Gemma poppedinto one of the stores and was set on by a deeply weather-worn,elderly woman who presumably owned or managed the place and who waskeen to extol in surprisingly understandable English the virtues ofthe range of knick-knacks available. There were few tourists aroundand Gemma felt a little sorry for her. Even though she wouldprobably be back before it arrived, Gemma chose a postcard to sendto Victoria and Rebecca, along with a couple of key rings and a mugembossed with scenes of the walled city. She walked further up themain thoroughfare and the distinctive yellow Posta sign soon cameinto view. The post office was set amongst the tradesmen’sworkshops and small shops just off Ulica od Puca to the left of thePlaca itself. Thankfully it was quiet and she sorted enough changeto phone the solicitors and bank if needed. As she had found on theprevious times she’d tried, the solicitors’ phone sounded as if itwas ringing but there was no answer. It took a couple of triesbefore there was an answer from the Barclays branch inLittlehampton, where she had kept their account even after Mark hadbeen added to it when they bought the house in Petworth and movedaway from the town. After she had convinced the cashier there thatshe was a genuine customer – thank goodness she remembered hermother’s maiden name – she was given the balance. It was just under£100. It took a moment to register; that couldn’t be right. Tooconfused to respond, Gemma said thanks and put the phone down in astate of shock that must have been felt a thousand miles away inSussex. She knew that Mark was going to pay for the holiday from itbut there was all the money they’d got from the sale of thepaintings, furniture and everything else from her family’s estate.There should have been thousands in there.
Gemma sat downon one of the metal-framed canvas chairs, conveniently placedaround the large post office hall; it crossed her mind that theywere perhaps there for disturbed customers to gather theirthoughts. After a couple of minutes she got some more dinara coinsfrom the front desk and phoned the bank again. She was answered bythe same man and explained that she couldn’t understand the figurehe had just given her and asked him to check again. Sure enough allbut one hundred pounds had been withdrawn from her current accounton the day before the holiday by one of the account holders. Itmade some kind of sense now, and of course it wasn’t just heraccount.
A surge ofpanic hit her: what if the flat sale had somehow gone ahead withouther knowing? Although it didn’t make much sense, maybe there hadbeen some sort of transfer of funds ready for her buying the flat.However, surely that couldn’t be the case: she was certain she hadkept the Farnham money in a separate account. She tried thesolicitor’s again and eventually they picked up. One of the juniorclerks reassured her.
‘No, there’s been nosign of the completion being sorted on the apartment in HollandPark. And anyway you would have to sign a few more papers beforethat could happen. Is anything the matter?’
Gemma needed tocompose herself; there was no point in letting anything out tillshe’d got to the bottom of things.
‘No, just checkinghow things were, thanks for your help.’
She left the postoffice; she needed to sit down and needed to work things out. Shewent to the nearest café and ordered a black coffee.
So that washis plan, the bastard. All that talk about a final holiday, a niceway to part and so on, but what the hell was he up to? Gemmarealised she hadn’t checked their joint account for weeks, there’dbeen no need to. None of the new cash machines had appeared inPetworth yet and she hadn’t been down to Littlehampton in the lastcouple of weeks, and anyway she’d known it was in a pretty healthystate so there’d been no need to worry. She did a quick mentaltally: with some money she’d put in plus the various things they’dsold from her family’s house she assumed there must have beenaround £50,000, if not more, there; anyway, she could find that outfrom the bank later. The question was, what was she going to doabout it? If he thought he’d get away with it he was even moredeluded than she had imagined.
Her coffee wasstrong and she went to the counter to get a pastry; she needed tokeep her sugar intake up. Okay, she was due to meet Mark at aroundthree o’clock for the trip back to the Uganda and then next morningthey’d agreed to go to Lokrum before the flight back to Gatwick. Ofcourse, it must have been him who’d taken the money, but surely hewouldn’t have done that and then just flown back home with her asif nothing had happened. He must have something else up his sleeve.She realised the most likely explanation was that he was probablyplanning to disappear with it.
Gemma got upand paid for her coffee and pastry. There were a few hours to killso she figured she may as well have a look around the city andgather her thoughts together. The advantage was that Mark wouldhave no idea that she knew and it would be best to keep it that waywhile she decided what to do. He had seemed genuine enough aboutwanting to visit Lokrum tomorrow so it must be after that that heplanned to go. It was a lovely autumnal day so she decided to geton to the city walls and find somewhere to sit and work thingsthrough in her head. On the way up to the Pile Gate, she stoppedand bought a packet of cigarettes
