Moonlight Bones (A DI Fenella Sallow Crime Thriller Book 9), page 31
"For what, luv?"
"Louise. I knew she lied to me about what happened to her that night she said she was at her aunt's place." Slowly, his hands rose and came together at his eye level. Then, they made a twisting motion as if wringing the neck of a bird. He looked around, his moist eyes shining. "She was next to die. It's a pity how things have turned out. Plum Cottage would have raised a pretty penny and funded my writing career for years."
Chapter 175
Although it was not yet dark, Fred parked his car in the lane and got frisky with Louise in the garden and again in the hallway of Plum Cottage, but it wasn't until the evening news broadcast that Louise let herself fully relax.
"So, they are charging Guy with three murders?" She lifted the lid on the pot holding the steak and kidney pudding. Steam rose in great white plumes. "And for the fire at Le Petit Toon Café."
She touched the scratches on her face and ran a hand over the fresh bites on her neck.
How many days since she had told Guy she was at her aunt's place?
How many hours since she had told him she took the trail by the popping stone?
How many minutes had passed since she told him that pack of lies?
She'd been with Fred that night. Under the pale moonlight, making savage love beneath the bushes by the lane. He tore the sleeve of her blue Burberry jacket in his frantic desire. And she was certain, after Fred's belly was full of pie, he'd want more than Bakewell tart for dessert.
She smiled. Yes, she wanted this new life, had it now and would never let it go.
Fred relaxed at the kitchen table, his cheeks pink, voice wild with joy. "The judge will cream Guy when it gets to court. Send him down for donkey's years."
Louise placed the lid back on the pot. Almost done. "Gosh, he made such a fool of me. I felt like a zombie these past few years, listening to Guy's dreams and watching him blow hot air. A living nightmare."
"We are free of him now, Louise." Fred's eyelids lowered and he licked his lips. "Free to live life on our terms. Free to travel together, dine in top-class restaurants. Free to enjoy the finer trinkets of life."
"Any other woman would have wept, but I won't give him that pleasure." Louise moved away from the stove, placing her hands on her hips. "There is only one man in my life. One man who can fill the hole in my heart."
"We got what we wanted, Louise; we've got each other." Fred blew a lusty kiss. "Do you love me?"
"Need you ask?" She loved Fred and she loved his job and she loved the money it would provide now that her inheritance was all but gone. And because she was carrying his child, she loved him even more. "My Miracle Daddy."
"Then you shall show me the depths of your love when we retire to the bedroom."
Louise giggled. Yes, she was actually living a new life. The life she'd always wanted. The life she deserved. A worry-free life with a man who made a ton of money. A professional man with a prestigious private law practice and an office in Carlisle. Was it really only today that she finally broke free from the shackles of a screenwriting loser?
Fred's job and fat wallet made her feel…safe. Safer than she ever imagined. She'd tell him soon. About the inheritance running out; about the missed payments on the second mortgage on Plum Cottage; about the mountain of unpaid bills.
Not yet, though.
Tonight was about rejoicing.
Tonight was about wild love.
Fred laughed, a swarm of joyful cackles. "Clack-clang goes the prison doors, and good riddance to the creep."
When Fred started on a thing, he beat it to dust. Louise thought that was odd; she always moved on; always forgot. Guy was already a fading shadow; soon, he'd be a distant memory, a remnant of her forgotten past. But Fred? He clung on to old memories, wringing them for all they were worth.
I must make allowances. Don't all men have their quirks?
She offered a warm smile. "Let's not talk about Guy."
"I hope the crook drowns in his sorrows."
"I've moved on."
"And every day behind bars is a fresh hell for the rat."
"Stop it."
"Guy Bertram is a giant waste of life."
"Please stop it."
"Worse than a nasty toilet stain that clings on despite the bleach."
Louise wanted to scream. Instead, she slipped a bowl of broccoli into the microwave, keeping her back to Fred and saying nothing.
Fred gasped. "Please don't do that."
That stopped Louise. She turned. "What?"
"Lightly steamed on the stove is the only way to cook broccoli. Anything else destroys its delicate flavour. We don't want to eat mush, do we?"
Louise looked at Fred and she looked at the microwave and she looked at the bowl twirling inside. The microwave pinged.
"Too late." Louise giggled, a playful sound with a hint of bird twitter. "It is done."
"Throw it away."
Louise hesitated. She thought of her dwindling inheritance and she thought of Fred's posh business and she thought of the child growing in her belly. She took the bowl to the dustbin and tossed it.
She giggled again, this time forcing her lips up at the edges. "I can't stand microwaved food either. I hate the stuff, choke on it with every bite. Pure evil, isn't it?"
Fred's eyes became very small, and he stared as if she were the devil. "We don't make homemade meals in the microwave, do we?"
"No, Fred. No." She was giggling again. Forcing it this time. Really forcing it. "A silly mistake because I'm dizzy with joy."
Fred looked doubtful. "Did you feed Guy food zapped in that thing?"
"He did the cooking."
"Good God! I hope you don't expect that of me."
"What? No, no — Fred, no, no, no. I'd never let a man of your status sully himself at the stove."
Chapter 176
Louise didn't like cooking.
Worst of all, she hated washing dishes.
Tomorrow she'd see about getting a housekeeper. A lawyer of Fred's calibre deserved a servant or two, and it would lift the burden of domestic chores from her shoulders. Then she would bring up moving into a bigger house. A mansion with lots of land on the outskirts of the village. The women at the country club would be green with envy. Oh, and there was the credit card; she'd ask him to add her name to his account in the morning so she could go shopping and then there was the…
Fred was talking, his voice soft and low. "No more secret meetings in cafés in Newcastle. No need for burner phones. No more disguises and dark sunglasses. A wee bit over the top."
"You didn't know Guy." Louise gritted her teeth and hissed out a breath. "Didn't know what he was capable of. I always thought he was a bit touched, but what he has done is nothing short of pure evil."
She took off her wedding ring and placed it on the kitchen counter. She didn't want to talk about Guy, didn't want to think about him. She'd toss his stuff in the morning and burn his bloody scripts.
Fred flashed a smile. "I'm so pleased our relationship is out in the open."
Louise grinned back. "I've never been so happy, love having you here all to myself. We were made for each other. My only regret is that it has taken this long. Now we can be with each other, have each other, forever."
"Only brought the one bag." Fred nodded to the side of the kitchen table. "And my briefcase."
"What about your other belongings?"
"Left them behind in the cottage."
"You'll bring them over later?"
He waved a hand. "Mere baubles of my old life. I want to make a fresh start. Out with the old and in with the new. Plum Cottage is our home now."
"What about your place?"
"It will go up for sale in a day or so."
"You are a fast worker." She pouted. "A very fast worker, and I like it."
"I start as I mean to go on."
"I hope you didn't forget your credit cards."
"Wallet, yes. Left my keys in the car."
Louise laughed and giggled and felt warm and cosy and very happy. "You've no idea how it lifts my heart to know I'll soon be a lawyer's wife."
Fred's gaze lingered on the suitcase and his beige doctor's style briefcase. "My old life has passed away. The road ahead will be rocky." He wandered to the briefcase, opened it and pulled out a toothbrush, black silk pyjamas, two plastic combs, a fountain pen and a dog-eared puzzle magazine. "I'm no hero, but I swear you won't regret supporting me as my wife."
"I'll put some broccoli on to steam, darling." She giggled all girly and high-pitched.
They talked of vegetables and why organic was worth the price. Then they were at the table, knives and forks in hand, with steaming plates of food.
Fred sipped wine. "This mashed potato is rather good. Did you make it from organic King Edwards and pasture raised full-fat cream?"
Louise didn't know. She was in too much of a hurry at the shop. "That's right."
He jabbed a fork at the salad. "Iceberg lettuce! I'm not eating that."
"I'm sorry, darling. That is all they had. I don't like it either."
Fred's gaze fell to the steak and kidney pudding. He lowered his head to the plate and sniffed. "Not bad. Looks nice." He lifted a forkful to his lips, sniffed again, and shovelled it into his mouth. He munched and his face changed. "It tastes…shop-brought. Is this pie shop-bought?"
"Farm fresh from the frozen food aisle."
"But I gave you great-grandmama's cookbook."
"I… err… treasure it, I do." Louise couldn't remember where she'd dumped it. "I've been rushed off my feet today with Guy and everything. I'm sorry, darling."
"I refuse to eat shop-bought." Fred pushed the plate away. "I hope the Bakewell tart is your creation."
"I'm sorry, but there wasn't enough time."
"Not enough time! We must make time for the important things. Aren't I important?"
"I'll put on the custard."
"Not from a tin, I take it?"
"A carton from the chilled food aisle."
Fred sniffed. "I need a cigarette."
"Thought you were giving them up."
He took a slug of wine. "I will, if you do."
"You want us to give up together?"
"It's not good for the baby."
Louise batted her eyelashes. "You know I need my guilty pleasures."
Fred opened his gold cigarette case and they smoked in the silence of the room.
Chapter 177
"I've been urging you to tell Guy for ages." Fred took a drag on his third cigarette. "For months and months, and now this!"
In truth, Louise couldn't make up her mind, but now she had. Thirty-eight was light years from twenty-eight and the men who cast a longing eye her way at Le Petit Toon Café were few and far between. Older than her by donkey's years with flab everywhere except their wallet. Fred wasn't a bad catch, considering.
"I wish all this had happened sooner. I wish I had told Guy. Forgive me?"
Fred blew her a kiss.
She stubbed out her cigarette and let out a long and contented sigh. "I stayed up that last Wednesday night we made love thinking about you. And saw someone moving about near the garden shed. It was Goose. I think he stole the cherry wood box then, and sold them to Ash Antiques."
"How do you know that for sure?"
Louise’s lips twitched in a secret smile. "A woman's intuition."
Fred grunted and nodded and grunted once more but said no more.
Louise couldn’t read the expression on his face and decided to keep talking. "Goose came here after they discovered the body by the Popping Stone."
"You never said." Fred tossed his butt into the ashtray, leaning slightly forward. "What did he want, more knives?"
"He ran away when the vicar came."
"Vicar Hume?"
"That's right."
"What the hell did the vicar want with you?"
"I told him about the baby. About us." She looked away. "I don't understand but I needed to…confess."
There was no point telling Fred about her fling with Wilfred Ash. She crossed her fingers, hoping that when the baby was born, there'd be no funny business over blood tests. She was certain Fred was the dad. Fifty-five per cent certain. Vicar Hume had closed his eyes and shook his head at this revelation.
She turned back and held Fred's gaze. "Vicar Hume told me to come clean with Guy. I couldn't do that, wasn't sure… that I was going to have the baby."
"But you decided to keep it?"
"Yes, and I told the vicar so."
She wanted the child and she wanted to be a mother and she wanted financial security from her man. Was there anything wrong with wanting those things? Was there anything wrong with fighting tooth and nail to make them happen? Was there anything wrong with choosing the ripest fruit left on the vine?
Fred grunted, not in annoyance, in acceptance. "And then you told me I was the father?"
"That's right."
"And if things had turned out differently?"
"How could they?" She laughed, dry and clipped and high-pitched. A ripple of knowing twitter with the smooth melody of a mockingbird. "I was always going to be your wife. Always going to have your child. You just didn't know it."
Louise hummed as she cleared away the plates. Then they ate shop-bought Bakewell tart with shop-bought custard.
Chapter 178
Fred put down his spoon. "Get on with the washing up. We don't want a sink full of dirty dishes lying around until the morning."
Louise staggered to her feet and slouched to the sink. She began to wash up.
"I've been thinking…" And she had. About her ex-boyfriend, Liam Finch, the road sweeper made good with computer hard drives. She turned away from the sink so she could watch Fred. "…that a wedding in Paris would be nice."
Fred's eyebrows shot up. His lips parted. His gasp was almost silent, his smile broad and wide. "A wonderful idea. They say it is a charming city."
"We could buy a flat over there." Louise kept a girly smile on her lips, although she watched him like a hawk. "Nothing fancy. Two bedrooms and a kitchen, living room and a study for your work. We'd want two bathrooms, too, wouldn't we? We'd pop over there on the weekends when you are free."
"Sounds marvellous, darling." Fred struck a match, lit two candles then flicked off the kitchen lights. "That's better, more romantic for our little discussion."
Louise crossed her fingers because it was harder to see his face in the semi-dark. "And we could buy another place in the south by the Mediterranean Sea. I hear it is lovely at this time of year."
Candlelight flickered across Fred's face. He stood, then sat, then bounced in the chair. "Yes, I love the idea."
Now Louise asked the question that burned at the back of her mind. "But can…err…we afford it?"
"We must. I…we need to get away from all of this…mess. A break in France is just what the doctor ordered. It's a wonder I didn't think of it. We must look into it at once."
Louise tilted her head back, laughing in a birdlike twitter. "Anything for you, my darling. Paris, the Mediterranean, anything."
Fred laughed. Hard and hearty and filled with thankful relief. "Love is such a mysterious thing. When two people love each other, neither age nor money matters."
Louise was nodding and grinning and rubbing her hands. "That's right. And you can't take the money with you when you die, so you might as well spend it here."
She turned back to wash the dishes. Tomorrow she would find a housekeeper and they'd book a posh hotel in London for their visit to Hatton Garden. She'd pick out a huge pink diamond for the engagement ring. And then she'd dig out that article she read on the Serengeti luxury safari. They'd do that next year and spend a week or two in an ultra-luxe water villa in the Maldives at Christmas.
She kept her hands in the warm water, facing away from Fred as she spoke. "Nothing else matters but our pure and solid love for each other."
"From now on call me Freddy."
"I love you, Freddy."
Louise drained the sink then tore off the necklace with the black beads and olive-wood crucifix. She didn't need it any more. She didn't need pictures of the Pope. She didn't need the soothing prayers of Vicar Hume. Her growing baby and Freddy were all she needed now. All she'd ever need.
"Whatever souls are made from…" She blew him a kiss."… our souls are made of the same thing. All we have is each other. All we have is our love."
Louise had read that somewhere but couldn't remember where. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered but she and Freddy and the wondrous years to come.
Fred spoke then, soft and cautious with a hint of sly. "Thinking of letting my hair grow."
"That would be nice."
"Long enough for a ponytail."
"Oh!"
"You don't mind, do you?"
"What! No, no-Freddy, no, no, no. I think it would…err… suit you. But I wonder how your clients would take it. You don't want to put people off. I mean, you are a family law solicitor and have a certain image to project. Tie and shirt and sharp suit and…err…short hair."
Fred laughed and waved a hand. "Don't worry about that, Honeybird."
Louise shivered. "What did you call me?"
"You don't mind, do you?"
"I…err…no…no…I…err…love it."
"You and me, Honeybird."
Louise said nothing.
Fred cleared his throat. The crescent whites of his eyes glittered in the pale candlelight. "There is one other matter we need to discuss."
His voice was so soft it barely carried to the sink. Something in his tone put Louise on instant alert.
She leaned forward, straining to see his full face through the dim light. "What, darling?"
His eyes drooped. In the dancing candlelight, he suddenly looked terribly old. "I'm giving up my law practice. Well, not giving it up exactly."
"What do you mean?"
"My business has gone under, and the bank has taken my house. I'm bankrupt. I've said my farewells to Mrs Raleigh. Tomorrow, they'll come for my car. Two men, both wearing shabby brown suits." Fred chuckled in relief. It was finally out. Finally over. "I parked in the lane. The keys are on the driver's seat to save any embarrassment. We'll pay for the wedding and everything else from your inheritance. When I get back on my feet, I'll pay it back. We'll be rich by then. I've been thinking about moving into a new career. Something to do with computers."
