I turned around, my key in the door. On the other side of the road, just coming out of a pub, were Jill and Aron. They crossed the road towards me.
'Wow,' Jill said, smiling as they approached. 'Talk about coincidence!'
I shook hands with Aron. 'How are you guys?'
'We're good,' Aron replied.
Jill held up her mobile. 'I tried calling you earlier, but you weren't picking up. I figured you were busy with work.'
I fished in my pocket for my phone. It wasn't there. Then I remembered I'd left it on the bed at home.
'That's because, brilliantly, I've forgotten to bring it with me.'
Aron smiled. 'Forty - it happens to us all.'
Jill laughed. 'Oh well, never mind. I was just calling to see if you wanted to come out for a drink. Remember I mentioned it?'
'Oh, of course.'
I did remember. I hadn't purposefully forgotten, but I was glad to have gone out to dinner with Liz instead. Even from the limited conversations I'd had with them both, it was obvious their friendship was developing in a way both of them were enjoying. I didn't want to get between that.
'I'm really sorry,' I said, lying. 'That would have been great.'
'Next time maybe,' Jill said.
I glanced at Aron. He was smiling, and looked as if he wasn't worried whether I said yes or no. If it was for show, or to avoid making me uncomfortable, he was doing a good job.
'Next time,' I said.
'I wanted to thank you, actually, David,' Aron said.
'Really?'
'For going round to see Jill the other night.' He looked at her. She smiled at him. 'I was up in Manchester at a work function, and had my phone off all night.'
'It doesn’t matter,' she said.
'It Does matter,' he replied softly. He turned back to me. 'Anyway, I wanted to thank you for stepping in and helping out.'
I held up a hand. 'Really. It was nothing.'
'Well, it was very good of you.'
I nodded at him. 'Can I give you guys a lift somewhere?'
'Oh, no, don't worry,' Jill said.
'It's only about a quarter of a mile to my place,' Aron added, nodding across the cemetery to where a bank of newly built homes had gone up on the other side. 'You should come over one day. We can celebrate the onset of old age together.'
I smiled. 'I like to live in denial.'
'Then we can live in denial together.'
I shook his hand, but Jill seemed hesitant as I turned to her. I'd promised her I'd make a few calls, though had also said it would be after I cleared the Carver case. It had only been a day since I'd offered. But I could understand her impatience. She wanted to know what happened to Frank, and she didn't want to have to wait now she'd found someone willing to help. I'd left a message with an old contact of mine, who used to work in the National Criminal Intelligence Service before they became part of SOCA. But I hadn't chased it up.
'I haven't forgotten about Frank,' I said.
'Oh, thank you so much.'
I nodded to them both, said goodbye again and got into the BMW. As I headed back to the restaurant to pick up Liz, I looked in the rear-view mirror and saw them side by side, laughing at something, fading into the night.
Liz offered to make me a cup of Kona coffee from the packet I'd bought her so, after parking the car, I wandered around to hers. One of the sofas had folders and loose legal papers scattered across it. I sat down on the second one and could see books with names like
'Fascinating, huh?'
I took one of the mugs. 'I think I'm too terrified to find out.'
'Fortunately I've got a photographic memory.' She winked. 'Actually, that's not true. But I do seem to be good at remembering lots and lots of really boring, really technical things.'
'So if I'm a vampire, Does that make you… a robot?'
She laughed — and then a momentary silence settled between us. 'Thanks for the meal tonight,' she said.
'Thank your friend.'
'No, I mean…' She paused, took a sip from her mug.
'I mean, thanks for asking me out. I know you didn't have to.'
'I didn't have to - but I wanted to.'
She nodded. 'I know how hard this must be.'
I looked at her. Her eyes were dark. She moved a hand to her face and tucked some hair behind one of her ears, and I felt a sudden, unexpected pull towards her.
'Are you okay?' she asked.
I put down my coffee. Liz followed my hand, then looked back up at me. I placed my fingers on hers and eased her mug from her grasp, putting it down next to mine.
Then, slowly, I leaned in and kissed her.
At first she backed away a little, her mouth still on mine, as if she didn't want me to feel like I had to. Then, as I moved a hand to the back of her head and pressed her in harder against me, she responded. We dropped back on to the sofa, me on top of her, feeling her contours and her shape beneath me. I breathed in her scent as we kissed, one of her legs moving between mine. She moaned a little, and a feeling raced through me, like every nerve ending in my body was firing up. When I looked at her, she was staring up at me, her eyes sparking.
And that was when I broke off.
Slowly, the look dissolved in her face.
'I'm so sorry, Liz.'
She reached for one of my arms and squeezed it. 'You don't have to be sorry,' she said gently, but I could see the disappointment in her eyes. Derryn flashed in my head, a series of images that were there and then gone again: the night I first met her, the day we married, the two of us on a beach in Florida, and then at the end of her life - wrapped in sweat-stained sheets - as she lay dying in our bed. I shifted closer to Liz and apologized again, but I'd razed the moment, and what remained between us was exactly what had always been there.
My doubts. My fears. My guilt.
Chapter Twenty-three
When I woke at nine the next morning, the house was cold. I started the fire in the living room and put on some coffee. While I was waiting for it to brew, I padded back through to the bedroom to find my phone. It said I'd missed two calls. The first had been from Jill, as expected, at eight the previous evening. I'd also got a text from her:
Tasker was the contact I'd mentioned in passing to Jill. He was working for the Metropolitan Police now, in an advisory role, but previous to that he'd been part of the National Criminal Intelligence Service, before it was assimilated into SOCA. Like the other sources from my paper days, our relationship was built on being mutually beneficial, but over ten years we'd gradually become good friends. The last time I saw him was at his sixtieth
