about sixteen. Who he still loved? And who, as Mark had so eloquently put it, reeled him in occasionally. No wonder he’d looked haunted when her name was mentioned.
‘Was it Sam who told you about Peddler?’ I asked suddenly. He’d said Dad had rung to tell him, but that he already knew. ‘That it was my horse who kicked?’
‘No, Emma Harding did.’
‘Emma Harding!’
‘The one that was shacked up with your husband, love.’
I caught my breath. Who was this Mark Harrison? This countryman in his isolated cottage with his hounds, who seemed to have no domestic life of his own, but knew everything about everyone?
‘You knew my husband?’
‘Couldn’t miss him. They were down the road. Across that field over there, in the flint cottage.’ He jerked his head out of the window across the meadows, and I realized that, as the crow flew, Emma’s cottage, which I’d passed on the road, was surely not far. ‘I’d exercise my hounds in the summer past her back garden – how could I not know? Many an evening I’d go past with twelve couple and see him arrive at her back door on his bike, six o’clock, head to toe in blue nylon. Nothing subtle about his entrances.’
Six o’clock. The children’s bath time. Which Phil never made it home in time for. ‘It seems the whole world knew,’ I said, swallowing. ‘Except the wife, of course. Always the last.’
‘Ah, but you’re well shot of him now, aren’t you?’ he said gently, with a small smile. ‘And he surely got his comeuppance.’
‘He did,’ I agreed, and couldn’t help but smile back. I’d forgotten this man had a philosophical take on death.
‘She said she saw you look guilty as sin when Peddler was mentioned, and that she knew your horse kicked. Couldn’t come running across the field quick enough that evening to tell me, still in her hunting coat, she was. But when she bustled back to her own house, she got a nasty surprise herself. The police were on her doorstep.’
‘The police? Why?’
He shrugged. ‘Dunno. Thought you’d know, love. Apparently it’s all over the village. Fraud of some sort. White collar. The kennel girl’s brother is a cop down at the station and says it’s something to do with business. Where she worked.’
‘Where she worked? You mean, at the bank?’ I said, in astonishment.
He made a non-committal face again. ‘No idea.’
I sat down slowly on the sofa behind me, bewildered; dimly aware of a very plump cushion in my back. But even more aware of something else. The investigation into the bank by the FSA. I’d thought it purely routine. Had told Sam as much. Ted Barker had assured me so. Although … he’d been worried enough to write to me about it, I realized suddenly. To alert me. Something Ted said months ago, at a dinner party at his house in Esher, came winging back; something about how the female high-flyer in the office sailed close to the wind. He’d said it with a smile as he’d mixed me a gin and tonic, but I’d detected a worried tone. It hadn’t meant much at the time. I’d never met the high-flyer. But they’d dropped her pretty smartly, hadn’t they? The bank? The moment Phil had died? I was aware of Mark looking at me.
‘She was dishonest,’ I whispered.
‘That’s what they say. And whatever it is she’s done, I can believe it. She’s a wrong ’un, that one. Anyway, she’s in police custody now.’
I stared up at him. ‘Emma Harding is in custody?’ I said incredulously.
‘I just said so, didn’t I?’
‘Yes, but …’ I struggled with the concept. ‘She can’t be in custody, not actually being held. She’s a successful businesswoman!’
He shrugged. ‘Thieving’s thieving, whoever you are.’
‘They took her in that night?’
‘No, just questioned her. Came back for her this morning. Seven o’clock they was on her doorstep. If you don’t believe me, love, ask Rob, the kennel boy. We was out back with the bitch pack, at the far end of the meadow. Watched as she answered the door in her dressing gown, then disappeared, white-faced, to get dressed. When she came back down the path to the police car she looked like she’d been shot.’
‘I bet she did.’
‘Her husband looked pretty grim too. He was in the hall, behind her. Rob said if ever a man needed a drink it was him.’
‘Oh, God.’ I inhaled sharply. ‘Simon. He must be devastated!’
‘I’d say so.’
My mind whirred as I tried to assimilate all this. Emma