Part 18 (2/2)

'No, but I'll take you.'

Theo told a waiting taxi to go away and we set off in my car.

'How can you manage with a briefcase that small? I go around with shopping bags full of papers crammed into my saddlebag.'

Theo shook his head.

'It's a waste of s.p.a.ce as it is. In five years I'll have something the size and weight of a credit card.'

'I keep losing my credit card.'

'I'm afraid that the information revolution hasn't got anything yet to deal with your brain, my dear. You want to go left ahead and then right.'

'I know the way,' I said irritably. 'You weren't very nice about our constabulary were you?'

'It's the sort of thing that makes people sit up, isn't it?'

There was a short silence and I waited, hoping that Theo wouldn't change the subject but not daring to take the plunge. I had to.

'Theo, what are you up to with Helen Auster?'

There was no reaction but the pause was a few beats too long.

'What do you mean?'

'Oh, come on, Theo, I'm not blind.'

I saw his grip on his case tighten.

'Oh, you know, it's something about women in uniform, isn't it?'

'Helen Auster doesn't wear a uniform.'

'Not literally, but she wears a metaphorical uniform. There's something erotic about symbols of authority yielding and being conquered.'

I didn't know where to begin.

'Theo, this is a woman involved in the investigation of your sister's murder.'

'Come off it, Jane. n.o.body's going to solve Natalie's murder. The investigation is a farce. There is no evidence. Nothing's going to happen.'

'Am I missing something, Theo? I thought you were married. Where does Frances fit into all this?'

Theo turned to me with a secure smile.

'What do you want me to say, Jane? That my wife doesn't understand me? This isn't a debating society.'

'And isn't Helen Auster married?'

'To the supermarket manager, yes. I haven't noticed any signs of reluctance on her part.' I glanced at his face. He had a faint smile that seemed to challenge, even taunt me. 'Helen is a pa.s.sionate woman, Jane. Very uninhibited, with a bit of encouragement.'

'Are you going to leave Frances?'

'No, it's just a bit of fun.'

It had been horribly easy. I felt nauseous, but I couldn't stop myself from continuing.

'I saw Chrissie Pilkington the other day. Well, she's not called Pilkington any more.'

'Yes?'

'She mentioned your name.'

'What's all this about?'

'She was an old flame of yours. After your father had finished with her.'

'Briefly.' There was a pause. 'Are you all right, Jane?'

'What do you mean?'

'Do you want to know what I mean?' Theo said, angry now for the first time. 'I'm trying to remember who was my flame as you put it after Chrissie? I wonder who that was?' He looked around agitatedly. We were totally stuck in Gower Street. 'I'll walk from here or get a taxi. Thanks for the lift.'

He opened the car, got out and walked quickly away. I sat, stuck in traffic, furious and shamed.

Twenty-Four.

I was in the bath when the phone rang. I turned the hot tap off with my toe, sank back into the foam, and listened. I'd forgotten to switch the answering machine on. Should I bother to answer it? If I got out of the bath now, it would stop before I reached it. But it went on ringing stubbornly. I pulled myself out of the water, which suddenly seemed irresistible, wrapped a towel around my boiled body, and ran to the bedroom.

'h.e.l.lo.'

'Jane, it's Fred.'

'Fred? I haven't heard from you for...'

'It's Martha. She's going.'

'Going?'

'She's dying Jane, she's dying fast. She wants to see you. She asked me to bring you with me. I'm going tomorrow, crack of dawn.'

'Shouldn't we go straight away?'

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