That she wants to help me out provides a momentary lift. I glance at the clock, my eyes falling on a letter from Bracken Furniture. My gaze returns to the desk. “In twenty minutes,” I tell her. “He’ll be pleased to see you.”
“Right. I’ll hang around for him then.”
“How did you get on at the station?”
“In and out. It was procedure, they said. Though you might want to know that they were asking questions about your relationship with Rob.”
“Like what?”
“You know. Were there any problems? That sort of thing.”
“What did you say?”
“The truth. That it seemed alright to me. That you’d had your ups and downs, but who doesn’t? I didn’t say that I don’t know what you ever did to deserve such a secure life with a half-decent husband.” That’s Mum all over. She builds me up slightly, then tears me back down. Probably to make sure that I fall from a greater height.
I end the call, then ring school to allow for her to collect Jack. The receptionist asks if I’m OK.
I’m grateful for the extra time I’ve now got to poke around in here. I don’t know if it will give me any clues as to where our money has gone, or what Rob has been up to, but it’s worth a look.
I turn my attention back to the letter, signed by Phillip Bracken.
Without prejudice
I refer to our meeting of last Friday 4th June at 3pm, attended by myself, David Myers, Deputy CEO and yourself.
As you know, you are under investigation for the disappearance of monies totalling £122,000, which were found to have been paid into your personal bank account. You are also being investigated for fraudulent documents found in the drawer of your desk.
Following your failure to explain the situation, or return the funds, I am left with no alternative than to bring formal proceedings against you.
I am writing to inform you that these will be instigated immediately.
You were suspended without pay on Wednesday 6 May and must continue not to enter the premises of Bracken Furniture, nor must you contact any employee or customer of the company, directly or indirectly.
You can, and are advised to, seek legal counsel as we look to be compensated for our losses. We request, in the meantime, that the sum of £122,000 is repaid to us.
Sincerely, Phillip Bracken, Managing Director
I pick the phone up again. “Good afternoon. Can I speak to Mr Bracken please?”
“Certainly. Who’s calling, please?”
“It’s Fiona Matherson.”
“Erm. I’m sorry. He’s not available.”
“I really need to talk to him. Can you tell him it’s urgent?”
“I’ll pass a message on. That’s the best I can do, I’m afraid.”
I have no choice other than to accept the best she can do. However, I know for a fact that she was about to put the call through, until she discovered it was me.
“Mummy.” Jack’s voice echoes through the house.
I decide to leave all this for the time being and head down the stairs to see him. I still need to speak to James Turner, but I want to see what else I can find first.
“Granny Maggie picked me up from school.” He is smiling, and it’s good to see. “Everyone was looking at her. I had to tell them she is my Grandma.”
“You know I don’t like being called that.”
I glance at her as she slides her feet into mules, expecting her to be smiling, but she’s not. “Have your friends taken care of you today?” I ask. I’m still not sure that he should have been at school, but it does appear to have done him some good. He looks brighter than this morning.
“Yes. Sam could sit with me all day. Sometimes he has to sit on a different table for literacy and numeracy, but today, he didn’t have to. His mum came to talk to me at the end of school too to see if I wanted a sleepover again soon.”
“She seems really nice,” Mum adds. “Plenty of money too, looking at her. What does she do?”
“I’m not sure.”
“More than you do, I would expect.”
I resist the temptation to laugh. Mum has lived off Dad’s hard work for the whole of their married life. She lets the bun out of her dark hair, and it swings above her shoulders. Her grey roots are coming through; it won’t be long before she’s at the hairdressers. It’s the length I’d like mine cutting to, but I think I would fear looking too much like her. I used to be pleased when I was told we were alike. However, since I’ve become a mother myself, I recoil at the chill that exists within her and am scared of being anything like her, looks or otherwise. I cannot understand the indifference she has always shown towards me.
“Someone called Bryony said hello to Jack as well.” Mum smiles.
The hairs stand up on the back of my neck. “Bryony. What was she doing at school?”
“She’s Ella Partridge’s auntie,” Jack explains. “But I’ve been to her house with Dad before.”
“You have?” I feel a crawling sensation over my skin. Rob has taken Jack to her house?
“I saw her at the station earlier as well. Pretty, isn’t she?”
“At the police station?”
“Yes. I was in the waiting room when she arrived. I got called in then though.”
“So you didn’t find out why she was there?”
“No.”
“Would you mind looking after Jack for an hour? I could do with a walk. I need to clear my head.”
“I suppose so. As long as you’re not long. I’ve got some calls to make.”
I slide my feet into flip-flops. I’ve got to get out of here.
“Where are you going, anyway?”
“I need to find out what she was doing at the police station.”
“Let it all go,” Mum calls after me as I open the first door onto the porch. “There’s no point acting on anything. With Bryony, I mean. Not now.”
I look back at them. Jack looks puzzled but seems happy to be
