Thanks for sharing. This is going to help me, help Rob, us. You’re a good friend to him.
I try. But you might need something a bit lighter for his birthday party! The guy’s doing OK though, isn’t he? Playing by the rules. Got himself a wonderful partner. Doing right by the world. And no sign of Gil – not as far as I know…
He’s doing great things.
Jake forces himself to keep writing.
And I love him for it.
And then Rob’s name appears in the chat window. He’s back online. Jake types a quick final message to Kirby, his big fingers trembling.
Thank you so much – please don’t tell Rob we’ve talked. Surprise! Must go. xx
Before Kirby can reply, Jake deletes the message thread and logs out.
47
Kate
‘I want to come to London,’ Kate says, standing outside the pub in the centre of the village, just up from the harbour café. Bex and the other beach cleaners are all inside, trying to drown their horror at what happened tonight. News of the body found on Pendower has spread fast and the pub is even busier than usual for a hot summer night. Locals and holidaymakers are sitting at the tables outside, milling around, chatting animatedly, each with their own theory. The community is in shock.
‘I understand,’ Rob says.
She’s told Rob about today’s unexpected visit from Hart and Strover, the CCTV footage from the pub, the near miss with the car and finally the body found by Stretch. She’s also explained that she recognised the dead man as the Bluebell barman, the same person who sat beside her in the harbour café and spiked her coffee. She omitted to mention how the police came into possession of the CCTV footage. There doesn’t seem any point in involving Jake in all this. And she hasn’t told him about Capgras, the syndrome that Bex mentioned, which also seems to have come from Jake.
‘I need to see Dr Varma,’ she says.
It’s the second time they’ve spoken in five minutes. She rang Rob from inside the pub, but it was too noisy. It’s Bex’s idea to be seen by Dr Varma. Bex is starting to think Kate’s losing it. More so than usual.
‘He’s gone back to London,’ Rob says. ‘But he’ll be down again at the end—’
‘I can’t wait that long,’ Kate interrupts, her voice shaking.
‘OK,’ he says quietly, in that caring, unflappable way he spoke to her in the early days, when she really wasn’t very well. ‘I’ll give him a call, see if he can see you sooner.’
‘If I come up tomorrow…’
‘Leave it with me.’ Rob pauses. ‘It must be tough for all of you down there, after what you found.’
He’s right. The police arrived quickly, sealing off the far end of the beach, but not before all of them had seen the body, the contorted expression of surprise on the man’s gaping, broken face. She and Bex stayed to give statements, explaining how they found the body. Kate didn’t say that she recognised the man. She just told them to contact DI Hart of Wiltshire Police. Hart rang her shortly afterwards, said he would be in touch. He also said that it wasn’t Rob’s car in Cornwall earlier that morning.
‘How is everyone?’ Rob asks. ‘In the pub?’
‘I’m outside.’
‘I should be with you. Honestly, I can come back down tonight.’
‘Back down’ after returning to London yesterday? Or ‘back down’ after a secret flying visit to the village this morning? She leaves it for now, closes her eyes and leans against the outside wall of the pub, trying not to think about the dead man on the beach. The wall is still warm, retaining the heat of the day. She knew at once that he was Herman, the same person who’d been trying to kill her. What looked like a bullet wound – she was exposed to some graphic crime-scene photos when she was working for the force – had left the lower forehead barely recognisable, but she could still make out the prominent brow.
She knows that she must ask Rob if he was in Cornwall when they spoke earlier. For her own sanity as much as Bex’s. Settle the matter once and for all. It might not have been his car that Mark saw, but the jets are still troubling her.
‘Today, when we were talking on FaceTime, some military jets flew low over the house,’ she begins, determined to hold it together.
‘Is Bex with you?’ Rob asks. She’s not sure if he’s even listening to her. ‘In the pub?’
‘And then, two seconds later, we heard them flying over you,’ she continues, ignoring him. Her lip’s bleeding she’s biting on it so hard. ‘The same sound came through the speakers. Which means you were talking to us from somewhere nearby, Rob. In Cornwall.’
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ Rob says.
‘Please – just tell me if you were down here this morning,’ she says, as firmly as she can without raising her voice. Tears are coming now. She looks around, in case anyone is nearby. A man on the far side of the square glances over at her.
‘We’ve been through this, Kate. I was up here. In the flat and then over at the office. I’ve been in meetings all day. The IPO is next week. Things are a little crazy right now.’
She knows the feeling. She wipes away a tear and closes her eyes. As his words wash over her, she decides that Rob isn’t lying. Her relief is immediate, the tension melting away. It’s so much easier – for her, for Bex, for Rob – to believe that he’s telling the truth. And that maybe she is delusional, suffering from this thing called Capgras.
‘So why did we hear the jets twice?’ she asks, all conviction gone now. She knows he’ll have some technical explanation, a plausible theory that will allow her to sleep tonight.
‘There was a lot of delay on the line today,’ he says. ‘You know what reception’s been like down there. Nightmare.’
Rob continues to be uncharacteristically flummoxed by the slow broadband at the house. It’s good in the village, but for some reason the speed drops off up on the cliffs. Mobile reception is sketchy at best too. And so far no amount of his money or ideas has been able to sort the problem.
‘Maybe you heard the sound again through the speakers,’ he continues. ‘Did you hear your own voices too?’
Did they? She often hears herself a few seconds after she’s spoken. Has she just been imagining everything?
‘You coming in?’
It’s Bex, standing at the pub door, pint glass in hand. She always drinks pints, has done ever since Kate’s known her. Kate nods, mouthing, ‘One sec.’ Bex notices she’s been crying and hesitates. Kate musters a smile and Bex returns inside.
‘I still want to come up,’ she says to Rob. ‘Tomorrow. I feel scared down here. A man tried to kill me and now he’s been shot dead. It’s not exactly reassuring.’
‘I know,’ he says. ‘I understand.’
She could take the train tonight, the sleeper service, or drive up, but she’s happy to wait until the morning. Bex is here, after all. Tomorrow she’ll be in London, where she can see Ajay, ask him about Capgras. And she can sort things out with Rob, enjoy being looked after. Pampered. Cherished. It’s what she needs right now.