stepped back and the man came inside. He was bigger than Tony in every way – taller, broader, more obviously confident of his place in the world. ‘Tony, this is my neighbour, George Nicholas. George, this is Tony Hill. Tony’s a former colleague of mine.’
George offered his hand and Tony accepted it. The grip was exactly as firm and dry as he expected. George gave him an appraising look. ‘You’re a police officer?’ He sounded almost amused.
‘No, I’m a clinical psychologist. I offer advice in a variety of areas.’ Tony met George’s eyes with a measured stare. He was standing alongside Carol, the pair of them effectively blocking any further advance by the visitor.
‘All a bit beyond me, I’m afraid,’ George said. He crouched to pet the dog, scratching her head and rubbing her ears. Then he stood and turned his attention to Carol. ‘I haven’t seen you out on the hill for the last few days. Not since you came to supper on Saturday. I just wanted to check everything was all right?’
Tony imagined Carol’s dismay but he knew it wouldn’t show in her face. Time to come to the rescue. ‘That’s my fault. I’ve been staying for a few days and I’ve knocked Carol’s routine for six.’ Tony grinned cheerfully.
‘And I completely forgot my manners, George. I meant to drop you a thank you note. I’m sorry,’ Carol said, picking up his cue.
‘Oh no, no need. I was simply a little… concerned, that’s all.’ He gave Tony a wry smile, as if conceding defeat. ‘I’ve grown accustomed to seeing Carol and Flash out on the hill in the morning.’
‘It’s nice to know there’s somebody looking out for you when I’m not around,’ Tony said, well aware that he sounded condescending to both of them.
George tipped his cap and backed out of the door. ‘I’ll be on my way. Good to see you, Carol. And to meet you, Tony.’ He turned and walked away without a backward glance. Carol closed the door and leaned against it, shaking her head, her expression a mixture of amusement and incredulity.
‘What?’ he said, knowing perfectly well what.
‘You. Pretending to be all territorial.’ Then her face grew serious. ‘Thank you for saving me from having to tell him.’
Tony shrugged. ‘He’ll find out soon enough. You’ve got plenty of humiliations to come without seeking them out.’ He turned away and started walking back to the kitchen. After a few steps, he turned on his heel and walked backwards. ‘You don’t fancy him, do you?’
Carol stopped dead. ‘George? No, what made you think that?’
‘I didn’t. But I wanted to be sure.’
‘It’s kind of none of your business.’
‘I know that.’ Tony stopped too. In the stark light and shade cast by the work lamp he couldn’t see her eyes. He didn’t know if there was humour or anger lurking in their shadows. ‘But I think he fancies you.’
‘You think so?’ There was definitely humour in her voice.
‘It’s obvious. Well, it’s obvious to me, but then I am a clinical psychologist. So I wanted to clear things up because I don’t know if you noticed us doing the guy thing just now, where I more or less told him to back off? Only, if you do fancy him, you’ll have to go and apologise for your friend Tony who has no social skills.’
She laughed. ‘Well, that much is true.’ Her voice softened. ‘But there’s no need to apologise. I’ve got no romantic interest in George.’
He wanted to sigh with relief. Instead, one side of his mouth twisted up in a half-smile and he swung round and walked back to the kitchen. Sometimes there was no need to have the last word.
Stacey Chen was beginning to feel as if she was drowning. It hadn’t taken her long to hack her way into the official accounts of Kate Rawlins’ suicide, the ongoing investigation into Jasmine Burton’s presumed suicide and the later addition to the roster – the gas explosion that had killed Daisy Morton. As well as the formal documents, she’d
George offered his hand and Tony accepted it. The grip was exactly as firm and dry as he expected. George gave him an appraising look. ‘You’re a police officer?’ He sounded almost amused.
‘No, I’m a clinical psychologist. I offer advice in a variety of areas.’ Tony met George’s eyes with a measured stare. He was standing alongside Carol, the pair of them effectively blocking any further advance by the visitor.
‘All a bit beyond me, I’m afraid,’ George said. He crouched to pet the dog, scratching her head and rubbing her ears. Then he stood and turned his attention to Carol. ‘I haven’t seen you out on the hill for the last few days. Not since you came to supper on Saturday. I just wanted to check everything was all right?’
Tony imagined Carol’s dismay but he knew it wouldn’t show in her face. Time to come to the rescue. ‘That’s my fault. I’ve been staying for a few days and I’ve knocked Carol’s routine for six.’ Tony grinned cheerfully.
‘And I completely forgot my manners, George. I meant to drop you a thank you note. I’m sorry,’ Carol said, picking up his cue.
‘Oh no, no need. I was simply a little… concerned, that’s all.’ He gave Tony a wry smile, as if conceding defeat. ‘I’ve grown accustomed to seeing Carol and Flash out on the hill in the morning.’
‘It’s nice to know there’s somebody looking out for you when I’m not around,’ Tony said, well aware that he sounded condescending to both of them.
George tipped his cap and backed out of the door. ‘I’ll be on my way. Good to see you, Carol. And to meet you, Tony.’ He turned and walked away without a backward glance. Carol closed the door and leaned against it, shaking her head, her expression a mixture of amusement and incredulity.
‘What?’ he said, knowing perfectly well what.
‘You. Pretending to be all territorial.’ Then her face grew serious. ‘Thank you for saving me from having to tell him.’
Tony shrugged. ‘He’ll find out soon enough. You’ve got plenty of humiliations to come without seeking them out.’ He turned away and started walking back to the kitchen. After a few steps, he turned on his heel and walked backwards. ‘You don’t fancy him, do you?’
Carol stopped dead. ‘George? No, what made you think that?’
‘I didn’t. But I wanted to be sure.’
‘It’s kind of none of your business.’
‘I know that.’ Tony stopped too. In the stark light and shade cast by the work lamp he couldn’t see her eyes. He didn’t know if there was humour or anger lurking in their shadows. ‘But I think he fancies you.’
‘You think so?’ There was definitely humour in her voice.
‘It’s obvious. Well, it’s obvious to me, but then I am a clinical psychologist. So I wanted to clear things up because I don’t know if you noticed us doing the guy thing just now, where I more or less told him to back off? Only, if you do fancy him, you’ll have to go and apologise for your friend Tony who has no social skills.’
She laughed. ‘Well, that much is true.’ Her voice softened. ‘But there’s no need to apologise. I’ve got no romantic interest in George.’
He wanted to sigh with relief. Instead, one side of his mouth twisted up in a half-smile and he swung round and walked back to the kitchen. Sometimes there was no need to have the last word.
Stacey Chen was beginning to feel as if she was drowning. It hadn’t taken her long to hack her way into the official accounts of Kate Rawlins’ suicide, the ongoing investigation into Jasmine Burton’s presumed suicide and the later addition to the roster – the gas explosion that had killed Daisy Morton. As well as the formal documents, she’d
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