Freya was insistent that she spent the rest of the Easter holidays with her cousins. Phoebe gladly agreed. She knew her dear sister needed time alone to sort her affairs and, if Freya was kept busy, she wouldn’t think so much about Sam not being around. Jess was just sitting quietly at Hope’s having a cup of tea when there was a sharp knock on the door. It was the police. ‘Mrs. Beresford, we’d be really grateful if you could come to the station with us.’
Jess obligingly agreed. She wearily got into the police car and thanked the officers for giving her some time, before the obvious questioning had to ensue. She sat in their dank interview room and felt desperate. Who’d have thought that her life would come to this? Her husband dead, her home burnt down. She was now, at fifty yearsold, a single parent.
‘Can you think of anyone at all who would have a grudge against you or your husband?’ The older of the two policemen asked matter-of-factly. He had a large moustache that moved as he talked and it actually made Jess want to giggle.
‘No,’ she replied immediately. ‘I still think it must be a terrible mistake. My husband and I lived a quiet, normal existence.’
The policeman was stony-faced.
‘My husband was a good man,’ she added, suddenly for some strange reason, feeling guilty herself. He placed some folders in front of her on the desk and then held a key up in front of her. ‘Do you recognise this key, Mrs. Beresford?’
She took it from him and fingered it.
‘It was in a folder marked 65 Eastern Street,’ the Policeman added.
‘Eastern Street, I’m not aware of that address and a key is a key to me. But I guess it could be an office key. The barn where Lemon Events is situated had lots of doors,’ Jess stated.
The policeman looked at her with pity and produced yet more folders. ‘I really don’t like to do this to you, Mrs. Beresford, but we went to the Eastern Street address. It was indeed an office, rented by your husband. We recovered the following from one of the filing cabinets there.’
He put a bright pink folder in front of her. ‘Take a look.’
Jess quizzically opened the folder. It was full of greetings cards. She curiously looked inside one of the cards.
Darling Sam, you were so right Gay Paris is all it’s cracked up to be. Thank you for a wonderful time. All my love Sabine
And then another.
If this is just a starter as you implied, I cannot wait for the main course. Kisses Julia
She was white by the time she read the third one
Sam Beresford, Monte Carlo and me! Let’s live the dream! Love always Susie xx
‘It’s fine everybody has a past,’ she said nonchalantly, wanting for some reason to stick up for her obvious philanderer of a dead husband.
‘I’m so sorry, Mrs. Beresford, but some of the cards were in envelopes, the postmarks go back over the past six years. We also found a numerous receipts for hotels and restaurants around Europe.’ The moustache continued moving.
‘He always travelled with work, that’s why you found those,’ Jess replied, not wanting to believe what she was hearing.
The first policeman continued. ‘We are obviously making enquiries with all of the ladies concerned. We have reason to believe that your husband’s philandering could well have led to the incident at your house.’
Jess felt sick. She sighed deeply in disbelief. The second policeman, who was young enough to be her grandson suddenly piped up. ‘I’m afraid we have more bad news for you.’
Jess sunk into her seat, how on earth could she possibly hear something worse than her husband being a serial adulterer?
‘Due to the serious nature of the incident at your house, we obviously had to go through all of your husband’s paperwork and computer files. I’m afraid it’s come to light he didn’t renew the buildings and contents insurance for Fern Cottage this year.’
Too busy bloody shagging probably, Jess thought. Then, realising the seriousness of what they were saying, she tried to think clearly. ‘OK, but I know he had life insurance policies. He did always joke saying that if something ever did happen to him, I would be more than fine. These policies will cover the house rebuild, I know they will.’
The policemen looked at each other and Jess could tell there was worse to come.
‘What? What now?’ she spat. ‘Please don’t tell me they were invalid too?’
‘Not invalid, Mrs. Beresford, but it has also come to light that your husband had a tendency for gambling over the internet. He was in a lot of debt, so much so that his company is now in liquidation. Whatever money he did have will go to pay his debtors. I’m so sorry.’
Jess thought she was going to be sick. Not only did she now not have anywhere to live, she had no money to live on. Angry that these two total strangers had delivered such devastating news in such a cold fashion, she jumped up and slung her handbag over her shoulder. ‘Take me home please.’