Will took his change, then turned and walked back to the armchairs next to the open fire.
Placing the two pints of real ale on the table between them, he sank into the padded material with a sigh, and pushed one of the glasses towards Erin.
‘There you go. Apparently it’s the local one, and everyone else seems to be drinking it, so it must be good.’
Erin smiled and clinked her glass against his, before taking a sip, and taking an appreciative look at the dark amber liquid. ‘That’s not bad. I haven’t been in here for years.’
They’d driven for twenty minutes after leaving Rossiter’s house, the scenery passing the windows in silence. Will wondered if Erin was setting a trap for him, but he was intrigued to know what she wanted to talk about, and so followed her directions.
When she’d instructed him to turn left and the road dipped down into a shady glen, his heartbeat had rocketed, paranoia fuelling the fear that an ambush would take place. He’d sighed aloud when the pub had appeared in view, ignoring the bemused look that had crossed Erin’s face.
Will leaned forward and lowered his voice. ‘So, what did you want to talk about?’
She glanced across at him. ‘You go first.’
‘Well, I guess I’d like to know a bit more about your uncle. Seems everything that happened yesterday was because of him, or something he’s done.’
‘Is that why you came to the press conference?’
‘Yes.’ Will sighed. ‘I’m just trying to make some sense of all this.’
‘He’s not really my uncle, you know,’ said Erin. ‘He was a friend of my father’s a long time ago. You know Rossiter made his money in construction?’
Will nodded.
‘Well, my father used to do some work for him, here and there,’ she said. ‘So I ended up hanging around building sites in the school holidays, making cups of tea and that sort of stuff.’
‘How long since you were last here?’ asked Will, easing back into the chair, and resting his pint on the faded green material.
‘About a year now.’ She shrugged. ‘I used to spend holidays down here when I was a kid, before I went away to university at Southampton. Then I moved to London when I graduated.’
‘I got the impression back at the house that you know Amy?’
‘Yes. I approached her while I was still working in the city a while ago.’ Erin caught Will’s gaze, then explained. ‘I worked for a refugee agency in London since I left university.’
‘But not any more?’
She shook her head. ‘I needed a break. It’s incredibly heart-breaking and frustrating work, in equal measures.’
She took another sip of her pint, and then placed the glass on the table. ‘What about you?’
‘I work in the archives section at the British Museum.’ He glanced down at his hands. ‘Doesn’t sound very exciting, does it?’
Erin smiled, a wistful expression crossing her face. ‘I used to love going to that museum when I was a kid.’
She stopped talking, and turned her gaze to the window.
Will noticed her eyes had turned red, and tears threatened. He leaned forward. ‘Hey, is everything all right?’
She nodded, sniffled, and turned back to him. ‘Yes. Thanks. It’s okay.’
He inhaled the faint scent of her perfume while she regained her composure before speaking again.
‘I’d read some of her work last year – remember that article she wrote about the city banker who was skimming off his employers’ profits?’
Will nodded, and gestured for her to continue.
‘I had some, information, about Rossiter,’ she said. ‘Information I thought Amy might be able to use.’ She held up her hand to stop Will interrupting. ‘I’m not prepared to discuss what that was, sorry.’
‘Did you stay in touch with her? I mean, after you gave her that information?’
She nodded. ‘We probably spoke once a week. I was interested in her progress.’
Will frowned. ‘So this story she’s been working on – about Rossiter – it was your idea?’
She shook her head. ‘She was already researching something about him. I’m not sure what. It was just coincidence that I contacted her at the same time. Gave her another angle to work from.’
Will sank back into his chair and took a sip of his beer, thoughts churning. As he set the glass back on the table, he looked across at Erin.
‘Why would you help Amy write a story that could destroy your father’s friend?’
‘They’re not friends any more,’ she said. ‘Haven’t been close for years. They had a falling out a while ago.’
‘But you still stay at his house.’
‘No – I don’t. I just dropped by when I heard he was going to do a press conference from there. I wanted to hear what he said.’ She twirled a strand of hair between her fingers as she spoke. ‘A bit like you, I suppose. Although I have to say, I didn’t expect to see you there.’
‘How did you know who I was?’
‘Amy told me about you, the first time we met.’
‘Did your uncle know you were there?’
‘Oh, yes – I phoned ahead. I didn’t want to surprise him or anything. He doesn’t like surprises.’ She broke off and checked her watch and scowled. ‘That reminds me. I’m meant to be taking him out to lunch at one o’clock, so you’d better drop me back at the house.’
‘Right, okay.’
Confused at the abrupt end to their conversation, Will stood and took the empty pint glasses back to the bar, then followed Erin out the door to the car park.
He unlocked the car, and waited until he started the engine before he spoke again.
‘Why are you taking him to lunch?’
She stared at him, and then back to the road as the asphalt passed under the car, the green scenery passing in a blur.
‘It’s a case of keeping up appearances,’ she murmured.
Will didn’t know how to respond, so instead he concentrated on his driving, shifted gear and accelerated up the hill.
As they neared the house, Erin held up her hand.
‘Stop here.’
Will swung the car over to the left, onto the dirt shoulder of the road, and applied the handbrake.
‘Why?’
‘Probably not a good idea for you to drive up to the house – in case he sees you.’
‘Won’t he ask where you’ve been?’
‘I’ll tell him I’ve been out for a walk.’
‘Are you going to tell him about me?’
She shook her head. ‘I never saw you.’
Will rubbed his hands over his eyes. ‘This still doesn’t make sense.’
‘It will.’ She unclipped her seatbelt and let the material slide through her fingers. ‘We still have a lot to talk about. Have you got a business card?’
He shook his head.
‘So, how do I get hold of you?’
He turned to face her and scrutinised her features.
Could she be trusted?
He sighed, reached over to the glove compartment and pulled out the motel brochure. He turned it over and pointed out the details of the one where he was staying.
‘You can ask for me here.’
She took the brochure from him, their fingers touching briefly, and then she folded up the pamphlet and tucked it into the pocket of her jeans.
Opening the passenger door, she turned to him. ‘Keep your head down, Will Fletcher. I’ll be in touch.’
She slammed the door shut and he watched as she strode up the road and then turned into the driveway of the house.
He sighed, checked his mirrors, then steered a U-turn in the road and headed back to the motel, his mind working overtime.
Somewhere, buried amongst Amy’s notes on the hard drive, were some answers.
He hoped.