DARK HOUSES a gripping detective thriller full of suspense by Helen H. Durrant

together.”
    “It’s not bricks and mortar that keeps relationships going, Stephen.”
    What was he not seeing?
    “I’m not sure. Let’s just wait and see,” she said.
    “Wait for what? What are we doing, Suzy? Are we a couple or not?”
    The look on Suzy’s face was evasive.
    “Of course we’re a couple, like we wanted.” She was twirling her blonde hair through her fingers, like she did whenever she was nervous. “But it’s early days. Maybe we should give things a bit longer. Make sure we’re doing the right thing.”
    “It feels right to me. I don’t see any point in waiting.”
    “Don’t push it, Stephen. I like things the way they are.”
    “We’re no longer married. Don’t you want to put that right?”
    She shrugged. “Is it that important? We’re happy enough. Why spoil it?”
    “Marriage won’t spoil anything. And I’d like things to be right. If we’re staying together, then we should make it official,” he said.
    “What would that achieve? I don’t see that it makes any difference if we’re married or not. We tried that once and it didn’t work. This is far better if you ask me.”
    “In what way better? I don’t understand why you want to hold back. If we got remarried it would put our relationship on a more secure footing.”
    “So you’re insecure.” She stood facing him, her hands on her hips. “Stephen, leave it. Things are fine. We’re fine and, more to the point, Matilda is happy.”
    “Okay. If that’s what you want.”
    “Yes it is.” There was an edge to her voice now.
    But he couldn’t leave it. Her attitude to their relationship bothered him. “So what am I to you? Simply a bolthole you make for when your parents get heavy? I get the impression you’re not really settling in Oldston.”
    If things got tough, like they had in the past, Suzy might walk away again. And this bothered him.
    “I came here first — remember! You are living in the house I rent! So you’ve got it wrong. This is where I’ve made my home. Do I say anything about missing Norfolk?”
    “No, but you’re not happy, are you? Not really.”
    “I’ve got a good job. I’m making friends and Matilda is certainly settled. What more do you want?”
    “Matilda is a child. She’d settle anywhere as long as we were with her. You don’t seem to be committed to this relationship. I’m looking for more than just a live-in lover,” he said.
    “Live-in lover . . . I rather like it,” she said. “It makes me feel naughty. I quite like having a man in my bed who’s not my husband. It’ll give me a certain kudos at work. What about you?”
    “It unsettles me, that’s what it does.”
    “Then get over it. We’re fine. I don’t know what else to say to convince you.”
    “If we did get married, it wouldn’t have to be a big affair. Just you, me and a couple of witnesses.”
    “Not now, Stephen.”
    Irritation was creeping back into her voice. Greco shook his head. Something was going on, and he’d no idea what it was.
    * * *
    Screaming and swearing, she stumbled through the club doorway, fell into the gutter and threw up. The bouncer shook his head and went back inside.
    “Bastard!” she shouted after him. “My stuff’s in there.”
    Moments later the bouncer reappeared and tossed her bag and a pair of high heels onto the pavement.
    She was young. Probably too young to be clubbing. The man watching from the shadows put her at about seventeen. She was skinny with long wavy blonde hair that flowed, dishevelled now, down her back and over her face.
    “Having trouble, love? You look cold. That dress doesn’t cover much.”
    “Get lost, perv.” She tried to stand but lurched forward onto him.
    “Steady on. You’ve had a skinful by the looks of it. Where are your friends?”
    “Dumped ’em. Stupid lot.” She pulled a sulky face, brushed her hair back and picked up her bag. “Need a taxi.”
    “I am a taxi,” the man said. He pointed to a car parked a few feet away.