The Long Call (Two Rivers #1) - Ann Cleeves Page 0,80

if she should pull out, if it would be disrespectful to perform so soon after the man’s murder. But it was an honour to have been asked and besides, it was a paying gig. She could use the cash.

‘Christine’s fine. Dehydrated and cold and they’re keeping her in hospital overnight, but no lasting damage, physically at least. It’ll have affected her mother, though. She’s always been a bit nervous and this won’t help.’

‘Do the police know what happened?’

‘No. They found Christine by a pond out towards Lovacott. Nobody knows how she got there.’

‘Not even your husband?’ Gaby had known that Jonathan’s Matthew was a detective, because of gossip around the centre, but had only linked him with the inspector in charge of the investigation into Simon’s death when she’d seen the two of them eating lunch outside the Woodyard cafe.

‘Not even him.’ Jonathan paused. ‘Are you okay? It must be hard to lose a housemate, even if you weren’t very close. You know you can always take a few days off.’

He was so sympathetic that she was almost tempted to confide in him. To confess. But she’d grown up thinking that secrets were sometimes all she had, so she just shook her head. ‘Nah. I’ll be fine. I want to finish this.’ She stood aside so he could see the painting.

He didn’t speak for a moment and when he did his tone was unexpectedly serious. ‘You do know this is terrific. I think we should talk about holding an exhibition of your work, see if we can get some of the London press down. Christopher Preece has contacts in the media and he’s always keen on anything that would put this place on the map.’

She looked up at him to see if he was just being kind, but he was still staring at her work.

* * *

When she got to the cafe Caz and Edward were already there. She hadn’t thought this would be quite Ed’s thing, but perhaps Caz was working her magic on him, making him more mellow. He drank a couple of glasses of wine and slid his arm around his girlfriend’s shoulder. Gaby thought he seemed even more adolescent and needy than usual. Caz had untied her hair and was wearing a little red dress and silver earrings.

Gaby gave her a hug. ‘You look gorgeous.’

‘Well, I had to make a bit of an effort for your first public performance.’

Gaby could tell the compliment had pleased her. The room was transformed for the evening with candles and fairy lights and the music had already begun. They were sitting at the back, furthest from the stage, around a small table, and there was a bottle of cava in a bucket of ice. Everything, apparently, as normal.

When the piece finished, there was a chance to talk for a while.

‘Did you hear that the missing woman was found?’ Gaby said. ‘Jonathan came up to the studio to tell me.’

‘Yes.’ Caroline’s face was in shadow so it was hard to tell what she was thinking. ‘Dad phoned me. He thought I’d want to know.’

‘He must be pleased.’

Caroline didn’t answer that. ‘The detective who talked to us in Hope Street, Jen Rafferty, came to St Cuthbert’s today. I gave her the key you found in Simon’s laundry. She seemed pleased to have it.’

‘Oh.’ Gaby wasn’t sure what to make of that. ‘Did your dad know anything about the investigation? Do they think Christine’s abduction was linked to Simon’s murder? I didn’t ask Jonathan. He’s married to the officer in charge of the case, so he wasn’t going to tell me anything even if they believe there’s a link.’

‘Oh, Dad wouldn’t know about any of that. Why would he?’

Gaby didn’t think that was necessarily true. She saw Christopher Preece as a powerful man, with fingers in lots of pies.

Caroline was still talking. ‘Jen Rafferty thought Simon might not have been homeless when he came to us. She thought he might have had his own place. I don’t think he would have kept that sort of secret. In the meetings at St Cuthbert’s he was very open about other aspects of his life.’

Gaby reached out for the bottle and poured more cava into her glass. ‘You don’t know that. Just because he sat round in a circle listening to other depressed people baring their souls, it doesn’t mean he was prepared to spew out every detail of his personal life. We all need secrets, just to keep sane, to feel that the world doesn’t