‘Do you want to talk about it?’
He sighed. ‘Why not?’
He didn’t look at her as he talked about the death of his lover, but he was conscious of her intense scrutiny. When he’d finished, he said, ‘My old boss thinks that by moving to the Lakes, I’m running away from what happened to Aimee. If he’s right, it certainly didn’t work. I’ve spent all my life hungering after knowledge. I’m never satisfied until I understand. That’s fine for a historian, but it causes trouble in the real world. If I hadn’t confronted Tash, she’d be alive today.’
‘Do you wish she’d lived?’
He shrugged. ‘What matters is that she didn’t want to.’
A few moments passed. Hannah checked her watch. ‘I’d better be going.’
‘Marc will be getting back from the book fair soon, I guess.’
‘Maybe.’
Something in her voice caused him to look up. ‘Something wrong?’
She pushed a hand through her hair. ‘Nothing that can’t be sorted out, I suppose.’
He took a deep breath. ‘Would you like to tell me about it?’
She hesitated. ‘I–I don’t think that would be a good idea.’
‘Okay.’
‘You understand what I mean?’ Her shoulders were hunched, her tone defensive. ‘I don’t want to sound secretive, especially when you told me all about Aimee. But some things need to stay private.’
He shrugged. ‘I’ll walk you back to the car.’
In silence, they made their way along the edge of the fell and then down the coffin trail, towards Brack Hall and the farm. Hannah had parked at the point where the trail joined the lane. When they reached her car, she offered her hand. It was warm to touch.
‘Perhaps I’ll see you again sometime.’
He wondered if he should kiss her. Just a peck on the cheek, nothing more. He leaned towards her and her eyes widened. Something in her expression unsettled him. Shit, he thought.
Slowly, trying not to show his reluctance, he drew back.
‘So how are things here?’ Miranda asked as he unlocked the front door.
From the moment he’d picked her up at Oxenholme station, she’d scarcely drawn breath. The jaunt to London had been an unqualified success. She’d seen friends, lunched at the next table to a couple of hunky actors from a long-running soap, and accepted Suki’s offer to contribute a regular column to the magazine. The pay was amazing and the friends mouth-wateringly envious of her idyllic lifestyle in the Lakes. A couple of people she’d wanted to see had been away, but it didn’t matter because she’d soon have another chance to catch up with them. She needed to go back to Wapping to chat up an ex-boyfriend who had moved to
‘Eddie says he’ll be starting work on the bothy next week. And I took Tash’s watercolour and gave it to the Oxfam shop. Otherwise, not quite as exciting as they were for you, by the sound of it.’
‘Listen,’ she said as he put down her suitcase. ‘You’ve already had enough excitement to last a lifetime. I still can’t get over the idea of Tash killing her own housekeeper. Let alone this horrid picture that keeps coming into my mind of her splattered all over the courtyard. All the blood and the brains — ugh! This is a beautiful part of the world, I’ve been telling everyone, but…weird, somehow.’
‘You’re still glad we moved here?’
‘Of course! Let’s face it, I’ve fallen on my feet. If we didn’t have a cottage in the country, Suki would never have crossed my palm with silver. I only wish you hadn’t made me promise not to write about the murders. I could have made a small fortune. All the same…’
‘Yes?’
‘The agent still hasn’t found a buyer for my flat. Not at the price I wanted.’
‘You are asking top dollar.’
‘Why not? It’s an up-and-coming area. But I was wondering whether it might be an idea to keep the flat. It would be so useful to have a place to stay in the city. Our very own pied-a-terre. What do you think?’
‘Why would we need it?’
In playful mood, she wagged a finger. ‘Don’t forget what you said about Tash. She wanted to start again, but you said it was impossible. We’re all the prisoners of our history.’
‘God,’ he said gloomily. ‘I can be pretentious sometimes.’
‘You’re an Oxford don,’ she said, punching him gently in the stomach. ‘It comes with the territory.’
He shook his head. ‘Oxford’s in the past. I’m not going back.’
‘You’ll change your mind. Everybody does in the end.’
‘Not me.’
‘Daniel.’ Her tone was patient and kind. ‘The Lake District is wonderful, but it is a bit — well, remote. We don’t want to cut ourselves off.’
‘But that’s what we agreed.’
She reached towards him and started to unbuckle his belt. ‘Hey, let’s not argue. I’ve only been home five minutes and there are far better ways we can spend the time.’
He closed his eyes as she touched him. She still had the gift of making him forget everything but the here and now. Trouble was, with his eyes shut, his brain played a trick on him. Wove a dark spell that made his body tremble.
No point denying it, no point in trying to fool himself. In his mind, Miranda too had changed places. For a few seconds before he jolted back to his senses, the wandering hands belonged to Hannah Scarlett.
