Wayne gave a shrug. ‘It’ll pick up.’
‘Better had or you’ll be getting it in the neck. You know what he’s like. I suppose you’re having to hand over half the takings to Her Royal Highness. And what the hell does she even do round here? She’s a waste of space if ever there was one.’
‘Don’t start, Mum. And as it happens, she does have a job.’
‘Oh yeah?’
‘Yeah, she’s doing shifts at JoJos.’
Petra gave a snort. ‘And we all know what kind of place that is. Still, I can’t imagine anyone paying to see her take her clothes off.’
‘She’s not… She’s working behind the bar.’
‘And the rest,’ said Petra, unable to resist the temptation to stick the knife in. Everyone knew that JoJos was full of tarts and hookers. ‘I don’t suppose your dad’s best pleased.’
‘How would I know? It’s between the two of them, ain’t it? Nothing to do with anyone else.’
Petra scowled, resenting the fact that Wayne clearly wasn’t prepared to slag Sharon off. How wrong was that? He was her son and should be on her side. A little loyalty was all she asked for. ‘If you say so.’
Eager to change the subject, Wayne opened the carrier bag and pulled out a newspaper. ‘Billy gave me this. It’s yesterday’s Standard.’
After wiping her hands on her apron, Petra went over to the table. ‘He’s still working at the yard then?’
‘When he feels likes it.’
‘There’s a surprise. He never was a grafter that one.’ Billy was Wayne’s cousin, the son of Roy’s brother Lennie. ‘If he’s not pulling his weight, you should get shot of him.’
‘He’s family.’
‘And since when did anyone round here care about family?’
Wayne, ignoring the comment, flicked over the pages of the paper. ‘There’s a bit in here about Eddie.’
‘Let’s see it then.’
‘I’m looking, all right?’ He shoved the paper across the table, jabbing at the article with his forefinger. ‘There… there it is.’
Petra leaned over to read it. The report was short and didn’t tell her anything she didn’t already know, but she stared hard at the photograph. ‘So that’s her.’
‘Yeah, that’s the wife.’
‘They arrested her yet?’
‘Not that I’ve heard.’
‘And Terry Street?’
‘What about him?’
Petra gazed at her son wondering if he was being deliberately obtuse or if he’d already forgotten about the conversation they’d had. ‘You know what. Have you found out if he had anything to do with Eddie’s murder yet?’
‘No.’
‘And?’
Wayne gave a shrug. ‘I’ve put the word out. If it was down to him, I’ll hear about it.’
‘I want to know, right? As soon as you find out one way or the other.’
‘Sure.’
‘Jesus, at least try and say it like you mean it.’
Wayne heaved out a sigh, his heavy shoulders drooping. ‘I promise, okay? That good enough for you?’
Petra folded the paper over and picked it up. ‘And I don’t want Kelly reading this. The last thing she needs is to see a picture of that murderous cow.’ She was about to put it in the bin but then thought better of it. Instead she hid it the back of the cupboard under the sink. There might come a time when she would need to be reminded of what Sadie Wise looked like.
19
It was three days since Sadie had been informed of Eddie’s murder and with every hour that passed her fear receded a little. They must have checked out her story by now, confirmed that she’d been telling the truth about when she’d left Oaklands and the time of the trains she’d caught back to Haverlea. If she was still a suspect they would have come back to question her again, maybe even taken her down the station.
She pushed her hands deep into her pockets as she trudged towards home. Despite the cold, she’d done a lot of walking in the past few days. Too restless to stay in, she’d wandered aimlessly around the streets, her mind full of dread, her thoughts burdened by what might happen. At night she slept badly, tossing and turning, her brief snatches of sleep haunted by the face of Eddie standing in the hallway of his flat.
It was dark by the time she turned the corner into Buckingham Road. She could see the lights on in the top window of the house and knew that Joel must have finished work. She had lost all track of time. Peering at her watch, she saw that it was a quarter to six; the hours had slipped by without her even noticing. Where had she been? She remembered walking down by the golf course, but that had been this morning. Since then it was all a blur.
On the doorstep, Sadie kicked the snow off her boots before going inside. She wearily climbed the stairs, her legs feeling like lead. The flat was warm and she gave an involuntary shiver as her cold body met the heat. In the kitchen, Joel was rooting through the cupboards. He turned as he heard her come in and smiled.
‘Hey, how are you doing? Nice walk?’
‘Yes, thanks.’
‘What do you fancy for tea? Cheese on toast or… beans on toast?’
Sadie realised that she hadn’t eaten since breakfast and that her stomach felt hollow. ‘Sorry, I should have done some shopping.’
‘You’ve got enough on your mind.’
‘And you’ve been working all day. You need more than a slice of cheddar to keep you going. I’ll nip down the corner shop.’ She looked at her watch again. ‘There’s still time. It doesn’t close until six.’
‘I’ll come with you.’
‘No, it’s okay. You put the kettle on. I could do with a coffee.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘I’ll only be five minutes.’
Joel closed the cupboard door and said, ‘Oh, I almost forgot. You just missed a call. Anne rang about ten minutes ago.’
‘Who?’
‘Anne,’ he repeated.
Sadie frowned, shaking her head. ‘I don’t know anyone called Anne.’
‘Yes you do.’ Joel gave her a patient smile as if recent events had addled her brain. ‘The girl who sent you the book, remember? I told her that it got here safely.’
Sadie gave a start. ‘W… what?’ she stammered. She could feel the blood rising to her face and her cheeks began to burn. ‘What did… what did she want?’
‘Just to see if you were okay. She’d heard about Eddie. She was worried about you.’
It was Mona. It had to be. Anne Faulkner was the name of the girl in the book. ‘But I barely know her.’
Joel looked confused. ‘I thought you said she was a friend.’
‘When did I say that?’
‘When you got the book. You said you’d leant it to a friend.’
Feeling herself caught out in a lie, Sadie reddened even more. ‘Oh, well, she was never really a mate, just a friend of a friend. It was years ago.’
‘She said she’d call back later.’
Sadie glanced towards the living room as if the phone might suddenly spring into life. Her heart had started to thump. How had she got the number? But then she realised that Mona had her name and address and all she’d had to do was ring Directory Enquiries.
‘Are you all right?’
She forced a smile, a nod, as all her old fears swept over her again. There was only one reason why Mona would be ringing and it wasn’t a good one. ‘I’m fine. Just a bit tired, that’s all.’
‘She left a number. It’s written on the pad by the phone.’
I don’t want to talk to her, don’t make me talk to her is what she wanted to say, but the words caught in her throat. ‘Thanks,’ she said instead, fighting hard to keep her voice steady. She picked up her bag and made for the door. ‘See you soon. I won’t be long.’ On the way out she ripped off the note on the pad and stuck it in her pocket.
As Sadie ran down the stairs her fingers closed around the slip of paper. She couldn’t ring from the flat, not with Joel there, but there was a phone box she could use on the corner. Did she have any change in her purse? She had to call. She had to do it. She had to find out if Mona really had killed Eddie. But the thought of asking filled her with dread.