‘You sure you don’t want me to come in?’ Ben asked, keeping the engine on so the air conditioning continued to shut out the stifling heat.
Alice looked over to him and smiled, feeling exhausted after last night’s uncomfortable sleep in the hospital armchair. ‘It’s probably best if I go in and bring Isabella out. It’s going to be weird for her as it is, without us making it more overwhelming.’
Ben reached for her hand and put it to his lips. ‘How did I get so lucky as to land someone as caring as you? I don’t deserve you.’
She moved her hand to his face and gently rubbed his cheek with her thumb.
They were parked on the pavement outside a three-storey block of flats. The brickwork was yet to be faded by the extremities of weather and time; it couldn’t be much older than Alice herself. The block was one of three situated around a communal square, but nobody was using the park benches in the area, each stained with graffiti and bird muck. It seemed such a shame. Once upon a time a developer would have envisioned this small community coming together to share food and drink on a day as beautiful as this. They’d have had such high hopes, but the problem with optimism is that human nature is the biggest obstacle to it.
Alice pushed the door of the 4x4 open and stepped down onto the road surface, the wave of heat hitting her like a hard slap to the face. Crossing the road and entering the courtyard, she couldn’t help but wonder how Faye was coping. Would they have interviewed her yet? She could only hope DC Hazelton was remaining true to her word and taking care of Faye. It was more than one woman’s life on the line; Isabella’s would be permanently affected by whatever outcome the police reached. Their duty was to assess what had happened, why and whether the law had been broken. A man was dead, but that didn’t mean anyone else had to suffer.
Pressing the button next to number two, Alice waited for the communal door to buzz, before heading inside. It was just as warm, if not a fraction warmer, inside the building, where the sun’s rays had been magnified by the large glass panels either side of the door.
Faye’s mum was waiting patiently just inside her door, and although her face initially bore no sign of emotion, the moment their eyes met her face screwed into a ball and her arms reached out as though she might fall if not propped up. Alice sprinted the remaining steps and caught the woman, and for five minutes they just stood there, supporting each other and allowing the pain to course through them.
‘Have you seen her? Is she okay?’ the older woman asked once they were inside.
‘I stayed with her last night,’ Alice said, ‘and I was there when they took her to the police station this morning. I never realized just how bad things were between her and Johnny.’
Although Alice had met Faye’s mum at Faye and Johnny’s wedding and at Isabella’s christening and birthdays, they had never really been formally introduced. The woman’s name was Dorothy, but everyone called her Dotty, even Faye. Born in Senegal, she was proud of her African heritage, and although her thick hair was now the colour of a raincloud, the skin beneath the hair remained as dark as ever. Dotty had moved to the UK with Faye’s dad, a British-born sergeant in the army, and they had lived together happily until he had been killed in service on the eve of Faye’s sixth birthday. So if anyone understood the pain and grief Isabella was yet to face, it was her mum.
Dotty dabbed the corner of her eye with a fresh tissue from the box on the kitchen table between them. ‘I should have known. She claimed she was just clumsy. I saw her less and less this last year, but now that I look back on it, I don’t remember the last time I didn’t see her with a bruise or bandage of some kind. I should have asked – no, I should have demanded – to know what was going on, but she never liked to talk about her personal life, only ever about Isabella and school.’
Alice’s phone vibrated loudly on the table, but she didn’t recognize the number. She was going to ignore it, let the messaging service take it, when Dotty stood and headed over to the kettle.
‘I’ll make us some tea,’ she said. ‘Isabella is playing in the garden, but she’ll be needing some lunch soon.’
Alice put the phone to her ear. ‘Alice Goodman speaking.’
‘Is now a good time for you to talk? Is Ben in the room?’
She recognized Liam O’Neill’s voice and a shiver ran the course of her spine. ‘What do you want?’ she said, leaving the kitchen so Dotty wouldn’t overhear the spite in her voice.
‘I wanted to check you were okay?’ O’Neill replied. ‘After what we told you yesterday, I hoped you’d have had time to think about Mary’s warning and would be ready to help us.’
It was all Alice could do to stop herself shouting. ‘Help you? Help you with what exactly? Framing my husband for something he didn’t do? Why do you have such a vendetta against Ben?’
His voice sounded uncertain. ‘It’s not a vendetta, and you’re not safe if you stay with him. You heard what we had to say: Ben killed Mary’s mother. He got her to take out a huge life assurance policy and then pushed her down the stairs.’
‘How dare you!’ she shouted. ‘How dare you wage this war against me and my husband? I told Ben everything you had to say, and I told him how you’ve been stalking me since Sunday. He paints a very different picture of his doomed relationship with Mary; how she took advantage of him—’
‘Of course he’d say that,’ O’Neill interrupted, ‘but I have it on good authority that he was the one who chased after her.’
‘Whose authority? Mary’s? Right now it’s her word against his, and I for one know whom I’d rather believe.’
‘You’re not safe, Alice.’
‘Why? Because Ben’s bitter ex-wife and some kid he used to bully say so? Ben’s admitted he was a shit when he was younger, but that doesn’t give you the right to hound him – and me – now!’
‘If the police didn’t think he pushed Mary’s mum, the case never would have made it to trial.’
‘If he was guilty the jury would have found him so.’
‘What about the fact that his was the only DNA found on Kerry Valentine’s body?’
‘He’s explained all that and I think you should get your facts straight before you go accusing him of anything else. The police now think they know who killed her, and the perpetrator is dead.’
O’Neill didn’t respond, and Alice suddenly became aware of just how loud her voice was.
‘Do you know what?’ she continued in a loud whisper. ‘If you continue to pester us, I’ll have no choice but to tell the police and your editor what a vindictive little man you truly are.’
She disconnected the phone and blocked the number before he’d had chance to respond. Taking several deep breaths, she tried to lower her pulse to a steadier beat before returning to the kitchen, ready to apologize for her outburst. Dotty seemed oblivious that Alice had even left and returned to the room. She was standing by the back door out to the patio, watching Isabella happily playing on the swing apparatus.
Alice wrapped a gentle arm around Dotty’s shoulders, but didn’t say anything as she too watched the little girl lost in her own world of daydreams and adventures, unaware of the pain and grief before her.
‘I’ll make that tea,’ Dotty said eventually, turning away from the door and filling the two cups.
Alice retook her seat at the kitchen table. ‘Did you pack a few things in a bag for Isabella? I don’t know how long the police will keep Faye in, but hopefully she’ll be back out with Isabella soon enough.’
‘I left a bag by the front door,’ Dotty said as she lowered the cups to the table. ‘Do you think they will let her out?’
Alice’s heart ached at the possibility that the next time she saw Faye it could be within the confines of a prison. She could see the look of longing in Dotty’s eyes, begging for anyone to tell her everything would be okay, but Alice couldn’t offer any such reassurance.
‘The police don’t lock up innocent people,’ Alice said through the pain.
Thankfully that seemed enough as the first flicker of a smile appeared on Dotty’s lips. ‘I know you’ll take good care of Isabella. You have a kind face and a warm heart. I just wish there was more I could do, but with my arthritis and the medication I take for the pain in my hip … I just wouldn’t be able to guarantee her safety.’
Alice squeezed Dotty’s hands and made a silent promise to anyone who would listen: she would protect Isabella until the end of her days.