Dangerous Promises

by Roberta Kray

Genres: Mystery

Synopsis

When Sadie Wise strikes up a seemingly innocent conversation with a stranger on a train, the only thing on her mind is finding her husband Eddie and making him sign their divorce papers. She tells Mona that Eddie has been avoiding her for years but now Sadie knows where he is, she can finally be free from him. In Sadie's mind, it's a throwaway moment. In Mona's mind, Sadie is asking Mona to do something very dangerous for her.

That one chance encounter sets off a chain of events involving murder, deception and danger and Sadie soon realises that Mona has taken their meeting very seriously. Because now Mona is everywhere and she won't leave Sadie alone until she's fulfilled her side of their 'deal' . . .

Release date: September 10, 2015

Publisher: Little, Brown Book Group

Print pages: 416

Sample

Sadie Wise was a girl on a mission. She tapped her feet impatiently against the floor and beat out a rhythm on the table with her fingertips. Unfortunately the 3.45 from Liverpool Street didn’t share her sense of urgency. Could the train go any slower? It was crawling along the tracks, stopping and starting as if it couldn’t make up its mind as to what to do next. ‘Come on, come on,’ she murmured. At this rate it would be dark before she even got to Kellston.

She stared through the window at the slums of London’s East End, her gaze taking in the derelict warehouses, the high-rise blocks and the depressing rows of old brick terraces. A pall of despair hung over the area, a greyness that was down to more than the fading light. She began to wonder if this was yet another wild goose chase. Eddie was as slippery as an eel. If he got so much as an inkling that she was on to him, he’d be on his toes and out the door before she could even say the word ‘divorce’.

Sadie gave a sigh, determined not to give up before she’d properly begun. In another fifteen minutes – if they ever managed to get going again – she’d be there. She refocused her gaze, staring briefly at her reflection in the glass: an oval face framed by pale blonde hair, a pair of wide hazel eyes and an expression that was perhaps stupidly hopeful. Don’t wish for too much, she told herself, trying to stay grounded. After all these years, the chances of catching up with her husband were slim.

Sadie pulled her coat around her. The heating wasn’t working properly and a blast of cold air swirled around her feet. She felt the train give another jolt as it continued its slow progress along the line. At that very moment a girl came walking up the aisle, her eyes darting left and right as if searching for a spare seat even though the compartment was almost empty. In her early twenties, she was small and slim, elfin-faced with short black spiky hair. She was wearing jeans and a black suede jacket with a fur collar. Stopping by Sadie, she threw her a smile and slid into the seat on the opposite side of the table.

‘Sodding train! At this rate we’re never going to get there.’

‘I know,’ Sadie said. ‘What’s wrong with it? There was some kind of announcement, but I couldn’t hear a word.’

‘Signals,’ the girl said. ‘Something to do with signal failure.’ She sat back and immediately sat forward again. ‘Where are you going, then?’

‘Kellston.’

‘Oh, right. I’m the stop after.’ She glanced at her watch. ‘God, my dad’s going to do his nut. He’s waiting to pick me up.’

‘It’s not your fault if the train’s late.’

‘He won’t see it like that. He’ll have a go. He always does. He’s the type who expects you to get out and push if the damn thing isn’t going to get there on time. You’ve got no idea what he’s like. He’s a pig, a complete bastard.’ She paused and then added, ‘He’s a huge fan of Thatcher,’ as if this political allegiance was the final nail in the coffin when it came to his damnation.

Sadie’s eyebrows shifted up a fraction. Unsure as to how to respond, she decided to say nothing. Her silence, however, didn’t put the girl off.

‘Not that he actually is my dad. I don’t reckon so, anyway. Knowing my mother, it could be any number of blokes. She was never the faithful sort. Bit of a slapper, if you get my drift. Can’t blame her for it, though. Being married to him is enough to drive anyone to drink – and the rest.’ She stopped to take a breath and smiled again. ‘I’m Mona, by the way, Mona Farrell. May as well introduce myself as we seem to be stuck on this nightmare journey together.’

Sadie reflected that they wouldn’t actually be there together if Mona hadn’t deliberately sat down opposite to her, but there was little she could do about it now. The girl was definitely odd, hyped up, but it was difficult to tell whether this was her natural personality or if she was under the influence of something. ‘Sadie.’

‘Hi, Sadie.’ She glanced at Sadie’s holdall that was sitting on the seat next to her. ‘Do you live in Kellston, then?’

‘No, just visiting.’

‘Strange place to visit.’

‘Is it?’ Sadie studied the girl’s face, the very pale skin and the small rosebud mouth that had been painted bright red. She wasn’t pretty exactly, but there was something striking about her, a certain force behind the eyes. A whiff of perfume floated in the air – it might have been Chanel – accompanied by the faint smell of alcohol. ‘I don’t think I’ll be there for long.’

‘Nobody stays in Kellston for long, not if they can help it.’ Mona glanced down at the file that was lying open in front of Sadie. ‘Sorry, are you trying to work? I know I can go on a bit. Just tell me to shut up if I’m disturbing you.’

Although Sadie thought the girl strange, she was also a distraction, and anything was better than her own company at the moment. ‘It’s okay,’ she said, placing her hand on the private investigator’s report. She’d read it so many times she virtually knew it off by heart. ‘I’m finished here. I’m all done.’

Mona’s gaze settled on the photo that was clipped to the top page. She leaned in to get a closer look. ‘Who’s that then?’

‘His name’s Eddie Wise. He’s my husband. Although I’m hoping he won’t be for too much longer. I’m trying to track him down, sort out a divorce.’

‘What, done a disappearing act, has he?’

‘Yes, well, he did that years ago – and cleaned me out while he was about it.’ Sadie wasn’t sure why she told the girl this. It was just an impulse, a combination of anger and frustration. Sometimes the mere thought of Eddie was enough to make her hackles rise. ‘He emptied our joint bank account, every last penny, and then cleared off without a word.’

Mona gave a snort. ‘No way! What a bastard!’

The last private detective Sadie had employed had traced Eddie to Southampton, to Portsmouth and then to East London, where the trail had finally gone cold. Or had it? She wasn’t completely convinced. The investigator had been a sly, patronising sort of man and perhaps not entirely trustworthy. It was possible that Eddie had bunged him a few quid to keep his mouth shut. ‘I think he may be in Kellston. It’s where he grew up.’

‘Can I have I look?’ Mona asked, pointing to the upside-down photo. ‘I may have seen him around.’

Sadie glanced at the picture, finding it hard to believe that this was the face she’d woken up to every morning for seven years. A handsome face – there was no denying it – but not an honest one. The photo had been taken a few weeks before Eddie had done a bunk. That had been almost five years ago, on New Year’s Day, 1981; the date was forever engraved on her memory. She turned the file around and pushed it across the table. ‘Help yourself.’

Mona inclined her head and stared hard at the photograph. ‘No,’ she said after a while. ‘Can’t say I recognise him.’ Her eyes skimmed through some of the other information on the top sheet of paper before rising to meet Sadie’s again. ‘How long were you married for?’

‘Too long,’ Sadie said. They called it the seven-year itch, didn’t they? Except Eddie had always been scratching, right from the moment they’d exchanged their wedding vows.

‘So when did you start looking for him?’

‘Ages ago, but he’s always been one step ahead. He’s probably worried that I’ll want my money back, but I don’t. I don’t care about it any more. I just want to be free of him.’

‘Maybe he doesn’t want to be free of you.’

‘No, I’m sure he doesn’t.’ Sadie gave a rueful smile. ‘Although not because he still cares. It’s probably so that no other woman can get her claws into him. I’m the perfect excuse for why he can’t tie the knot with someone else.’

‘That’s the thing about men. They don’t care about anyone but themselves.’

Sadie glanced out of the window again, her thoughts tumbling back to the past. Of course she’d been asking for trouble, rushing into marriage when she was only nineteen. Head over heels in love, young, crazy and blindly romantic. Although she couldn’t deny that it had been fun at the start – one long round of pubs and clubs and concerts – the novelty had soon faded. As she’d started to grow up, things had altered between them. For Eddie, life was a party and that was never going to change. Mention getting a regular job and he’d let out a groan. Paying the monthly rent was always at the bottom of his list of priorities. Ducking and diving was what he was best at, although as it turned out he wasn’t particularly good at that.

Sadie recalled the loan sharks who’d come knocking at the door only days after he’d left. Eddie had been running up debts right, left and centre, leaving her to face the music when his fragile house of cards eventually collapsed. The final straw had come a month later when Theresa Rimmer showed up at the flat, heavily pregnant and looking for the daddy. Sadie might have felt sorry for her if it wasn’t for the fact that the cow had been shagging her husband behind her back. It was at this point that she’d decided she’d had enough, packed her bags and headed up north.

‘Sadie?’

Sadie turned her head to look at Mona again. ‘Sorry, I was miles away.’

‘I was just saying, what about his family? Don’t they know where he is?’

‘I’m sure they do, but they’re not telling me. Covering his back as usual.’ She was maybe revealing too much, but it didn’t really matter, did it? Chances are she’d never see the girl again and it was an opportunity to vent, to get some stuff off her chest. ‘His parents live over in Essex, Romford way, and I’ve told them that all I want is a divorce, but they still keep insisting that they don’t know where he’s living.’

‘I hate men,’ Mona said, worrying on her lower lip. ‘They’re all bastards, the whole damn lot of them.’

‘Not all of them,’ Sadie said, thinking of Joel. He was a gem, sweet and smart and understanding. She still couldn’t believe her luck. After all the miserable years with Eddie, she’d wondered if she would ever be happy again. But she was happy now, except for one small fly in the ointment. She really needed this divorce. Once she’d legally disentangled herself, she could have a fresh start in a marriage that was based on something deeper than a mutual appreciation of real ale and The Clash.

‘Have you met someone else?’

Sadie nodded. ‘Yes. He’s a nice guy, really nice. I just want to get the papers signed and move on with my life.’

Mona pulled a face as if to imply there was no such thing as a nice guy, before returning to her earlier subject. ‘My dad’s a control freak, wants to know what I’m doing every minute of the day. It’s weird. He’s weird. Actually he’s worse than that. He’s fat and vile and disgusting.’ She put her elbows on the table and stared at Sadie. ‘I wish he was dead.’

Sadie looked back at her, startled. ‘You don’t mean that.’

‘I’d kill him myself if I could get away with it. I’d creep up on him in the middle of the night and slit his throat from ear to ear.’ She made a cutting motion with the side of her hand. ‘Straight through the arteries. It wouldn’t take long. He’d be dead in minutes.’

Sadie gave an involuntary shiver. Was she serious? There was a smile tugging at the corners of the girl’s mouth, but there was also a malevolent glint in her eyes. ‘You’d spend a long time inside for that.’

‘Only if I got caught. That’s the trick you see, not to get caught.’ Mona paused, her forehead creasing into a frown. ‘People do get away with murder. Have you ever seen that film, Strangers on a Train?’

‘I’ve read the book,’ Sadie said cautiously.

‘Oh, is there a book? I don’t read much. I don’t like reading. But it was the perfect plan, don’t you think? You get a total stranger to kill the person you hate and because they’ve got no motive, there’s no reason for the cops to ever suspect them. It’s a done deal. You could kill my father and I could kill Eddie.’

Sadie shifted in her seat. The conversation was starting to unnerve her. ‘Except I don’t want Eddie dead. All I want is a divorce.’

‘But what if he won’t sign the papers? You might have to wait years to get it sorted. By then your new guy could have lost interest. And anyway this Eddie sounds like a real piece of work. I mean, what sort of bloke behaves like that? It’s sick.’

Sadie pulled the file back across the table, snapped it shut and stored it in her holdall. ‘It didn’t work, though, did it?’ she said in what she hoped was a suitably dismissive tone. ‘In the book, I mean. The two of them didn’t get away with it. And one of them didn’t even want his wife dead.’

‘Sometimes people don’t know what they want. And the plan only went wrong because Bruno was a drunk and didn’t stick to the rules. If there’s no communication, there’s no connection. The cops wouldn’t have anything to go on.’

Sadie had the feeling that this wasn’t the first time Mona had thought about such an arrangement. The girl, she decided, was a fantasist. Did that make her dangerous? Probably not, but it still didn’t make for comfortable listening. Thankfully the train had picked up speed again and would soon be arriving in Kellston. She tried to steer the conversation back on to neutral territory. ‘So where do you live, then?’

‘Hampstead, 12 Constance Avenue. You can’t miss it. It’s a bloody great mansion, got turrets on the roof and everything. Tennis courts, swimming pool, eight bedrooms – and there’s only the three of us living there. How ridiculous is that? And there are marble floors everywhere. I hate it. The place is like a goddamn mausoleum.’

Sadie’s eyebrows shifted up again. ‘I dare say there are worse places. I’ve lived in some real dives in my time.’

But Mona, even if she’d heard, didn’t take any notice. ‘You know how he gets his money, don’t you? He makes guns and rockets and stuff, shit for people to kill each other with.’ Her face took on a hard, angry expression. ‘People like him shouldn’t be allowed to live. All he brings is pain and misery. I’d be doing the world a favour by getting rid. Of course the house is alarmed – he’s bloody terrified of anyone breaking in – but I know the code. I could easily turn it off.’

Sadie began to gather her things together, willing the train to get into the station. Mona was freaking her out. The sooner she was away from her the happier she’d be. She knew that the train wasn’t going anywhere near Hampstead and so she asked, ‘You’re not on your way home then?’

‘Of course not. I’m going to see…’ Mona hesitated. ‘I have to go somewhere, see someone. He doesn’t trust me on my own so he always picks me up and takes me there. He’s paying by the hour, you see, so he can’t bear to be late. He’s a fucking millionaire but he hates the thought of wasting a penny.’ Mona scratched at the skin on her wrist with her scarlet fingernails. ‘It’s a joke. It really is.’

Sadie didn’t push her on who she was going to see. She didn’t want to know. She had already learned more about Mona Farrell’s life than she wanted. ‘Right,’ she murmured. Feeling the train beginning to slow, she breathed out a sigh of relief. Quickly she rose to her feet and grabbed her holdall. ‘Well, nice to meet you. Take care.’

‘I hope you find him.’

‘Thanks.’ Sadie made her way through the compartment, resisting the urge to glance over her shoulder. She had a sudden fear that the girl might decide to follow her, like one of those stray dogs that attach themselves and refuse to go away. It was only when the doors opened and she was about to step out on to the platform that she risked a quick look back. The seat was empty. Mona was gone. And suddenly the whole strange encounter felt like a figment of her imagination.

A bitter wind blew the length of the platform, making Sadie shiver. She turned up the collar of her coat as she hurried towards the steps that would take her out of the station. Now all she had to do was find somewhere to stay, somewhere cheap she could use as a base until she caught up with Eddie. She couldn’t afford to waste money on a fancy hotel. The private detective had cost her a fortune, although whether it had been cash well spent remained to be seen. Maybe Eddie had already moved on, concerned that she was snapping at his heels.

As she emerged on to the small but busy concourse, her eyes automatically raked the faces as if by some miracle her husband might be in the crowd. But of course it would never be that easy. She felt a wave of tiredness wash over her as she contemplated all the pubs and clubs and cafés she would need to check out over the next few days. And what if it was all a waste of time? No, she couldn’t afford to think like that. She had to stay positive, to believe that she would eventually find him.

Sadie’s knowledge of Kellston was slight. She had only been here once before, years ago when Eddie had shown her the place where he’d been born. What she did remember, however, was the row of guest houses on Station Road. As she walked through the exit, she was relieved to find that they were still there.

The big red-brick Victorian houses, once home to the wealthy middle classes, had long since fallen into disrepair, the exteriors shabby, the interiors divided and subdivided into as many money-making rooms as possible. Most of them had a Vacancies sign in the window.

Sadie crossed the road, weaving between the cars that were waiting for the traffic lights to change. She hurried along the row, peering at all the houses. Which bell was she going to ring? There was plenty of choice, but little way of knowing what the actual accommodation would be like. With the cold nipping at her face and fingers, she decided to take pot luck and plumped for one called Oaklands, purely on the grounds that there was a light on in the porch.

The woman who answered the door was elderly, small and thin with a tight, blue-tinted perm. ‘Yes?’

‘Hello,’ Sadie said. ‘I’m after a room for a few days. A single. Do you have anything available, please?’

The woman looked Sadie up and down as if she’d come for a job interview, her beady eyes raking her body from head to toe. ‘I only rent out by the week. That any good for you?’

‘How much is it?’

She gave the price, paused and then added, ‘That includes breakfast and a change of sheets.’

Sadie hesitated. It was hardly extortionate but she could, perhaps, find something cheaper if she kept on looking. And would she really need it for a whole week? The cold, however, was starting to creep over her and all she wanted was to get inside and get warm. ‘Okay,’ she said. ‘That’s fine.’

‘I’ll be needing the money up front.’

Sadie reached into her bag, took out the purse and passed the notes over. Only then did the landlady step aside and allow her into the hall.

‘What name is it?’

‘Sadie, Sadie Wise.’

‘Right, well, I’m Mrs Cuthbert. The house rules are: no visitors, no noise and no food in the rooms. Breakfast is available from seven to nine-thirty.’ She waved a hand in the general direction of the far end of the hallway. ‘Along there, in the dining room. Cereal and toast. If you want something hot there’s a café on the high street.’

‘Okay.’

‘It’s the second floor,’ said Mrs Cuthbert, pulling a key out of her pocket. ‘Number six, on the right off the landing. I won’t come up with you, dear. I’ve got the arthritis and these stairs play buggery with my knees.’

Sadie gave a nod, took the key and began to climb upstairs. ‘Thank you.’ The inside of the guest house was clean, if somewhat down at heel. The décor probably dated back to the Fifties, the paintwork was chipped and the rail of the banisters worn to a shine by the number of palms that had travelled along it. As she made the ascent her thoughts flew back to the girl on the train. It had been a strange meeting and one that she was glad to put behind her. There had been something highly disturbing about Mona Farrell.

Sadie reached the second landing and quickly found number six. As she put the key in the lock, she could hear the tinny sound of a radio coming from the room opposite: Jennifer Rush’s ‘The Power of Love’. She pushed open the door and flicked on the light, her heart sinking a little as she saw what lay beyond.

The room was about twelve foot square, sparsely furnished with a single bed, a ramshackle wardrobe, a chair and a chest of drawers. The beige carpet was threadbare and the faded flowery wallpaper was peeling in places. It smelled musty, as if it had been unoccupied for a while. She took a deep breath, refusing to be downhearted. What did it matter? She wouldn’t be here for long.

Sadie went in, threw her bag on the bed and walked over to the window. The room overlooked the main road, and to the right she could see the station and to the left a pub called the Fox. A roar of traffic came through the glass, a rush of cars, buses and taxis. Every now and again, as the lights changed, the noise dropped to the more gentle sound of engines ticking over.

It was cold in the room and there was no central heating. She quickly turned, crouched down and tried to light the gas fire. For some reason it wouldn’t come on. Was it broken? She twisted the switch but again nothing happened. It was then that she heard the voice behind her.

‘It’s on a meter, hon. You’ll have to pop in a 50p.’

Sadie looked over her shoulder to where a woman was standing in the open doorway. She was tall, in her forties, and was wearing a short brown leather skirt, cream blouse and knee-high boots. ‘Oh, right. Thanks, I didn’t realise.’

‘The Cuthbert didn’t tell you, huh?’

Sadie stood up and smiled. ‘No, she didn’t mention it.’

‘Must have slipped her mind. She gets mighty forgetful when it suits her. You don’t get nothin’ for nothin’ in this place.’ The woman gave a snort. ‘I’m Velma, by the way. The room across the hall.’

‘Hi, I’m Sadie.’

‘Nice to meet you, Sadie. So what brings you to Oaklands?’

Sadie got her purse out of her bag and began to search for the money. ‘It’s a long story, but I’m only going to be around for a week or so.’

‘That’s what I said, hon. And twelve years later I’m still here.’

‘Twelve years?’

Velma gave a rueful smile. ‘Well, it might not be cheerful but at least it’s cheap. You need a 50p, babe? I’ve probably got one.’

‘No, it’s okay.’ Sadie finally found a couple of coins and bent down again to slip them into the meter. This time when she turned the switch the fire gave a pop and roared into life. ‘That’s better,’ she said, rubbing her hands in front of the flames.

‘You look frozen. Fancy a cuppa? I’ve just brewed up.’

‘God, I’d love one. It was icy on that train.’ Sadie followed her neighbour across the landing. This room was much bigger with pale blue walls and a pair of heavy, dark blue velvet drapes drawn across the window. It was warmer too with the fire on full blaze. There was a sink, a double bed, a table, an armchair, a portable TV and even a few plants.

Velma turned the radio down and busied herself with the teapot. ‘Where are you from then?’

‘Haverlea. It’s a small town up north, near Liverpool.’ Saying it reminded Sadie of Joel and she made a mental note to give him a call from one of the phone boxes outside the station. Already she was missing him and counting down the days until she could go home.

‘This your first time in London?’

‘No, I’ve been here before. I lived in Tufnell Park for a few years.’

‘Milk and sugar?’

‘Just milk, thanks.’

‘You take the chair,’ Velma said, passing her a mug. ‘I can sit on the bed.’

Sadie sat down and took a welcome sip of tea. ‘Lord, I needed that. Thanks very much.’

‘That’s okay, hon. Anything you need, you only have to ask.’

Sadie hesitated. ‘Well…’

‘Go on. What is it?’

‘Well, the reason I’m here is that I want to find my husband and get him to sign the divorce papers. I don’t suppose you’ve got any brilliant ideas on that, have you? He’s avoiding me. In fact, the bugger’s been avoiding me for years.’

‘What’s his name, love?’

‘Eddie, Eddie Wise.’

Velma gave a shake of her head. ‘Can’t say I’ve heard of him. You could try the Fox across the road. The landlord, Tommy Quinn, knows most people round here, all the regulars anyway. Or you could ask his missus, Moira. What makes you think he’s in Kellston?’

Sadie told her story as she drank the tea. Up close, she realised that Velma was probably in her fifties rather than her forties. The woman was wearing a lot of make-up, a thick layer of foundation and heavy eyeliner. Her hair, long and wavy, was a solid, unnatural-looking black. She had a kind face, however, the sort that invited confidences.

‘You got a picture of this Eddie?’ Velma asked.

‘Hang on a sec.’ Sadie stood up, went to her room and retrieved the photo from her holdall. She came back and passed it over. ‘This was taken almost five years ago but I don’t imagine he’s changed that much.’

‘Good-looking guy,’ Velma said, holding the picture at arm’s length.

‘And doesn’t he know it.’

Velma smiled. ‘Yeah, they’re the worst. Bit of a ladies’ man, huh?’

‘You could say that.’

‘They’re not worth the trouble, babe. You’re better off without him. What does he do in the work line?’

‘Good question,’ Sadie said. ‘About as little as he can get away with, usually. He doesn’t do nine to five, and whatever it is, it’ll probably be dodgy.’

Velma gave her back the photo. ‘Ah, right, then you might want a word with Nathan Stone. He knows all the faces round here.’

‘Nathan Stone?’

‘Terry Street’s right-hand man.’ Then seeing Sadie’s blank expression, she added, ‘Terry runs this manor. There’s not a villain farts round here without him knowing about it. If Eddie’s working for someone, Nathan will be able to tell you who. He’s usually in Ramones between six and eight. It’s a bar round the corner. Turn right out of the house and then left at the lights. You can’t miss it. He’ll be sitting at the back.’

Sadie pulled a face, not exactly relishing the prospect of approaching a local gangster. She’d met a few iffy characters in her time with Eddie, but no one in this kind of league. ‘Why should he tell me, though? Blokes tend to stick together and he doesn’t know me from Adam.’

‘Yeah, he’s a bloke, hon, so use your charms. It’s not as though you’re the law or anything. All you want is to get a few papers signed. Be persuasive and I’m sure he’ll see it from your point of view.’

‘Persuasive?’ Sadie echoed, raising her eyebrows.

‘You know what I mean. Just be nice, flutter your eyelashes and play the little girl lost. You’ll be fine. Nathan’s got a weakness for blondes so it shouldn’t be too hard.’

‘You think?’ Sadie didn’t feel entirely comfortable with the idea. ‘And what if he tells me that he doesn’t know where Eddie is and then tips him the wink as soon as I’m out of sight? The weasel’s going to be gone from Kellston in five minutes flat.’

Velma gave a shrug. ‘So what’s the alternative? You could visit every pub and club in the district and still not find him. At least this way you’ve got a chance, and you could save yourself a lot of legwork too.’

‘I suppose.’

Velma put down her mug and glanced at her watch. ‘I’d come with you only there’s somewhere I’ve got to be. Sorry.’

Sadie, taking the hint, quickly rose to her feet. ‘Oh, that’s okay. Thanks again for the tea – and the tip about Nathan.’

‘No worries. Good luck, then. Let me know how it goes.’

‘I will.’

Sadie went back to her room, closed the door and walked over to the window. It was ten to five and dark outside. She stood and watched the traffic, mulling over what Velma had told her. Should she go and see Nathan Stone? She found the idea daunting, but she wasn’t overjoyed at the thought of slogging round all the local pubs either. Perhaps, all things considered, it was the lesser of two evils.

She pulled the curtains across and began to unpack. It didn’t take her long. All she’d brought with her were some clothes and toiletries, the file on Eddie and a couple of books. As she shoved her things into a drawer, she hoped her stay would be a short one. The room was small and depressing and already the walls were closing in on her.

After a while, she heard Velma’s door click shut, followed by the sound of footsteps on the stairs. Sadie felt a pang of guilt that she’d spent ten minutes offloading all her own problems and not asked the woman anything about herself. It was hardly polite, was it? Well, she’d have to find a way to make it up to her, maybe take her for a drink at the Fox once this business with Eddie was sorted.

Sadie sighed into the silence of the room. She felt that peculiar loneliness that often comes from being in a large city, surrounded by millions of people but not really knowing anyone. Joel had offered to take a few days off work and come with her, but she’d passed on it. Even though Eddie didn’t have a faithful bone in his body, he’d still get the hump if she turned up with someone else. He was perverse like that. And anyway that hadn’t been the only reason she’d wanted to come alone. Eddie was the past and Joel was the future, two different parts of her life that she preferred to keep separate.

‘Time to move on,’ she murmured.

And there was only one way to do that. She rummaged in her bag, took out her make-up and prepared to meet Nathan Stone.

Sadie was feeling a mix of emotions as she emerged from the phone box and began to walk towards the high street. Just hearing Joel’s voice again was enough to cheer her up, but it also reminded her of how much she missed him. In her head, she could see him standing in the workroom with the phone pressed against his ear. She could see his mop of tawny hair and his kind brown eyes. She could almost smell the cherry and the oak and the maple, all the woods he used to make his beautiful furniture.

Sadie loved that room with the floor covered in shavings, the tall windows and flood of light. She loved to watch Joel work, to see his strong hands plane and turn and shape the wood. He was a craftsman and an artist. There was something almost spiritual in his acts of creation. He was a religious man, although not in a bible-thumping kind of way; he went to church, helped out in the community, but never forced his views on to anyone else. She knew that he brought out the best in her, that she had become a nicer and a kinder person through knowing him.

The only point he wouldn’t compromise on, however, was the two of them having kids before they married. And at thirty, Sadie’s biological clock was starting to tick. She wished she’d been smarter and cut the ties with Eddie years ago. Why had she wasted so much time on him? The main reason – and she wasn’t especially proud of it – was that she hadn’t wanted to be proved wrong. And she especially hadn’t wanted to hear her mother say, I told you so. A part of her had gone on believing that one day she would change him. Ha! If false pride was a sin then she was definitely guilty of it.

The temperature had dropped a few degrees and despite her warm jacket, jeans and jumper, Sadie was still cold. She hunched her shoulders, turned the corner and began to walk south along the high street. A freezing wind whipped around her head, making her teeth chatter. She hadn’t mentioned Nathan Stone to Joel, thinking he would only worry about it. Going to visit a local gangster hadn’t exactly been on her list of things to do when it came to searching for Eddie, but if that’s what it took…

It was another twenty yards before she came across the blue neon sign of Ramones. She stopped outside and peered through the glass. The place was quiet with just a couple of girls sitting at the bar. She hesitated, nerves causing butterflies to flutter in her stomach. Was she doing the right thing? God, she didn’t even know what the guy looked like. And what if he point blank refused to help her? Well, there was only one way to find out.

Sadie put on her confident face as she pushed open the door and stepped inside. The room was dimly lit with soft jazz music playing in the background. The two girls turned to stare at her and the barman glanced up from the . . .