The Loyal Servant (31 page)

43

Friday morning and half of Friday afternoon came and went with no sign of the police forensics people.

Caroline spent most of the day watching the street from the living room window, looking out for unfamiliar vehicles or pedestrians lingering where they shouldn’t be. Every time she heard the roar of an approaching motorbike she ran into the front garden, expecting to see two besuited thugs cruising up the road. She hadn’t worked out what she would do if they did appear, but kept the poker propped up against the wall by the front door just in case.

Just after 3:30pm she heard a key rattle in the lock. The front door opened and her mother stepped wearily inside.

‘Where’s Ben?’ Caroline peered around Jean and saw the garden path was empty. ‘What’s happened?’

‘It’s all right – he’s just outside.’

‘You left him on his own on the street?’ She pushed her mother out of the way.

‘He’s not on his own!’ Jean hollered after her.

Caroline pulled up sharply at the garden gate when she saw Pete swinging Ben over his shoulder and spinning him round, his skinny legs flying. Ben was actually giggling.
Thank God.
He’d cried himself to sleep the night before. There was nothing she could say to console him.

Jean joined her on the path. ‘He was waiting on the corner of the street when I arrived. Are you going to invite him inside?’

Should she?

‘Have the police come yet – to dust for fingerprints or whatever it is they do?’

Caroline didn’t take her eyes off Ben. Pete was tickling him now.

‘I’m still waiting for them. I get put on hold every time I call.’

Jean clucked her tongue against her teeth. ‘What do we pay our taxes for?’ She moved away. ‘I’ll put the kettle on. Shall I make tea for him too?’ She nodded at Pete. ‘Is he stopping?’

Again, Caroline didn’t know how to answer.

‘You still haven’t told me the real reason he left. That story about his sister being poorly might be OK for the kids, but you can’t fool me. I could just ask him, I suppose.’

‘Not now, Mum.’

Jean threw up her hands. ‘All right. Keep me in the bloody dark.’ She muttered something under her breath as she walked away.

Caroline wandered slowly out onto the street.

‘Hello, sweetie. Gran’s in the kitchen – why don’t you ask her for a glass of milk and a biscuit?’

Pete stopped tickling his son and lowered him onto the ground. Ben was breathless and pink-cheeked. ‘Go on,’ Pete said. ‘Your mum and me need to talk.’ Pete pushed gently against Ben’s shoulders and coaxed him towards the house. ‘Ask Gran if I can have one of those biscuits.’ He turned to Caroline. ‘Why didn’t you call me when it happened? I should have been here last night.’

Caroline looked up into his face and narrowed her eyes. ‘Who told you about it?’

‘Jean phoned me this morning.’

‘She did what?’

‘I know, it surprised me too.’

‘She had no business doing that.’

‘For God’s sake, Caz.’ He clamped his big hands on her shoulders. ‘They’re my kids too. I should have been here, looking after them.’

Caroline threw her head back, and sucked in a breath, trying to stay calm. She ducked away from him. ‘I was going to call you later. I’ve had a lot on my mind.’

‘That’s no excuse.’ He reached out a hand and held her arm. ‘We can’t talk out here. Let’s go inside.’

‘I’m not sure that’s such a good idea. The kids have been through enough – I don’t want you confusing them.’

‘You’re the one who’s keeping me away.’

‘Have you been drinking?’

‘We’re back to that again, are we?’

‘Have you?’

Pete let go of her arm.

‘I’ll take that as a yes.’

‘I haven’t had a drink since you threw me out. Ask Denise.’

‘Denise? Your sister would say anything you asked her to.’

‘It’s the truth.’

‘I’ve only got your word for that – at the moment it doesn’t count for much.’

‘I want to come home, Caz. We’ve been through rocky patches before – we always come out the other side.’

‘This is different.’

‘You can’t do this to us. To the family.’

‘Me? You’re the one who can’t tell the difference between right and wrong. Not much of a role model for the kids, are you?’

Pete sniffed. ‘The kids don’t need to know anything about what happened at work. They won’t hear it from me. Come on, Caz – we can work this out.’

Her reached out for her, but she stepped quickly away and ended up stumbling into the gutter. The curtain at a window across the street jerked back and Caroline’s neighbour stared right at her.

‘Let’s go inside. I’m not putting on a floorshow for number 24.’

Jean was emerging from the kitchen, drying her hands on a tea towel, when they reached the front door. ‘Someone from your office just called… Pam I think she said her name was.’

‘What did she want?’

‘She asked me to ask you what you wanted to do with all your personal stuff. Whether you wanted it parcelled up and posted on. When I asked her what she meant she got a bit vague and hung up. What was she talking about?’

Caroline poked her head into the kitchen. Ben was cramming a Jaffa Cake into his mouth, staring intently at a Harry Potter DVD playing on the television on the kitchen counter.

‘Best to keep him distracted, I thought,’ Jean said.

Caroline plodded into the living room, gesturing for Pete and her mother to follow her. She righted an armchair and threw the cushions back on the sofa. ‘You’d better sit down,’ she said. ‘It’s a long story.’

By the time she’d finished telling them the details of her suspension and everything that led up to it, she felt exhausted.

‘Have you spoken to the union rep?’ Jean asked.

Caroline shook her head, unable to make eye contact with her mother.

‘Really they should have been your first port of call as soon as all this blew up. It’s not too late to get them involved now though. If you don’t feel up to it, I can speak to them for you.’

‘You don’t have to fight my battles for me, Mum.’

‘I just want to help. Twenty years your father was shop steward. I do have some experience in this sort of thing, you know.’

Caroline wrinkled her nose.

‘What is it, don’t you trust me to say the right thing?’

‘Just leave it, Mum.’

‘But I can help.’

‘No – you can’t. And neither can the union. I let my subs lapse. I haven’t been a member for a couple of years.’

‘What?’

Caroline finally met her mother’s gaze.

‘Your father would be turning in his grave. After everything he taught you. How could you?’

‘For God’s sake, Mum – there’s no need to bring Dad into it!’

A loud bang on the front door jerked Caroline out of her seat, grateful to get away from her mother’s questions. ‘That’ll be the forensics team, I expect.’

She ran to the door yanked it open. Her mother’s friend, Albert, was standing in the front path. She led him into the living room.

‘Oh my Lord,’ Jean said when she saw him. ‘I completely forgot you were coming.’

‘Am I the first to arrive?’ Albert looked around the room. ‘Goodness – what happened in here? It looks like a bomb’s gone off.’

Jean led Albert through to the door at the back of the living room and into her annexe. She glanced back over her shoulder. ‘Don’t think I’ve finished with you, madam.’

‘God give me strength,’ Caroline murmured under her breath.

The front door opened and closed. Caroline rushed back into the hall to see Claire standing by the coat rack, shrugging off her blazer.

‘Could you go and sit with Ben for a while? He’s in the kitchen.’

‘I’ve got a ton of revision to do.’

‘Please, Claire.’

Pete appeared in the hall. ‘Come on Claire – do what your mum says.’

‘You’re back! Is Dennie feeling better, now?’

‘Denise?’

Caroline jabbed him in the ribs with a sharp elbow. ‘Auntie Dennie’s much better, isn’t she, Pete?’

‘Er… almost fully recovered.’ Pete watched Claire disappear into the kitchen.

‘What did you tell them?’

‘Your sister’s had an operation. You’re looking after her.’

‘And they believed you?’

‘Just play along if they ask you. OK?’

‘I can’t go on lying to them. We need to sort this out. Why don’t I stay over? I’d feel much better being here, keeping an eye on them.’

‘Would you?’

‘I can sleep on the sofa. I just want to be near.’

There was another knock on the door. Caroline reached for the latch, expecting to see a man in a paper romper suit holding a Metropolitan Police toolbox in his hand.

It was Angela Tate.

‘What are you doing here? I’ve already told you… I can’t help anymore.’

‘I came as soon as I heard the news. I tried calling, but your phone must be switched off.’ She marched straight into the living room. ‘Still waiting for forensics to show?’ She looked around the room. ‘You know it’s entirely possible they’ve got no intention of sending anyone out. Depends how far their tentacles have reached.’ She turned to Pete and stuck out a hand. ‘Hello, I’m Angela Tate.’

‘Angela’s the journalist I just told you about… this is Pete, my…’

Pete took Tate’s proffered hand in his. ‘The word she’s looking for is
husband
,’ he said.

‘Pleasure.’ Tate sank onto the sofa. ‘I went home after I left here yesterday afternoon and called out a locksmith to fix my door. Then I threw a few things in a bag and legged it. I’ve set up home in a nice big anonymous Novotel in west London. They’ll never find me there.’

‘Who’s after you?’ Pete sat down next to Tate.

‘How much have you told him?’ Tate turned to Caroline.

‘I was getting there.’

‘Who’s after me? Take your pick. My boss… the police… secret service, CIA…’ She let out a breath. ‘Any chance you could find a glass and a bottle of something comforting in this mess? I feel like I need a stiff one.’

‘Pete – there’s a bottle of brandy from last Christmas in the cupboard next to the cooker.’

‘There isn’t,’ he said quietly. ‘I finished it.’ He smiled at Tate. ‘Coffee or tea?’

‘Coffee – strong, black, two sugars.’

Tate waited for Pete to leave the room before speaking. ‘Haven’t you seen the news?’

‘What’s happened?’

‘The secretary of state has made a statement.’

‘Mentioning me?’

‘No. As far as her statement goes, you’re still an unnamed senior civil servant.’

‘Senior?’

‘Congratulations on your belated promotion.’ Tate smiled. ‘No – the S-O-S has taken the opportunity to reiterate how seriously the department takes data protection. How the loss of the CD-ROM is an aberration, how it will never happen again… yadda bleeding yadda. How you can’t judge an entire administration by one rogue employee—’

‘Rogue… me?’

‘I know – it just gets better and better, doesn’t it?’ She took a breath. ‘Anyway she said all that and then hit the assembled hacks with the punchline none of them was expecting.’

‘What?’

‘She took one for the team. She’s fallen on her sword.’

‘You’re not serious.’

‘Deadly. Meanwhile William King is laughing all the way to the polls.’ Tate leaned her head on the back on the sofa, then quickly lifted it away again. ‘Oh… I’m not contaminating a crime scene, am I?’

‘I think we may have moved beyond that by now, don’t you?’

‘In that case.’ Tate kicked off her shoes and drew her feet up onto the cushion. ‘God I’m exhausted.’

‘Sitting in a hotel room watching CNN?’

‘I’ve been working my arse off since you last saw me, trying to track down some of the families affected by the health and safety violations on that list of yours.’

‘You found a another copy of the document?’ Caroline leaned forward in her chair.

‘Alas, no. But I can still retain a few important facts.’ She tapped her temple. ‘Hasn’t turned to mush just yet.’

‘And?’

‘Not much, unfortunately. I managed to get the contact details for two of the families. Both widows refused to tell me anything about the settlements they’d reached with the companies. It seems they’ve signed some sort of gagging order. It was the only way they could get their hands on any financial compensation. I would imagine that’s true of most of the names on the list.’

‘Did you explain how important it was? What’s at stake?’

‘They didn’t want to listen. They sounded scared, Caroline. Terrified.’

Pete came back into the room balancing three overfilled mugs on a tray.