A Question of Guilt(83)

Perhaps keeping the diary had become a bit of a chore, something that she no longer really had the time or enthusiasm for, but which had become too much of a habit to break.

I skimmed on through the pages, and noticed the Gs for George appeared less frequently, whilst LC – Lewis Crighton, presumably – figured more and more. Then, before long, LC became simply L – a sure sign of their growing intimacy, though there was no salacious detail beyond the odd Can’t get L out of my head, and Two whole days before I’ll see L again. Torture!

No doubt about it, the sketchy shorthand was charting an affair.

Besides the budding romance, I could see the story of Brian Jennings’ obsession with Dawn playing out.

BJ gives me the creeps. He just stares at me, she had written. And: Hate having to go to the warehouse. I don’t want to be alone with BJ.

A little further on there was mention of his sacking: L has given BJ his cards. Hurray! The freak won’t be staring at me any more.

Some hope! I thought. Brian Jennings might have no longer been at her place of work, but he’d far from given up on the staring, and things were about to get a lot worse.

Sure enough, it wasn’t long before Dawn started recording the times when Brian Jennings followed her, or stood on the pavement on the opposite side of the road to the flat she and Lisa shared, simply staring up at the windows.

BJ is really freaking me out! He’s been there an hour or more. Lisa thinks I should go to the police, says if I don’t, she will.

And: Police don’t seem interested. Say there’s nothing they can do. If it wasn’t for L I think I’d get out of this place. But nothing on earth is going to make me leave him! Think I’m in love!

The affair was clearly hotting up. There were mentions of clandestine meetings, and even a weekend away.

Two whole nights with L! Bliss! He promised me again that he’ll leave B soon. That he wants to be with me all the time, always, and she makes his life a misery. But I think she put a lot of money into the business, so that will have to be sorted first.

Oh Dawn, Dawn, I thought. Falling for the age-old lies of the philandering married man. It could well be, of course, that it had been Bella’s money that had enabled Lewis to set up his own business, but I’d bet anything that money considerations or not, Lewis didn’t have the slightest intention of leaving Bella for Dawn, or anyone else.

The clock struck five, reminding me that Mum would be home soon, and I skipped on quickly through the pages. I’d read them thoroughly later, but I was really anxious to see if I could spot anything more revealing. I wasn’t disappointed.

Haven’t seen L all day. Phone call (from his partner, I think), and he went out, taking warehouse keys. Puzzled. No house clearances to do, and auction not due for another three weeks. Why does he need to go to the warehouse?

Ah! I sat up straighter, excitement quickening. Dawn’s mother had said she thought that whatever was worrying Dawn was connected with the warehouse, rather than the estate agency, and to Lewis’s mysterious ‘partner’. Might Dawn have recorded more in her diary than she had been prepared to tell Grace? I turned the page, tingling with anticipation, but at that moment I heard the door open, and Mum’s voice calling.

‘It’s only me! I’m back.’

Burning with frustration, I closed the exercise book.

‘Hiya, Mum. How’s Dad?’

‘I can see an improvement every day.’ Mum was unbuttoning her coat. ‘And how did you get on?’

‘Very well, actually. Would you believe that Dawn’s mother doesn’t think her death was an accident either?’

‘Really?’ Mum sounded surprised. ‘Let’s put the kettle on – I’m dying for a cup of tea – and you can tell me all about it.’

I did. The one thing I didn’t mention was the motorcyclist who had seemed to be following us on the way home – the motorcyclist who could very well answer the description of the one who had made the cows stampede. I didn’t want to alarm her. Didn’t want to think about it, even. And not just because if it was one and the same man it could mean that I, and possibly Rachel, too, were in dangerous territory. The fact was that if he was connected in some way to my investigation, then that could mean that I was to blame for Dad’s accident. If it hadn’t been for me, the motorcycle would never have been in the lane. And that was something I couldn’t bear to contemplate.

I didn’t mention it to Josh either. He rang just as we were eating; Mum put my plate in the Aga to keep warm while we talked. Another day’s walking, another B & B, another much-needed beer waiting for him, he told me.