A Question Of Identity Part 23

'Well, you can't and buying me stuff won't work so don't bother.'

'Han . . .'

Hannah flung herself across Cat suddenly, her arms tightening round her, and sobbed and sobbed, and Cat saw that it was the only thing she could do and all Hannah wanted, even if it did not and could not change what had happened, or the unfairness of it all.

I'm laughing. That's all. I heard it and I started to laugh. Not aloud. Inside. It all happens inside. Laughing like that, to myself, cracking up to myself inside, with a normal face, it has to be the best thing.

I always used to smile afterwards. I couldn't keep the grin off my face. I had to be careful with that one.

But laughing, I can do that inside and no one will ever know.

So tonight, I laughed until I had a pain in my belly.

Laughed and laughed and laughed.

Because what could be funnier? I ask you. 'Police today issued a statement . . . Police have charged . . . Police have charged . . . in connection with . . . Police have charged . . .

I'm in bits. I really am.

In bits.

Laughing.

Thirty-three.

'THERE'S A TUNA pie in the fridge for your supper, and cheese if you want to grate it on top, and the boys have got fish fingers '

'Karen . . .'

' and don't forget to stand over Harvey while he brushes his teeth or he won't.'

'Karen . . . have I looked after my sons for a night before? Have I?'

'Well, yes, only-'

'Or fed them, and fed myself, and watered that b.l.o.o.d.y plant . . . just go.'

'Right. I've rung Mum and she sounded all right.'

'She'll be fine, they've arrested someone, stop worrying.'

'Does that mean there won't be any police up there now?'

'I'd think so. If they've got him why would they waste resources public money and all that?'

'Just for peace of mind, I suppose. Listen, if she rings you '

'She won't, she'll ring you. She knows you're going to Topsham, doesn't she?'

'Oh yes, I've got a bagful of stuff from her for Shona and the baby. Just think . . . Mum's a great-granny!'

'You'll get caught up in traffic if you don't move. And watch the roads, they forecast black ice in the morning . . . Look, 'I'll ring your mother first thing.'

'That'd be kind, love, she'll appreciate it. She's very fond of you.'

Harry laughed. 'Yes, well . . .'

'No, she is. Right . . . thanks.' She leaned over and kissed him.

Harry pointed at the door.

'I'm gone,' Karen said.

Harry turned on the television, but the arrest of the electrician Matt Williams was yesterday's news and there was only a brief report that Williams had been remanded by Lafferton Magistrates until a later date, bail having been refused.

Harry marked up a couple of programmes and a film he wanted to watch later, then turned over to Sky Sports.

'Dad . . . can we go and see Nana?'

'No.'

'I want to see her.'

'Bradley, it's freezing cold out there, I'm not getting you and Harvey into the car and driving over now. You can see her tomorrow.'

'Can I ring her then? I really, really want to tell her about my double gold.'

'That's a better idea. She'll be chuffed. Does Harv want to speak to her as well?'

'Dunno.'

'Then go up and ask him!'

Bradley shot off.

'Rosemary, it's me. Just checking up on you, making sure you haven't got a party going on.'

'h.e.l.lo, Harry. n.o.body feels much like having a party round here yet. Still, very good news and very clever of the police force, wasn't it?'

'Too right. You'll sleep a lot easier. Have you been out?'

'I have. Mr Dyer walked with me round to the shops on the main road. He lives at number 6. We both wanted a few bits and bobs and it felt safer on the pavements, they never cleared them properly, you know, they're still quite treacherous.'

'I know, so you be careful. If you need anything getting and the weather hasn't improved give us a shout.'

'You're a good fellow. Has Karen gone?'

'Yes, all excited with a bagful of bootees. She'll be back tomorrow afternoon. Listen, there's someone else here who's overexcited. I've got to let Bradley have the phone now, he wants to tell you something. You take care now, Rosemary.'

Bradley s.n.a.t.c.hed the receiver and promptly dropped it. Harry could hear his mother-in-law's voice chattering away on the floor. He went to put the tea on.

He checked up on her again around ten o'clock.

'Is everything all right, Harry?'

'It is. Boys sound asleep and I'm just about to start watching the footie so I thought I'd make sure you were safe and sound first.'

'Have you heard from Karen?'

'Yes, got there safely. Is there anything you need?Are the police out there?'

'No, I don't think so, but then I haven't been outside to look, not in this weather. Anyway, I'm warm and comfortable and off to bed soon.'

'Have you got a hot-water bottle?'

'You're as bad as Karen. Yes, I have, and a hot drink and my book. Thank you for ringing though, Harry, I do appreciate it.'

'I know you do. Night-night, Rosemary. Sleep tight.'

'Goodnight, dear. G.o.d bless.'

She settled herself in bed with one of the three paperbacks she had still not read since getting them for Christmas. She had always used the library too but it was a bit far from here. When the community hall and sitting room were built, as they'd been promised and seen on the plans, maybe a library could be started in a small way for the residents here. She had plenty of books, others might have discards, relatives could bring some, and though it might be more of a swap system on a couple of shelves than a proper library it would serve. She kept a notepad and pen on her bedside table and she started to make a list of the sort of books people here might enjoy. Crime. Romance (nothing dirty). Anthologies. Cla.s.sics. She began to put down names too. P. D. James, Joanna Trollope, Katie Fforde, Ruth Rendell, Penelope Lively, Victoria Hislop . . .

She was well into her stride, remembering books she'd loved, wondering if this or that novel was out of print, adding 'Miss Read' hastily, then 'Nancy Mitford' and 'Denis Lehane' one of her own favourites but possibly a bit too raw for some.

Rosemary's stomach for crime fiction was surprisingly strong, though she found the dark Scandinavians a bit hard to take.

She was enjoying herself, and had just jotted down Daphne du Maurier when she heard a sound. Inside? No, outside. A cat? One had tried to sneak into her kitchen and resented being thrown out. Rosemary was allergic to cat fur and did not want to have days of sneezing and reddened eyes.

Then she heard something louder. Her heart jumped into her throat like a goldfish leaping out of a bowl, and then beat so loudly she could hear the blood pulsing in her ears.

Again. A little louder. Nearer. She thought someone must surely be trying to get in through the bedroom window, which was how . . .

No. The window was secure and the sound was coming not from there, but from the front hall. The front door.

She sat up in bed, clutching at the top sheet, not knowing if she should cry out or stay silent, get up or stay still.

She did not have many seconds in which she was still free to decide.

You can never be sure. You need to know that. You have to hammer it into your skull. You can never relax, never believe you're safe, never drop your guard.

Have to be careful. So careful. Have to go over everything and get rid if there's even a shadow of a doubt. Because if . . .

No. Doesn't bear thinking about.

Better to be sure.

Absolutely sure.

Better to be on the safe side.

Only thing is, I hate being in a rush. That way you make a stupid mistake, you slip up because you're in a panic, and I've never been in a panic, me, never once.

Not in a panic now.

But time's not exactly on my side, is it?

Thirty-four.

JUST BEFORE EIGHT the next morning, when the Fletcher boys were fighting on the stairs, the phone rang.

'Harvey?'

'Stop it. Stop IT. Mum, Bradley's kicking my shin, he's '

'Listen, Harvey, listen to me. Get your dad, now, it's really important.'

There was something in his mother's voice.

'Dad? Mum says it's really important.'

'For heaven's sake, I'm frying bacon, watching the toast . . . Go and get dressed, you two. Now.'

Harry took the phone.

'Listen, I've been trying to get Mum for the last half-hour and she isn't answering.'

'It's only just eight and it's Sat.u.r.day, stop fretting.'

'She's always up by seven, you know that, often much earlier. There's just no reply and I'm really worried.'

Harry sighed. 'She could be in the bath.'