‘Can you tell them at work that I'm not violent?' he snuffled. ‘I'll never work again if they think I'm a sexual predator. I can't stand it that people are thinking that about me.'
And because Stevie had once been accused of apple scrumping at school and couldn't bear to see injustice, she said that she would.
When she went back to the cottage, only one light was on and Adam had gone to bed. She knocked gently on his door, but he was obviously asleep and didn't answer.
His plan had worked, after all. Jo was free. There was nothing stopping him going to her.
Stevie didn't think she could bear it.
Adam was awake, tracing the sounds of her footsteps up the stairs, her soft knock on his bedroom door, and he wanted so much to say, ‘I'm here, come into my room. Come into my bed,' but he didn't answer. So it looked as if his plan had worked, after all. Matthew was free and with one click of his fingers, he had managed to get her over the road again. She had leapt out of Adam's arms to go to him. The sand in his hourglass had run out. Matthew was free. There was nothing stopping her going back to him.
Adam didn't think he could bear it.
Chapter 52
Adam had left for the day by the time she had got up the next morning. He must have crept out, Stevie reasoned, because she hadn't heard a thing. In a panic she tore into his bedroom and threw open his wardrobe, but his clothes were still there and she almost wanted to sob with relief. Then she rang Catherine and asked if Danny had been okay. Catherine told her that he had trotted off to school with the others as happy as Larry, and she was going to pick him up as well because Eddie had promised he could go over to the allotment with Boot and Chico, the two dogs, and dig his mum out some veg. Stevie was to come for him after tea at six, and if she even tried to take him away earlier she would be in big trouble with everyone. Then Stevie told her she was the best friend in the world, and Catherine said she knew and demanded chocolates every day of her life, and every single detail of Adam MacLean's willy, if she ever got them. Stevie laughed aloud for the benefit of her friend, but inside she felt hollow, because she knew she never would.
She wrote a text to Adam, asking him if he was okay and could she ring him. Then she deleted it before sending. It was only fair to give him time to come to terms with Jo being available. Of course, Jo would hurt him again, but he loved her and she was his for the taking; Stevie knew that from all the jealous looks Jo had cast her at the barbecue. Adam needed space; all men did. According to Men are from Mars, anyway.
She went over to Matthew's house at nine-thirty as she said she would. The sunlight didn't do him or the house any favours. He hadn't slept, that was obvious. Or shaved, or showered.
‘Who do I need to ask for?' said Stevie, picking up the phone.
‘Colin Seed. He's Head of Personnel. He's been giving me the evil eye. Obviously hates my guts.'
‘What's he like?' said Stevie.
‘Rich, mid-forties, looks seventy, fat, 1982 trousers, eyebrows that vultures could nest in, jowly, drives a Bentley, lives in a big house. He'll be the next CEO in a year, if they don't ship him over to New York now that his mother's carked it,' said Matthew bitterly.
‘Rich, did you say?'
‘Loaded.'
‘And this evil eye – can I make a guess that it's happened quite recently?' said Stevie, her brain downloading info faster than high-speed Broadband.
‘Yes. Do you think that's relevant?'
‘I think it may be,' said Stevie, and picked up the phone.
An hour and a half later, Stevie had just got out of Matthew's car and was walking across the forecourt to the entrance of ‘Doyle International Foods' by the Leeds canal. It was a hip, buzzing, colourful place, full of vitality and people who looked happy enough to be working there. She booked herself in at Reception, under the name Ms B. Pollen, her business with the Head of Personnel being research for her latest book. She had told Colin's secretary on the phone that she only wanted five minutes of his time, and the secretary, who was an avid Midnight Moon fan, had pushed her in a free eleven o'clock slot, on the proviso that she would autograph her copy of Golden Bride.
The secretary collected her from Reception and was twitteringly delighted to meet her in the flesh. After Stevie had autographed the well-thumbed book, she was shown through to Colin Seed's huge corner office, overlooking the canal. It was a very neat, modest office; the office of a man who obviously liked straight lines and things ordered and above board. Minutes later, when Colin Seed walked in, Stevie caught an imaginary whiff of mothballs. It was a shame really, because he wasn't a bad-looking man at all. The love of a good, caring woman could easily have transformed him.
‘Ms Pollen,' said Colin, with a strong handshake but a surprisingly warm smile too that knocked a good fifteen years off his age. He gestured to Stevie to sit down. ‘How can I help you? I'm very intrigued.' He did not say that his recently deceased mum used to read Midnight Moon books, and that the last one she had read was by Beatrice Pollen. That alone had won her court with him today.
‘Mr Seed,' began Stevie, tremulously because Colin had a strong persona and she felt way out of her depth here. ‘I confess, I'm here under false pretences. Yes, I am Beatrice Pollen, but I'm not here about any research. Please forgive my duplicity. I'm here about,' Stevie gulped, ‘Matthew Finch.'
Stevie watched Colin Seed's welcoming smile elope with the warmth in his eyes, and his Adam's apple jump up and down like a fairground test-your-strength machine. However, he surprised her by saying, ‘Go on.'
‘I'm Matthew's ex-partner. I understand he's been sacked for harassing an ex-friend of mine,' the name stuck in her craw, ‘Joanna MacLean.'
‘Amongst other things, yes, that is correct,' Colin answered, stiffening before her eyes.
‘I'm here on my own volition, after I heard the news. Matthew is not a sexual predator. Jo MacLean, however, is an incredibly devious wom-'
‘Thank you, Ms Pollen, but I really do not think this is a matter for discussion with an outside body.' Colin rose, preparing to show Stevie out, but Stevie stood her ground, or rather sat it, and continued to speak. She felt sure now that Colin Seed was personally, as well as professionally involved with Jo MacLean.
‘Please hear me out, Mr Seed, then I will go quietly, but there is too much at stake here for me to leave before I have said what I came here to say. I happen to know Jo MacLean's ex-partner very well too, a lovely, respectable, gentle man – a Mr Adam MacLean – the local Father Christmas for the hospital. He first met her in a car park, crying that she was in a violent relationship … '
‘Ms Pollen … '
‘ … and though not "rich" rich, he's comfortably well off. Then Matthew, Head of Concessions, high-flyer here caught her eye and she was led, I think, to believe that he was quite rich. Surprise, surprise, when did he first start talking to her? In the car park here, crying that she was in a violent relationship and needed to get away. Funnily enough, that relationship started to sour round about the time that she discovered he made church mice look like members of the Getty family. That, for your information, was very recently.'
Colin looked as if he was going to interrupt again, but stayed silent.
‘Then suddenly, Matthew is accused of being violent and predatory, and loses his job. Now, I was very hurt when he left me, so much so that I could have let him rot in this mess, but I can't stand back and watch someone's life be destroyed by malicious lies. Matthew Finch might be guilty of many things, but I'd stake my life on it that sexual violence wouldn't ever be one of them.'
Colin Seed was processing the information. He was using his professionally trained brain to study body language and voice inflections, sifting for lies and truths.
‘One more thing, Mr Seed,' said Stevie with an air of innocence. ‘I'd deduce from Jo MacLean's modus operandi that she has probably found a new partner. A sitting target with a nice house and plenty of money. Someone who happens to meet a crying Jo MacLean in a car park with a heart full of sob stories about her violent ex. She'll probably show them a supposed boot mark on her left thigh that Matthew did. In the same way that she showed it to Matthew and told him Adam did it, and in the same way she showed it to Adam and attributed it to the violence of the ex before that.'