No Lovelier Death by Graham Hurley Page B

anger in his wife’s face.
    ‘You make it sound like it was their fault,’ she said.
    ‘Well it was, in a way.’
    She looked up at him in disbelief. Booze, thought Winter. And anger. And loss. He doesn’t mean it. He’s just run out of things to say.
    Hughes turned round at last, and reached down for the bottle. He was looking at Winter, his face beaded with sweat.
    ‘Tell me I’m wrong,’ he said. ‘Tell me the world hasn’t gone crazy.
    Tell me it’s not a jungle out there. Tell me …’ he frowned, staring down at his glass, fighting to control himself ‘… that bloody boy of mine will be home tonight.’
    He began to sob, his whole body shaking. When his wife got up and stepped across, he tried to shield himself, fending her off. She put her arm around him and led him away. Winter heard their footsteps on the stairs, the soft murmur of her voice, then the sound of a door closing. His glass had dripped red wine across the carpet. Winter was still watching the cricket when she returned.
    She sat down, saying nothing, staring at the window. The silence between them thickened. Finally, Winter said he ought to leave her in peace.
    ‘No,’ she said. ‘Don’t.’
    At length she got up and fetched a wine glass from the drinks cabinet in the corner. Winter, assuming she needed a drink, reached for the bottle.
    ‘This is for you.’ She gave him the glass. ‘You knew Gareth?’
    ‘Never had the pleasure, Mrs Hughes.’
    ‘But Rachel? You knew her?’ She seemed glad of someone to talk to.
    ‘A bit.’ Winter emptied the bottle. ‘This relationship of theirs. Quite recent, wasn’t it?’
    ‘Very.’
    ‘Had he known her before?’
    ‘Not really. They were in the same year, at the same school, so they weren’t total strangers, but to be honest I think the whole thing took Gareth a bit by surprise. Not that he didn’t … you know … fancy her. Anyone would. She was attractive. She was bright. She was a wonderful girl. But I don’t think he ever quite worked out why she’d picked him.’
    ‘Picked?’
    ‘Yes.’ She reached for the remote and switched off the TV. ‘I get the impression she made all the running.’
    Rachel, she said, had been in another relationship for years. Friends of Gareth’s regarded her as practically married. Then suddenly there she was, turning up with Gareth for Sunday lunch, a neat little pile of roast lamb pushed to the side of her plate.
    ‘A vegetarian?’
    ‘Definitely. And a girl who knew exactly what else she wanted in life. I think Gareth was a bit bewildered to begin with. He didn’t know quite what to make of her. His father just told him to enjoy himself.’
    ‘While it lasted?’
    ‘Exactly. His exact words.’
    There was a stir of movement overhead, then silence. Winter wondered how long he’d got.
    ‘They were keen on each other then? Rachel and your boy?’
    ‘Very. I know Gareth. He was quite a shy lad. In a way she overwhelmed him. I suppose I should have worried but I didn’t. I was probably wrong but I think he needed a bit of that in his life.’
    ‘A bit of what, Mrs Hughes?’
    ‘A bit of oomph. A bit of adventure. A bit of passion. Don’t get me wrong. He was a lovely boy. He was kind. He was sensible. He had nice friends. He worked really hard. But looking back I don’t think he ever took risks.’
    ‘And Rachel was a risk?’
    ‘Yes. Because Rachel is the kind of girl you’d fall in love with. And Gareth had never risked that in his life.’
    The kind of girl you’d fall in love with.
    ‘You mentioned someone else. A previous boyfriend.’
    ‘Of Rachel’s, you mean?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘Yes.’ She nodded. ‘His name was Matt.’
    ‘Did Gareth ever talk about him at all?’
    ‘A couple of times.’
    ‘In what context?’
    ‘Just things that Rachel had said. How different Gareth was to her last boyfriend. How simple life could be.’
    ‘Did they ever meet? Gareth and Matt?’
    ‘Not to my knowledge. The last week or so, to