White Silence Read online

  ‘You trusted me?’

  ‘Why not?’ he said lightly. ‘You trusted me.’

  ‘Why did he try something so stupid while we were here?’

  ‘We were to be his witnesses.’

  ‘Was he after Helene or Alex, do you think?’

  He shrugged. ‘Don’t know. Maybe both. Helene’s money was fast disappearing and he hated Alex.’

  ‘Because he thought he wasn’t his son.’

  ‘Man’s an idiot. Stick the kettle on, Cage.’ He began to clear the table. I waited for him to ask. ‘Was he Rookwood’s son?’

  ‘How should I know?’

  ‘Well, you know – I thought the colour thing might tell you.’

  ‘What am I? A portable DNA machine.’

  ‘I don’t know what you are, Cage. That’s the whole point.’

  Helene came to visit that afternoon, bringing both boys with her. They huddled together in a tight little group. They all looked tired and Leo had been crying again.

  I tried to signal to Jones that she wanted to talk to me alone and astonishingly, he got the message.

  ‘The sun is shining, Cage, so I’m going to leave you for a while. You’ve eaten all the food in the house so I need to go shopping again.’

  ‘Can we come?’ asked Alex, politely. Both of them were very subdued. Their colours were wrapped around themselves and each other.

  Jones looked down at him. How’s your ankle today?’

  ‘It hardly hurts at all.’

  ‘I’ll help him,’ said Leo, quickly.

  ‘Boys, do not bother Mr Jones today. He is very busy.’

  ‘No, that’s all right. Glad to have them. Since your castle inexplicably has no donkeys or other beasts of burden, I shall have to use these two to carry back the heavy stuff.’

  He stopped at my side and put his hand on my arm. ‘Can I bring you back anything?’

  I shook my head, a little touched by his thoughtfulness. ‘No, but thank you.’

  He bent his head and said, ‘I’m sorry, Cage. I was supposed to take care of you.’

  The worlds were light, but I could see he felt badly about this. The grey swirls were seeping back into his colour.

  I smiled at him, feeling a tiny warm glow. ‘It’s good to know there’s someone in this world who’s looking out for me. Even if he is pretty rubbish at it.’

  ‘Any more from you and you can get your own chocolate.’ He moved away. ‘Come on, boys.’

  The door banged behind them. In front of the fire, Juno snuffled and twitched in her sleep.

  Helene declined a cup of tea. ‘Mrs Jones. I would not blame you in the slightest if you wished to leave us as soon as possible, but I do beg you will remain at least until the swelling around your eyes has gone down and your sight is completely restored. I can call our doctor to see you if you like. Whichever you choose I will be happy to assist you. And, of course, there is no question of payment for your stay here.’

  She wanted us gone. I could see it. She was grateful, but we would always be reminders of what had happened here. I didn’t blame her in the slightest.

  ‘No,’ I said, ‘I think we’ll be leaving tomorrow, or possibly the day after. It depends.’

  ‘I understand,’ she said.

  ‘And you? What are your plans?’

  ‘I plan to take the boys and be gone before Thomas is discharged from hospital. That won’t be for a least a week which will give us time to pack properly and make our arrangements.’

  ‘Where will you go?’

  ‘France. To my family just outside Bordeaux, to begin with. My uncle is an excellent lawyer and will advise me on what to do next. The most important thing is to get the boys to safety, of course.’

  ‘Well, I think if your husband has any sense, he will accept a short sharp divorce with whatever financial provisions your uncle thinks appropriate and count himself fortunate.’

  She nodded and stared for some time at her hands. ‘It was The Widow, wasn’t it?’

  We both knew she was referring to Thomas Rookwood’s injuries.

  ‘Yes. She did it to save Alex.’

  ‘I wish I could thank her.’

  ‘I did that on your behalf. She has gone now.’

  ‘I shall always be grateful.’

  Whether she would ‘always be grateful’ to us or to The Widow was not clear and I didn’t ask.

  ‘I have so many times been on the verge of taking the boys and leaving. If I had done so perhaps none of this would have happened.’

  ‘I doubt you would have been permitted to take Leo.’

  ‘No. It was made very clear to me that Leo would always remain with his father. I didn’t want to separate the boys and I certainly didn’t want Leo brought up with his father’s values, so I stayed. Perhaps it was a mistake.’

  ‘You made what you thought was the right decision at the time. That’s all anyone can do. And it’s over now. You’ll all be safe. And Leo slept through the whole thing and even Alex’s memories will fade in time. There will be an exciting new life in an exciting new country. You’ll see.’

  She smiled. ‘Again, thank you. Thank you both.’

  Chapter Eighteen

  We left early the next morning. I believe Jones went to pay the bill but none was presented.

  I packed with some regret. We hadn’t been here very long and now I had to go back and grapple with Sorensen, and Ted’s death, and make decisions about my future, and all sorts of things I really didn’t want to have to do.

  And there was so much to think about. What sort of state would my house be in? Had anyone thought to empty the fridge? And what of Sorensen? Would he be waiting for me? Despite Jones’s reassurances, I still wasn’t very clear about what he could actually do to me. What legal powers did he possess? And speaking of legal matters, what of the consequences of Ted’s death? There would be solicitors, probate and many other things I knew nothing about.

  And what of the future? We were cutting our stay short. There hadn’t been time to make any plans for my future. There had barely been time to think.

  I tried not to feel despondent, but it was hard.

  We drove slowly through the village. After recent events, it was a surprise to find nothing much had changed. The grey cottages were still there. The bubbling stream still ran along the side of the road. We drove downhill in silence.

  After a mile or so, Michael Jones said, ‘I don’t know, I chose the most remote place I could find and you still managed to get us into trouble.’

  ‘Me?’

  ‘Well, you’re surely not blaming me.’

  I regrouped and attacked from a different position. ‘Us?’

  ‘Well yes, we are an “us,” aren’t we? I don’t mean an “us” type of us, but more of an “us” type of us. You know – us rather than us.’

  ‘It worries me that I understand what you’re saying.’

  ‘That’s nothing,’ he said. ‘It worries me that I’m here alone with you, miles from anywhere and help is very far away.’

  ‘Why would you need help?’

  ‘Sweetheart, I always need help.’

  I changed the subject again. ‘Won’t you get into trouble when you go back to the clinic?’

  ‘No, I was in trouble before I left.’

  I couldn’t understand this casual disregard for authority. All my life I’d kept my head down and done as I was told. I asked, ‘Aren’t you worried? Doesn’t it bother you at all?’

  He shrugged. ‘I’ve been frightened by experts. Takes more than a jumped up little monkey in a good suit to terrify me.’

  ‘He is a bit like a monkey, isn’t he? But not one of the nice ones.’

  ‘No, not even like one of the ones who flash their colourful bottoms. I’ve always had a fondness for those.’

  ‘Do you mean mandrills?’

  ‘I don’t know. Do I?’

  There was silence for a few miles and then he said, ‘So what about you?’

  I sighed, r
eturning to the real world. A world full of problems. ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Would you take a word of advice?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Sell your house and make a fresh start. You’re a bit out in the wilds in Whittington.’

  ‘But where?’

  ‘Come back to Rushford.’

  I stared at him in surprise. ‘It’s a bit close to Sorensen, isn’t it?’

  ‘Exactly. You’d be under his radar.’

  ‘He’ll find me,’ I said, trying not to give way to my mounting fears for the future.

  He slowed for a junction. ‘He’ll find you wherever you go. If you’re that close he may be satisfied with simply keeping an eye on you. If you try to hide in the Outer Hebrides, he’ll probably have you brought back.’

  I shivered. ‘I’ll go to the authorities.’

  ‘Sweetheart, I keep telling you – we are the authorities.’

  I said very quietly, ‘I wish Ted was here.’

  ‘We all wish Ted was here.’

  ‘I mean, I don’t know how I’ll manage without him.’

  He laughed. ‘You’ve seen off two very unpleasant experiences in as many months. I really don’t think Sorensen is going to cause you any grief.’

  ‘I’ll think about it.’ And I did. I pondered all sorts of futures as Sorensen’s big car ate up the miles and we headed south.

  * * *

  With fifty miles still to go, he said, ‘Where would you like me to drop you?’

  ‘Well, there’s really only one place, isn’t there. Ted’s house.’

  ‘Your house,’ he reminded me.

  No, not for much longer. I’d read so many times about people who had been the victims of burglary and no longer felt safe in a home they knew had been violated, and now I was beginning to realise how they felt. The thought of Sorensen’s men pawing through our things, laughing, commenting, shoving things back any old how … if they bothered to shove them back at all.

  I’d been thinking about what Jones had said. There must be somewhere you have always wanted to live. Go and live there. Such a good idea. I could go back to live in Rushford. It’s quiet, but big enough to have amenities. I liked the park, and the medieval castle, and the crooked streets, and the nice shops. And what Jones had said about living under his radar made sense. Yes, he’d know where I was. He probably knew where I was now, but if I was so close he could put his hand on me any time he wanted, then he might just leave me alone. Until the day he needed me. That day would come, I knew it, but it hadn’t come yet and something inside me felt quite excited at the thought of a fresh start in a new home.

  ‘I have a flat in Rushford,’ said Jones, apparently reading my thoughts. ‘So it’s not as if you won’t know anyone.’

  ‘I didn’t know your home was in Rushford.’

  ‘It’s not. I said I have a flat there.’

  ‘Oh.’

  A dark and rainy day was drawing to a dark and rainy close as we pulled up outside my house. From the outside, everything looked perfectly normal. Actually, I’m not sure what I expected. Broken windows, curtains torn down, furniture tossed into the front garden …

  There was none of that. My key slid into the lock and the front door opened. Everything was exactly as I had left it the afternoon I had departed to attend Ted’s funeral. Even down to the magazine open on the coffee table. If I hadn’t known Sorensen and his men had been here, I wouldn’t have known Sorensen and his men had been here – if you catch my drift.

  ‘Yes,’ said Jones, running an experienced eye over the place. ‘He’s very good, isn’t he? Shall I take your case upstairs?’

  ‘Thank you. Can I offer you some tea before you go?’

  I don’t know why I said the bit about him going. I was dreading being alone. Dreading that moment when I closed the door behind him and turned to face an empty house.

  ‘No thanks,’ he said, and my heart sank. ‘I’d better take his car back. He’ll be expecting me.’

  ‘Will he really?’

  ‘Well, if he isn’t, he’ll say he was, just to perpetuate the legend. Listen, don’t worry about anything. I’ll telephone you tomorrow. Always supposing he hasn’t had me hauled away for stealing his precious car, but I’m betting he won’t. My guess is that he’ll be thrilled he’s actually found someone whom you apparently trust enough to let them kidnap you. He’ll wait a while to see what happens. So relax. Don’t lie awake at night imagining every sound is Sorensen coming back for you because it won’t be. Got it?’

  I nodded.

  ‘Right then. I’ll call tomorrow and you can treat me to lunch sometime later this week. All right?’

  ‘Yes,’ I said, determined not to be a baby.

  It seemed strange to be back in our home without Ted. He was everywhere. His books. His clothes. In photos. Furniture we had chosen together. Even his favourite food in the freezer. It would all have to be sorted out. Decisions would have to be made about what to keep and what to dispose of. And how. And to whom. But not yet.

  The next morning, I cleaned and tidied the house, changed the sheets, and was just settling down with a cup of tea when Jones rang.

  ‘Hello,’ I said, more pleased to hear from him than I cared to admit. ‘Are you in prison?’

  ‘Astonishingly, no. He very ostentatiously walked around his car a couple of times, failed to find anything he could legitimately complain about and is now, I believe, making arrangements to have the cost of the petrol deducted from my wages. Oh – and the registration plates will be replaced at my expense.’

  ‘What a miserable bastard.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know, I think I got off quite lightly, all things considered.’

  ‘Does he know where I am?’

  ‘Yes, I told him.’

  My voice was high with panic. ‘Why? Why would you do that?’

  ‘He asked me,’ he said simply.

  ‘But now he knows where I am.’

  ‘Well, he probably knew that before he asked me. He just wanted to see if I would tell him the truth.’

  ‘Oh. Did he say anything?’

  ‘Not really. He’s almost certainly got someone watching the house.’

  ‘Oh my God.’

  ‘Yes, and in this weather, too. Stick your head out of the front door, Cage, and see if you can spot some poor bastard in a misted-up car with a radio that doesn’t work, slowly going out of his mind with boredom and trying to prevent his bladder exploding. Ask him in, make him a cup of tea, and let him use the bathroom, there’s a good girl. Speaking as one who’s done more than his fair share of observation details over the years, he will love you for ever. See you Thursday.’

  ‘What for?’

  ‘Lunch. Your treat. Had you forgotten? Or are you one of those people whose people have to contact my people before you can commit yourself?’

  ‘Of course not,’ I said, feeling better every moment.

  ‘Pick you up at twelve thirty then. Don’t forget the tea and pee break.’

  He hung up.

  Out of curiosity, because not for one moment did I actually think anyone might be there, I looked out through the net curtains.

  Oh my God, there was a car parked two doors down on the opposite side of the road. A young man sat behind the wheel. And the windows were misted up.

  I don’t know what came over me. I suspected I was suffering from ‘Contamination by Jones’. I went into the kitchen and made several enormous ham sandwiches, fretted in case he was Jewish, decided I couldn’t be expected to think of everything, filled up a thermos with tea and let myself out of the front door.

  It was a miserable day, wet and raw. He watched me approach, pretending he wasn’t looking. I tapped on the driver’s window. For along moment, he stared straight ahead, and then reluctantly lowered the window.

  I handed him the sandwiches and thermos. ‘There you are. When you’ve finished, bring the stuff back and I’ll let you use the bathroom.’

  He stared, appal
led. I’ve never actually had that effect on anyone before. His creamy grey colour streamed away from me as if I had the plague. And then, red-faced, he took the thermos and plate, stammered something, and closed the window again.

  I felt better than I had for days.

  Jones was punctual to the minute on Thursday, but I was waiting for him. He handed me into the car and then climbed in beside me. ‘Don’t I get a “hello”?’

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ I said. ‘I didn’t recognise you in an unstolen car.’

  He grinned. ‘You’re feeling better, then.’

  We had lunch in a quiet pub down by the river.

  He handed me the menu. ‘Robbie says thanks for the sandwiches.’

  ‘Oh, poor boy, I felt so sorry for him.’

  ‘He’s not a boy, but he thinks you’re a very nice lady.’

  ‘Fat lot of good that will do if Sorensen decides to have me assassinated.’

  The couple at the next table turned to look at us.

  ‘Louder, Cage. I think there’s a couple of people on the other side of town who didn’t quite catch that.’

  I could feel myself blushing.

  Chapter Nineteen

  I didn’t settle well. The house – Ted’s house – felt cold and alien. I lost count of the number of times I scrubbed down the kitchen, trying to eradicate any trace of Sorensen’s people being there. I ignored Jones’s advice and lay awake at night, ears straining for any sound of someone moving around outside … a quiet footstep on the stair … the bedroom door slowly opening …

  The stuff I’d left behind at the clinic was couriered to me a couple of days after I arrived at the house I used to think of as home. Everything was neatly packed and it was all there. Even the little box of Ted’s possessions. There was no accompanying message. I threw it all away. If I thought Sorensen had touched it – it went. Plain and simple.

  I was busy for the first few weeks, sorting through Ted’s stuff, dealing with solicitors and the bank, and when I finally had time to lift my head and look about me, spring had arrived. Ted’s garden began to push out new green shoots everywhere. For some reason, my sense of loss deepened even further. I didn’t think I could bear to look at Ted’s garden without Ted in it.