Authors: Anna Jacobs
She started to smile at the woman behind the till, then frowned, recognising her and searching for a name. ‘Allie?’
At the same time the woman exclaimed, ‘Libby! It
is
you, isn’t it? Someone saw a light in Rose’s house and we wondered if they’d found the heir.’ She came out from behind the counter and gave Libby a hug. ‘You haven’t changed a bit!’
‘I think I’ve changed a lot. You have too. Wow, you look so capable and efficient.’
Allie grinned. ‘I’ve grown up. Pete and I took over this place from his mum and dad, who’ve retired to St Anne’s. Strange that we’ve both wound up in Top o’ the Hill, isn’t it?’
‘Amazing.’ She glanced round, wondering if Allie’s husband was there too.
‘Pete’s just gone to get supplies. I’ll introduce you next time.’ She stared at Libby’s hand, minus its wedding ring now, but with a band of paler skin where it had been. Then she looked at Libby’s face. ‘What happened to you?’
‘I … tangled with my ex.’ It was the best she could manage. ‘I’ve just left him. If a guy comes looking for me, balding and wearing his hair short all over, quite tall, with icy grey eyes, well, you haven’t seen me.’
‘That bad?’
She nodded. ‘But at least I got Ned out of it all. He’s four and a half.’ She smiled down at her son.
‘He’s about the same age as my Gabbi. She’s at the local playgroup. You must enrol Ned.’
‘I’m not sure he’ll leave me yet. He’s been through some difficult times as well.’
‘I’m sorry.’ Allie laid one hand on Libby’s shoulder, reminding her that her friend had always been a toucher.
Someone came in and stood nearby, obviously waiting for attention.
‘Got to go. Fresh fruit and veg down that side, frozen things at the far end. See you when you’ve finished your shopping.’ Allie turned to the newcomer. ‘Your special biscuits have arrived, Denise. How many packets do you want today?’
Libby filled her basket and went back to the checkout. ‘Look, it’s a bit hard for me to get out in the evenings, because I don’t have a babysitter, but if you’d like to come round one evening and have a chat over a glass of wine, it’d be nice to catch up.’
‘Love it. Early next week, perhaps? A girls’ night is exactly what I need.’
Libby turned to leave.
‘Just a minute.’ Allie came round the counter and pressed a business card into her hand. ‘If you need help,
any
sort of help, my husband’s a big guy. You’ve only to phone. We won’t let your ex beat you up again.’
Libby had to swallow hard, and she was so touched by this that tears welled in her eyes.
Allie gave her a wry smile. ‘You befriended me when I was a rebellious idiot child. You were such a good friend to me. And this village is still old-fashioned enough that people help one another if there’s need. I’ll spread the word about your ex.’
Libby could only nod and sniff back a tear. She was so used to managing on her own. ‘I’ve got Joss next door as well. He’s been a great help to me.’
‘He’s a bit reserved, our Mr Atherton, isn’t he? He occasionally goes for a drink in the pub with Pete and his friends, but he doesn’t say much about himself.’
‘He’s been very kind to me and Ned. He’s really good with kids.’
‘Perhaps he’s been getting over the accident. He used to limp really badly.’ She looked back at the checkout. ‘Have to get on.’ She turned to her next customer. ‘Sorry to keep you waiting. Libby’s an old friend who’s just moved back to the village. She’s Rose King’s granddaughter.’
The woman turned to beam and say, ‘I hope you’ll be happy here.’
The last thing Libby had expected was to see Allie running the shop. She looked so capable … and happy. Her voice had softened when she spoke about her husband.
What must it be like to …? Libby cut off that thought. No use pining over the past. It couldn’t be changed. She had to look to the future and build a happy new life for herself and Ned.
If Steven would let her. She couldn’t shake the thought that he’d come after them, if only out of spite. He certainly didn’t love either of them.
At Heathrow several people were standing in the big space where passengers were released back into the world. They were carrying big pieces of card with people’s names on them.
One, who didn’t have a card, stepped forward when he saw Joss. ‘Nice to see you again, Cousin Tom.’
Joss wondered if this was taking caution too far, but played along with it. ‘Nice to see you too, er, Frank. How’s the family?’
‘Great. Everyone’s looking forward to seeing you again.’ He led the way out at a fast pace, and unlocked an old hatchback in great need of a repaint.
Joss tossed his backpack on to the rear seat and got into the front. ‘Why the false names?’
‘Why not? It’s a game we play, though we usually choose names we detest to make a joke of it. Think yourself lucky I didn’t call you Aloysius.’
They were soon out of the airport car park and driving along the road.
‘Where are we going?’ Joss asked.
‘A small place near Amersham. You’ll get a thorough briefing and see if the work appeals, and we’ll see how you get on with the rest of the team.’
‘Sounds like a fun day. What’s your real name?’
‘You can call me Robert, if you like. I prefer it to Frank.’
Joss didn’t challenge him on that. Robert was clearly not his companion’s name, either.
The ‘small place’ was a huge detached house in the country, the sort usually inhabited by millionaires or sports stars. They approached it along a rear service road and parked round the back. Robert led the way inside, keying a number into a hooded pad by the door.
A woman looked up from cooking, a sharp knife in her hand.
Was that knife intentional or accidental? Joss wondered, noting the way she was holding it.
This all seemed rather like a spy movie, except that neither he nor Robert was good looking, and the woman was decidedly middle-aged.
Robert led the way to the front of the house, knocked on a door and, when invited to enter, gestured to Joss to go in. ‘See you later.’
Leon was waiting inside the room, looking as immaculately neat as always. The Police Superintendent who had been his own former boss had had enormous respect for Leon. As did Joss.
‘Sit down, Joss. Nice to see you walking properly again. How was the flight?’
‘Short and sweet.’
‘It didn’t trouble you to leave home at short notice?’
‘No. Though I have a new neighbour and I’m a bit concerned about her safety.’
‘Oh? Is that relationship likely to stop you working for us?’
‘It’s not a relationship. Libby’s recently run away from an abusive husband and has only been in the house for a couple of days. I’d better set up a support system for her in the village, so that she has someone to turn to for help if I’m not there.’
‘How did you come to know her?’
‘She’s the granddaughter of my former landlady and I’m a trustee for the legacy the old lady left her.’
‘The woman who left you the house?’
‘Yeah.’ He looked at Leon in puzzlement. Why this interest in his neighbour?
‘We like to know how our casual staff fit into their local communities, in case we have to ask them to take someone home for a day or two. Would that be a problem for you?’
‘No. I’d been intending to renovate the top floor and put in an en-suite bathroom. This’ll give me the impetus to do it.’
‘Took you a while to get over the accident, didn’t it? Not just physically.’
Joss shrugged. ‘I was due for a change anyway, I think. That seems obvious now. I was getting stale.’
They chatted for a long time, a seemingly innocuous conversation, the sort any friends might hold when they hadn’t seen one another for a while. But by the time an hour had passed, and they were on their second cups of coffee, Joss realised how much Leon had found out about him from his answers.
‘You’re good at it,’ he said.
‘What?’
‘Chatting to people and finding out about them. What else do you need to know about me? Just ask openly.’
Leon grinned. ‘Nothing much. I need to see you with some of my team, though, before we take the next step. Come and have lunch, then you can sit in on a briefing. We’ll get drunk together tonight and—’
‘I don’t get drunk. A couple of drinks is fine, but that’s as far as I go.’
‘That’s the right answer. I hope it’s true.’
‘It is.’
By the end of the evening, Joss felt wrung out. But he also felt sure that he could work with these men and women. It still wasn’t quite clear what the scope of the unit’s duties was. When he’d asked, Leon had just shrugged and said, ‘We do whatever’s needed to tidy up the messes other people make, sometimes people on our own side, sometimes those of our so-called allies.’
A couple of people excused themselves to go to bed and Joss couldn’t prevent a yawn.
Leon pushed his chair back. ‘I’m tired now. Robert’s booked you on the six pm plane tomorrow, Joss. He’ll spend the day equipping you with various … bits and pieces of technology.’
‘Technology?’
‘Surveillance gadgets, our own mobile phone, a few little things we find useful. Can you get those renovations to your house done quickly? If it’s all right with you, we’ll use your place as a staging post for people escaping from trouble. Just at first. We’ll see where we go from there.’
‘Fine by me.’
‘Oh, and keep your fitness level up. You never know when you’ll be needing it. Night, everyone.’
Joss nodded. He’d have kept fit anyway. He enjoyed exercise and feeling in control of his own body, even with the limitations he now had. He sighed happily as he went to bed in a cell-like room in the attic. He didn’t care what he did, as long as he had some purpose in life.
To his surprise, though, he amended that mentally a short time later. He was glad he’d be working for his country. As a uniformed police officer and later as a detective, he’d spent his working years so far in service to various local communities. He’d never been drawn to money-making as a
raison d’être
.
On the Friday, the postman came into the antiques centre with a bundle of letters and a couple of packages, dumping them as usual on the reception counter near the door. ‘There’s more mail every day.’
Emily grimaced. ‘Yes. And most of this will be junk mail we didn’t ask for. People are getting really cheeky about sending brochures and catalogues.’
‘We’ve all got to earn a bob or two.’ He turned and ambled out.
‘I’m not sure sending out advertising bumf is the best way,’ she muttered. ‘Just think of all the trees that are wasted to make brochures and catalogues that get chucked out straight away.’ She tossed a couple into the waste-paper basket which proved her point.
She sorted through the letters, stopping at one which had a logo she recognised on the envelope. The AR was very tastefully embossed but the sight of it always filled her with apprehension.
Dumping the other letters on the counter, she went through to the Old Barn, the big room at the back, glad no one was around today. She always felt better in here. Taking a deep breath, she tore the letter open, hoping desperately that it would bring good news.
But no, the letter was a formulaic message, saying simply that the adopted child had declined to meet her, now or in the future. There were no names, nothing to personalise the message. It might as well have been a damned circular.
She bent her head, fighting against tears.
When arms she recognised went round her, she turned and burrowed into Chad’s chest.
‘What is it?’
She thrust the crumpled letter into his hand. ‘What do you think?’
‘Oh, my darling.’
‘Why can’t she even give me a chance? I didn’t give her up for adoption, after all. She was stolen from me. When Leon told me she was still alive, I tried to persuade myself she’d be fine, that someone must have wanted her desperately to go to those lengths. But since then I need to see her. I just … need to.’
Still keeping an arm round her shoulders, he read the brief message from AR. ‘That settles it. All this working through faceless organisations is highly unsatisfactory. And you can’t ask Leon for help with a private matter, not one which would take up his scarce resources anyway.’
He frowned, thinking it through. ‘How do we know they even told her she was taken from you by a trick? Come to that, how do we know it’s she who replied? It could just as easily have been a husband or adoptive parent who’d intercepted the letter from AR, and was trying to keep you apart.’
His words echoed in the big room and suddenly light glowed in one corner of the high ceiling, a corner which sometimes felt as if it had a friendly spirit living here.
Toby’s voice sounded from the side of the room. ‘The light’s shining. She’s come to see you.’
Chad asked without turning his head, ‘Who’s come, Toby?’
‘The lady. I see her sometimes. She used to live here. She likes to help people.’
He’d spoken of this ghost before and everyone who lived at the old inn accepted the fact that something happened occasionally in this room, something beyond people’s normal experience, whether it was a giving of comfort or a reinforcement of a decision.
‘She thinks you should find the lost person.’ Toby’s voice echoed slightly. ‘She says the person wants to be found.’
Chad and Emily exchanged startled glances. How could he know that?
The light began to fade and Toby’s voice lost its echo. ‘Can I look round in here, please?’
‘Of course you can.’ Chad shook his head in bafflement. ‘You know, I didn’t really believe in ghosts till I came here. But I can’t deny there’s something, especially here or in the secret room. Besides, I don’t think Toby is capable of making up something like that.’
‘I’ve always believed in ghosts, or spirits, or whatever you like to call them. I see them sometimes. I hardly dare believe that Toby’s right about this, though, but … what if he is? What if someone really is trying to stop me meeting my daughter?’
‘I’ll get in touch with my friend Des and see if he can investigate for us. We’ll see what he can find out and then decide what to do. Now, let’s go and find something to eat. I’m hungry.’