The Long Call (Two Rivers #1) - Ann Cleeves Page 0,102
up the pretence that you hated each other. It was all part of the drama.’
‘Yeah, something like that. Now, it seems like a kind of madness. Pointless. We wasted time we could have had together.’
‘So, what happened that day after you met for coffee?’ Matthew was aware of time passing. Soon eager middle-aged students would be knocking on the studio door demanding Gaby’s time.
‘I drove out to the coast and spent time looking for the right landscape to paint. I did some drawings and took photos, lost track of time. I had a group at the Woodyard in the evening and only just got back in time to meet Caz in the cafe for an early supper before the students turned up.’ She looked up. ‘I didn’t see Simon again after that meeting in the cafe. I didn’t drive with him to Crow Point and I didn’t kill him.’
Matthew wanted to believe her. He thought Marston would have seen her car if she’d driven Walden to the point. Which didn’t mean she hadn’t parked elsewhere and walked around the shore to meet her lover. She could have killed him then. ‘What about Simon? What were his plans?’
‘Oh, he was going to save the world. That was the impression he gave. At last the big project, the stuff that had been troubling him, was coming to a climax. Perhaps at last I’ll be able to get rid of this albatross round my neck, Gabs. At last, I’ll be able to face the world again. But he didn’t say anything specific. Nothing useful.’
There was a silence, and when she spoke, her words came out as a confession. ‘I loved him, you know. It was crazy and it would never have worked, but I really loved him.’
Chapter Thirty-Two
MAURICE BRADDICK LIKED SATURDAYS. Often, he and Lucy went into Barnstaple and did a bit of shopping, had coffee in one of the cafes that had sprung up all over the place, and sometimes they walked along the river to the park. They’d sit in the sun there, eating ice cream, watching the kiddies in the playground. They’d done the same when Maggie was alive, but Maggie had always been more energetic than him and sometimes she’d taken Lucy swimming. Maurice would sit on the raked seats, watching the pool, breathing in the heat and the chlorine, while the two women splashed. It had been their time and they’d loved it.
Lucy was in her bedroom getting ready and he went to call her, to tell her it was time to go. He stood on the landing and heard her chuntering to herself. Sometimes she did that. The social worker called it self-talk, but Lucy just said she was speaking to her pretend friends, making up a story. This sounded like an exciting story and Maurice could tell that Luce had made herself the centre of the action. She always liked a bit of drama; she’d loved being in the school plays when she was a kiddie. He and Maggie had sat in the front row cheering, not caring what the other parents made of it.
In the car on the way into town, he tried to talk to Lucy about Christine Shapland. ‘You see, maid, you’ve got to be careful. She was lucky. They found her just in time. But there are bad people out there. So, you know all the rules, don’t you? You don’t go with anyone, even if it’s someone you know. You stick close to me.’
But he could tell that Lucy wasn’t really listening. She was nodding away to the music on the car radio. She loved Radio 2.
It was sunny again, breezy. He’d washed both their sheets before they set off. Maggie had changed sheets every week but he didn’t bother so often. Today, though, had been a perfect drying day, and Lucy had helped him hang them out. They’d struggled to pin them on the line; the wind had caught the wet cotton, twisting it out of shape, almost wrapping around Lucy like a shroud, before they could get the pegs fixed.
‘Look at us, Luce. What are we like? Two crocks.’ Because he didn’t like to admit it, but his arthritis was playing up, pulling at his shoulder and causing pain in his hip. His doctor had said they could put him on the list for a new hip, but Maurice had said it wasn’t worth it. Who’d look after Lucy if he was in hospital?