‘Thank you,’ was all that I said, and I smiled at him brightly. I had a vague feeling I may have guessed what the true purpose of this visit was and I was damned if I was going to help the bugger.
‘Right,’ said Todd, and he shifted uneasily from one foot to another, his face slightly flushed. Clever yes, smooth no, that was Todd Mallett.
‘Something I can do for you,’ I said eventually.
‘No, no, no,’ he said in an effusive sort of way. Then eventually, and so casually his manner just had to be forced, he came to what I am sure had been the point of his visit in the first place.
‘The big day approaches, then,’ he said in tones of rather forced jollity, I thought.
I nodded.
‘Quite a wedding it’s going to be, I hear,’ he went on.
‘We hope so,’ I said.
‘Yes, of course.’ He hesitated then eventually blurted out what I had no doubt he had come to say. ‘Be careful, Rose, won’t you? There’s still a lot about Robin Davey we’ve never got to the bottom of, you know.’
I was angry, although I tried not to show it. My husband-to-be was a fine man whose entire life had been beyond reproach until the drowning of Natasha Felks off his island — and what seemed to me now to have been a concerted campaign to link him with her death had failed dismally. At that moment I could not understand how anyone could continue to doubt Robin. His behaviour towards the Abri islanders, whom he seemed to me to have considered above his personal interests throughout the saga of leasing the island further demonstrated the kind of man he was. Robin had high standards and unshakeable principles. As my wedding approached I had come to regard him as possibly the most admirable human being I had ever known. I loved him, I loved his family, and I resented anyone who dared question him and all that I believed that he stood for.
‘That’s because there’s nothing to get to the bottom of, sir,’ I said in level tones.
‘I hope you’re right, Rose,’ Todd responded, and he didn’t look embarrassed any more now that he had taken the plunge — just intent on saying his piece. ‘You are a senior police officer and you could find yourself in an impossible situation one of these fine days, that’s what I’m afraid of.’
‘You’ve nothing to be afraid of any more than I have, sir,’ I said, and I could no longer keep the edge out of my voice. ‘I know all too well that Robin has been the subject of an investigation and I also know that investigation failed to incriminate him in any way, as it was sure to, and is now closed. Isn’t that right, sir?’
‘Yes, Rose, that’s quite right,’ Mallett replied. He was a man who knew when he was getting nowhere. He smiled at me enigmatically, turned on his heel and walked towards the door where he paused and looked back over his shoulder. He was no longer smiling.
‘Just take care, Rose, that’s all,’ he said. ‘We are all very fond of you, you know.’ He left then, shutting my door behind him.
I thought he had a bloody cheek and I had absolutely no intention of letting his meddling spoil my happiness. I muttered a few mild obscenities to myself, picked up the file he had left on my desk and dumped it straight in my too-difficult drawer, so sure was I that I would have no use for it.
It was arranged that I would take a week’s leave for my wedding and a brief honeymoon in the South of France. Chief Superintendent Titmuss decided to take over as SIO of the Stephen Jeffries’ case himself while I was away, which I found highly disconcerting, but there was nothing I could do about it.
Titmuss uttered the mandatory good wishes when I left the office on the eve of my wedding, and, to his credit I grudgingly admitted to myself, if he shared Todd Mallett’s misgivings about the man I was marrying, he gave no sign of it.
That night I endured the traditional hen party. The girls were mainly colleagues in The Job and, of course, sister Clem and my dear old mate Julia. I was aware of the mixed feelings of many of them. I was marrying a man I had only been with for just over nine months and whose former fiancée had died in mysterious circumstances not long before. But Robin had a high profile in more ways than one. I was moving into another world. I was marrying into the kind of old family of which I had previously had little or no experience. I was leaving my independence behind. There was no question about that. I didn’t know whether it would be possible for me to continue my police career — in spite of Robin’s apparent concern that I did so. The truly crazy thing was that I didn’t even care. As long as I became Mrs Robin Davey the next day I didn’t care about anything.
And, of course, as we drank vast quantities of pretend champagne in a thoroughly disreputable night club into which I was quite sure no police officer should ever venture, nobody mentioned any question mark which might still hang over my intended. The files on the death of Natasha Felks lay hidden in the depths of the Devon and Cornwell Constabulary’s computer system — and at that moment I had no doubt at all that was where they would stay.
Fourteen
My wedding day, Saturday, April 7th, dawned warm, and almost sultry. It was going to be unseasonably hot, I reckoned, just as it had been when I had made my first fateful visit to Abri.
Robin called from the island very early in the morning. He was already there waiting for me, as were many of the guests.
I was to arrive by helicopter just before the ceremony was due to begin, already clad in the white organza wedding dress designed by James’ celebrated friend, which had cost getting on for three months’ salary as a DCI. Obscene really. Both the cost, and, in my case, the colour. But like I said, I was running with the flow. And the whole thing was just so romantic. I was about to literally drop from the sky to marry the man of my dreams. I thought I was in heaven. I knew I was in heaven. I might have known dreams like this one didn’t come true for the likes of me, but for the time being no warning bells were ringing. And Robin was in high humour.
‘The weather’s perfect,’ he began excitedly. ‘The mist will have cleared by midday, and you’re not going to believe it, but there’s hardly any wind today. Abri is showing off, I tell you. So hurry up, darling. I’m missing you. I love you.’
I had only just woken up and I took his call while still in bed sleepily savouring the day ahead.
I told him I loved him too. And by God, I did. I loved him so much that when I was apart from him I felt like only half a human being. I loved him so much that if he died I knew I would kill myself. Life without him could have no point. I loved him so much that I suspected that all my friends and colleagues thought I had taken leave of my senses. And they were probably right.
‘A new day dawns in a new century and a wonderful new beginning for both of us,’ Robin said. His voice was like a warm stream. He kept saying these extraordinary things, which from anyone else would have made me laugh and from him made me want to cry with joy. It was all quite ridiculous. Everything about Robin exceeded my wildest imaginings of what a lover should be.
Just as I was hanging up the bedside phone, my sister Clem wandered into the bedroom. She and my niece had, with the help of extra duvets and lots of pillows, somehow managed to spend the night in the living room. I had politely, if not particularly enthusiastically, offered my bed. Clem said brides didn’t sleep on sofas. She was somewhat dishevelled and looked as if the sleeping arrangements had been as uncomfortable as I had suspected they would be. She was wearing an old dressing gown of mine, and her hair was all over the place. Her eyes were bright and shining. I thought she might be almost as excited as me.