to
stop someone making a false allegation.
Nina shook her head. It sounded logical enough when you
thought it through like that, but somehow her gut instinct was jumping up and
down again, telling her that a piece of the puzzle was still missing. The best
thing would be to stay here a few more days and get things sorted out before
she headed north again. Slowly, she walked through the house, trying to
remember being here as a child. But nothing came to mind. You couldn’t force
memories, she knew that; they had to come by themselves.
At five o’clock the doorbell rang. Sam stood there,
clutching a laptop, his face a mixture of exasperation and apology.
‘Nina, I’m sorry. I wanted to keep you company this evening
but I’m in court first thing and something new has come up – so I’ve got masses
of reading to do on the case before morning. I’ve brought you this; I thought
it might be useful now the police have taken John Moore’s laptop.’
Nina was touched. ‘Thanks, Sam, that’s kind of you. And don’t
worry. I have a gourmet microwave meal for one waiting in the fridge. I’ve decided
to stay on for a day or two anyway, till we know more.’
His face lit up. ‘Excellent. I’ll make us pizza tomorrow
night, shall I? I do a real mean pizza.’
Nina accepted, wondering if she was doing the right thing.
But you could have too much of your own company, and with all these vague
feelings and uncomfortable memories welling up it was better not to be alone
too much.
Chapter Seven
Claire’s story – Bedford
Nina’s third birthday was a big family event. Lily and Bill
came down from Edinburgh for a few days, so all four grandparents were there,
plus Robert’s Aunt Emily and the Wright cousins. Claire congratulated herself
on getting the whole family together for the first time since her wedding. That
was what families did, wasn’t it – they gathered under one roof and celebrated
the grandkids’ birthdays. And as Robert went out of his way to demonstrate to
the older generation what a brilliant father he was, the birthday party had
gone off rather well.
‘I see you’re making a go of it,’ said Lily, approval in her
voice.
They were washing up after the party. A dishwasher was high
on Claire’s wish list, especially as the Wrights spent more time in her home
than they did in their own. But Robert held the purse strings and as yet he
hadn’t considered it. Claire shivered, in spite of the hot dishwater. Robert
should open a joint account; it really bugged her that she had to ask for every
single thing. She was doing her best – she had lost weight and was genuinely
trying to take an interest in Rob’s hobbies and his work. Mind you, his only
hobby was going out with George Wright and heaven knows what the two of them
got up to. Robert barked at her every time she opened her mouth, too. It felt
as if she was the only one trying to save the marriage. Of course there could
be another reason for his crabbiness – maybe his property business was going
through a bad patch. That didn’t excuse the churlish behaviour, but it might be
a reason for it. People did let off steam on their nearest and dearest.
‘I’m doing my best, but it’s not easy, Mum,’ she said at
last. ‘Rob spends more time with George than he does with me. Sometimes I
wonder why he married me.’
‘That’s men for you,’ said Lily, hanging up her dish towel. ‘Maybe
if you made the place a bit more… modern? Welcoming?’
Frustration fizzed up inside Claire. ‘I’d like nothing
better but he won’t cough up for new stuff. All the furniture apart from what’s
here in the kitchen came from his Mum and Dad’s old place. I had nothing to say
about buying the house and now I have nothing to say about the furnishings. I
feel like a servant most of the time.’
‘Oh, don’t be so melodramatic,’ said Lily. ‘It’s good
quality stuff. Maybe you can replace it little by little.’
Claire shrugged.
stop someone making a false allegation.
Nina shook her head. It sounded logical enough when you
thought it through like that, but somehow her gut instinct was jumping up and
down again, telling her that a piece of the puzzle was still missing. The best
thing would be to stay here a few more days and get things sorted out before
she headed north again. Slowly, she walked through the house, trying to
remember being here as a child. But nothing came to mind. You couldn’t force
memories, she knew that; they had to come by themselves.
At five o’clock the doorbell rang. Sam stood there,
clutching a laptop, his face a mixture of exasperation and apology.
‘Nina, I’m sorry. I wanted to keep you company this evening
but I’m in court first thing and something new has come up – so I’ve got masses
of reading to do on the case before morning. I’ve brought you this; I thought
it might be useful now the police have taken John Moore’s laptop.’
Nina was touched. ‘Thanks, Sam, that’s kind of you. And don’t
worry. I have a gourmet microwave meal for one waiting in the fridge. I’ve decided
to stay on for a day or two anyway, till we know more.’
His face lit up. ‘Excellent. I’ll make us pizza tomorrow
night, shall I? I do a real mean pizza.’
Nina accepted, wondering if she was doing the right thing.
But you could have too much of your own company, and with all these vague
feelings and uncomfortable memories welling up it was better not to be alone
too much.
Chapter Seven
Claire’s story – Bedford
Nina’s third birthday was a big family event. Lily and Bill
came down from Edinburgh for a few days, so all four grandparents were there,
plus Robert’s Aunt Emily and the Wright cousins. Claire congratulated herself
on getting the whole family together for the first time since her wedding. That
was what families did, wasn’t it – they gathered under one roof and celebrated
the grandkids’ birthdays. And as Robert went out of his way to demonstrate to
the older generation what a brilliant father he was, the birthday party had
gone off rather well.
‘I see you’re making a go of it,’ said Lily, approval in her
voice.
They were washing up after the party. A dishwasher was high
on Claire’s wish list, especially as the Wrights spent more time in her home
than they did in their own. But Robert held the purse strings and as yet he
hadn’t considered it. Claire shivered, in spite of the hot dishwater. Robert
should open a joint account; it really bugged her that she had to ask for every
single thing. She was doing her best – she had lost weight and was genuinely
trying to take an interest in Rob’s hobbies and his work. Mind you, his only
hobby was going out with George Wright and heaven knows what the two of them
got up to. Robert barked at her every time she opened her mouth, too. It felt
as if she was the only one trying to save the marriage. Of course there could
be another reason for his crabbiness – maybe his property business was going
through a bad patch. That didn’t excuse the churlish behaviour, but it might be
a reason for it. People did let off steam on their nearest and dearest.
‘I’m doing my best, but it’s not easy, Mum,’ she said at
last. ‘Rob spends more time with George than he does with me. Sometimes I
wonder why he married me.’
‘That’s men for you,’ said Lily, hanging up her dish towel. ‘Maybe
if you made the place a bit more… modern? Welcoming?’
Frustration fizzed up inside Claire. ‘I’d like nothing
better but he won’t cough up for new stuff. All the furniture apart from what’s
here in the kitchen came from his Mum and Dad’s old place. I had nothing to say
about buying the house and now I have nothing to say about the furnishings. I
feel like a servant most of the time.’
‘Oh, don’t be so melodramatic,’ said Lily. ‘It’s good
quality stuff. Maybe you can replace it little by little.’
Claire shrugged.
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