Classic Bestsellers from Josephine Cox: Bumper Collection. Josephine Cox
‘Or someone hated your family?’
Tom had already considered that, but it was inconceivable. ‘It doesn’t make sense. It’s me they want to hurt … they can’t hurt my family any more. It’s me who sends the flowers. Besides, if it was my family they resented, why would they replace my flowers with fresh ones? It must be me they have a grudge against.’
His explanation only served to make Kathy even more fearful for him. ‘Can you think of anybody who would hate you enough to do this?’
He smiled sardonically. ‘I’ve beaten many a rival company to a lucrative contract.’
‘Do you really believe a business rival would do such a thing?’
Serious now, he shook his head. ‘No. That’s not the way it works. We all have to make a living. You win some, you lose some. That’s the way it is in business.’
Talking with Kathy had helped his mind to focus, because now something else occurred to him.
‘I’m beginning to think that whoever drove us off that cliff was after me and not my family. They just happened to be there when the opportunity presented itself. I’ve thought and thought, and I reckon that’s why the flowers are being left … as a kind of twisted apology. Don’t you see, Kathy … whoever did this is getting at me. It’s my flowers they’re destroying. It’s me they want dead!’
Though Kathy followed his reasoning, she daren’t think about it too deeply, or she would never have another night’s sleep. ‘I’m not so sure.’ Like a dog with a bone, she was loath to let it go. ‘I can’t believe anybody would kill an entire family just to get at you. Maybe you were just unlucky enough to meet some mad killer that day; someone who started out with murder in mind, and you and your family just happened to be there.’
Tom had to admit, ‘All right, it’s possible.’ But it wasn’t enough to satisfy him. ‘It still doesn’t explain why somebody is destroying my flowers and putting fresh ones in their place. To me, that seems like a personal thing.’
Kathy relented. ‘You’re right. It’s a strange business. It’s best you go and try to resolve it one way or another; I can see that now.’
‘I want rid of it, Kathy.’ His mind was made up. ‘Whoever it was that robbed my wife and children of their lives must be made to pay for it.’ His voice fell to a hush. ‘I need to know why! And if it was me they were after, I also need to make sure they don’t get another chance to finish the job.’
He took her in his embrace, his face against the softness of her hair and his voice low in her ear. ‘It’s coming between us, and I don’t want that. It will always be there. Unless I can put it to rest once and for all.’
She knew that. ‘When are you going?’
‘Not until after the weekend,’ he promised. ‘Inspector Lawson is away on a course until Wednesday morning; his secretary’s put me in first thing. So, I’ll be leaving on the Tuesday, staying overnight in London.’ Turning her face to his, he kissed her tenderly. ‘Besides, I’m hoping that Jasper will be back by then.’
‘Why? Are you missing him as much as I am?’
‘There is that, yes.’ He smiled mischievously. ‘But I need somebody to keep an eye on you … protect you from all those handsome chaps who come in and out of the site office. I don’t want you running off with any of them.’
‘Oh, you needn’t worry.’ She had an urge to tease him. ‘Mind you, there was a man last week though … big, handsome chap … he had a brand-new car. Now, if he were to ask, I might just be tempted.’
‘Would you now?’ Swinging her round, he kissed her long and passionately.
When he let go, she still had her eyes closed. ‘All right, you win,’ she muttered. ‘He can keep his car. I prefer your kisses any day.’
They kissed again, and talked some more; the rain fell all about them and the skies grew black with the onset of night. ‘Time to go,’ he murmured, and she didn’t argue; though she longed for the day when the kisses wouldn’t stop there.
Arm-in-arm, oblivious to the rain, they walked back to Barden House, talking of their future, and contemplating the outcome of Tom’s visit to London. ‘We’ve got three full days before I leave,’ Tom reminded her. ‘Let’s make the most of it.’
That night, alone in the house, Kathy lay on the rug in front of the fire, her wistful gaze uplifted to the photograph of her father and the woman he had loved. ‘I wonder if I’ll ever know the same kind of happiness as you found,’ she whispered. ‘I know I’ll never want anyone else but Tom, but I’m so afraid I might lose him.’
The clock ticked on the mantelpiece and the minutes sped by. The heat from the cheery fire and the rhythmic sound of rain pattering on the window-panes made her sleepy. She thought how cosy it all was.
Yet it felt empty and cold without Tom. ‘Dear Lord, bring him safely home again.’ Believing we make our own mistakes and have to find our own solutions, Kathy rarely asked the Lord for anything, but at this moment she felt in need of comfort and reassurance.
After a while she fell asleep, her head resting on her arms and her heart heavy with love.
One way or another, it had been a long day.
WITH THE HOUSEWORK finished, Kathy got ready to go into Bridport, where she would get her weekly shop, and hopefully a few bargains from the market. ‘I’ll even have time to pop in and see Mabel,’ she told herself in the hallway mirror. She had come to look forward to their intimate little chats; though it was a furtive affair as her husband was always lurking in the background, ready to pounce.
Before leaving, she glanced at the mantel-clock. ‘Half past ten … plenty of time before I see Tom.’ They’d arranged to meet at six thirty, when he’d planned to take her into Dorchester for a quiet restaurant meal. It would be a real treat; they could sit and talk, and enjoy every possible minute before he took off for London on Tuesday.
Another glance in the mirror ensured she hadn’t forgotten anything: hair brushed, lipstick on; yes, that was all right. ‘Got my purse and bag … yes.’
At last, she was ready for off. Yet when she opened the door and saw the rain-clouds gathering, she decided, ‘Best take a coat, just in case!’
Going back to the peg in the hallway, she unhooked her mackintosh. Throwing it over her arm, she secured the front door, then made her way down the path, her gaze reaching towards the harbour, where she hoped she might see Tom.
He wasn’t there. ‘He’s probably getting ready for Tuesday,’ she muttered. The thought of him going away laid a dark cloud over her mood.
Unusually, the bus was on time. ‘Morning, Miss.’ The conductor was a funny chap, with the jerky manners and appearance of a bird.
Small and quick, he had a slightly bent head and pointed features, the most prominent of which was his long, narrow nose. ‘Morning,’ she replied brightly. ‘How are you today?’ Rain or shine, he always seemed to have one thing or another wrong with him: either it was too hot for him to breathe, or it was so wet it got into his bones. Today was no different.
He gave a strangled groan. ‘It’s my back,’ he answered painfully. ‘I got out of bed this morning and could hardly walk.’
Kathy always sympathised, which was fatal because now he made a beeline for her every time. ‘You’ll have to see a doctor,’ she advised, handing him her fare.
‘Seen him already … that many times I might as well set up house in the surgery.’ Turning the rachet on his ticket-machine, he expelled