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Finding her voice, she called out. No answer came. The figure disappeared up the slope into the woods. A
Just when she had got back up the slope and was heading for the woods, she heard a car start ahead of her. There were two small car parks, separated by a high hedge, and whoever this was must have been parked in the other one, or A
She put on an extra burst of speed but could only get to the road in time to see the taillights disappearing. Even in the moonlight, all she could tell was that the car was dark in color. She stood there leaning forward, hands resting on her knees, getting her breath back and wondering who the hell could be in such a hurry to escape discovery.
TWELVE
“He asked me to marry him,” Gloria repeated.
“I still don’t believe you,” I said.
“Well, you can ask him yourself. It’s true.”
It was early in the new year, 1945, and I had dropped by Bridge Cottage one evening to see how Gloria was coping. She had had a terrible cold over Christmas – had even missed Alice Poole’s farewell party – and the doctor said she had almost caught pneumonia. Though she was weak and pale and had lost some weight, she seemed to be on the mend.
“You should have seen my nose when he asked me. It was red-raw.”
I laughed. It was good to laugh at something. Christmas that year had been a miserable affair not only because it was the coldest one I could remember, but because the advance that had seemed to be going so well earlier had bogged down in the Arde
“What did you say?” I asked.
“I told him I’d think about it, but he’d have to wait until the war was over, until we could find out for certain about Matt.”
“Do you love him?”
“In a way. Not… Oh, I mean I don’t really think I could ever love anyone like I loved Matt, but Brad and I get on well enough, in and out of bed. I like his company. And he’s good to me. When the war’s over, he wants to take me back to Hollywood with him.”
“It’ll be a new lease on life, I suppose.”
“Yes.”
“And I’ll have someone I can visit out there.”
“You will.”
“But?”
“What do you mean?”
“I still sense a ‘but.’ You only told him you’d think about it.”
“Oh, I don’t know, Gwen. You know I can’t even consider getting married again until the war’s over, for a start. But I will think about it. Oh, look what PX brought me when I was ill. Isn’t he sweet?”
It was a box of chocolates. A bloody box of chocolates! I hadn’t even seen a single chocolate in years. Gloria held out the box. “Please, take one. Take them all, in fact. They’ll only make me fat.”
“What about me?” I asked, picking out the caramel.
“You could do with a bit of meat on your bones.”
I threw the screwed-up wrapper at her. “Cheeky.”
“Well, you could. What about Charlie?”
“Oh, he’s still depressed about Gle
“That’s not what I mean, and you know it. Has he asked you yet?”
I’m sure I blushed. “No,” I said. “We haven’t talked about marriage.”
“Books, that’s all you two ever talk about.”
“It’s not.”
She smiled. “I’m teasing, Gwen. I’m glad you’re happy. Honest, I am.”
“We still haven’t talked about marriage.”
“Well, there’s no hurry, I suppose. But you could do a lot worse. A lawyer! He’ll be rich, just you wait and see.”
“Money isn’t everything.”
“It certainly helps. Anyway, you can go to America, too, and be a rich lawyer’s wife. We can see each other all the time. Have lunch together.”
“Gloria, Boston is miles away from Los Angeles.”
“Is it? Well, at least we’ll be in the same country.”
And so we chatted on about love and marriage and what the future might offer us. Gloria soon recovered her health, and the round of dances, films and pub nights started all over again. February brought the prospect of victory closer and I actually began to believe that we were entering the last spring of the war.
Everything changed one gray afternoon in March, when a tall, gaunt stranger walked down the High Street toward me, struggling against the wind.
Banks really must have had a night on the tiles, A
She fought back the acid-burn of jealousy that curdled in her stomach. Jealousy and suspicion had ruined relationships for her before. Just before Rob got killed she had suspected he was seeing someone else and had consequently treated him badly. She thought she had conquered her feelings by now, thought she had learned detachment, but perhaps she had only put her insecurity on mothballs, along with everything else, since she had transferred to North Yorkshire. It was a frightening thought. Until she had met Banks, she had imagined she was in control, doing just fine.
A
Next, A
Men, A
The fax machine hummed into action. A
As she glanced over the list, A
There might be a simple explanation, of course. Whoever it was may have been more afraid of her than she was of him: a mischievous kid, perhaps. Given everything else they had discovered since Adam Kelly found the Hobb’s End skeleton, however, A
The answer still eluded her. There was nothing left at the site; the SOCOs had been over it thoroughly. Perhaps someone might think there was something there, though. Even so, how could anything buried there incriminate anyone living now? From what A