Sarah made her weekly phone call to her mother, who, true to form, had failed to call and congratulate her on being re-elected. Mum had been angry with Sarah for taking a year out to become Union President and had supported none of her career choices since. All Mum wanted was to be a grandmother. Sarah was her only, fast-fading chance. They stuttered through a few minutes of strained conversation.
‘Guess who showed up at my post-election party?’ Sarah said, before she was forced to return to discussing the unseasonably warm weather. ‘Nick Cane.’
‘I always liked Nick. Is he still in Nottingham?’
‘He’s just moved back.’
‘I suppose he’s married now, with lots of children.’
‘No, same old Nick. A little heavier, not much more mature. Single.’
‘Just like you, then. You ought to snap him up.’
‘I’ve been thinking about it,’ Sarah confessed. Was still thinking about it, despite what Andrew had said earlier. ‘He’s cooking dinner for me tonight.’
‘Did he stay in teaching?’ Mum asked.
‘I think so. We haven’t really discussed work.’ Nick had said something about private tuition, Sarah remembered. He was working this afternoon, so he wasn’t a complete no-hoper. One could even argue that he was a good project for rehabilitation.
‘Take my advice. Make your move. Second chances don’t come often.’
‘I’ll bear that in mind, Mum.’ She brought the call to a close, feeling foolish that she’d brought up Nick to keep her mother interested. Then the doorbell rang and Nick was there. It was a little after five. Early to be cooking her dinner.
‘I thought you’d want to know,’ he said. ‘Ed Clark’s compensation came through. He’s off on holiday for three weeks from tomorrow.’
‘With Polly?’
‘I presume so. He’s working until eight tonight. So, if you want to see her, the next couple of hours may be your only chance.’
‘Will you come with me?’
Nick winced. ‘I’d have thought my presence would make the meeting even more awkward. Polly’s no threat on her own. Why don’t I stay here, cook you that dinner?’
Sarah saw the sense in that. She showed Nick where things were in the kitchen then drove to New Basford alone. How to play this? As a copper, like most coppers, she’d had aspirations to join CID. But she’d barely got beyond her probationary period, and her interrogation training had been minimal. She was cleverer than Polly, or at least, more educated. Their last conversation had been interrupted by Ed’s return. Sarah needed to dig deeper into Polly’s motives. She ought to be able to catch her out.
‘I wondered when you’d show your face again,’ Polly said, letting Sarah in. ‘How did you know he’d be out?’
‘Nick checked his shift.’
‘You and him, back on, is it?’ Polly said, her back to Sarah, voice almost cracking. ‘Ed told me you used to shack up together.’
‘We’re old friends, that’s all,’ Sarah said, not wanting to stir up any latent jealousy.
‘That’s why he went home with you t’other night, is it? Rodney told Ed and Ed told me. You won, I hear.’
‘Yeah, I won. Nick saw me home.’
‘And you’ll be taking him to London with you.’
‘I don’t think so,’ Sarah said. ‘I hear you’re off to the Caribbean with Ed.’
‘Do you see any bags packed?’
Sarah looked around. The place was the usual mess. A copy of Hello lay open on the ironing board. Dirty mugs and sweet-wrappers were strewn around the carpet. But there were no summer clothes waiting to be ironed, no suitcases.
‘He’s not taking you?’
‘If it’d been just me, he might have done. Sex on tap for three weeks. I’d have had to get a passport first, mind. But me and four kids? Ed’s far too selfish.’
‘You said he got on well with the kids.’
‘I lied. I’m good at lying. Maybe I should be in your job.’
‘Is he coming back?’ Sarah asked.
‘Tonight? Doubt it. He’s got an early flight. From holiday? Your guess is as good as mine. Why are you here, anyhow? To show off that you’ve got Nick back and I’m on my tod again?’
‘No, I . . .’ Sarah tried to remember the argument. ‘Since I’m going back to Parliament, I needed to know about your case. I’ve spent three years trying to get Ed out, get the case reopened. Do you want me to carry on, to push the police to find the real killer or killers?’
‘I don’t know what I want.’
‘You told me that Ed convinced you he didn’t do it. But if Ed didn’t kill them, somebody else did. Have you any idea who?’
‘I’m not going to do the police’s job for them, or yours,’ Polly said. ‘I just want this to go away. I want Ed to stay away too.’
‘If he went back to prison . . .’
‘Oh, fuck off, will you!’ Polly raised her voice for the first time. ‘You and me, we’re both frightened of Ed. We’ve both done things we shouldn’t have done, ’cos of him. I hope he never comes back. I’ve got nothing. You’ve got Nick. You’ve got your job back. You’ve got it all.’
‘I want to help.’
‘Help? You’re the one got Ed out of prison.’
‘The appeal court did that. The evidence against him wasn’t safe. Look, Polly, if you know who did it, then you owe it to your brother to see them prosecuted. Don’t you?’
‘You want to know who was really responsible for Terry’s death?’ Polly spat. ‘It was his own fault.’
‘His?’
‘If it weren’t for Terry, nothing would’ve happened.’
‘What do you . . .?’
‘Just fuck off, will you?’
When Sarah got in, Nick told her that the phone had been ringing.
‘Your mobile too. I let the machine take it, like you asked. How did you find her?’
‘Different.’ Sarah summed up the conversation, including the thing Polly said about her brother.
‘You think she’s split up with Ed?’
‘I don’t know. I don’t know if she knows. The way she talked, Ed might not be coming back. What got to me, though, was the way she talked about Terry being responsible for the murders. I mean, if she thought that before, why did she protest so hard about Ed’s release?’
‘Ed must have told her something that convinced her.’
‘Anyway, that’s it. Over. We’ll never know what really happened.’
‘That doesn’t sound like you,’ Nick told her.
‘Call it realpolitik. How’s dinner coming along?’
‘I can put the steak on whenever you want. Then it’ll be ten minutes or so.’
‘Make it soon. I’m starving.’
While Nick cooked, she went to the machine. She had eleven messages waiting, but before she could check them, the phone rang.
‘Sarah, I find you in at last.’ It was the Chief Whip.
‘Sorry, I was out on constituency business, case work.’
‘That’s what local councillors are for. You’d better find some tame, reliable ones quickly, you’ll be needing them. I’m calling on behalf of the Prime Minister. He wants to offer you a job.’
Sarah was to be a Junior Minister. That was a huge deal. As soon as she’d put down the phone, and told him, Nick knew their chances of being together were over.
He congratulated her. ‘That’s an incredibly responsible job. You were made to do it.’
‘There were hints I’d get something, but I was so sure that I’d lose my seat, I didn’t let myself think about them.’ She told him how the job fitted with the areas she’d concentrated on in the Commons. She felt vindicated for campaigning to stop the spread of HIV in prisons. ‘I guess even the Ed Clark thing helped.’
‘I suppose.’ He had to say something, so chose his words carefully. ‘That’s it for us, isn’t it? I’m too big a risk. The quicker I go, the better.’