Page 89 of Worse Than Murder
‘Bloody hell. Why would you want to watch yourself have sex? I don’t even shower with the lights on.’
The whole table erupts into laughter.
* * *
Outside the restaurant, it’s dark. Muted lighting on the car park. Philip hadn’t wanted it to be bright and gaudy. He wanted his diners to enjoy the view, especially during the summer months when the sun set over the lake and lit the sky up a brilliant red. High-voltage light bulbs would ruin the atmosphere. In a car in the corner, in the shade of an oak tree, Inspector Gill Forsyth watches the restaurant. She sees Matilda, looking unsettlingly different in a figure-hugging dress, sitting with the six members of SRUK. They’re relaxed, laughing, joking, having fun, swapping stories, enjoying themselves. She bites her bottom lip hard, chewing on the loose skin, seething with rage. Her father told her about Matilda and Tania’s visit earlier. She expected Tania to be sticking her nose in where it wasn’t wanted. She’s a journalist after all, they were all reptiles, but she’d thought better of Matilda, especially after everything she’s recently gone through. The grieving-woman act is clearly a ruse to worm her way in, and Gill had fallen for it. Rookie mistake. Watching her now, happy, drinking wine like she didn’t have a care in the world, Gill decides it’s time Matilda fucked off back to Sheffield. She’s outstayed her welcome. She wants her gone.
* * *
After the dessert and coffees, me and Aaron excuse ourselves and go to a smaller table in the corner of the room where we can have a private chat.
‘I called Scott last night,’ he says, almost sheepishly.
‘Did you tell him where I am?’
‘He already knows.’
‘Sian?’
He nods. ‘He’s worried about you. They all are.’
‘I’m fine. Look at me in a designer dress and makeup.’ I force a smile.
‘He told me you’ve been seeing someone. Odell?’
‘Yes.’
‘According to Scott, he’s waiting for you.’
I don’t know how to react to that and feel a well of emotion rise up inside me. ‘He might be in for a long wait.’
‘You’re not going back to Sheffield?’
‘I don’t know what I’m doing yet. Part of me wants to go back, find out who killed my family and tear them limb from limb. Another part wants never to set foot in Sheffield ever again.’
‘I think we both know that you can’t ever fully run away from your problems. They’re always in here,’ he says, tapping his head.
‘Tell me about it. I keep going over everything. What did I miss? Could I have saved them, if I’d done something differently?’ I take another sip of my coffee and look at Aaron over the top of the cup. ‘What would you do, if you were me?’
‘You’re asking me for advice?’ he asks, incredulously.
‘I am.’
‘Wow, you really are desperate.’
‘You made a mistake. We all make them. But you were an excellent detective. I wouldn’t have made you my sergeant, if I didn’t think so. You’re not in the force now. You’re removed from it all. You don’t have an ulterior motive for me to return to Sheffield. I’d like your impartial advice.’
‘Okay.’ He clears his throat. ‘Based on what I know about you. Based on your drive and determination and never giving up on anything. If I were you, I’d take some time out here, like you are doing, then I’d go back to Sheffield and turn the city upside down looking for the fucker who killed my family. Then I’d hand in my notice and leave. The police force has taken up a great deal of your life. You’ve got the freedom and the funds to enjoy yourself. So, for once, be selfish and live.’
I feel a tear run down my face. I wipe it away. Aaron jumps up and runs around to me. He wraps his strong arms around my shoulders and pulls me close.
‘He killed my mum, Aaron. He killed my nephews,’ I cry.
‘I know. I know. There’s no getting over that. It will forever haunt you. But you can adapt, and you can only do that by catching the bastard who did it.’
‘I know.’
‘There’s no rush, though. Take all the time you need.’
