Page 33 of Worse Than Murder (DCI Matilda Darke Thriller #13)

Unfortunately, the damage to their relationship had been done and Katrina could not get over the betrayal.

They had been living in Birmingham for only three weeks before she told him the marriage was over.

There was no going back. She moved out of their rented house that evening, returning temporarily to her parents’ home in Bradford.

They only saw each other one more time and that was before a solicitor when the finer details of their divorce were finalised.

Outside, on the pavement, they shook hands, said goodbye, and went in opposite directions.

Aaron took a job with SRUK and travelled the country whenever they were called out.

He volunteered for all the unpopular shifts and worked weekends, bank holidays, Christmas and New Year.

He was happy to give up the time people usually spent with loved ones to save him from being lonely.

He soon rose up the ranks and was now director of the Birmingham branch of SRUK.

There were two other sites in Glasgow and Devon with a fourth opening next year in Norfolk.

* * *

When I shout out Aaron’s name, he turns around, and his serious face lights up upon seeing an old friend.

As he approaches, the smile falls. No words are spoken, but it’s obvious he’s heard about what happened.

He takes me in his arms and his embrace feels good.

Surprisingly, I feel as if I could stay with my head against his chest for the rest of the day.

It’s comforting. When we eventually pull apart, I look up at him.

He’s a clear head taller than me. My vision is blurred with tears, but I can see he also has tears in his eyes.

‘I’m so sorry,’ he says.

‘Thank you.’

He shakes his head. ‘I couldn’t believe it when I heard. Have you caught him?’

‘Not yet. It appears he’s gone to ground.’

‘What are you doing out here in the Lake District?’

I shrug and swallow my emotion. ‘Running away.’

His name is called. He turns back to see his team awaiting instructions.

‘Can you give me five minutes?’ he asks.

‘Sure.’

I watch as he runs back to his team who are suiting up in diving gear.

He seems to be in his element as he takes control and issues orders.

He’s put on weight since I last saw him, but on closer inspection I see that it’s muscle.

There’s an air of freedom about him. He still has a demanding job.

Now I think about it, searching underwater or in difficult to reach places could be stressful and challenging, even demoralising if they don’t get the outcome they want, but Aaron seems happy in his work.

It’s evident in the camaraderie he has with his team, and the bounce in his walk.

‘Don’t you dive with them?’ I ask when he returns.

‘Not at the moment. I’m getting over a frozen shoulder. It’ll be another few weeks before I’m allowed back in the water.’

‘You seem to be enjoying your job.’

‘I love it,’ he says, a beaming smile on his face.

I hand him a coffee from the tray, and we go over to sit on the trunk of a felled tree.

Aaron fills me in on everything that has happened since he left South Yorkshire Police.

He’s currently dating Emma Maguire and has been for the past six months.

It’s not serious. He has no intention to remarry.

He realises he’s not suited to a constrained life that the job and marriage brought.

He likes that one day he could be working in Birmingham, the next in the Lake District, the one after in Cornwall. It’s a wonderful life for him.

‘You’re happy,’ I say. I’m tempted to ask him what that feeling is like, but I don’t.

‘I am,’ he says without giving it any thought. ‘How are you doing?’

‘I won’t lie to you, Aaron, I’m falling apart. I’ve no idea what to do next. I can’t stay with the Meagans forever.’

‘I heard you managed to reunite Carl with his family. How are they?’

‘They’re doing great. He’s thirteen now. He’s a bit quiet for a teenager, but it’s understandable given what he’s been through.’

‘How long have you been hiding out here?’

‘About a month.’

‘When do you think you’ll go back to Sheffield?’

‘I don’t know. I don’t think I want to go back. Not to the job anyway.’

‘Have you resigned?’

‘No. I’m on compassionate leave. I’ve been told to take as long as I need.’

‘Then, do that. Stay here. Go travelling. Have a holiday. Work for a charity for six months delivering aid to war-torn countries. Moping about here won’t do you any good. You need to recharge your batteries. Refocus.’

I nod. He’s right. ‘I’ve tried to refocus.

I go running and swimming every day. I’ll have my ear pods in listening to early Stereophonics then, all of a sudden, I’m hit in the face with reality.

My entire family is dead. They’re dead because of me.

I could have stopped it. It really is like hitting a brick wall.

Until I can silence that, I can’t move on. ’

‘Oh, Mat,’ he says, putting his arm around me and rubbing my back. It’s soothing. I like it.

I look out at the water as a lone diver begins to slowly walk out. ‘Don’t they go down in teams of two?’

‘No. One diver goes down. Another stands on the side with the guide rope that’s attached to the main diver. He’s all togged up ready to go in if needed.’

‘How long can he stay under with the oxygen tank on his back?’

‘It’s not oxygen. It’s compressed air. And he’s not using that to breathe through.

That’s for emergencies. Basically, what he’s doing is going down to look at the car and see how best to bring it out.

We’re thinking of bringing in a crane and lifting it out by attaching cables to the axles.

We just need to see what condition the car is in, if it’s been down for as long as the local police suspect.

Chassis are pretty tough so it should be able to be pulled out. ’

I watch Aaron as he takes me through the role of SRUK.

‘You’re really settled, aren’t you?’

He can’t hide his smile. ‘I am. I love this job. I always wanted to be a detective. I thought I was going to be one until I retired. It wasn’t until I left that I realised how uptight and stressed I was. I feel so much freer doing this.’

‘I’m really happy for you, Aaron.’

‘Thank you. By the way, can you dive?’

‘I’ve never done it. Why?’

‘We’re hiring.’

I let out a guttural laugh. ‘I might be able to manage with diving, but I’ve seen your website. There’s no way I’m going in abandoned mines and caves.’ I shudder at the thought.

‘Yes. You do need to be quite hardy in this job.’

We watch, me with acute interest, as the diving team recce the scene. Eventually, the lead diver breaks the surface of the water and gave a thumbs-up signal.

‘That means we’ll be able to attach the cables and lift the car out. I’ll need to speak to the inspector about getting a crane in and a low-loader. What’s she like, this Inspector Forsyth?’

‘Prickly, but it’s all an act.’

‘Sounds familiar,’ he says, nudging me playfully.

We stand up and Aaron hands me back the empty coffee cup.

‘I’ll try and come and see you later. I’m not sure how long all this is going to take us,’ he says. ‘Can I give you some advice?’

‘Sure.’

‘Do something to put the fear back in your life. Hand in your notice with South Yorkshire Police. Sell your house. Leave Sheffield and just go somewhere. Don’t plan.

Just go. You’ve run away to the Lake District, but it’s still safe and comforting.

You know the Meagans. You know they’ll let you stay for as long as you want.

In order to move on, you need to drastically change your life. ’

I bite my bottom lip to stave off the emotions.

‘You know I’m right,’ Aaron says. He pulls me into another tight embrace and kisses me on the top of my head before releasing me and heading towards Inspector Forsyth.

‘I know you are. If only it was that easy.’

* * *

I watch while Aaron and Gill speak. I can’t hear what’s said from this distance, and very little seems to be happening so I decide to return to the restaurant. My stomach is growling, anyway, and Philip has promised to cook the smoked salmon he’s had hanging in the larder for a few days.

I walk through the trees, passing the myriad of police vehicles and SRUK vans, keeping my head down so as not to engage in eye contact with people who proffer faux sympathetic smiles.

Rumour has got around that the infamous Matilda Darke is staying in the area and people seem to be interested in getting a glimpse at the car crash in human form.

‘Can I have a word?’

Alison Pemberton is standing by a marked police car. She looks shocked by something.

‘Sure.’

‘Everybody is lying to me,’ she says.

‘I’m sorry?’

‘They’re all lying.’

‘Who is?’

‘Everyone.’

I can see she’s struggling with her emotions. I take her by the elbow and lead her into the restaurant, up the stairs and into the living room.

‘Start from the beginning and take your time. What have you found out?’

‘My mum was having an affair,’ she says through her tears. ‘She gave a statement on the day Celia and Jennifer disappeared, and five days later she gave a completely different one.’ She thrusts the photocopied pages to me.

I take them and read them through. ‘My goodness. I’m guessing your mum has never spoken to you about this.’

‘No. She knows… she knows how much I miss my dad. How could she do this to him, Matilda?’

‘I’m not going to try and justify it, but your mum must have been very unhappy.

It’s not easy living with someone with depression, especially if you don’t fully understand it.

The early 1990s was a very different time.

We didn’t talk about mental illness as openly as we do now.

And men certainly talked about it even less.

Your dad will have hated how he was feeling.

He wouldn’t have talked to anyone, especially his wife.

She might have seen him as cold and distant, and found solace elsewhere. Don’t hate your mother, Alison.’

Alison grabs for a tissue on the coffee table. She blows her nose and wipes her eyes. It’s a while before she speaks.

‘Do you think Dad…’ She pauses and composes herself. ‘Do you think he killed my sisters as a sort of revenge for Mum and Travis being together?’

‘No, I don’t,’ I say, almost immediately. ‘If he had wanted to hurt your mother, he would have killed all three of you. You were all together on that day. There was no reason for him to leave you behind.’

She visibly relaxes. ‘Thank you,’ she squawks through her tears. ‘All the way over here I’ve been thinking that…’

‘I know. Alison, can I ask you a favour?’

She blows her nose again. ‘Of course.’

‘Take some time off. Take a step back from all this. I’ve got a feeling that you’ll get some answers very soon, but you can’t be a part of any of this. It will put all kinds of dark thoughts in your head, and you don’t want that. Wait for the answers.’

‘Are you sure you can get them?’

‘I’m doing my best.’

Reluctantly, she nods. ‘I looked Travis up. His last known address is the farm my mum lives in now. That was thirty years ago. What’s he been doing for the last thirty years? Is he missing, too?’

‘I think Tania said she was ringing around to try and find him. I’ll give her a call. We’ll find out what happened to him and what’s going on.’

‘I don’t think I can handle it, if Dad killed them,’ she says, the tears flowing once more.

I don’t know what to say to that. Until the truth about her father could be revealed, Alison needed to grow much stronger, and quickly.