Dangerous Promises (18 page)

Mona smiled at her. ‘In that pub, remember? The one on the South Bank.’

Sadie’s gaze flew between the two of them. Mona, she noticed, appeared different to when they’d met on the train. Her spiky black hair had been smoothed down and the bright red lipstick replaced by a more subtle shade of pink. Instead of wearing black, she was dressed in a demure navy blue dress with a cream cardigan. ‘Was it?’

‘Yes, you were with Eddie and the two of you —’

But before Mona could embellish her imaginary tale, Sadie lurched forward on unsteady legs and made a dash for the kitchen. She felt like she was going to be sick. Leaning over the sink, she closed her eyes and clung tightly to the cool metal edge. Her throat contracted but only a thin dry retching sound came out.

Joel hurried in after her and placed an arm protectively around her shoulder. ‘What’s wrong? What’s the matter? Are you ill?’

Sadie’s lips parted and she tried to speak but couldn’t.

‘You look as white as a sheet,’ he said.

She felt hot and feverish. Quickly she ran the tap and splashed some cold water on her face. The nausea passed leaving in its wake a dull, ugly dread. She knew she had to pull herself together, try and stop herself from falling to pieces. ‘It’s nothing,’ she said. ‘I just… It must have been something I ate. I’m okay now. I’m fine.’

Joel passed her a tea towel. ‘You don’t look fine.’

Sadie dried off her face, glanced towards the living room and lowered her voice. ‘How… how long has she been here for?’

‘Not long. Only twenty minutes or so. She was at the front door when I got back.’ He paused and then added, ‘We’ve been having a chat. She seems nice.’

Sadie flinched at the word. Nice? He had no idea what he was talking about. And he had no idea either that her sudden desire to vomit had been a reaction to finding Mona Farrell in her living room. ‘I don’t understand what she’s doing here.’ And then, because that came out sounding petulant, she quickly continued, ‘I mean, I don’t know her that well. It’s not as though we’re best friends or anything. Why would she turn up out of the blue?’

He gave a shrug. ‘I think it’s like she said. She was just in the area. She’d heard about Eddie and wanted to make sure you were okay.’

And Sadie knew that if she was going to tell the truth, now was the time. If she didn’t, there would be no going back. ‘Joel,’ she began, ‘there’s something —’

But before she could even start to explain, Mona’s voice came from the doorway. ‘Are you all right, Sadie?’

Sadie glared back at her. ‘I’m fine.’

‘Are you sure? Is there anything I can do?’

Yes
, Sadie wanted to scream,
you can get out of my flat and leave me alone
. But instead she simply shook her head and muttered, ‘No, no I’m all right.’

‘Maybe we should leave this afternoon,’ Joel said. ‘I’m sure Mum won’t mind.’

It was only at that moment that Sadie remembered they were supposed to be going over to Joel’s parents’ house for his mother’s birthday celebrations. It was an event she hadn’t been looking forward to, even though she liked Frank and Emily Hunter. She knew that the local gossips would have been busy whispering about Eddie’s murder and didn’t relish the prospect of being the focus of their attention. On the other hand, if she didn’t attend, it might look like she had something to hide. ‘Of course we have to go,’ she said, feigning more enthusiasm than she actually felt. ‘It’s her birthday.’ And also, she thought, it would be a good excuse to get rid of Mona.

‘Oh, I should get off,’ Mona said. ‘I didn’t realise you had plans. I don’t want to be in the way.’

And Joel, forever polite, then said the last words Sadie wanted to hear. ‘You’re not. You should come along if you’ve nothing else to do.’

Sadie threw him a pleading look but it was already too late. The invitation had been made and couldn’t be withdrawn.

‘Are you sure?’ Mona asked. ‘I wouldn’t want to intrude.’

‘You wouldn’t be. Lots of people are coming. You’re more than welcome. Isn’t she, Sadie?’

Sadie, having been put on the spot, could hardly say no. ‘Yes,’ she mumbled. ‘Of course.’

‘Good. That’s settled then. We’ll all go together.’

‘I’d better get changed,’ Sadie said. ‘I won’t be long.’ She hurried out of the kitchen, her eyes briefly meeting Mona’s as she passed. There was, she thought, a gleam of triumph in them. With a sinking heart, she went through the living room and into the bedroom.

‘No, no, no,’ she muttered as she closed the door behind her. She sat down on the bed and put her head in her hands. Jesus, why had Joel had to do that? Why did he always have to be so damned pleasant? Now they were stuck with her for the whole afternoon. Mona Farrell was a loose cannon and God knows what she might come out with at the party.

There was still time to do something. Sadie stared towards the door, knowing that all she had to do was to open it and give Joel a shout. All she had to do was to sit him down and explain. Except she didn’t have any evidence, nothing solid at least. The story was so strange, so bizarre, that he might end up thinking that
she
was the one who had lost her marbles. It wasn’t as if Mona had actually confessed. What if the girl was just living out some delusional fantasy?

Sadie had to find out – and she had to find out fast.

23

Half an hour later, Sadie was in the front of the white van, squashed between Joel and Mona. She was sitting stiffly, trying not to let her left arm or leg touch Mona’s, but was still close enough to hear the other woman’s breathing and to smell the distinctive scent of Chanel No. 5.

As the van headed towards Shore Road, Sadie glanced down at the dress she had chosen, plain and grey and not especially flattering. She had spent ten minutes going through her wardrobe, dismissing her black cocktail frock as being too dramatic – wouldn’t it look like she was in mourning? – and all the brighter ones as being too frivolous. The grey, she hoped, would help her blend into the background.

While Joel made small talk, Sadie tried to figure out what she’d say to Mona once she got her on her own. Direct questions, she decided, no more beating around the bush. She had to know for sure what her involvement had been – if any – in Eddie’s death. It wasn’t the kind of conversation that she wanted to have at a birthday party, but then there wasn’t really a good time or place to broach the subject.

Sadie wished that she was somewhere else, anywhere else but stuck in this van with Mona Farrell. The girl gave her the creeps; she was weird and unnerving. And suddenly her head was full of
if onlys
again: if only she hadn’t gone to London, if only she hadn’t chosen Oaklands to stay at, if only she’d never met Nathan Stone.

‘So what’s your line of work?’ Joel was asking Mona.

‘I’m working in an antique shop at the moment, just a small one. It’s nothing much but I’m hoping to learn the trade, maybe have a place of my own one day. I’m doing night classes too in Art History.’

‘That’s interesting.’

‘Yes, I’m enjoying it.’

Sadie didn’t believe a word she was saying; none of it rang true. Mona was either a consummate liar or she’d already rehearsed her answers. Probably both. The girl was doing her best to ingratiate herself with Joel, to come across as perfectly normal when she was about as far from that condition as a person could be. A wave of panic flowed over her. What the hell was she doing? If Mona was a killer, then Joel could be in danger too. She’d never forgive herself if anything happened to him.

Sadie stared out through the windscreen, making a mental effort to stop her hands from clenching. If Mona had killed one man then what was to stop her from… But there was a part of her that still refused to believe it. Wasn’t it more likely that the girl was just unhinged, playing a weird psychological game? For some obscure reason Mona had latched on to her and wasn’t prepared to let go.

Five minutes later they drew up outside the large detached house on Shore Road. Already people were milling around the entrance, laughing and joking, kissing each other on the cheek and shaking hands. Usually, Sadie would have looked forward to a do like this but today she wished she was anywhere but here.

‘Are you sure this is okay?’ Mona asked. ‘I feel like I’m gatecrashing.’

‘It’s fine,’ Joel said. ‘Half the town’s going to be here. One more won’t make a difference.’

As soon as they stepped into the grand reception area, Joel’s mother swept across the room and embraced Sadie, making the point – should there be any doubters observing – that she for one believed wholeheartedly in her future daughter-in-law’s innocence when it came to Eddie Wise’s murder.

‘Hello, darling. It’s wonderful to see you. I’m so glad you could make it.’

‘Happy birthday, Emily.’

‘You’re looking lovely as always. How are you bearing up? Oh, poor you. It must be dreadful. You know we’re always here for you, don’t you? Just pick up the phone if ever you need anything.’

Emily Hunter was a kind, sociable woman in her mid-fifties, generous and open-hearted. Sadie knew that she meant well, but the effusive welcome only succeeded in drawing unwelcome attention. She could feel the eyes on her, the raised brows and the weighing-up stares. In a small town like Haverlea, gossip spread like wildfire. Speculation would be rife as to whether Sadie Wise had actually disposed of her husband.

Sadie, making an effort to smile, wondered if she appeared as nervous as she felt. ‘Thank you,’ she murmured. If it hadn’t been for Mona’s presence, it would have been easier to brazen it out, but she was worried about what the girl might say and to whom. And where was she now? By the time Sadie had disentangled herself from Emily’s embrace and Joel had taken her place, Mona had disappeared. She scanned the crowded room but there wasn’t any sign of her.

Worried, Sadie set off in search, but was intercepted by Frank Hunter before she’d taken more than a couple of steps.

‘Sadie,’ he said, putting a paternal arm around her shoulder. ‘How are you doing? Rotten business all this stuff with Eddie. I hope Joel’s taking good care of you.’

Sadie fought to maintain her shaky smile. Frank was a big, bluff, old-fashioned guy, the type who still believed that women were the weaker sex and that it was a man’s duty to protect them. ‘We’re surviving.’

‘Glad to hear it.’ He lowered his voice a fraction. ‘If you need a good solicitor, I’ve got a number you can have.’

‘I’m hoping I won’t need one.’

Frank pulled a face. ‘I hope so too, love, but sometimes the police get the wrong end of the stick, if you know what I mean, so it’s always smart to have a fallback position. You hear about all these miscarriages of justice, about innocent people spending years in prison and —’

‘Dad!’ Joel interrupted.

‘What?’

‘Sadie doesn’t need to hear this. She hasn’t done anything wrong and there won’t be any miscarriages of justice.’

‘I was only saying…’

‘Yes, I know what you were saying but there’s no need. It’s fine, okay? Everything’s fine.’

While this exchange was taking place, Sadie was aware of the people around them halting their own conversations and leaning in to listen. She had a sudden scary image of being led away in handcuffs, pleading her innocence while the crowd looked on.

‘So have the police been in touch again?’ Frank asked.

‘No,’ Sadie said. ‘Not since I promised not to leave the country.’

Frank gave her shoulder a squeeze. ‘Well, I’m sure it will be okay.’

‘It
will
be,’ Joel insisted.

Sadie turned to him and asked, ‘Have you seen —’ She only just stopped herself from saying Mona. ‘Do you know where Anne is?’

‘I think she’s gone to get a drink.’

‘Sounds like a plan. I’ll see if I can find her.’

Sadie squeezed her way through the crowd, saying fleeting hellos to people she passed but not stopping to talk to anyone. Her eyes darted left and right as she sought out the girl in the navy blue dress. A buffet had been laid out on a long table in the kitchen: cold meats, coleslaw, sausage rolls, sandwiches and plates full of cheese cubes and pineapple squares on sticks. To the right was another smaller table with bottles and glasses.

Sadie poured herself a large glass of wine – she was in desperate need of one – took a gulp and then looked around again. After a while she spotted Mona chatting to a middle-aged guy in the corner, a man she recognised as a journalist on the local rag. Royston, his name was, Peter Royston. Her heart missed a beat. She felt a tightening in her chest as she approached. What was Mona saying? What was she telling him?

She gave a vague nod towards the reporter before addressing Mona. ‘Here you are,’ she said brightly. ‘I’ve been looking for you.’ She put out a hand, intending to pat her on the arm, but then withdrew it again. Somehow she couldn’t bear the thought of touching her.

‘Sadie, isn’t it?’ asked Royston. ‘So sorry to hear about your troubles.’

Sadie gave him a thin smile. ‘Should my ears be burning?’

Royston was a plump oily man with an ingratiating manner. His cheeks were threaded with red veins and long strands of lank brown hair were ineffectively combed over a balding skull. ‘No, no,’ he insisted. ‘Not at all. I was just telling Anne here about the delights of Haverlea.’

‘I didn’t realise there was a fairground,’ Mona said. ‘We should go. I love the fair. Don’t you, Sadie? Don’t you just love it?’

‘It’s all right.’ Sadie glanced at her. There was something about her face, the tone of her voice and her body movements which suggested that if not already drunk she was certainly close to it. But how could she be? She’d only been here for ten minutes. Unless she’d had a few before turning up at the flat. Dutch courage perhaps… or something more like a habit? Sadie remembered the train and the faint smell of alcohol that had wafted off the girl.

‘The waltzers and the stalls and the candy floss. And is there a big wheel?’ Mona asked. ‘I like those.’

‘It’s not very big.’

Mona laughed. ‘Still, we should go. It would be fun. Why don’t we? Just the two of us. What do you think?’