Taking a swig from his cup of tea, Mal tucked into his bacon and eggs, pretending to be enjoying his breakfast. He wasn’t remotely hungry, but it was the least he could do considering Judith had put the effort in to make it.
Despite Seb’s promise to put scouts out to look for his brother, nothing had yet come back from that – unless there was something he hadn’t been told. Two days since Gary had been last seen and still no word.
Mal ran his hand across his freshly shaved chin and frowned. He risked a glance at his wife. Despite her going through the motions, he knew she was torn up inside and her festering worry grew bigger with every minute that passed.
Judith would be even more unnerved if she knew the rest of her sons had been unlocatable when he’d called the Peacock last night to double-check on progress.
One of them not being on site wasn’t unusual. With the many facets of the business there were lots of things requiring action on a regular basis, but for all the boys to unavailable at the same time? That wasn’t the norm.
Despite not wanting to go down that road, Mal had the sneaking suspicion something wasn’t quite as it should be. He didn’t know what that something was, but whatever it was, it didn’t bode well.
Thankfully, Judith hadn’t made any more noise about registering Gary as a missing person with the police. He’d successfully talked her into leaving the boys to do their digging before bringing the Old Bill into it. However, there was only so long she’d swallow that.
Mal necked a large mouthful of tea in a bid to rid his mouth of the horrible taste the prospect of involving the police becoming a reality brought.
The firm might have several Old Bill in their pocket, which offered a good amount of protection, but a missing person investigation was completely different and would involve departments not necessarily on the firm’s payroll.
All it would take would be one overzealous copper unaware of their long-standing arrangement and all manner of nasties could be unearthed. And the mere thought of that made Mal’s blood pressure rise almost as much as the gnawing worry over Gary.
‘You’re still taking those every morning, aren’t you?’ Judith asked, eyeing Mal as he reached for his pills.
‘Yes, yes, of course,’ Mal said. Although he might have forgotten the odd one or two recently.
‘I don’t need anything else to worry about,’ Judith sniffed, standing to clear the plates away.
Mal smiled. ‘You don’t have to worry about me. I know what I’m doing. Hey, do you fancy going for a drive today? We could go out of town? Maybe grab a bite to eat in a country pub or something?’
Judith shook her head. ‘No. You go out if you like, but one of us should be here in case Gary or one of the other boys rings.’ She quickly left the room, taking the plates with her.
In the kitchen, she stacked them in the sink. She’d deal with those later. First of all, she’d go upstairs and use the phone in the bedroom to call Gloria. She should have had chance to get hold of Samantha by now and might have some news.
Hands trembling, Gloria replaced the handset and stared at it sadly. She wished she’d had better news to give Judith, or at least some news, but all she’d been able to say was reiterate what Sam said about Gary yesterday, which was of no help at all.
The plain truth was that however much she wanted to bury her head in the sand on this subject, she couldn’t allow it to continue. She’d heard the angst in Judith’s voice; sensed the blinding desolation on hearing there was nothing to report.
Gloria sighed. How she wished Len were here. He’d know what to do. He always knew what to do.
She stared at her tired and washed-out reflection in her dressing table mirror. Exhausted.
The trembling in her fingers spread rapidly to the rest of her body, increasing and growing in intensity. It was no good. What would she do if the Stoker boy really had killed himself because of those vicious rumours? Rumours that she had the power to stop?
She wouldn’t be able to bear the guilt, that’s what.
She couldn’t allow that poor boy to take the brunt of this. She would have to put this right, but to do that would mean everything would become public. And what would that do to Sam?
Gloria put her head in her hands and sobbed. There was no right or acceptable way around this. Going ahead would blow her daughter’s life to pieces and, at the same time, shatter her own heart into a thousand little fragments, but there was no other way.
Picking up the phone, her shaking fingers dialled the number for Sam’s apartment. With rising nausea, she listened to it ringing out for what seemed like years before hanging up.
Frowning, she glanced at the clock. Stupid. It was already mid-morning, so Sam would be at the Orchid by now.
Gloria wiped a hand across her brow. She was all over the place. The hours and days rolled into one and she hardly knew whether she was coming or going any more.
Stabbing in the digits for Sam’s direct line at the Orchid – the digits she knew off by heart because they had once belonged to Len, Gloria bit back the tears that threatened again.
Her heart lurched when the call connected, only to crash on hearing an unknown voice. ‘Erm, can I speak to Samantha Reynold, please? It’s Gloria,’ she muttered.
‘Oh, good morning, Mrs Reynold,’ the overbright voice chirped. ‘Miss Reynold is out at the moment. She’s diverted her calls to reception.’
Gloria’s stomach sunk. Out? Out where? ‘When will she be back?’ she heard herself say, her voice sounding as brittle and robotic as she felt.
‘I’m sorry, Mrs Reynold, she didn’t say,’ the happy voice wittered. ‘Can I take a message?’
‘Yes. Please tell her I called and to call me back as soon as she can. It’s urgent,’ Gloria said, quickly ending the call.
After staring at the wall for a couple of minutes, not knowing what to do or think, she found herself opening the top drawer of her chest of drawers and pulling out the letter – the one that had arrived nearly two weeks ago, and the one which had played on her mind, plaguing her thoughts ever since.
So, it was done. The ball was in play and now she would have to deal with the consequences.
‘Got to warn you, honey, this ain’t going to be pleasant.’ Seb glanced at Sam in the passenger seat as he picked his way through the heavy traffic towards Erdington.
Sam’s heart was already racing at a pace she didn’t believe humanly possible and was too on edge to give a second thought to whether there was any hidden meaning behind Seb calling her ‘honey’.
Although, since he’d left last night, the small stretches of sleep she’d managed to steal were peppered with vivid dreams concerning him – dreams she was too embarrassed to even think about, along with nightmares concerning John Maynard.
She swallowed painfully, her mouth dry, wishing she’d bought something to drink. She’d even contemplated having a couple of vodkas in a bid to calm herself down but decided against it. Aside from not wanting a habit of drinking in the morning, she needed to be stone cold sober to witness what she knew she would see. And she had a fairly clear notion of what the upshot of that would be.
Sam looked at Seb, his strong, angled face concentrating on the road ahead, his mind already in the zone, and she knew she needed to get herself into some kind of mindset too.
‘You’re going to kill him, aren’t you?’ she heard herself say.
Seb only hesitated for a moment. ‘I am.’
‘I know,’ Sam said sadly. ‘And I expect it. I also know it won’t be pretty. Well, I don’t… I mean, it’s not like I’ve ever been party to anything like this before…’ And now she was. The baptism of fire into a life she’d never imagined.
Her stomach lurched when Seb turned into a large industrial estate, driving through mazes of large factories and warehouses until he turned up a gravel path leading to a single detached warehouse.
Pulling on the handbrake, he switched off the engine and squeezed Sam’s hand. ‘It’ll be okay. We’ll get to the bottom of this and then all of this grief will be over.’
Sam didn’t pull away from his strong warm hand, even knowing what those hands were about to do to her cousin. John couldn’t be allowed to ruin the firm her father had built and if this was the only way to achieve that, then she’d have to live with it.
‘I’m ready,’ she said, reaching for the door handle.