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When Beth returned from her first visit to the local surgery, she didn’t know how she felt about being told that everything was “on track”. The midwife seemed too young, but Beth had sat and nodded as she’d been lectured about the folic acid supplements she should have been taking during the time that had elapsed, and how she now needed vitamin D and why eating healthily was vital.
She’d been offered a date scan, but Beth had told her why she knew exactly how pregnant she was. The midwife had then said respectfully little as she’d checked her blood pressure and measured her BMI. Blood and urine samples had been taken, and she was then given a date to return for her sixteen week antenatal appointment. It was in three week’s time.
She wanted to tuck it to the back of her mind. As far as she was concerned, it was something happening the other side of a barrier. Beth was still standing behind it, trying to process the remnants of the past not the future. But those seemed to be rapidly deteriorating.
Another clip had been taken down. That left only three. Is this what naturally happened? Beth assumed that once you posted something on YouTube, it was there forever. It was the sequence that captured Cigarillo Man being interviewed by the police, that had been uploaded by Spike666. It seemed very odd that two uploads of the same incident would vanish within such a short space of time.
She recalled what had happened to Trip Stillman, the drummer from Blood Legend. Attacked in his own home around the same time his recording had been removed.
She watched the one she’d cued up which showed Rae Salomon’s alarm at being captured by so many phone cameras. It stopped her dead in her tracks, and Beth paused her expression. She recalled the fear in Rae’s voice when she’d spoken of the man who pursued her. She’d been convinced her presence at the crash and appearance in the clips had led to her discovery.
It sounded like Rae had been caught up with some brutal people. But, even if she were, why would criminals want to remove the recordings? They were trying to locate her. What would they gain from deleting them? She was being foolish. It was just coincidence.
She was indulging her new appetite for paranoia when she had something much more immediate to concern herself with. But her encounter in the woods with Roland and Erik was needling her, too. Had the two of them been concealing something?
Beth was only torturing herself by continually watching the uploads. Shouldn’t she be grateful for the fact the evidence of her ordeal was slowly dwindling? But what would be the reason for taking something down, unless there was a copyright issue or a threat of legal action?
She continued playing the “smilingassassin” clip. She’d planned to watch all of them again, volume up, to see if she could discern anything else that Luc might have said. But the noise from the crowd stepped on anything that was going on the other side of the road, and she already knew this would be the case in all of them.
She watched Luc murmuring to Rae as she held his hand. Whoever had recorded it was too far away. Even with the word firmly implanted, she couldn’t really make out the shape his lips were forming.
Allegro.
There were no other uploads on smilingassassin’s channel and no links to other sites. Beth sent them a message via YouTube, asking if they’d shot it themselves. She watched again, and heard Jody demonstrably slam his studio door. He was telling her it was time to stop.
When she heard the knock at Jody’s front door later that day, Beth had no intention of answering. He’d said nobody of any importance would arrive on his doorstep when he was out, so it was how she dealt with all of his day callers. It certainly wouldn’t be her parents, as they’d telephoned and were expecting her to visit them.
Out of duty, though, she looked down at the visitor from Jody’s lounge window expecting to see a postman or delivery guy. A face was awaiting Beth’s appearance, tilted upwards in readiness to intercept her. It was the dark suited figure of Jerome McIntyre.
Beth quickly leaned away from the pane as if the reflex would wipe away his obvious recognition of her. “Shit.” She dipped back, smiled then indicated she was on her way down.
How the hell had he found the address? She had a strong suspicion. Her conversation with Jerome was long overdue, however. There was so much at stake, and she owed it to Luc to make sure she didn’t make things too easy for him.
When she opened the door, his salt-and-pepper eyebrows had already gathered in a sympathetic cluster on the bridge of his nose. His matching beard was fuller and his hair looked longer than usual and unkempt.
“Hi, Beth. I didn’t want to catch you at a bad time. But then I realised that every day is going to be a bad time, so I want to keep this as brief as possible.” It sounded like he’d rehearsed it.
“Would you like to come inside?” She didn’t feel comfortable saying it about someone else’s home.
“No, really. I’m afraid I used the thumbscrews on your mother, but please don’t be angry with her. First of all, I wanted to say how sorry I am for what happened... personally.”
It looked as if he’d put on a little more weight since she’d last seen him. And the extra wrinkle below his chin seemed to confirm this. He was standing awkwardly, an attaché case stuffed under his arm that appeared to put his whole body off balance. Or was he drunk? His red complexion seemed to suggest so, but Beth was aware he suffered from high blood pressure. But even though she knew exactly what he was doing at Jody’s, she couldn’t bring herself to be cold towards someone who had just lost Luc from his life as well.
“Thanks, Jerome.” She waited for him to move onto the real reason for his visit.
“And I feel very uncomfortable about being here but... as you haven’t returned any of my calls...” He visibly squirmed. “If it was up to me, I’d want you to take as long as you need before you have to address anything like this, but a lot of pressure is being exerted from other quarters...”
“What do you need from me, Jerome? And, for God’s sake, come in.”
“No, really, I know I’m imposing. Credit me with a little more sensitivity than that.” For a moment he seemed genuinely hurt. “I just need you to look over this interim contract.” He opened the attaché case and extracted the document. “I feel sick about this, Beth.” As Jerome gulped dryly, she realised how nervous he really was. “Basically, it temporarily transfers executive responsibility to me until such time as you want to discuss matters in more depth. It just means I’m able to run things day-to-day. I simply need your signature.”
She took the paper from him and his hand was shaking.
“Run it past somebody. I’d expect that.” His dark blue eyes held hers for emphasis. “Just call the office when you’re ready. Sorry again for this.” He turned to leave.
“Jerome...”
He spun back, as if having to return his gaze to her was painful.
“Thank you for going to Rouen for Luc’s funeral.” It seemed like the strangest thing she’d said since waking up, but Beth was satisfied she hadn’t made it sound bitter. “My mother said you were very attentive.”
Jerome shook his head and blinked away her gratitude.
“Give my love to Lin.” Despite her mistrust of Jerome, she’d always been conscientious about maintaining contact with his wife, even when he and Luc had been at loggerheads.
Jerome opened his mouth to say something and then didn’t. He recovered quickly, though. “I certainly will.”
“Something wrong?”
“Lin and I are... not really together at the moment.” He looked at her waist when he said it. “I’ve moved out temporarily. I’m sure things will work themselves out.” He didn’t meet her eye as he turned back down the steps.
She watched him get into the back of the red Lexus that was waiting for him and get hastily driven off.
