Predisposed To Murder - Chapter Fourteen

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

“You stupid girl…! What are you trying to do, poison me? You know I take sugar in my tea.”

“Sorry,” muttered Pip Sparrow as she handed the older woman a sugar bowl and abruptly left the table.

“I know you’re fond of the girl, Nina dear, but I really can’t think why. Frankly, she gives me the creeps.” Pip heard Nina’s mother say as she closed the door. She disliked Pat Fox with an intensity that sometimes frightened her. The woman had only been staying a few days and there was already an appalling atmosphere. Nina had managed to take some time off from shooting April Showers so she, Pip, was stuck with the pair of them since school was closed for half term. Nor was it a coincidence, she was certain, that her father had suddenly announced on the very first evening of Pat’s stay that he had important business in Prague and would be leaving first thing in the morning.

Having tried calling several friends and getting no response, Pip decided to visit Sammy. She had become fond of Nina’s cat and, besides, she might even catch Ray or his friend Max Cutler. But what was she thinking? She wasn’t bothered about seeing Ray, she only longed, passionately, for just a glimpse of Max. They had only met once, in passing, when she had accompanied Nina to the flat some weeks earlier. She had been so struck by his good looks, charm, and easy manner she had even dreamed about him on several occasions. This alarmed her. She had never dreamed about a boy in her life before. Even Zack Danvers, the school captain who was invariably the favourite topic of gossip and chat among all the girls, had never dared trespass into her dreams.

Neither Zack nor Max could hold a candle to her father, of course, but that was only to be expected. Her father was perfect and featured in her dreams all the time.

Only once since the fire had she dreamed about her mother or brother and that had been a nightmare. She had awoken, screaming, in her father’s bed. In spite of cuddling up to him, his soothing voice washing over her like a friendly shower, the horror had taken a long time to drain away and let her sleep. Even now, the memory of that horror - she could recall nothing of the nightmare itself - made her want to run and hide. Only, there was no hiding place. It was a sobering thought, and not one upon which she had any inclination to dwell.

It didn’t take long, on a double-decker bus, to reach the flat in Brixton. She knew where Nina kept the front door key so obtaining a copy had posed no problem. Should Nina ever discover she’d visited the flat alone, she would simply say she’d come on impulse to see Sammy and found a window open. Nina would not believe her of course but would almost certainly let the matter drop rather than risk her father finding out that she had no more intention of having the cat put down than selling the flat. A sly smile crossed the girl’s face. She’d have told her father so herself had it not been to her own advantage to keep quiet. Besides, it had to be useful to have a hold of sorts over someone…didn’t it?

Sammy, accustomed to the girl’s visits, neither mewed nor came to investigate but merely opened one eye, saw who it was, chose to ignore her completely and continued snoozing on the kitchen windowsill. Forgetting the old cat was her excuse for being here, Pip raided the fridge for a carton of cranberry juice and a tub of chocolate ice cream. She was tucking in when she noticed the mobile phone on the table and recognized it instantly. It belonged to Nina, who was always misplacing it and had been complaining about not being able to find it for days. Pip picked it up and idly keyed in to see who Nina had been calling recently when sounds above made her start. She could hear people moving about; people, not just one person. Her heart leapt. That meant Ray was at home, possibly Max too since they were mates. Hastily draining her glass and finishing off the last scoop of ice cream, she made her way to the communal hall and upstairs. She heard raised voices, both male. Then everything went very quiet.

For a while she sat on the top stair considering a variety of excuses for knocking on the door. Having finally settled on one she got up and knocked. No one replied but, to her surprise, the door swung slightly ajar. Knowing how security conscious Ray was about Nina’s flat, it seemed odd, to say the least, that he could be so careless about his own.

Intrigued, but only slightly concerned, Pip entered.

The first thing that entered Pip’s head was that Nina’s flat was by far the nicer of the two regarding décor and furnishings. But this one had a sense and smell of masculinity that she found to her liking. She thought she heard noises and tiptoed close to a door on her right. It did not occur to her to call out or, if it did, she dismissed the idea out of hand.  The sure knowledge that she had no right to be there gave her a delicious thrill. Adrenalin coursed her veins and stroked her skin with a sensuality she was loath to surrender.

This door, too, was ajar. Pip peeped inside. Her eyes widened and the adrenalin pumped even faster as, a little frightened but fascinated nonetheless, she observed the sexual antics of two men on the bed. The man on his back, she recognized at once as Ray Bannister. Of the other, his body lifted at an angle, she only had a rear view but commonsense told her it had to be Max Cutler.

She hadn’t realized either man was gay. Nor had she quite grasped that two men could enjoy sex together. Until now, gay sex had meant nothing more or less than juicy playground gossip about a teacher at the school and whether his partner was male or female since no one seemed to know for sure. Whether or not there was any truth in it, the rumour continued to spread and had recently homes in on another male teacher. But this…this was no idle gossip or rumour; this was the real thing.

So, Ray and Max are lovers. Who’d have guessed? Putting aside her own feelings for Max Cutler, Pip continued to watch as the two men huffed and puffed and grunted their way to a climax like two pigs rutting. The image amused her, and she would carry it in her head for years.

Both men cried out almost simultaneously. Cutler collapsed in a heap on his back beside his lover. Both men were sweating profusely. The same male odour of which Pip had caught but a whiff earlier now swamped her nostrils, filled her mouth, made her pulse race. Fairly intoxicated with it, she felt light headed and stumbled slightly against the door, causing it to creak. The sound, barely audible, rampaged through her head like stampede of frightened animals.

“What was that? I thought I heard something…” Cutler sat up and listened, suspicion and alarm written all over the handsome face.

Pip retreated as fast as tiptoeing would allow.

“Why do you always have to spoil things?” Ray Bannister muttered crossly, “Do you have to be so on edge all the time. Anyone would think we were doing something wrong. Are you ashamed of me or what?”

“Don’t start, Ray, I’m not in the mood.”

“But you are, aren’t you, ashamed of us I mean?”

“Of course not...” But even to Pip, the words range hollow.

“So why can’t we tell people about us instead of sneaking around like a couple of crooks in the night?”

“It’s the middle of the afternoon,” Max pointed out.

“You know damn well what I mean so don’t get clever, it doesn’t suit you.”

“No?” Max laughed.

“No,” said Bannister earnestly, “you’re better than that. Why can’t you take life seriously sometimes, me too while you’re about it?”

“I do take you seriously, of course I do, or I wouldn’t be here now would I?” Cutler leaned across and kissed the other man on the mouth but wriggled free when Ray flung his arms around his neck and responded fiercely. “Now who’s spoiling things?” he remarked dryly, leapt out of bed and proceeded, hastily, to get dressed.

Pip wondered what she should do next.  It would be better for everyone, she knew perfectly well, if she were to dismiss what she had seen from her mind, never refer to it again and return immediately to the flat below. She even got as far as the landing and was in the act of closing the door behind her… but couldn’t quite bring herself to shut it.

How could she turn her back on such a cool situation? Hadn’t she seen two men having sex? Wasn’t she now a party to their secret? Didn’t she have a responsibility to…what?  It made no sense to simply walk away and pretend the incident had never happened. This was life in the raw. She hadn’t felt so exhilarated since…the fire.

Briefly, her excitement ebbed. It was as if she had been bathing in brilliant sunshine and a passing cloud had cruelly obliterated her. “Not me, silly, the sun,” she told the shiny door handle before turning it again and re-entering the flat. This time she was about to call out, “Ray?”  But before she could so much as open her mouth, the noise of a toilet being flushed in the bathroom brought with it a mad rush of second thoughts.

She panicked and hid behind a sofa.

Max Cutler emerged from the bathroom just as Ray came out of the bedroom. Both entered the living room without saying a word. Ray flung himself into an armchair while Max sprawled across the sofa. Pip could hear his heavy breathing. It excited her to imagine his hairy chest heaving under a shirt that he might or might not be wearing, she couldn’t see. On balance, it suited her to imagine him naked, just as she had seen him minutes earlier. He had draped one arm across the back of the sofa and she could smell his sweat, almost taste it on her tongue.

At fourteen, Pip often fantasized about sex with a man. But the shadowy figure in her imagination had always closely resembled her father. Now, she considered the prospect of Max Cutler dominating her, riding her just as he had Ray Bannister. Suddenly, she hated Ray. She had never liked him much when they were next-door neighbours but the lively Bannister family were marginally more interesting than the dull Pikes who lived on the other side. She had never been able to see, for the life of her, why her brother Johnny chose Billy Pike for his best friend; the two boys were as different as chalk and cheese.

“Fancy a sandwich?” Ray asked, if only to break the uncomfortable silence. It was always the same after they made love. Max would fret and sulk and it would be left to him to pick up the pieces.

“Not particularly,” Max declared airily, “but if you’re making some, a ham doorstep will do me fine.”

“It shouldn’t be like this Max,” Ray protested.

“Like what?”

“Like you regret what we just did, like you’re ashamed of me.”

“Of course I’m not ashamed of you. Why do you keep saying that? How many times do I have to tell you I…”

“Love me?”

“I suppose…”

“Go on then, say it. Tell me you love me.”

“I shouldn’t have to say it,” retorted Max angrily, “You know damn well how I feel about you.”

“That’s just it, I don’t.”

“For crying out loud, Ray, we’ve just had fantastic sex. What more proof do you need that I have feelings for you?”

“I want us to go public.”

“Oh, change the record, Ray. You know I can’t do that.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

“Okay, won’t. You know I’m attracted to women. I’ve never made any secret of it. You also know I’m going places. I’ve never made any secret of that either. I know how to give a woman a good time. In return, she can damn well give yours truly due consideration too. Isn’t that fair?  Take Nina, she can pull strings. More importantly, she knows guys who can pull even better strings. She gets her kicks and I get an opportunity to go somewhere, be somebody.”

“So why not just sleep with the guys yourself and be done with it?” hissed Ray scathingly.

“Because, my dear Raymond, you’re the only man for me. I don’t want another man in my life. Women…well, women don’t really count, they’re just a means to an end. But you…you’re special.”

“Does that mean you love me?”

“It means I could murder a ham sandwich.” Max roared with laughter.

Behind the sofa, Pip could feel his whole body shaking. She wanted to laugh too and thrust a fist in her mouth. It wouldn’t do to be caught now. She heard the sound of a door slamming. Given its direction, she could only assume Ray had gone into the kitchen. Max stayed put and, after a short while, began to snore.

It seemed ages before Ray returned. “Wake up, sleepyhead. I’ve made us two ham doorsteps each and a pot of tea.”

“Did you say tea? Who wants bloody tea?” Max took his time replying and yawned after practically each syllable. “I need something stronger than tea and I know just the thing…”

“No Max, you promised. Look, have a doorstep instead…”

“Stuff your f***ing doorsteps and stuff you, you f***ing nerd.”

“You don’t mean that?”

“I just said it, didn’t I?”

“You certainly know how to make a guy feel wanted.”

“Right now, all I want is some coke and if you’ve got any sense you’ll join me.”

“No Max, please. That stuff is dangerous.”

“So is crossing the road.” Max clambered to his feet, “Now, I need the bathroom.”

“You don’t care about anything or anyone, do you, just yourself?”

“Give me strength! Don’t be such a drama queen. Talking of which, you can put that knife down too. You’re not in the kitchen now so you can drop the Delia Smith act.”

“You don’t love me at all, do you? Everything’s just a game to you.”

“Stop fussing and get out of my way. What the…? You’ve nicked my arm, damn you. Come on, Ray, give me the knife before you do some real damage.”

“We’re living in the twenty-first century Max. No one cares who’s sleeping with whom any more. If we tell people, you’ll see I’m right.”

“How many more times do I have to tell you?” Max yelled, “I don’t want people knowing. For a start it’s none of their damn business.”

“And it might get back to mummy…” Ray shouted back and even Pip, who couldn’t see a thing, could tell he was close to tears. “We can’t have that, can we?” he sobbed after a pregnant pause, “Mummy wouldn’t like it would she? Mummy would cut off your allowance. That’s who you’re afraid of, not ‘people’ just mummy. Call yourself a man? You’re pathetic, Max, pathetic!”

“If she didn’t cut off my allowance, she’d cut off my balls for sure,” Max tried to make light of the situation but his voice was strained and sounded curiously guttural to Pip’s keen ear.

“Balls, what balls? You haven’t got any. You’re just a fucking mummy’s boy!” Ray scoffed.

A long pause followed during which the silence became unbearable for Pip and she almost showed herself in an attempt to shatter its suffocating tension. Suddenly, it was as if it had been slashed into pieces by the knife in Ray Bannister’s hand. She listened to the two men fighting for several minutes. It was almost as exhilarating as watching them in bed together. Then one of them gave a long, heartfelt cry before rushing from the room. She heard the flat door slam, heavy footsteps thundering down the stairs, the front door crashing shut then, and only then, someone groaning as if in pain.

The groaning continued.

Curiosity finally getting the better of her nerves, Pip risked peering over the sofa. Ray Bannister was lying on the floor in a pool of blood, eyes closed, a knife stuck in his belly. “Ray?”  She broke cover and rushed to kneel beside the prostrate form that slowly forced open both eyes before attempting to speak.

“Help me,” he whispered, and then closed his eyes again as blood started to trickle from his nose. .

Pip remembered Nina’s mobile phone nestling in her pocket and took it out and started to key 999 with a shaking hand. .Suddenly, she stopped and stared at the phone as if seeing it for the first time.

“Help me, please…” Ray Bannister moaned softly. Pip watched him for several minutes. He neither spoke again nor opened his eyes while continuing to bleed profusely.

The glimmer of an appalling idea brushed Pip’s subconscious, shot forward, skimmed her conscious mind a while and came to rest, a tiny ball of thought in a large, dark, otherwise empty pocket.

She went to the landline phone and called Nina’s work number. A woman answered then put her on hold. It seemed ages before she heard Nina’s voice.

“Pip…?  This had better be good. You know how I hate being called at the studio.”

“I’m at your old flat. I know I shouldn’t, sorry. But never mind that now. I think Sammy’s sick. He’s not moving.  Maybe he’s dead, I don’t know. Can you come right away? Good. How long will it take you…?” She replaced the receiver and its click sounded unnaturally loud. Next, she called her father on Nina’s mobile, careful to hold the phone away from her mouth. “Yes, it’s me, Nina. I’m at my old flat. Can you meet me here as soon as you can?  Something’s happened. I need you to come right away. No, it can’t wait. Yes, it is important, very important, a matter of life and death. Good. How long will it take you…?”

It was as she thought. It would take Nina a good half an hour to arrive and her father at least forty-five minutes. She returned to Ray, knelt beside him, grasped the handle of the carving knife with both hands…and pulled.

If Ray Bannister’s screams sounded deafening to his own ears, all Pip heard was a horrible gurgling sound. His eyes flew open and he recognized the figure leaning over him. “Pip…? Help me, Pip,” he pleaded. Then he saw the knife in her hand, now poised in mid-air, now plunging towards him. “No-oooooooooo!” He screamed each time the blade descended, driven remorselessly into his body only to be pulled out again. In unspeakable agony, he counted three such thrusts before finally closing his eyes and surrendering to the sheer bliss of painlessness.

Pip wiped the handle of the knife clean with a handkerchief, rose unsteadily to her feet and calmly took stock. The blood on her clothes didn’t matter, she decided. There was so much blood that it was only to be expected. But the sticky red stuff on her hands and arms made her feel sick so she helped herself to a glass of vodka from the drinks cabinet. It tasted foul. She pulled a face and spluttered. Even so, the liquid heat did the trick. She soon felt much better. Making her way only a little unsteadily into the kitchen, she went to the sink and washed her hands, and then kept the tap running while letting cold water run over her bare, blood stained  arms. Finally, she returned to the same sofa she had been crouched behind less than ten minutes earlier and sat down. She called her father again twice on Nina’s phone. Calling Nina on the land line was somewhat distasteful since she had to step over the body. “Needs must as the devil drives”, she reminded herself.

“I’m sorry,” a brisk, efficient voice informed her, “Miss Fox has been called away. Can I take a message?” Pip replaced the receiver.

She called the police minutes before she judged Nina would arrive. She would tell them how she had been in the kitchen when she heard Nina and Ray arguing. By the time she had run into the living room Nina was kneeling over him, the carving knife in her hand. Who would disbelieve her? Not her father, certainly. And he would be here soon. He’d see to it that she was all right. Didn’t he always? Besides, it was high time things were as they should be and she had him all to herself again.

The doorbell rang. It was not until she was opening the door that it crossed her mind how unusual it was for Nina to forget her key.

“Pip, what on earth has happened? You’re covered in blood…” Without waiting for an answer, Nathan Sparrow pushed past her and ran into the living room. “Oh, my God…!” He checked for a pulse and found none. Then he saw the knife lying on the floor beside the dead man and, without thinking, picked it up. Pip stood beside him, whimpering. Then they heard a car draw up outside the house. Pip, confused and frightened now, began to cry. It dawned on her only vaguely that she had forgotten to shut the communal front door.

“What’s been going on here then?” asked the young policeman who stood in the doorway.

“Has anyone called for an ambulance?” his female colleague wanted to know.

Pip broke free from father’s protective hands gripping both shoulders, ran into the kitchen and was violently sick.

The body on the floor moved slightly and Ray Bannister’s bloodied mouth uttered a gurgling sound. Nathan Sparrow leaned closer and put an ear to the dying man’s lips.  Barely sixty seconds later he stood up and confronted the police officers grim faced and shaking. His tone, though, remained steady. “I didn’t mean to kill him. But I suppose you’ll have to arrest me…” It was not a question.

To be continued on Friday

Predisposed To Murder - Chapter Thirteen

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

“I may be marrying your father, Pip, but that doesn’t mean I’d ever try to take him away from you. You do believe me, don’t you?”

“You couldn’t anyway,” said young Pip with that infuriating smile that always made Nina Fox want to scream; it wasn’t quite a smirk, but might as well have been.

What do I have to do to make you like me? Nina wanted to scream at the girl, but restrained herself. After a year, she still couldn’t work out what made Nathan’s daughter tick. It was not as if the fourteen-year-old was openly hostile towards her. On the face of it, she was all smiles and anxious to please. No one would suspect, even to look at her now, that she harboured any ill feeling towards her father’s new fiancée. So why, Nina asked herself for the umpteenth time, did she always feel so uncomfortable whenever she found herself alone with Pip? In her father’s presence she was a different person altogether. In Nina’s company she was…but the actress had no words to describe how the girl gave her goose pimples and invariably made her wish she was some place else. “I have to collect a few things from the flat later. Perhaps you’d like to come with me?”

She expected Pip to politely refuse, as she usually did, and was somewhat put out when the girl asked, “Will Sammy be there?”

Nina felt her cheeks burning as she nodded, “I expect so.”

“You haven’t had him put down yet then.” It was not a question.

Nina bristled. “Sammy is my cat and my responsibility, no one else’s.” The girl merely shrugged. “I can’t help it if your father is allergic to animal fur can I?  Okay, I promised to have Sammy put down because he’s old and I couldn’t bear to give him away and I will. But in my own good time, alright?”

“Today…? Will you take him to the vet today?”

“I might.” Nina conceded, inwardly seething.

“In that case, I’ll come with you for moral support. I know Daddy would want me to. So when do we leave?”

“In about ten minutes,” said Nina lightly, calling upon all her reserves of patience not to storm out of the room as she left at a steady pace, quietly closed the door behind her and resisted an impulse to scream. Once inside the bedroom she now shared with Nathan, she leaned against the door and muttered a string of oaths. How had Pip found out about the cat, she wondered?  Nathan had been adamant about her getting rid of it while she, Nina, had been equally determined to keep her beloved Sammy. A friend, Ray Bannister, who lived in the upstairs flat, had promised to feed and generally keep an eye on the cat. She took every opportunity to visit whenever she had a spare moment, especially if Nathan happened to be out of town on business. Pip, a very self-contained child, had always chosen to do her own thing on such occasions, preferring to watch TV or a video, play computer games or get on with some homework, a task at which she was particularly diligent.

“She has her father’s brains,” Nathan would joke, “Nothing less than Oxford for my girl.”

Nina, for one, couldn’t wait. Oh, she felt sorry for the child, of course she did. but…“Oh well, what’s the use?” she muttered aloud and crossed to a dressing table where she  told the troubled looking face in a handsome oval mirror, “I’ll just have to make the best of a bad job, as usual.”  She let her gaze wander critically around the room. The décor was not to her taste although there was no denying its antique furnishings were impressive if a trifle incongruous in a small semi-detached house on a nondescript street. But Pip had helped her father choose everything in the house and neither was receptive to any changes she, Nina, felt inclined to propose.

Glad that she had moved in with Nathan, she nevertheless had no intention of staying in this house longer than proved necessary. Once they were married, she had long since decided, they would move. She hated this house, not least because she was prevented from making it hers. It belonged to Nathan and Pip. Their presence was everywhere. Sometimes she felt almost suffocated by their closeness. It bothered her a lot because she loved Nathan Sparrow very much, and this overwhelming antipathy towards the house seemed like a betrayal.  She blamed Pip, without quite knowing why. It was, after all, only natural that father and daughter should be so close, especially given all that had happened. Even so, Pip must learn to take second place in her father’s affections. Nina sighed. While in no doubt that she could win Nathan round to her point of view, she was equally sure that Pip’s co-operation would require some very careful stage managing.

They arrived at the Brixton flat about lunchtime. It was Pip’s first visit. She knew her father was keen for Nina to sell the flat and was hurt that she hadn’t already done so. He saw it as a lack of commitment on her part and she, Pip, had to agree. Nina wants a bolthole, a safeguard in case her relationship with Daddy doesn’t work out as planned.  Pip frowned and kept reassuring herself that it wouldn’t. No way, not if I can help it.

Nina drove them in her own car, not least because Pip was always commenting on the unnecessary expense of her taking taxis everywhere. Pip looked out of the window, saying nothing and observing little of the shabby, cluttered, urban landscape through which they passed. For the first time in ages, the girl’s thoughts returned to the fire. They waited at traffic lights for a woman to cross the road. She was holding a young boy by the hand. Pip watched them reach the pavement. The boy pushed a battered front gate. A few minutes later, the pair entered a semi-detached house whose cracked windowsills and red brick walls exuded poverty. As a dull, badly scratched front door closed behind them, it seemed to smoulder in front of her eyes and burst into flames. Nor did the illusion vanish once Nina drove off.  She was back at the old house; now in the street, watching the fire take hold, now back inside… striking a match and staring, vaguely surprised, at the subsequent flame.

She’d had to do it of course. Her mother and brother were destroying her father with their incessant demands for attention, Johnny especially. Sometimes she adored her brother. Mostly, she hated him. Why? She often asked herself that. The answer, in the end, was always the same. No matter what excuses she found or allowances she tried to make, she could not forgive him for being her mother’s natural child while she…She had to live with the fact that she was adopted. Her father and Johnny were flesh and blood. Her mother…But she didn’t care to think too much about her mother.

She had been on a school trip to the Natural History Museum that fateful day and arrived home bursting to tell her mother and Johnny all about it. Her father was away on business so she would save her extra special memories of the museum for his return. Even so, there had been lots she couldn’t wait to tell, especially about seeing the dinosaurs. She was already chattering away as she entered the living room with her mother and brother only to stop in mid-sentence as something struck her as strange. Something was wrong. For an instant, she couldn’t put her finger on it. Then she saw it, a huge cream coloured leather armchair where her father’s old rocking chair should have been. She turned on her mother, eyes blazing. “Where’s Daddy’s rocking chair?”

“It was practically falling to bits, darling,” her mother had responded with a nervous laugh. “So Johnny and I went out and bought him a new chair. Do you like it?”

“I hate it! Daddy will too. He loved that rocking chair.”

“He’ll love this one even better,” her mother had insisted with a certainty that inflamed young Pip’s anger all the more.

“No he won’t, he’ll hate it. It’s ugly and…horrible!” She went to the chair and lashed out at it with her foot.

“Stop that, Pip. Now you’re being silly!” Jane Sparrow had snapped, and then tried another tack. “Try it darling. It’s so comfortable. Daddy will love it, you’ll see.”

“He won’t,” the child yelled, “He won’t!” and started to cry.

“You’re only jealous because I bought it for him and you didn’t,” said Johnny.

“It’s a present from all of us,” his mother hastily corrected him.

“Where’s the old chair?” Pip wanted to know.

“The delivery men took it away. It was only any good for firewood. I’m just thankful they didn’t charge for getting rid of the wretched thing. It was an eyesore, Pip. Even you can see that, surely?”

“It was a lovely chair. Besides, it belonged to Grandpa and Daddy would never, ever, have wanted to get rid of it. I hate you, I hate you!” she screamed at her mother.

“Now your being silly…” Jane Sparrow protested.

“My Daddy will love the chair,” said Johnny, “He will, he will, he will!”

“What would you know about it?” Pip sneered, “You’re just a silly little boy no one really wants. Mummy and Daddy chose me. You just happened along and no one had any say in it at all, worse luck,” she added malevolently.

“Pip!” her mother exclaimed in horror.

“At least they’re my real parents, not yours,” shouted the boy, “...and my daddy will be glad to see that back of that old rocking chair, he’s always saying so.”

“Children, stop it. Pip, tell Johnny you’re sorry for what you said. You say sorry, too, Johnny.”

“I won’t!” both children cried simultaneously.

“Then you can go to your rooms, the pair of you, and don’t come downstairs until you’re ready to apologize to me and to each other for you appalling behaviour.”

“I’m sorry mummy,” Johnny whined, throwing both arms around his mother’s waist in floods of tears.

Jane Sparrow automatically hugged her blond, blue-eyed son. This was the last straw for Pip who stomped out of the room in high dudgeon, successful fighting off tears of anger, hurt and frustration only until she reached the sanctuary of her bedroom. Nor did she go downstairs for the rest of that evening but nursed a growing rage until she could bear it no longer.

It was late. Her mother would be in bed by now, Johnny too. She had refused to reply to her mother’s tap on the door nor rushed to unlock it as she saw the handle move slowly forward. A piled carpet had drowned the sound of her mother’s footsteps but she imagined them stopping outside Johnny’s room, entering, her mother planting a goodnight kiss on the sleeping child’s cheek. She would never know that Jane Sparrow, still upset after the incident earlier, had been desperate to make her peace with both children, any more than Jane herself would ever know that Johnny had feigned sleep or that Billy Pike, the boy next door, was hiding under his best friend’s bed.

A thirst had come upon young Pip and she tiptoed downstairs to the kitchen with no other intention than getting a drink of water. She turned on the tap, took a cup from a cupboard over the sink and drank.  It was then that she spotted a packet of ten cigarettes and matches on a shelf. “That didn’t last long,” she retorted with reference to her mother’s recently avowed intention to give up smoking. She drained the glass, dropped it in a bowl of soapy water and would have returned to her room. It was then a weird compulsion she neither quite understood nor could resist came over her. She had to stretch to reach the two items on the shelf but finally succeeded.

Matches in one hand, cigarettes in the other, she had stared at them until she could no longer see them, only a monstrous green dragon exhaling billows of smoke and tongues of flame. In terror, she tried to flee the dragon but it followed her into the living room. Suddenly the new armchair that had resulted in such painful exchanges earlier burst into flame. As if hypnotized, she watched the flames rise and spread. At first, she could not hear or feel a thing. It was much like watching a video. Only, there was no pause or stop button available. The fire began noisily fast-forwarding of its own volition. Heat, smoke and a terrible roaring sound brought her back to reality with a sickening lurch of the stomach. She ran to the kitchen door, slammed it shut behind her and laid her whole weight against it. But it was a powerful dragon. Hadn’t she seen it with her own eyes?  She had run into the garden, along the side of the house and into the street. It struck her that she should…what?  Who, in Spencer Street, could tackle a dragon that size and win? Not Mummy or Johnny, that’s for sure.

A huge sense of relief had come over her and she’d felt quite light-headed. Thank goodness Daddy was not in the house. As for her mother and brother, what did she care about them?

She had stood and watched the house burn, scarcely aware of a new cacophony of raised voices, sirens all around her and well-meaning hands gently leading her away from the scene. All she could properly grasp was that the dragon continued to wreak its destruction, a roaring in her ears offset only by a rising exultation that her father was safe and that she was now all he had to look after him.

A sudden jerk on her seat belt returned Pip to the present. Dismissing the dragon as sheer fairy tale, she hid a smile behind the back of her hand and pretended to stifle a sneeze.

“Don’t you dare go down with a cold,” Nina wailed, “The last thing I need at the moment is a bloody cold!”

Both climbed out of the car. Pip was still on the passenger side when a door opened and a tall young man with a mop of auburn curls ran down the steps of a tall building and embraced Nina warmly. They hugged each other, laughing, like old friends. Pip watched in wide-eyed disbelief. There was an unmistakeable air of intimacy about the couple that made her hackles soar. How dare Nina betray her father like this? Worse, these two were carrying on like a pair of reunited lovers, in full view of twitching curtains, with neither a trace of self-consciousness or shame?

Pop had barely recovered from the shock of this revelation when she suffered another of an altogether different kind.  She had emerged from the car now, and could see more clearly. “Ray!” she shouted excitedly, “Ray Bannister!”

“Why, now, if it isn’t little Pip!”  The young man became aware of her presence for the first time, and it was Nina’s turn to watch in astonishment as Pip Sparrow ran to the pavement and flung herself at him.

“I never dreamed Nina’s upstairs neighbour was you!” the girl cried, both arms around Ray Bannister’s neck. She turned accusingly at Nina. “You never told me you knew Ray.”

“You never asked,” Nina retorted with a surge of irrational anger and struggling to regain her composure. She had seen the look in Pip’s eyes before she recognized Ray. Heaven only knew what the girl would report back to Nathan. Report back, though, she certainly would as Pip always did whenever  she and Nathan spent any time together.

Once inside, Nina learned that Ray and Pip had been next-door neighbours at the time of the fire. “You should have told me,” the child kept saying with petulant, almost vicious looks.

“I didn’t know,” was all Nina could say. It was true. On reflection, she realized that she had only ever mentioned Ray’s first name to either Nathan or Pip. There had been no reason for her to do otherwise. Now she fervently wished she had left the spoilt little brat at home.

“My parents still live there,” Ray was telling Pip, “but I bought this place after I left university. An aunt died and left me a packet,” he explained with a grin. “It was a massive stroke of luck, I can tell you, especially as I was broke at the time…” he went on.

Nina left them to it and went in search of Sammy. The cat must have heard or sensed her presence because it appeared on a windowsill as soon as she entered the kitchen, leapt a little unsteadily on to the table and waited to be scooped up in her arms where it lay, purring incessantly. For his age, Nina reminded herself, Sammy was a remarkably active cat still. No way would she entertain the idea of having him put down. Besides, she was convinced that Nathan’s allergy was only an excuse. The way he saw it, she only kept the flat on for Sammy’s sake. It followed therefore, he reasoned, that if she got rid of the damn cat, she would also get rid of the flat. “Well, you can think again Nathan Sparrow,” she murmured, and laid a fond cheek against the moggie’s sleek, well-groomed flank. Later, she must thank Ray again for taking such good care of Sammy.  She looked on the cat as, among other things, a lucky mascot. On the same day a friend had given her the tiny kitten, she had won the part of April Divine in April Showers, her first major TV break. She sighed. The current series had been getting mixed reviews lately. Having slipped disastrously in the ratings, its future was not, to say the least, looking as rosy as everyone had first predicted.

Putting the cat down on its favourite chair, Nina proceeded to look out three mugs, pour some milk Ray had thoughtfully left in the fridge into a small jug and grab a somewhat battered biscuit tin from a wall cupboard before making a pot of tea and carrying it through to the other room on a tray. She loved freshly made tea while Nathan actually preferred tea bags.

“I don’t want tea,” declared Pip scornfully, “You know I prefer juice.”

“There isn’t any so it’s tea or go without,” Nina returned coolly, choosing to ignore Ray’s amused glance.

“Then I’ll have a glass of water instead,” said Pip.

“By all means, help yourself. The kitchen is through there,” Nina pointed the way she had come.

“I will,” returned the girl with a stubborn thrust of the jaw, and left the room.

“I had no idea!” Nina exclaimed, almost apologetically, to her old friend.

“You never talk about Nathan or Pip to me,” he said quietly and she wondered if it was an accusation.

“I come here to get away from all that,” she said without thinking.

“But you’re marrying the guy…” Ray Bannister reminded her.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Nina added, blushing, “I simply meant I have such happy memories of this place and Nathan doesn’t feature in any of them. It’s always been a bolthole for me, away from press, fans, everything and everyone who sees me as fair game.”

“And Nathan Sparrow doesn’t?”

“We love each other.”

“So why do you hang on to the flat if not for insurance?”

“You know why. I can’t throw poor Sammy out on the street. Besides…” She grinned. “…it’s an excuse to see you too.”

“You don’t need an excuse for that and well you know it.” He got up from his chair, crossed to hers, gave her a hug and was planting a kiss on her forehead just as Pip re-entered the room.

“Don’t mind me,” the child said peevishly before resuming her seat then proceeded to deal Sammy, who had leapt on to the chair arm, a hefty push that sent him flying. The cat landed on the floor adroitly enough, albeit mewing furiously.

“How could you?” demanded Nina as she scooped up the distressed animal in her arms.

“I might ask you the same question,” the girl replied cheerfully, treating Nina and Ray Bannister alike to a look that, in spite of a surface child-like blandness, still managed to convey a knowing, almost sinister air. Not for the first time, Nina had to remind herself that Pip was still only a child or she would have taken great pleasure in slapping her. Instead, she chose yet again to grit her teeth and say nothing.

Seeking beyond the girl’s dimpled cheek that would have made most girls look pretty, but didn’t quite manage it in Pip’s case, Nina found what she feared most. In eyes so resembling Nathan Sparrow’s that it seemed barely credible to her that Pip was adopted, she glimpsed and thought she understood the same threat that had hung between them since their very first meeting. True, it was a threat so far left unspoken, but one that both woman and child alike had increasingly if surreptitiously acknowledged to themselves and to each other.

Nina felt her blood run cold.  She had long since given up hoping that she and Pip could ever be bosom friends, but neither had she thought of the child as her enemy. Now it struck her forcibly that she had gravely misjudged young Pip. The girl was dangerous.

Almost at once, Nina pushed the thought aside. What could she possibly have to fear from the girl?  Pip could and probably would continue her efforts to drive a wedge between herself and Nathan.  It’s only to be expected, she and Nathan being so close? But she’s only a child, after all. As for being dangerous...Jealous, yes, but dangerous...? Oh, but I dare say I’m being more than a teeny bit melodramatic.

As if to confirm that last suspicion, Pip flung her a disarming smile. Nina gave an audible sigh of relief. It even crossed her mind that she might yet establish a bond of sorts with Nathan’s strange daughter.

To be continued on Monday

Predisposed To Murder - Chapter Twelve

ACT II

(Mid 1990s to the Present Day)

CHAPTER TWELVE

“What does ‘adopted’ mean, Daddy?” asked the little girl.

“It means, Pip, that mummy and I weren’t able to have children the way other mummies and daddies do so we went out and chose you. We were lucky. Most people get no say in what kind of children they have. They just have to accept what God decides to give them. But Mummy and I were able to choose you and that’s what’s called adopting. We adopted you, just like you adopted us.”

The toddler concentrated very hard. “So why didn’t God want me?”

“Of course He wants you darling,” said the child’s mother.

“Why did He give me away then?”

“It wasn’t like that, darling. Every child needs a mummy and daddy to look after him or her. God can’t look after every child, so He looks for people like Mummy and me to do the job for him,” said Nathan Sparrow.

The child, Pip, was confused. “So why aren’t all children adopted?”

“Because some children grow in their mummy’s tummy and only come out when they’re ready to be born,” Jane Sparrow tried to explain.

“So why didn’t I grow in your tummy?” Pip wanted to know.

“Because you’re special and God had other plans for you, for us too,” said Nathan Sparrow.

“But now there’s a baby brother or sister for you growing in my tummy,” said Jane with a wide smile.

“Are you going to keep it?”

Jane and Nathan Sparrow laughed aloud. “Yes darling, we’re going to keep it!” cried Jane and tried to give Pip a big hug, but the child pushed her away and ran out of the room.

Nathan made as if to follow her but his wife laid a restraining hand on his arm. “Give her time to think about it. When she gets used to the idea she’ll be as happy as we are, you’ll see. The less fuss we make about the baby, the more natural it will all seem to her.”

“We shouldn’t have told her about the adoption, she’s too young,” her husband murmured, frowning.

“You know what other children are like and she starts school next week. Far better, surely, that she should hear it from us? A mother at the nursery was asking me about it just the other day. It only takes one child to hear the parents talking…”

“I suppose you’re right. But I’m going to her now anyway. She needs a cuddle.”

“She needs to be left alone, Nathan. Even children need their own space sometimes. She knows she can ask us anything she likes and she will, you’ll see. If we make a big issue out of this so will she.”

“She’s a very sensitive child.”

“Do you think I don’t know that? She’s my daughter, too, Nathan.”

“She needs her daddy and I’m not going to let her down,” he insisted and almost ran out of the room. Jane listened to his footsteps on the stairs, heard the creaky door of Pip’s room opening and closing and wished her husband would, sometimes at least, credit her with some common sense.

“Daddy…?” said Pip. She was sitting on her father’s lap and enjoying the unexpected hugs and kisses.

“Yes, my darling?”

“When the new baby comes, will it live with us in our house?”

“Of course….”

“Well, I don’t mind if it doesn’t. I mean, let it be adopted like me. It’s got to be better to choose one you really, really, want than be stuck with what comes out of Mummy’s tummy.”

“It’ll be alright, you’ll see,” Nathan Sparrow laughed and gave his daughter another squeeze.

Pip wriggled in his grasp, flung both arms round his neck and planted a sloppy kiss on his cheek. “I love you Daddy,” she sobbed.

“I love you, too, darling. Now, don’t cry, there’s nothing to cry about. We’re going to be one big happy family…mummy, me, you and baby…and it going to be wonderful, just you wait and see.”

Pip, though, was not reassured.

The child was a boy and they called him John. He was a noisy, boisterous baby and toddler, always up to some mischief or other. Nor had he changed much by the time he was eight years old. Jane and Nathan Sparrow adored him. Pip would sometimes snap at him for constantly teasing her or going into her room and playing with her things…or whatever, there was always something. The Sparrows, Jane and Nathan both, did their best to explain how this was what little brothers the world over loved to do, tease Big Sister. “He only does it because he loves you,” Nathan would say.

“In that case, I wish he didn’t love me,” Pip would invariably retort and find a quiet corner to sulk.

“Leave her, Nathan,” Jane would say at first, but finally gave up trying to get him to see that Pip was only attention-seeking.  She did her best to stop John teasing his sister so, but his only response was a cheeky grin few people could resist.

“He’s a lovely lad. You must be so proud of him,” Mary Pike, a next-door neighbour would often say. The Pikes had a son, Billy, only a few months younger than John and the two boys were close friends.

An apple tree grew in the Pikes’ garden. As soon as they were old enough to climb, there was no stopping the two boys in spite of protests and recriminations from their parents. One sturdy branch stretched almost to John Sparrow’s bedroom window and it did not take the boys long to take advantage. On many an occasion, unbeknown to their parents, young Billy would take the apple tree route to his best pal Johnny’s bedroom and the two lads would delight in sharing a late night feast, usually comprising lemonade and bars of chocolate, while they played a game of cards or Scrabble. Later, Billy would clamber back down the tree and let himself in by a kitchen window he was always careful to leave ajar. The very first time, he had let himself out by the kitchen door, but when he returned, someone had locked it. Fortunately, the downstairs toilet window had been left open, but that proved to be a very tight squeeze, even for a small boy.

On the night of the fire, Billy let himself into Johnny’s room in the usual way and the two boys passed a happy hour giggling over various silly words they had laid out on the Scrabble board. There was no school the next day, and it was nearly midnight before Billy left. He was climbing down the tree when a light went on in the Sparrows’ sitting room. For a minute or two he stayed put. But the curtains were drawn so where, he asked himself, was the risk? He continued his descent until he was directly opposite the window.

Through a chink in the curtains, he could just make out Pip Sparrow. She was standing by the sofa, holding something, but he couldn’t quite make out what until she raised a lighted cigarette to her lips. Pip was smoking. The child’s eyes widened with a mixture of disbelief and admiration. He watched, fascinated, as the girl removed the cigarette and casually let it slip from her fingers. Puzzled now, Billy continued to watch as,a sheet of flame caused Pip to jump backwards and beyond his line of vision. He waited to hear her shout the alarm, scream even. But the only sound was that of flames starting to roar and take hold with a rapidity that was as astonishing as it was terrifying. The back door opened and Pip emerged in her nightdress. She glanced behind her at the blazing building only once before moving slowly to the side of the house and out of sight.

Billy’s only thought as he scrambled to the ground was that he must get indoors and into bed before his parents realized he was missing. They would be furious if they knew where he’d been.  His heart began to pound against his chest so hard it hurt. Barely had he carelessly discarded the outdoor clothes he’d pulled on over his pyjamas earlier and jumped into bed when his father arrived looking flushed and frantic.

Seizing Billy in his arms, Dan Pike tried to sound reassuring. “We have to go outside, son. There’s a fire next door. It’s only a precaution but…” They were already half way down the stairs and Billy could make out his mother and sisters in the front garden, their faces lit up by a weird glow. He could distant hear sirens too. A fire engine was on its way.

At the front door, a thought struck young Billy with all the force of a sledgehammer. “Johnny!” he yelled, wriggled free of his father and ran through the house into the back garden. Dan Pike ran after him and scooped him up in the middle of the lawn. Two pairs of eyes darted instinctively to the rear bedroom window of the blazing house. They saw John Sparrow’s face pressed against the pane, his expression one of sheer terror.

“The tree,” Billy yelled, “Climb down the tree!”

“Billy’s right, son, get yourself out of there…now!”  Dan yelled.

But for reasons they would never know, the face at the window vanished and never reappeared.

“Johnny!” Billy opened his mouth to yell again but, try as hard as he might, could not utter a sound. Nor did he have any way of knowing then that it would be years before he spoke again.

A crowd quickly gathered in the street to stare at the burning house. The police arrived and began moving people back, away from the roaring inferno. One officer told a young girl to move back for her own safety. She did not even acknowledge his existence but continued to watch the house burn, her mother and brother still inside.

“That’s Pip Sparrow,” a buxom woman in a dark blue flowing dressing gown told the policeman. She followed his gaze to Pip’s face and, like him, mistook the bright eyes and strained expression for signs of shock.

As they led her away, Pip turned her head only once. Fire-fighters had already turned their hoses on the blaze and she saw two of them enter the building. It occurred to her that if they were hoping to rescue anyone, it was already far too late for that. 

Her father would be devastated. It would be up to her to comfort him. Common sense, though, warned her to hide the smile of satisfaction that sprung to her lips.

………………………………………..

Nathan Sparrow was more than devastated by the loss of his wife and son; it left him an emotional cripple. Somehow he got through the inquest, double funeral, a token wake at his parents’ house with everyone tiptoeing around each other not knowing quite what to say and words like ‘sorry’ sounding bland, inadequate and making everything harder than ever to endure. Endure it he did, though, if only for Pip’s sake. She was a little treasure, a tower of strength, invariably acting the proper little hostess and fussing over him like a mother hen. It was hard to believe that she would not be a teenager for a few months yet. They had always been close but she seemed to have grown up overnight whereas he could only go through the basic motions of living, feeling like a zombie.

They stayed with his father until the insurance came through and moved soon after into a new, smaller house only a few streets away from the burnt-out shell of the old one. It was important, he thought, to give Pip as much continuity as possible. Not that he gave it much thought if the truth be told, but left most of the thinking to his father. The two men had never been close, but they made an effort to get along passably well for Pip’s sake. 

The inquest verdict on Jane and young John had been “accidental death” since it appeared that the probably cause of the fire was a cigarette left smouldering in the through-lounge.  How could Jane have been so careless, so stupid, Nathan kept asking himself? She had only recently given up smoking. Why had she taken up the habit again so soon?  How could she have done that? Had his going away on business for a couple days made any difference?  Did she miss him?  Is that why she’d felt compelled to smoke a cigarette? But that was no excuse. There was no excuse for what she’d done. Much as he loved her, he had the most awful feeling that he would end up hating her.

For two years, Nathan Sparrow got through the each day, week, month, on autopilot. He’d get up, have breakfast with Pip, go to work, come home, ask Pip about her day at school, go to bed, get up again - and so it went on, a cycle of daily routine broken only by birthdays, anniversaries, parent evenings at Pip’s school that his father always insisted he attend and half-hearted attempts to make something of bleak, interminable Christmases.

Pip was his rock. Sometimes, when she thought he was asleep, she’ creep into his bed and snuggle up close to him. He told himself he hadn’t the heart to send her back to her own room, but the truth was her presence was a comfort and he clung to it as a drowning man might cling to a straw. But for her, he’d have upped and left, gone somewhere, anywhere, to get away from memories that should have been happy ones, easier to bear with the passing of time if practically everyone he spoke to were to be believed. Instead, they became more, not less, nightmarish. It got so he could not sleep until he knew Pip was there with him in the double bed he should have been sharing with Jane. At the same time, he began to think less and less about Jane, it was too painful. No family photographs had survived the fire. His father had offered him some, but he’d refused them all but for a snap of himself, Pip and Johnny enjoying a picnic on Hampstead Heath. Even so, it took a superhuman effort on his part to all but obliterate the fact from his memory that it was Jane who had taken the picture.

Then, out of the blue, he met Nina.  She was reading a magazine and sitting opposite the only seat available in a crowded café where he, too, had dived in out of the rain. He only vaguely recognized her as someone he’d seen on TV. In some quiz show or other perhaps? It struck him that Pip would be tickled pink if he were to get her autograph. Completely out of character, he leaned across and whispered, “Excuse me, but do you give autographs?”

The young woman looked up, smiling broadly, and he saw that she was even prettier than he had at first thought. “Do you have a pen?”

“Err no…” he mumbled, feeling foolish.

“An autograph hunter without a pen has to be a first.” She laughed and the sound was like a breath of fresh air on his face.

“It’s for my daughter,” he explained.

“And there was I thinking you were a devoted admirer who hasn’t missed a single episode of my show,” she said, rummaging in her bag and finally producing a biro.

The blank expression on his face sent her into more peals of laughter as she reached for a paper serviette and scrawled her signature.  “You haven’t the faintest idea who I am, have you?” Nathan Sparrow shook his head and fervently wished the dull linoleum covered floor would open and swallow him up. “Does April Showers ring a bell?” Again, the hapless Sparrow shook his head. “Well, for its worth, I’m April. And you’re forgiven because it’s only been on the box a couple of months and I, for one, wouldn’t bet on it seeing out many more.” She handed him the serviette.

“Nina Fox,” he read.

“And you are?”

“Nathan Sparrow.” They shook hands across the table and he imagined a current passing between them, coursing through his veins…hers too, he was sure of it… like a massive surge of electricity.

“May I have my hand back please?” She was laughing again as, apologetically, he released her hand.

They started seeing each other now and then, usually at weekends. Now and then soon became more often. Sometimes he’d even pick her up from the television studio in his car since she didn’t enjoy driving in London so relied on taxis most of the time. Invariably, he would have to wait until filming had finished for the day but no one minded and he quickly got to know several other members of the cast who treated him as one of their own. A television studio was worlds apart from the offices where he worked as a partner in a small but reputable firm of accountants. It fascinated him and gave him almost as much of a buzz as being with Nina.  For the first time since the fire he began to relax and enjoy life again. “I must seem very boring after all this TV stuff,” he put to her once.

“Darling,” she purred with a mischievous grin, “after all this TV stuff, you’re a haven of peace and tranquillity.”

“Not boring?” he wasn’t convinced.

“How could a tall, handsome, sexy man possibly be boring, even if he is an accountant?” She giggled and hadn’t resisted when he took her in his arms and kissed her with a depth of passion he’d never known before, even with Jane.

It was some time before he managed to tell Nina about the fire. She listened quietly, without interruption. It was the first time he had spoken about it in any detail to anyone, even Pip. Afterwards, they sat in silence. Yet it was neither a strained nor awkward silence. He felt uplifted, as if an enormous burden had been partially lifted from his shoulders. She seemed to sense this, smiled sweetly and took both his hands in hers. Not one word passed between them. Then, at last, the floodgates burst and he fell into her arms crying like a baby. 

Oh, he had shed tears before and plenty of them. But none like these. Those others had been for wasted lives, lost opportunities, the sheer tragedy and travesty of a perverse fate near choking him, like smoke, with every breath he took… as if he’d been there himself, caught up in that terrible inferno. Now, for the very first time, he wept for the reality…for them all, as a family…Pip, John and, yes, Jane too. Most of all perhaps, he wept for himself, Nathan Sparrow, and the more a wall he’d built around himself crumbled, the closer he felt to Nina Fox.

The same evening, they left Nina’s little flat in Brixton and he took her to meet Pip.

“Pip, darling, this is Nina. You and she are going to be the best of friends, I just know it.”

Nina smiled and held out her hand to the pretty but oddly prim looking child while feeling considerably more nervous than she had ever felt at an audition. Neither did the stiff hand in hers or the girl’s expression do anything to make her feel more at ease.

Pip’s mouth was smiling but her eyes darted daggers at this strange woman around whose slim shoulders her father was already clasping a protective if not possessive arm.  Did they take her for a fool?  Her father’s bringing this Fox woman home was an admission of intent. The woman, too, was well aware of this. Pip could tell at once by the way she was trying too hard to conceal the fact she was nervous and kept flinging Nathan intimate looks.

“I’m sure we’ll get along just fine, won’t we Pip?” If Nina’s voice shook a little, Nathan gave no sign he had noticed.

Pip’s heart skipped a beat. It was as if the Fox woman had read her mind. “I’m sure we will,” she lied, coolly withdrawing her hand from Nina’s and flinging her father a broad, reassuring smile.

To be continued on Monday