sitting on a sawhorse, her arms wrapped around her body, her shoulders hunched. Even from that distance, he could see that she was shivering even though a couple of big space heaters made the barn a tolerable temperature. Tony took his time walking towards her, trying not to show the level of his concern. The last thing she needed right now was the emotional complication of his feelings for her spilling out all over the place.
As he drew nearer, he could see a sheen of greasy sweat on her face. She tried visibly to get hold of herself and stop shaking. But her body betrayed her, trembling like a beaten dog. He sat down beside her and put his arm around her. They’d avoided any physical contact for a long time, both nervous of where it might take them. The intimacy that had once been second nature to them had been shattered by Michael and Lucy’s death and since then they’d been like a country riven by a civil war whose opposing sides don’t know how to rebuild diplomatic relations. Feeling her warmth against him after all this time filled him with a nostalgic sadness. He wished the embrace came from wanting, not needing that physical contact.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
‘This’ll pass,’ he said. He could feel the tremors passing from her body through his, smell the sharp acidity of her sweat. ‘Do you feel like going for a walk? The fresh air might help.’
Carol leaned her head against his shoulder. ‘It can’t be any worse than this. Give me a minute.’ She closed her eyes and shuddered. Then she pulled a grimy rag from her pocket and wiped her face. She managed a weak smile. ‘My mother would have a fit if she could see what I’ve become.’
Tony gave a strangled laugh. ‘That’s nothing to what my mother would say.’
Carol squeezed out a weak chuckle. ‘She never liked me.’ She forced herself to her feet, slightly unsteady. ‘Come on, then, if you’re coming. I warn you, though, that moor isn’t for the faint-hearted.’
He gave her a lopsided smile. ‘After this morning, you think I’m faint-hearted?’
‘Are you going off me?’ he teased, reaching over and pulling her into his arms. She could feel him stiffening against her thigh but right then, that wasn’t the only thing on her mind.
‘Don’t be silly. But this is totally shocking.’ She kissed him lightly on the nose. ‘Pay attention for a minute, Sam. Really. You won’t regret it. I’ll still be here.’ She squirmed away from him and reached for the tablet she kept by the bed. Her fingers danced over the screen till she found the alert that had stopped her in her tracks in the kitchen. ‘Look at this.’
Sighing, Sam propped himself up on one elbow. ‘I can’t believe there’s anything more exciting than what my cock has planned for you. OK, let me see it.’ He held out his hand like a banqueting Roman expecting the sweetmeats.
Stacey flicked his shoulder with her fingertips. There was a primness to her that would never enjoy his occasional vulgarity. There was no need, in her world, for crudeness of behaviour or speech. ‘You don’t deserve me.’ He poked his tongue out at her and she passed the tablet to him.
For a moment, he wasn’t quite sure what he was looking at. It was a computerised custody record from West Yorkshire Police, that much was obvious. Halifax cop shop. Drink driving. Why was Stacey so excited about a drink-driving arrest?
Then he saw the name and whistled softly. ‘Carol fucking Jordan.’ He checked the date and time. ‘This only happened last night. How the fuck do you get this stuff?’
Stacey shrugged, trying to look modest but failing. And why should she try? She was proud of her skills. She was, however, dimly aware that not everyone appreciated her sticky fingers all over their personal stuff. ‘It’s easy. I set up an alert on my system to trawl all my database access for any mentions of people or things I’m interested in.’
‘And
As he drew nearer, he could see a sheen of greasy sweat on her face. She tried visibly to get hold of herself and stop shaking. But her body betrayed her, trembling like a beaten dog. He sat down beside her and put his arm around her. They’d avoided any physical contact for a long time, both nervous of where it might take them. The intimacy that had once been second nature to them had been shattered by Michael and Lucy’s death and since then they’d been like a country riven by a civil war whose opposing sides don’t know how to rebuild diplomatic relations. Feeling her warmth against him after all this time filled him with a nostalgic sadness. He wished the embrace came from wanting, not needing that physical contact.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
‘This’ll pass,’ he said. He could feel the tremors passing from her body through his, smell the sharp acidity of her sweat. ‘Do you feel like going for a walk? The fresh air might help.’
Carol leaned her head against his shoulder. ‘It can’t be any worse than this. Give me a minute.’ She closed her eyes and shuddered. Then she pulled a grimy rag from her pocket and wiped her face. She managed a weak smile. ‘My mother would have a fit if she could see what I’ve become.’
Tony gave a strangled laugh. ‘That’s nothing to what my mother would say.’
Carol squeezed out a weak chuckle. ‘She never liked me.’ She forced herself to her feet, slightly unsteady. ‘Come on, then, if you’re coming. I warn you, though, that moor isn’t for the faint-hearted.’
He gave her a lopsided smile. ‘After this morning, you think I’m faint-hearted?’
‘Are you going off me?’ he teased, reaching over and pulling her into his arms. She could feel him stiffening against her thigh but right then, that wasn’t the only thing on her mind.
‘Don’t be silly. But this is totally shocking.’ She kissed him lightly on the nose. ‘Pay attention for a minute, Sam. Really. You won’t regret it. I’ll still be here.’ She squirmed away from him and reached for the tablet she kept by the bed. Her fingers danced over the screen till she found the alert that had stopped her in her tracks in the kitchen. ‘Look at this.’
Sighing, Sam propped himself up on one elbow. ‘I can’t believe there’s anything more exciting than what my cock has planned for you. OK, let me see it.’ He held out his hand like a banqueting Roman expecting the sweetmeats.
Stacey flicked his shoulder with her fingertips. There was a primness to her that would never enjoy his occasional vulgarity. There was no need, in her world, for crudeness of behaviour or speech. ‘You don’t deserve me.’ He poked his tongue out at her and she passed the tablet to him.
For a moment, he wasn’t quite sure what he was looking at. It was a computerised custody record from West Yorkshire Police, that much was obvious. Halifax cop shop. Drink driving. Why was Stacey so excited about a drink-driving arrest?
Then he saw the name and whistled softly. ‘Carol fucking Jordan.’ He checked the date and time. ‘This only happened last night. How the fuck do you get this stuff?’
Stacey shrugged, trying to look modest but failing. And why should she try? She was proud of her skills. She was, however, dimly aware that not everyone appreciated her sticky fingers all over their personal stuff. ‘It’s easy. I set up an alert on my system to trawl all my database access for any mentions of people or things I’m interested in.’
‘And
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