Declared Dead

'There's no way Edward would ever consent. What about unreasonable behaviour?'

'You mean other than the race fixing? You'll have to keep a record from now on every time he hits you and any other disagreeable piece of conduct. Do you still sleep together?'

'He insists on it. Sexual relations, as they say, are virtually non-existent although he hates the idea of anybody else touching me.'

'And have they?'

'Do I have to answer that one?'

She gave me a quizzical look and continued. 'Well, tell me when you feel ready. You see, the courts aren't too keen to find irretrievable breakdown when the husband and wife are still cohabiting. They do sometimes, but it's pretty unusual.'

'So in a nutshell, my position is hopeless.'

'You make me feel terrible. I'm sorry, I just wish you had told me about this earlier. I could see you weren't happy but I didn't want to pry or do the "I told you so" bit.'

'You're the last person I can blame. To be honest, it's an even bigger mess than it seems. Do you mind if I keep in touch? It helps so much, being able to tell someone.'

'You must tell me,' said Amy firmly. 'And something may just turn up.'

'And I thought an optimistic lawyer was a contradiction in terms! Aren't you meant to be back at work? You said something about a meeting at twelve-thirty.'

Amy glanced at her watch and rose to leave. I kissed her, paid the bill and hurried back by taxi to Paddington. All I wanted to do now was see my little boy.

Chapter 3

I arrived back in the early afternoon and gave Mrs Parsons the rest of the day off. During the National Hunt season, I didn't have a lot of opportunities to play with Freddie and I wanted to make the most of having his undivided attention. We were playing hide and seek when he discovered the diary. He had hidden in his father's huge mahogany wardrobe which, apart from the bed, took up most of the spare room. Edward usually kept it locked, but for some reason had forgotten to take away the key when he had gone out at lunchtime. Freddie handed me the diary as if he had discovered the crown jewels.

'Do you think it's special? Will daddy be pleased with me?'

'Let mummy have a look at it, and then we'll decide.' I gave him some toys to play with and, curiosity getting the better of me, sat down beside the fire and went through it. It was a small, well-worn pocket diary in black leather with Edward's initials embossed on it in gold. It was five years old and to my disappointment the calendar entries merely recorded his appointments or lunch dates and contained no chronicle of his innermost thoughts. I had hoped that I was going to learn something new about my husband.

I flicked through to the back and to the pages intended for addresses and telephone numbers. No names were listed, only sets of initials and against each a figure. Some of the initials had been crossed out and the different coloured inks suggested that the list had been added to and amended over the years. I wondered whether it stood for his investments on the Stock Market or even the bookies to whom he was indebted and decided to make my own list to try and decipher the code when I had more time. I was just going to fetch a pen and paper when Edward returned. It was obvious from his unsteady gait that he had been drinking and I thought I noticed his right hand shaking as he tried to hang up his coat. He kissed Freddie and, ignoring me, moved uncertainly towards the stairs. I decided to go on the attack: 'You had a phone call last night. Some man who wouldn't give his name. He just said that my victory had upset a lot of people. Your bookie, I presume?'

Edward went visibly grey. 'What did he sound like?'

'There was nothing particularly distinctive about his voice. Very flat and matter-of-fact. I didn't get the impression he was best pleased.'

'Did he say anything else?'

'Nothing significant. I'm sure he'll call again.'

'Don't you bloody sneer! You've got me into this mess and now you're going to help me get out of it. If you hadn't tried so hard yesterday, my problems would be over now.'

'I suppose you backed Pride of Limerick, then?'

'There's no need to be so smug. Because you weren't meant to be trying, my bookie laid the world and his wife against Cartwheel winning and was nearly trampled to death in the rush. You could at least have thrown the race in the stewards' room but, oh no, you had to go and claim that Pride of Limerick had taken your ground.'

'How do you know that?'

'None of your god-damned business. I also know it was a majority decision and it was only because you smiled so sweetly at that fool Allsopp you got away with it. You've really done it this time. This particular bookie means business. No one likes dropping a quarter of a million pounds and on top of that he'll expect me to come up with the hundred grand I owe him.'

'A hundred thousand! How the hell have you managed that?'

'Mind your own bloody business.'

'Don't pay. Gambling debts aren't enforceable, you know. The worst they can do is report you to Tattersalls. Although I suppose being warned off wouldn't be good publicity for the son of the Lord Chief Justice.'

'What do you mean?'

'Haven't you heard? Daddy's got the big job.'

'Has he now?' A wicked gleam came into Edward's eyes. I could see he was already plotting something.

'That's the first bit of good news I've had today. Anyway Tatts is out. Those bets are all illegal; I don't pay tax even though they're made off course.'

'So they can't even embarrass you into paying?'

'Don't be so naive. People like this aren't interested in social graces when it comes to collecting. They'll use any method that produces a result. I can see a little holiday is called for.'

He ran up the stairs, only to return two minutes later.

'Have you been nosing around in my wardrobe?'

'No, of course not.'

'Are you sure?' His voice had become markedly more aggressive.

'You know I never…' At that moment Freddie came out of the kitchen where he had been playing.

'Daddy! Has mummy told you about the book we found in your cupboard?'

Edward looked at me and smiled.

'Really darling? How clever of you. I'm sure mummy was just about to hand it over, weren't you, mummy?'

His outstretched hand waited menacingly for me to surrender the diary. Reluctantly I took it from my pocket and handed it over.

'I suppose you couldn't resist reading it,' he snarled as he snatched it from my hand.

I nodded and countered: 'And I suppose you're not going to tell me what the entries at the back stand for?'

He stared at me for a few seconds before replying. I suspected that too much drink was going to loosen his tongue and prompt an indiscretion or a display of vanity. He never could resist an opportunity to show how clever he was.

'Why not? Since you've become my partner in crime there's precious little you can do about it and after all, married couples aren't meant to have any secrets from each other, are they? Freddie darling, go and play in your bedroom for ten minutes will you, whilst I have a little chat with mummy.'

He beckoned me to sit opposite him by the fire while he fingered through the diary. Without showing the slightest trace of embarrassment or regret he started explaining: 'As you've no doubt already gathered, the last few pages are the most interesting. Each of these initials stands for what I call one of my investors, and the figure against his or her name, the amount of their monthly investment.'

'What do you mean, investors? What, for God's sake, are they investing in?'

He grinned mischievously. 'My silence. A very precious commodity indeed.'

I leant over and grabbed the diary from his hand. It was still open at the relevant pages.

'You mean, you're a blackmailer, and these are your victims? You bastard!'

'Cut out the moralising. I can do without lectures on that front from a crooked jockey. I'm only telling you all this to let you know that we're not the only people who do things they shouldn't.'