Part 7 (1/2)

Amanda sniffed. 'b.l.o.o.d.y unfriendly.'

Gwen watched the bulky figure of Amanda retreat up the twisty street and then turned resolutely in the direction of the pub. Unfriendly sounded perfect. She could cope with the ghosts if n.o.body living spoke to her for the next half an hour.

Gwen finished a ploughman's lunch and half a lager and read the newspaper. She was feeling a great deal warmer towards the town. The pub was the kind she liked. It had traditional decor with a few old photographs and horse bra.s.ses on the walls, scarred wooden tables and benches and an open fire in the front room.

She'd even enjoyed the surly service from the barman; it made her feel more comfortable than anything else in Pendleford so far. It felt somehow more honest, which was probably a sad reflection on her life so far.

Gwen left her plate and gla.s.s on the bar on her way past. The barman rewarded her with an almost-smile. The front room had filled up in the time she'd been eating, but Gwen noticed Cam right away. He was eating alone, a paperback book splayed open next to his plate.

Gwen hesitated. She wanted to walk straight past, but if he looked up she didn't want to get caught ignoring him. So he hated her. So what? She swallowed, feeling sick. If she was serious about staying in this town, she was going to have to get used to seeing him. She straightened her shoulders and tried to arrange her face into a relaxed expression.

He looked up.

Gwen forced herself forward. Breezy. Just breeze past. Breezily.

'h.e.l.lo.'

'I just had lunch.' Gwen motioned to the back room.

Cam nodded, his expression unreadable.

'I'm just going,' Gwen said.

'So I see.' Cam looked like a spectacularly bad day had just got worse. Well, she'd just walk on out of there and relieve his stress.

'Where are you running off to?' Cam said, his face perfectly still.

'I'm not running,' Gwen said with dignity. 'I'm leaving you in peace.' This cold politeness was unnerving. She hadn't expected much after their last meeting, but there wasn't so much as a flicker of warmth. Gwen blinked. Her insides suddenly felt hollow.

'Nice to see you,' he said. Then, as if they were perfect strangers, 'Welcome to Pendleford, again. Do call my office if you need anything.'

Gwen got the h.e.l.l out before she pushed his cool, calm, collected face into his lunch.

On the way home, she called into the big chemist to stock up on essentials. She was filling her basket with three-for-two offers and trying to block out the Christmas music, when she spotted a familiar face. Marilyn Dixon. Lurking behind the perfume counter. There were dark circles under her eyes; purple shadows visible through the mask of pale beige make-up. Gwen felt a stab of guilt. She shouldn't have left things the way she did. She should've been nicer. More sympathetic.

Gwen waited for the queue to empty, then took her basket up to Marilyn's till.

For a moment she thought Marilyn wouldn't recognise her, but then she said, 'Iris used to make all her own stuff. Body lotion and toothpaste. She said you couldn't trust the chemicals.'

'Won't you get in trouble for saying that here?' Gwen was aiming for humour, but Marilyn didn't smile. 'Watch out for the botanical range. It brought me out in a rash.'

'Right. Thank you.'

There was a pause, punctuated by the beep of the scanner.

'I'm sorry if I was rude last night,' Gwen said.

'That's all right,' Marilyn said stiffly. 'It must've seemed very odd, my coming to you like that.'

'Well-'

'I don't know what I was thinking. I don't know what I'm doing any more.' Marilyn rammed a tube of hand cream deep into a carrier bag. 'It's not been an easy time for me.'

'I'm sorry.'

Marilyn added the cotton buds, lip balm and moisturiser to the bag.

'If you want to talk-' Gwen began awkwardly.

'I have friends,' Marilyn said defensively. A furtive look crossed her face. 'And I went to see your neighbour instead. She was very helpful.'

'Oh. Good,' Gwen said. 'My neighbour?'

'She said it'll make Brian come to his senses.'

'What will?'

Marilyn bagged the last item a a lipstick Gwen had picked up on impulse a and gave Gwen a sickly smile. 'Thank you for shopping with us today.'

Gwen braved the cold to spend some time sorting through her stock in the back of Nanette. She knew she ought to be making plans; working out what she was going to do about her business, money, her future. Instead, Cam's carefully polite expression and Marilyn-b.l.o.o.d.y-Dixon's voice kept popping into her mind. What did she mean by 'come to his senses'? And why had she looked so tired and sad? With fingers that were too numb to open any more boxes, Gwen headed into the house. She ate some bread and jam and drank a gla.s.s of wine. Perhaps it was her imagination, but the house seemed just as cold as the van. Trying not to think about Cam or the business or Marilyn or anything at all, Gwen retreated to bed. She pulled up all of the blankets and quilts and, within moments, fell asleep.

Gwen snapped awake. The room was freezing, but she knew a noise had woken her up. She listened, ears straining. There was a m.u.f.fled thump and her heart d.a.m.n near jumped out of her mouth. She pushed down the fear and forced herself to switch on the lamp. The cat stalked out from the end of the bed and picked his way to the door. Relief flooded her system. 'b.l.o.o.d.y cat!' He paused at the door but didn't turn around. Gwen took a deep breath and willed her hammering heart to slow. She knew she wasn't going to fall back asleep any time soon, so she swung her legs out of bed. Her Sudoku book was downstairs. A few minutes struggling with the 'super-hard' level puzzles was usually enough to cure any insomnia. It was cold and she pulled on her dressing-gown and slippers. 'I'm on my way,' she said to the impatient cat, who stood by the door. She readied herself for him to squeeze past her, but instead he wound around her legs, like he was trying to imitate clothing. 'Not now, Cat.'

He kept up the furry ankle-socks impression all the way down the stairs until she said, 'You win. I'll feed you.' The words died in her throat as she saw a detail that was all wrong. The back door was ajar. She went cold all over and then liquid with fear as the door clicked shut. Someone had just left her house. At two o'clock in the morning.

Chapter 5.

Gwen slipped back into the hallway, heart thudding, and dialled 999. An oddly rational part of her brain observed her doing this. You've never rung the emergency services before, the calm part of her brain said. Apart from that one time, an unhelpful section piped up. Down by the river. A bloated white face. Black water weeds tangled around his neck. Gwen squashed the memory back down, ignoring the sickness that came with it as best she could. Don't think about that. No time. Look, now you're giving your address. Aren't you doing well?

The woman on the line said that someone would be there very soon. Gwen went back upstairs and locked herself and Cat in the bathroom, her ear pressed to the door to listen and her mobile phone gripped in one hand. Six minutes later, the doorbell rang and she went back downstairs. Blue lights were strobing through the gla.s.s panel at the top of the door and she opened the door to a six-foot tall policewoman, her male partner dwarfed beside her.

Gwen gave a swift recap, showing the now-completely-shut back door and waiting while both PCs checked the garden, the gates, and down the road. She was proud of how calm she was being until the policeman a PC Davies a suggested that she sit down and put her head between her knees for a moment and she realised that her peripheral vision had entirely disappeared.

'Quiet up here,' PC Green said, tactfully ignoring the fact that Gwen had her head at floor level and was taking deep breaths.

Gwen sat up slowly and the kitchen tilted. She swallowed. 'Yes.'

'Nice.' Green looked around. She had brown hair in a high ponytail and discreetly chic make-up. She looked capable and grown up and, even if she hadn't been wearing a uniform, Gwen would've trusted her.

'Have you lived here long?'

Gwen explained about her aunt and the inheritance. 'It's all been quite strange.'

'So, you've been a bit disorientated?'

'Well...' Gwen said.