The Long Call (Two Rivers #1) - Ann Cleeves Page 0,96

and rituals.’

‘Whose idea was it that she should come to stay with you while my father’s funeral was taking place?’ Matthew paused. ‘I would have thought you would both have wanted to be there. Dennis was a good friend to him.’

‘Dennis was there,’ Grace said. ‘I was happy to stay with Christine. It wasn’t one of her Woodyard days. I knew Susan would want to be with Dorothy.’

‘So, it was your idea to invite her here?’

She didn’t answer immediately. ‘Really? I can’t remember.’ She looked across the table at him. ‘I’m not sure that it does any good, asking all these questions. Christine is safe and nothing else matters.’

They stared at each other. Matthew wondered if her statement was a coded plea for him not to interfere. Perhaps she worried that Dennis would take out his fury at Matthew’s intrusion on her. From across the square in The Golden Fleece came the bass thump of a disco beat.

‘I need to ask about Dennis.’ Matthew thought he should talk about this now, before the man returned from his meeting. ‘I’ve heard rumours that he can’t manage his anger, that, in the past, he hit you.’

‘You know Dennis.’ Her voice was flat and completely without emotion. ‘He wouldn’t do anything like that. He’s a good man.’

‘A good man, who allowed his learning-disabled niece to be kidnapped and held against her will for two nights.’

‘He was distracted. Listening to the cricket. Then he got a call from one of the Brethren who needed him.’

‘Are you sure?’ Outside in the square, there was a highpitched squeal of laughter. ‘Are you sure he wasn’t behind the kidnap? That he didn’t know about it, at least?’

‘Don’t be ridiculous!’

Matthew remembered that Grace had taught before her marriage. His mother, very impressed, had told him that she’d ended up as a head teacher of an infants’ school. She had spoken those words as if he was a silly four-year-old, with a mixture of sharp exasperation and amusement.

‘Does he hit you, Grace? We can help you, find you somewhere else to live.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous!’ she said again. ‘You might have broken your mother’s heart by leaving the Brethren, by setting up home with a man, but you must still know how things work. Some things aren’t possible. I’m lucky to be married to Dennis. He needs me.’ She looked directly at him and her voice was firm and strong. ‘I want to stay married to Dennis.’

Matthew saw that she was telling the truth. She wanted to stay married. In her small world, being Dennis’s wife gave her status, security, a sense of purpose that she’d relinquished when she’d stopped working. She’d probably convinced herself that she would reform him, or that his outbursts of temper were her fault. Or Dennis had convinced her, brainwashed her into submission. Matthew found it hard to believe that the night she’d turned up at the Braddicks’ house, beaten and desperate, had been an isolated incident.

There was the sound of a key being turned in the lock and Dennis was there, already the centre of attention in the room, with his big lion’s head and his mane of white hair. His arms once more wide open in welcome. A ritual that seemed meaningless now, a form of affectation. Matthew could tell that his own presence was no surprise. He’d been right; Grace had been on the phone to her husband to warn him.

‘Matthew! How good to see you! What wonderful news that our niece is safely returned to her mother! A blessing and a joy.’

‘She was locked up for two nights,’ Matthew said. ‘Imprisoned, we think, in a flat in Braunton. That’s a very serious offence. Of course, we’re still investigating.’

There was no immediate response to the mention of Braunton, but by now Matthew was thinking that the man wouldn’t respond spontaneously to anything. His life was a performance and his face nothing but a mask. Now, he threw his arms wide again. ‘Of course, you must!’

‘She was released not very far from here, close to Lovacott pond,’ Matthew went on. ‘According to my mother, you used to have the Brethren summer picnics up there. You’ll know the place.’

‘Of course we do. Very well. What happy days they were! Perhaps we should consider running those picnics again, Grace. Though I worry that so many of our community are elderly now that we might struggle to get everyone there.’ Dennis gave a little laugh. ‘And I’m not sure many of us could manage the three-legged