"Oh, yes. It took a while, but she remembered it all in the end. She wanted to confess about four years ago, but we persuaded her out of it. Jane at fourteen was down to four and a half stone. Diana and I said her peace of mind was more important than Phoebe's." She took another deep breath. "It meant we've never been able to sell the Grange, of course. Sod's Law predicts that whoever buys it will want to rip the guts out of the cellar to put in a Jacuzzi." She smiled faintly. "At times it has been quite unbearable. But when I look at the three of them now, I know it was all worth it." Her damp eyes pleaded for a reassurance she would never put into words.
He took one of her hands. "What can I say, woman? Except that next time I tell you how to run your life, remind me that you know best." He played with her fingers, pulling at them. "I could use your photographs of the house to smash Walsh and Barnes for what they've done to Phoebe."
"No," she said immediately. "No one knows they exist, except you and me. Phoebe and Diana don't know. Let's leave them where they are. I see death too often in my nightmares as it is. Phoebe wouldn't want it, anyway. Walsh was right. She did kill David."
He nodded and looked away. It was a while before he spoke. "My wife came back to me tonight."
She forced herself a smile. "Are you glad?"
"As a matter of fact I am." She tried to extract her hand tactfully from his, but he wouldn't let her.
"Then I'm pleased for you. Will it work this time, do you think?"
"Oh, yes. I'm toying with the idea of leaving the police force. What do you think?"
"It'll make things easier at home. The divorce rate amongst policemen is phenomenal."
"Forget the practicalities. Advise me, for myself."
"I can't," she said. "It's something you will have to decide for yourself. All I can say is that, whatever decision you come to, make sure it's one you can live with." She looked at him shyly. "I was mistaken before, you know. I think you were probably right to go into the police, and I think the police would be the poorer without you."
He nodded. "And you? What will you do now?"
She smiled brightly. "Oh, the usual. Storm a few citadels, seduce a sculptor or two."
He grinned. "Well, before you do that, will you give me a hand in the cellar one night? I think it's time that wall came down, and David Maybury left this house for good. Don't worry. It won't be unpleasant. After nine years there will be very little left and this time we'll get rid of him properly."
"Wouldn't it be better to leave well alone?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because, Cattrell, if Phoebe isn't freed of him, you and Diana will be tied to this house for ever."
She looked into a private darkness beyond him. How little he understood. They would always be tied now. It had been too long. They had lost the confidence to start again.
He gave her fingers a last squeeze and stood up. "I'd better make tracks for bed then."
She nodded, her eyes over-bright. "Goodbye, McLoughlin. I wish you luck, I really do."
He scratched the side of his face. "I suppose you couldn't lend me a pillow? And maybe a toothbrush from the bathroom?"
"What for?"
"I've got nowhere to sleep, woman. I told you, my wife came back. I'm damned if I'm spending another seven years with someone whose favourite colour is beige. I walked out." He watched her smile. "I thought I'd shack up with a friend this time."
"What sort of friend?"
"Oh, I don't know. How about a cynical, selfish intellectual snob, who can't sustain relationships, doesn't conform and embarrasses people?"
She laughed quietly. "It's all true."
"Of course it is. We've a lot in common. It's not a bad description of me either."
"You'd hate living here."
"About as much as you do, probably. How does Glasgow sound?"
"What would we do there?"
"Explore, Cattrell, explore."
Her eyes danced. "Are you going to take no for an answer, McLoughlin?"
"No."
"Well, what the hell are you waiting for then?"
Minette Walters
