The Language Of Spells Part 34

'I'll see what I can do,' Helen said suddenly. 'I'm sure Christopher will drop this nonsense when he realises I won't back him up.'

'I really appreciate it,' Gwen said carefully.

'He kicked my dog,' Helen snapped. 'It's nothing to do with you.'

'Right. Bye, then.' Gwen was halfway down the path when Helen called out, 'You should burn it all. But make sure everyone knows you've done it.' Then she raised her hand in a half-wave and shut the door.

Gwen got into Nanette and turned the heater up full. It wasn't a bad idea, actually. Holding a public bonfire might make her look like a lunatic, but appearing normal didn't seem to be on the cards any more. In for a penny ...

Back at home, Gwen looked up the number for The Chronicle on Ruby's second-best laptop and dialled. The helpful woman who answered the phone explained that Ryan was on his lunch break and, with minimal prompting, that he was taking it at The Red Lion. Twenty minutes later, Gwen walked into the pub. Both fires were blazing and Gwen, already warm from her speed-walk into town, pulled off her coat and scarf.

'All right, Gwennie?' Bob hailed her, then turned his attention back to the pint he was pulling. The place was packed and Gwen was surprised at just how many people she recognised. Stranger yet were the number of nods, smiles and greetings as she made her way to the back room.

Ryan was sitting on his own, his back to Gwen. She had no trouble recognising him, though, and complimented herself for her restraint in not slapping the back of his rosy-red neck. There was a spare chair at the little table and she sat down. Ryan looked up and did a double-take. 'Um-' he began, less than brilliantly.

'I'll be honest with you,' Gwen said, stealing one of Ryan's chips and pointing it at his chest. 'You're not my favourite person at the moment.'

'What?' Ryan seemed mesmerised by the chip, but he managed to drag his attention to Gwen's face. 'What do you want?'

'I want to put an advert in the paper but I'm broke, so I want you to write an article instead so it doesn't cost me anything.'

'And why would I do that?' Ryan said.

'Why wouldn't you? I thought this town was all about being neighbourly.' Gwen bit the chip. It was cold so she put the other half onto the edge of Ryan's plate. His gaze followed it and she said, 'Don't worry; I haven't got a cold or anything.'

Ryan looked her in the eye with what appeared to be some effort. 'I don't owe you any favours.'

'I was thinking more from the goodness of your heart,' Gwen said. 'Or, perhaps, to cleanse your soul a little after that unfortunate rabbit incident.' Suddenly the hurt and anger of that moment flooded back and Gwen leaned forward. 'My niece could've found that poor creature. Did you even think of that?'

'I didn't have anything to do with-' Ryan said quickly. Then he caught himself. 'I don't know what you're talking about.'

'Nice save.' Gwen selected a slice of cuc.u.mber from Ryan's side salad and gestured with it. 'Just run the piece.'

'Or what?' Ryan said, lifting his chin and trying to look tough.

Gwen fixed him with her best steely stare. 'Use your imagination,' she said, and popped the cuc.u.mber slice into her mouth.

'This is insane,' Ryan said. 'What did you want me to write about, anyway? The paper won't publish it if it isn't in the public interest.'

'It's as much in the public interest as that fascinating piece on Martin Bower's prize-winning cabbage.'

'Small town news, what do you expect?'

'It was on the front page, Ryan. Really.' Gwen shook her head. 'I'd say you should be thanking me for filling some column inches.'

'So, what is it? What's the big story?'

'I'm holding a bonfire.'

'You're a bit late for Guy Fawkes.'

Gwen ignored him. 'On the green outside here on Sat.u.r.day night.'

'You can't do that,' Ryan said. 'There are rules, by-laws, all kinds of permits.'

'I've cleared it with the council and the community council and with Bob in the pub. When I say bonfire, I'm being symbolic, really. It's more of a brazier.'

'A brazier.' Ryan frowned. 'What the h.e.l.l?'

'Bob is lending it to me. He uses it in the garden.'

'I don't really understand-'

'That's okay. Here are all the details.' Gwen put the article she'd carefully typed up that morning. 'I'd like it in Thursday's edition.' She pushed back her chair, the legs sc.r.a.ping on the stone floor.

'You can't just expect-' Ryan said and Gwen lost it. She leaned over the table, her face close to his and said, very quietly, 'Don't f.u.c.k with me, Ryan. I'm not known for my patience and I reached the bottom of the barrel a long time ago. I know you broke into my house.' Gwen was only guessing on that last point, but she figured that Lily didn't have too many friends to call on. Ryan swallowed and then nodded.

Gwen straightened up. 'Excellent. Thank you.'

Chapter 22.

Gwen was investigating the overgrown herbs in the garden when she heard the telephone. It was Harry, sounding less calm than usual. 'Are you busy? Can you get down to Cam's office?'

'What's wrong?' If another person was taking legal action ...

'It's Cam. Do you know about his granddad?'

Gwen went cold. 'What's happened?'

'He died last night. Cam found him.'

'Oh no.'

'Can you come?'

'Why don't you call Felicity?'

Harry didn't say anything. He just stayed silent long enough for Gwen to feel petty and stupid. 'Fine,' she said. 'I'll be there in ten minutes.'

'Thank you,' Harry said politely.

'Do you think he'll want me there?' Gwen asked quickly before Harry could hang up.

'Christ, Gwen. I don't know what he wants. He's trying to take out all the furniture in his office. It's built-in, though, so it's-' Harry broke off and Gwen heard a m.u.f.fled struggle. Harry came back on the line slightly out of breath. 'He's going to rupture something.'

Gwen got to the firm in time to see Elaine Laing putting on her coat in the reception area.

'I've sent Melissa home and I advise you to do the same. This is a family matter.'

'Where are you going?' Gwen said.

Elaine coloured slightly. 'There's no reasoning with him right now. It's best to just let him cool off.'

A crash sounded and Harry's face appeared in the doorway. 'Gwen! Hi-ya. Come and join the party.'

Elaine leaned in close, startling Gwen. 'If you breathe a word of this-' she began.

Gwen faced her. 'If you took the time to get to know me, you'd know how insulting that was. I'm just like my great-aunt and I'll take your secrets to the grave.'

Elaine took a step back as if Gwen had slapped her. 'You can't talk to me like-'

Gwen ignored her and went into Cam's office.

Cam was wearing a black T-shirt and smart trousers. His dark blue shirt and suit jacket were laid neatly over the back of his chair. He was uns.c.r.e.w.i.n.g the hinges from a cabinet hidden amongst the wood panelling.

'h.e.l.lo,' Gwen said. 'Have you been to bed yet?'

Cam glanced over his shoulder, then began pulling at the door. 'He died in his office, you know. I found him in his office. At his f.u.c.king desk.'

'I heard.' Gwen glanced at Harry, who made a face.

'My dad was buried with his whisky gla.s.s in one hand.' Cam heaved and the door popped free. 'That's what I used to say. It was a joke, but it wasn't very funny. I can't picture him without it. Sitting here, behind this desk, that b.l.o.o.d.y gla.s.s in his hand.'

'All right, mate,' Harry said. 'You want to put the door down?'

Cam looked at the piece of wood in his hand as if surprised to find it there. 'I just thought it was time for a change.'

'Have you slept yet?' Cam had found his grandfather just before midnight. He must've been up for over thirty-six hours and it showed.

'Too much to do,' Cam said. 'Busy.'

'Melissa called all your clients,' Harry said. 'You should go home and get some rest.'

'Can't.' Cam waved the cabinet door for emphasis. 'We're in trouble, you know. Got to show a united front. Got to show that Laing and Sons is strong and that we can provide a continued, unbroken service. Any sign of weakness not allowed. You know how it is.'

'Come back to mine,' Gwen said. 'I'll make you some food and you can take a nap. You can come back to work later, if you want.'

Cam turned his bloodshot eyes onto Gwen and seemed to see her properly for the first time.

She smiled encouragingly, gently. 'Come and rest. Regain your strength and you can get straight back to whatever it is you're doing.'

'I'm taking this out.' Cam gestured to the bottles and gla.s.ses arranged on shelves. 'Gotta move with the times. Be a dynamic, forward-thinking firm.' A look of anguish crossed his face.

'Absolutely.' Gwen nodded. 'Tell me about it on the way, okay?'

Harry was parked right outside in an unmarked car. He drove them to End House, Cam staring and silent.

Later, after Gwen had convinced Cam to eat some b.u.t.tered toast and drink a mug of tea, he asked if he could stay.

'Of course.'

'This is so stupid,' he said finally. 'I wasn't like this when my dad died.' Gwen turned her back while he shed some clothes and got into bed.

Gwen sat on the edge of the bed. 'What was your dad like? You never talk about him.'

'When he died I was so angry.' Cam closed his eyes. 'So f.u.c.king angry. I don't even remember feeling sad. That's not good, is it? That's not right.'

'I don't-'

'I mean, I was sad, but it was just overlaid with all the other stuff. I knew that it was the end of my life. Him dying.' Cam gave a short laugh. 'That sounds a bit dramatic, but I knew that was it. No more choices. No more music. No more London.'

'Is that when you decided to study law?'

'Decided isn't the word.' Cam gave her a wry smile. 'That's when I felt the heavy sword of family obligation fall squarely on my head. I knew I had to take up Dad's place. I'd always known it would happen eventually, but I thought I'd have more time or that something would happen to change things. I don't know.'

'It's understandable that you were angry. You felt trapped.'

Cam looked at her. 'I was trapped. And I hated him for it.'

Gwen reached for his hand, squeezed tightly. She knew how it felt to inherit stuff you didn't ask for or want. She knew that trapped feeling all too well. 'You should be proud of yourself. You stepped up and looked after your family. And if you hate it now, perhaps...'

Cam blinked. 'Thank you for this,' he said. He ran his hand over his face and looked at his wet hand with surprise. 'I don't know why I'm crying. I didn't even like my grandfather very much. And he was so old. It's not exactly a tragedy.'

'I don't think that's how grief works.'

'But I shouldn't be grieving at all, that's my point.'

Gwen shrugged. 'That's emotion for you, refuses to follow logic.'

Cam blew his nose, then laid his head back on the pillow. 'I'm actually really tired. Is it okay if I go to sleep? Just a quick nap.'

'Of course.' Gwen stood up to leave.

'Will you stay with me? Lie down here.' He lifted the quilt and patted the mattress next to him. 'I promise to keep my hands to myself.' A faint smile, the ghost of the normal Cam.

'Sure.' Gwen took off her cardigan and jeans and got into the bed. She lay in the half-dark and listened to Cam's breathing. Just when she thought he'd gone off, he rolled over on his side, facing her. 'I don't know what my dad was like. I didn't really know him.'

Gwen didn't know what to say to that. Sorry? 'Go to sleep; you'll feel better tomorrow.'

Gwen turned on her side and, a moment later, felt Cam's arm across her body.