Helen’s eyes cut to Fay, but Fay was staring at her mug. She then sent Jason a questioning look, wondering if she’d been mad to agree to stay. The thought of a mugger in the house didn’t bother her as much as the idea of having walked in on someone else’s argument.
Jason seemed to pick up on her concern. ‘Don’t worry, Lee’s harmless. You know what I’m trying to do here, Charlie. I don’t judge based on the past, but on what people do now and what they contribute.’
‘He doesn’t contribute anything. The old dear died of fright. You talk to her family about c-c-contribution,’ she mocked.
Jason held his ground. ‘It’s a tough one to swallow, but he’s got to live somewhere. I’d rather it was me making sure he sees his social worker than no one doing it. Besides,’ he added, ‘I think everyone deserves a second chance.’
Chapter Six
‘Do you have a lot of stuff to bring?’ Jason asked when Helen was about to leave. ‘I have a small van if you need transport.’
‘One of those little three-wheeler thingies?’
‘Almost. It has four wheels, though. It’s even got advertising on the sides.’
‘Yeah?’ She cocked her head to one side, gently mocking. ‘What does it say?’
‘Vinyl Destination.’
‘Really?’ She laughed and shook her head. ‘No, it’s all right. I’ve moved around a lot recently, so I don’t have much.’
Part truth, and partly an excuse, Jason thought. Maybe she had been asked to leave from her previous address, and he could guess the reason. Maybe she didn’t want him to run into her old flatmates in case they bad-mouthed her. Keeping him at arm’s length made sense.
This child’s death would weigh heavily on her conscience. It would for anyone, unless they were made of stone, so he hadn’t pressed her when she confided in him on the landing. Instead he’d suggested going back to the kitchen for a cup of coffee to give her some space. His was a policy of one step at a time. When she was ready to talk, he’d listen, but he wouldn’t force any details out of her.
Her caginess and the way she’d looked away, then met his gaze full on as if challenging him told him something else too. A part of her story was a lie, or at least an interpretation of the truth. At this stage it hardly mattered. He’d find out the truth eventually.
He remembered what Neil had pointed out. You don’t get that kind of tan in this country. One thing he was pretty certain of: you didn’t get it in prison either.
This was the piece he had the most trouble fitting into the puzzle, because who would say they had been inside if they hadn’t? It was an odd thing to do. Most ex-offenders would put it off for as long as possible because of prejudice and mistrust in the generally-law-abiding public. And if she’d lied about prison, was the bit about the child also a lie?
It takes one to know one, he thought. Most people would back away when they were up against someone who clearly couldn’t be trusted, but he wasn’t about to because he understood it. Hadn’t he always been vague and skirted around the issue of who his father was and how he made his money?
He saw her to the door and held it open for her. As she passed him, he got a whiff of her perfume, something fresh and floral and strangely at odds with the heavy sadness surrounding her. He liked her scent, and when she brushed against him by accident, a thrill ran through him. He caught her eyes for a nano-second, felt the attraction connecting them by an invisible string. She was the first to look away, but he spotted the faint smile and wondered if the nearness had affected her the same way.
Watching from the top step as she headed back to the main road, he thought of a silly game he used to play with his school mates.
If she turns around, she’s interested.
Her stiff shoulders and self-conscious way of walking told him she knew he was watching her. When she never looked back, he couldn’t say for sure whether this was sheer bloody-mindedness on her part, or whether she truly wasn’t interested in him.
Which was probably just as well if they were to live under the same roof.
Closing the worm-eaten front door, he smiled grimly. She was a total mystery, and he was the idiot walking right into the snare, eyes wide shut. It couldn’t be helped. He had to get to the bottom of it, to satisfy his own curiosity and because she looked like she could do with having someone on her side. After all, he had to practice what he’d preached to Charlie, that everyone deserved a second chance.
Then why did he have this peculiar feeling that a second chance, in the strictest sense of the word, wasn’t what she was seeking?