‘I’m surprised she let you in,’ Jane snapped, making her way past him.
‘I do have a warrant card, you know, Tennison, and I gave her some bull about checking out your burglar alarm, and that I was expecting you back any minute. I’ve been sitting here waiting for you for over half an hour.’
Jane unlocked her front door and Stanley followed her inside, picking up an overnight bag he had left on the landing.
‘There’s SPG outside. Surely you don’t need to be here all night?’ Jane asked.
‘I can doss down on the sofa. It’s just an extra precaution… and I’ll take you to work in the morning.’
‘Just for the one night?’
‘Depends… this is nice…’
‘I don’t have a sofa, but there’s a small spare bedroom along the corridor, on your right.’
Jane was now very tense, and also angry. She watched Stanley saunter along the narrow corridor and push open the door to her own bedroom.
‘No, that’s my bedroom.’
‘Just checking it out for safety.’
Jane took off her coat, watching as Stanley crossed to the window in her bedroom, which overlooked the road below. He shone his torch twice to signal to the still-waiting Church that he was inside and all was well.
‘This is really very nice…’ he repeated, as he walked out. Now that she’d calmed down, Jane forced herself to offer him a cup of tea.
‘Lovely… and if you can rustle up a sandwich that’d be great,’ he replied, as he went into the spare room. Jane grimaced. She wished she could ask him to take a bath, as he smelt terrible. But instead she went into the kitchen and put on the kettle.
After a few minutes, Stanley joined her and perched on a stool.
‘Nice little place… compact, though, and a hell of a long walk up. Do you have a TV?’
‘No, I don’t. I’ve only just moved in.’ Jane buttered two slices of bread and took out a packet of ham from the fridge.
‘You having one?’ Stanley asked, rolling up a cigarette.
‘Yes, but I can only make one at a time. Do you want mustard?’
‘Yep, and two sugars in my tea.’
Jane took out some cups and made the sandwiches while the kettle came to the boil. Stanley watched her preparing the tea as he finished assembling his roll-up and put it down in front of him. They eventually sat next to each other and used the same teaspoon to remove the teabags from their cups, placing them on a saucer.
‘When I’ve finished this,’ said Jane, ‘I’m going to have a bath. Perhaps you might like one after me?’
‘No, I’m OK, thanks.’
Stanley was wearing filthy jeans and an old torn T-shirt, both of which looked, and smelt, as though they hadn’t been washed in weeks. She had a lot of questions she wanted to ask, uppermost was why DCI Church had wanted Stanley to be in her flat.
‘Do you think that there could be repercussions about what went down at the press conference?’ she asked Stanley.
‘Possibly.’
‘Does that also mean that it might affect my family?’
‘It might, but that’ll be taken care of… it depends what reaction we get after today.’
‘Should I warn them?’
‘I wouldn’t. Why put the frighteners on them when it might not be necessary? If it is, then they’ll be well protected, but it’s best not to sound the alarm bells. This is a good sandwich,’ he mumbled through a mouth full of food.
‘Is DCI Church married?’ Jane asked.
‘He was. Got divorced a few years ago. He had a right time of it… she was a real bitch and went off with an electrician who was rewiring their house. Actually, she didn’t leave… she stayed and Church moved out. But he doesn’t like talking about it. I’ve probably said too much, but he’s a really good guy. I like him.’
Stanley lit his roll-up as Jane took their plates to the sink.
‘What about DS Dexter from the bomb squad. Do you know him?’
‘Course I do, everyone knows Al. And if you’re interested in him, he’s not married.’
‘I’m not interested in him, for heaven’s sake!’
‘Well, that’s probably a good thing because he’s got quite a reputation with women. If you ask me, out of the two of them Jimmy is the better man.’
‘I was only asking because I work with them, that’s all! Tell me about you, Stanley, are you married?’
‘I certainly am. And I’ve got two kids, aged four and eight. My wife, Alison, is a gem. She has to put up with a lot but never complains.’
Jane smiled. Considering the state of him she reckoned Alison had to be special.
‘Does she know you won’t be home tonight?’
‘Yeah, she understands it’s the job. Listen, you go and take your bath and I’ll clean up in here, and then go and have a kip.’
Jane left Stanley making himself another cup of tea, and went to run her bath. She completely submerged her body in the perfumed, bubbly water, then surfaced and washed her hair. After a long while she thought she should perhaps get out and make up the spare bed, but when she emerged wearing a dressing gown, with a towel wrapped around her wet hair, Stanley was already in the spare room.
‘Oh, I was going to put some sheets on the bed.’
‘Don’t bother, I’ll just lie on top of the cover. I’m in working gear and don’t want to mess up the bed. You just carry on as if I wasn’t here, and get a good night’s sleep.’
‘OK… just help yourself to another cup of tea if you want one.’
‘Ta. Goodnight, then.’
‘Goodnight, Stanley… I’m sorry, I don’t know your Christian name?’
‘Nobody ever uses it. I just go by Stanley.’
Jane checked the kitchen. It was neat and tidy, and Stanley had washed up the cups and the plate, which were now drying on the draining board. She closed her bedroom door and dried her hair. There was no doubt that she felt much safer with Stanley being in the flat. She was just about to climb into bed when the phone rang, so she hurried out to the small hallway to answer it.
‘Hello?’
‘Hello,’ a woman replied. ‘I’m answering your advertisement about a room to let.’
‘Oh, yes.’
‘I’m sorry to call late, but I work locally and would be very interested in viewing the room.’
‘Could you give me a contact number where I can reach you?’
‘Yes, I suppose my work place would be the best number as I’m there all day. I work in Madame Tussauds.’
‘Oh, well this area would be convenient for you… but let me call you tomorrow.’
‘Is the room still available to rent? I have to move out of the place that I’m currently living in.’
‘Yes, the room’s still available. Can I take your name and date of birth please?’ Jane asked.
‘Yes, of course… I’m Pearl Radcliff, born 25 October 1951. I have my previous rental details as well as references from where I’ve stayed previously.’
Jane wrote down Pearl’s details and a phone number. She apologised that she couldn’t arrange a viewing straightaway as she was unsure what her availability was, but said that she would call her back as soon as she knew.
‘Oh, is there any chance I could come by tomorrow evening, after I finish work?’
Jane hesitated, then agreed that she would call her back when she returned from work to let her know if it was convenient.
‘Who was that?’ Stanley asked, standing in the doorway of the spare bedroom.
‘It was in response to an advert I put in the local newsagents… I want to rent out the room you’re sleeping in.’
‘Are you sure that’s wise with everything that’s going on at the moment?’
‘I need a lodger to help pay the mortgage. Besides, I don’t see why I should change my plans because of what’s happened.’