He’d married young,
as seemed the respectable thing to do, and had never thought of playing the
field. All his concentration had been on getting through University; of
qualifying; of practising; of marrying.

“
And.”

“
And it don’t work. He make me
feel just like shit again.”

Brakespeare began to cuddle
her.

“
You ain’t, aren’t shit, Mel.
You know that. I know that.”

“
That’s ‘cos we got something
going”.

Before he had chance to
respond, she sat up; took his head in her hands, and kissed him fully; her
tongue exploring his mouth.

“
Take me to bed, Jonny. Take
me to bed.” She moaned.

Then in a flash the old Mel
returned.

“
I’m back Jonny, I’m back!”
she grinned, and gave a whoop.

The funeral service was held
in Upton On Severn. The office was closed for the day so that all the staff
could attend; even Tracy’s spots seemed to have disappeared for the day.

Brakespeare escorted Lisa as
he had been asked to do, and drove her to the riverside town in the Fiat. She
was stunningly beautiful in a black suit and a broad black hat with a crumpled
velvet band. She was hiding her emotions with a calmness that made her even
more attractive, but Brakespeare’s thoughts were elsewhere.

What had he been doing to
agree to let Mel share his room? He knew what he had been doing; he had allowed
his lust to overrule his common sense. He loved Mel, not perhaps in the
romantic sense, so love was possibly the wrong word, but he was very fond of
her. He could hardly tell her to go away and lie in the bed that she had made
for herself in life.

Mel wanted a divorce; she
wanted to apply for custody of her children, and she had also made it clear
that she had wanted him. Now, at least for the time being, she had him. What
would his children say? What would his mother say!

“
Of course” he had replied
when Mel had asked him if she could stay in his room “for the time being.”

He had also replied “of
course” when she had asked if he would be back the next weekend. He had told
her to go and see another solicitor, as there was no way that he could or would
act for her. He also suggested that she really needed to look for a space of
her own.

Mel had agreed with him, but
not as convincingly as he had hoped.

So he had five problems
worrying him. Mel, the funeral, the case, his own life – and Lisa.

Did Lisa need to be a problem?

No, after all she had said
that she was going to resume her intended career as a barrister, and she would
have to go to London for that. Why she was flirting with him? Was it flirting,
or was it in his imagination? If she was flirting what was he going to do about
it – now that there was Mel again. Was he going to two time them both?

No, he couldn’t do that
without feeling guilty. Wimp!

“
Penny for them?” asked Lisa.

“
What. Oh, just thinking.”

“
Of what.”

“
Life, and the way it kicks
you in the teeth.”

“
I haven’t kicked you in the
teeth, have I.”

Well in a way she had, but he
couldn’t tell her that.

He turned to her briefly and
smiled. “Of course not.”

She put a hand on his thigh as
she smiled back.

The Church was on Old Street,
leading out of Upton. Brakespeare could tell where it was by the sheer number
of cars that lined the road.

“
I don’t think we can park on
this road.” Said Lisa. “Look there’s a turning ahead on the left ahead.”

Brakespeare drove past the
Church and turned as she had indicated. They both caught sight of the road sign
at the same time. Minge Lane.

Brakespeare looked quickly at
Lisa, to guage her reaction and she was looking at him. They both burst out
laughing at the same time.

“
Is that appropriate or
inappropriate?” asked Brakespeare. “A sort of female body parts version of
Lovers Lane!”

Lisa struggled to control
herself; tears coursing down her face. He found a space to park the car in the
lane, and they both sat there laughing hysterically for a few minutes. Any
tension that both had been experiencing quickly evaporated.

“
Oh, my make up” said Lisa,
pulling down the sun blind to look in the mirror. Opening the hand bag she was
carrying, she tried to repair the damage her tears had caused.

They both shook occasionally
as they tried to pull themselves together.

“
Come on, we’re going to be
late.”

They left the car and walked
back down Minge Lane, and round to the Church. They joined the queue of people
waiting to enter. There were one or two glances at them, but no-one seemed to
know who Lisa was. Brakespeare recognised several of the clients whose cases he
had taken over, and they exchanged nods of recognition. He also recognised at
least two County Court Judges, and a handful of barristers.

A teenage boy and girl were at
the door, acting as ushers and handing out the Form of Service. Both seemed to
recognise Lisa, but said nothing.

“
Gordon’s children” whispered
Lisa as they entered the church.

It was almost totally full.
“He was obviously very well respected”, said Brakespeare.

“
Oh, yes.” replied Lisa
emphatically.

“
And ends up with a funeral
next to Minge Lane.”

Lisa snorted with laughter
again, and Brakespeare followed. Heads turned; disapproving looks were given,
and whispers exchanged.

“
Let’s sit at the back.” Urged
Brakespeare, and they squeezed their way through the congregation to a space on
the far right of the row of pews.

Lisa daintily entered the pew
first and sat down. Brakespeare was about to sit next to her when he became
aware of a figure waving from the front. It was Mortimer. He was gesturing them
to a space three rows back from the front pew, which Brakespeare could see was
occupied by members of the firm’s staff.

“
No good,” he said to Lisa.
“We’ve been spotted, come on.” He led her back to the centre aisle, and
forward.

“
Hello both,“ said Mortimer
warmly. “can’t have you sitting in the rear stalls.” He indicated a space in
the pew. To get there they had to squeeze past someone who Brakespeare took to
be Mrs Mortimer, then Dick Ridley, and a very plain woman who was obviously his
wife, Mary. Both women looked disapproving, and avoided eye contact with Lisa.
They acknowledged Brakespeare with a gentle lowering of their eyelids.

As he sat next to her,
Brakespeare could tell that Lisa’s tension had returned, and he was glad that
he was between her and the disapproving women.

The pew in front of them was
occupied by people Brakespeare took to be members of the family, Breezie among
them. Sitting at the right of the front pew was a lady who Brakespeare assumed
must be Mrs Morrison, but who was chatting animatedly to the elderly lady next
to her. In profile he could see the resemblance to Breezie.

Suddenly she turned round to
see who was present. As her eyes caught Brakespeare and Lisa her face broke
into a smile, and she waved. Lisa offered a limp wave in response.

Brakespeare raised his
eyebrows at Lisa in a question. She nodded and shuddered.

At that moment the coffin
arrived at the door and the Church fell silent.

Lisa glanced up briefly to
look at the coffin, but throughout the remainder of the service remained with
head bowed, crying. When she stood up to mouth the words to the hymns,
Brakespeare could see that her cheeks were wet with tears. He took her hand and
squeezed it. There was no response.

In the front row Annette
Morrison seemed to be enjoying the whole proceedings; singing with gusto and
sitting bolt upright, paying attention to everything that the clergyman said.

For Brakespeare, only the
presence of Lisa lessened the ordeal. He had never met the man, knew little
about him, and for him the ceremony was a meaningless ritual. His thoughts
turned to Mel and his problem there.

Brakespeare was surprised that
Morrison was to be buried in a plot in the Churchyard. He thought that all
space in consecrated ground had long since disappeared, and that was why
cremation was the usual form of disposal of the body. From the third row of
pews, he and Lisa were among the first to fall into line as the coffin
processed down the aisle, but out in the churchyard they remained at the edge
of the crowd as the coffin was lowered into the grave. “I don’t want to watch”
Lisa had murmured. He suspected that what she meant was that she herself didn’t
want to be watched. She clung to his arm as the burial ceremony concluded,
looking steadfastly at the ground. There was an occasional shudder, but
otherwise she remained composed.

The crowd began to dissolve,
but to his horror Brakespeare noticed that Annette Morrison was standing with
the elderly lady on one side of the exit route to the lych gate, with Breezie
on the other, receiving the funeral guests.

Before he had the chance to
discuss with Lisa, whether or not now was the time to slip away by another
means, Mortimer appeared, with his wife in tow. He made no attempt to introduce
her to Brakespeare.

“
Good attendance.” was what he
said.