me, she thought. ‘You must have your share of back-sliders, though. I can’t see Matthew sticking to the straight and narrow once he’s away from
here.’
‘I think you’re underestimating him. He’s only been here two weeks, you know. Give him another month and then tell me he won’t make it.’
She looked appalled. ‘A month? How long am I supposed to stay here then?’
‘As long or as short as you like.’
‘That’s not an answer. How long does my father expect you to keep me?’
‘This isn’t a prison, Jinx. I don’t keep anyone.’
‘Then I can leave tomorrow after the bandages have been removed?’
‘Of course you can, subject to what I told you on Wednesday. You’re still not physically fit, so I’d feel duty bound to inform your father that you’d
discharged yourself.’
She smiled faintly. ‘Does that mean I’m mentally fit?’
He shrugged. ‘My impression, for what it’s worth, is that you’re as tough as old boots.’ He leaned forward and studied her face closely. ‘I’m
having some difficulty squaring this rugged self-reliance of yours with the picture the police gave me of a heartbroken, vulnerable woman who drove her car at a wall.’
She pressed a fingertip to her eyelid to hide the awful rush of tears. ‘So am I,’ she said after a moment, ‘but I’ve read the piece in the newspaper over and
over again and I can’t come up with another explanation.’ She lowered her hand to look at him. ‘I phoned Meg’s answer-machine today. I thought if I could only talk to her
and Leo, they could at least tell everyone that I wasn’t upset about him going.’
‘Is that something you can remember?’
‘You mean, not being upset?’ He nodded and she shook her head. ‘No, I’m just so certain that it wouldn’t have worried me.’
‘Why?’
Because it didn’t worry me last time. ‘Because,’ she said out loud, ‘I didn’t want Leo myself.’ She looked away from him, fearful perhaps
of seeing his disbelief. ‘I know it sounds like sour grapes but I’m relieved I don’t have to marry him. I can remember hanging around the studio till all hours just to avoid going
home and spending cosy evenings with him, and I don’t think it was cold feet about the wedding. I was beginning to actively dislike him.’ She gave a hollow laugh. ‘So much for
rugged self-reliance. Why was I marrying someone I didn’t like? It doesn’t make sense.’ She lapsed into a brief silence. ‘It wouldn’t be so bad,’ she said
suddenly, ‘if I didn’t have to keep shoring up my defences.’
‘Against what?’
She pressed her fingertips to her good eye again to shut him out. ‘Fear,’ she said.
He waited a moment. ‘What is there to fear?’
‘I don’t know,’ she murmured. ‘I can’t remember.’
Romsey Road Police Station, Winchester, Hampshire – 7.00 p.m.
Events moved extraordinarily quickly once the bodies were given tentative names and addresses. A telephone call to the Richmond police uncovered the interesting information that 12
Glenavon Gardens had attracted the attention of another branch of the Hampshire police some ten days previously, following a road traffic accident involving Miss Jane Kingsley, the
owner/occupier.
‘You want to speak to a Sergeant Halliwell at Fordingbridge,’ said the voice at the other end to Fraser. ‘He asked us to make some enquiries about Kingsley because
it looked to them like the RTA was a deliberate attempt to kill herself. The gist is, she was engaged to Leo Wallader, who lived with her in Glenavon Gardens for about two months before buggering
off on the night of Friday, the tenth of June, three weeks before the wedding, to shack up with Kingsley’s best friend. We talked to Kingsley’s neighbours who mentioned another suicide
attempt on the Sunday, the twelfth, and also to Wallader’s parents by phone. The information we were given is that Wallader and his new girlfriend have scarpered to the continent
here.’
‘I think you’re underestimating him. He’s only been here two weeks, you know. Give him another month and then tell me he won’t make it.’
She looked appalled. ‘A month? How long am I supposed to stay here then?’
‘As long or as short as you like.’
‘That’s not an answer. How long does my father expect you to keep me?’
‘This isn’t a prison, Jinx. I don’t keep anyone.’
‘Then I can leave tomorrow after the bandages have been removed?’
‘Of course you can, subject to what I told you on Wednesday. You’re still not physically fit, so I’d feel duty bound to inform your father that you’d
discharged yourself.’
She smiled faintly. ‘Does that mean I’m mentally fit?’
He shrugged. ‘My impression, for what it’s worth, is that you’re as tough as old boots.’ He leaned forward and studied her face closely. ‘I’m
having some difficulty squaring this rugged self-reliance of yours with the picture the police gave me of a heartbroken, vulnerable woman who drove her car at a wall.’
She pressed a fingertip to her eyelid to hide the awful rush of tears. ‘So am I,’ she said after a moment, ‘but I’ve read the piece in the newspaper over and
over again and I can’t come up with another explanation.’ She lowered her hand to look at him. ‘I phoned Meg’s answer-machine today. I thought if I could only talk to her
and Leo, they could at least tell everyone that I wasn’t upset about him going.’
‘Is that something you can remember?’
‘You mean, not being upset?’ He nodded and she shook her head. ‘No, I’m just so certain that it wouldn’t have worried me.’
‘Why?’
Because it didn’t worry me last time. ‘Because,’ she said out loud, ‘I didn’t want Leo myself.’ She looked away from him, fearful perhaps
of seeing his disbelief. ‘I know it sounds like sour grapes but I’m relieved I don’t have to marry him. I can remember hanging around the studio till all hours just to avoid going
home and spending cosy evenings with him, and I don’t think it was cold feet about the wedding. I was beginning to actively dislike him.’ She gave a hollow laugh. ‘So much for
rugged self-reliance. Why was I marrying someone I didn’t like? It doesn’t make sense.’ She lapsed into a brief silence. ‘It wouldn’t be so bad,’ she said
suddenly, ‘if I didn’t have to keep shoring up my defences.’
‘Against what?’
She pressed her fingertips to her good eye again to shut him out. ‘Fear,’ she said.
He waited a moment. ‘What is there to fear?’
‘I don’t know,’ she murmured. ‘I can’t remember.’
Romsey Road Police Station, Winchester, Hampshire – 7.00 p.m.
Events moved extraordinarily quickly once the bodies were given tentative names and addresses. A telephone call to the Richmond police uncovered the interesting information that 12
Glenavon Gardens had attracted the attention of another branch of the Hampshire police some ten days previously, following a road traffic accident involving Miss Jane Kingsley, the
owner/occupier.
‘You want to speak to a Sergeant Halliwell at Fordingbridge,’ said the voice at the other end to Fraser. ‘He asked us to make some enquiries about Kingsley because
it looked to them like the RTA was a deliberate attempt to kill herself. The gist is, she was engaged to Leo Wallader, who lived with her in Glenavon Gardens for about two months before buggering
off on the night of Friday, the tenth of June, three weeks before the wedding, to shack up with Kingsley’s best friend. We talked to Kingsley’s neighbours who mentioned another suicide
attempt on the Sunday, the twelfth, and also to Wallader’s parents by phone. The information we were given is that Wallader and his new girlfriend have scarpered to the continent
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