His cousin was busying himself with weeding a patch in the garden that was overgrown and nasty, bindweed and nettles having taken over. The cottages were meant to have been a long term project; the six of them all low ceilinged, traditional with open fires and long gardens and most had been left unmodernised and unmaintained.
Alex had bought them from the owner three years ago and had started to renovate them. This was the last one, just the garden and an extension to put on to the back, then it could be rented and he’d finally move into the detached stone house he’d bought at auction six month ago, which really did need a lot doing, but it was the place he’d be living in for the foreseeable.
“Coffee.”
“Thanks.” Jake walked over, his blonde hair sticking out and a streak of dirt across his face. “Is Abby okay?”
Alex thought about how to answer. “No. She’s really not.”
“Has this just caused you problems?”
Fuck. Yes. Ten fold. “Some.”
“Are you sleeping with her?”
Alex found a garden chair and sat down.
“I know you never talk about women, Al. You just deal – I get that. But we’ve all watched the way you two dance about each other. She likes you – fuck knows why, but she does and I figured you were keen on her.”
Alex shrugged. “She intrigues me. I knew she was hiding something.” And he’d already told Jake too much.
“Where did you both sleep last night?”
“On the sofa. But nothing happened. I don’t think anything can happen.” That was the conclusion he’d come to at about three am.
“The town thinks it already is. Do you need them to think that?”
“Yeah.” Another conclusion. At around four am. “She’s safer if people think she’s my girlfriend.”
“But are you safer? Because I’ve got a feeling that you’re mixed up in some shitty stuff that isn’t anything to do with small town pub brawls and thirteen-year-old shoplifters.”
It was a secret he’d had for two years. One only known by an undercover cop in Manchester, known only by his surname – Loneghan - and a detective inspector whose job it was to look at Garrison and his involvement with the Manchester gangs. Internal affairs, Warren Mather.
Alex was the inside man in the town where too much stemmed back to. The cult. Started back in the sixties by a gang leader needing to hide out. It gave him a front and a new identity which almost looked legit. And Severton was the back way from Manchester to Sheffield and then to Derbyshire and beyond, if you followed the old Roman roads through small towns and villages that still had their drug users, even if they looked beautiful on the front of it.
There had been too much going on here. Kidnappings, fires, arson, bodies found in burned out buildings with no way to easily identify them. The police had been on their way to finding the link between Mobchester, as the gangs of Manchester had been nicknamed, and the crimes in Severton before McKay, Alex’s previous boss, had to go on sick leave.
Somehow Graeme Garrison had been transferred in. Alex had been contacted by detective chief inspector Warren Mather, one of the most secretive calls he’d ever had and that had set the tone for the last few months.
“There’s a lot going on, Jake.” It kind of summarised it.
“What can I do to help?”
“We need a reason for Abby to be followed and her house to be ransacked. I thought a stalker would do it, but I’m not sure.”
“Why was she followed, because you’ve just told me it wasn’t a stalker. Is it something to do with what she said yesterday – someone’s trying to track her down?” Jake sat down on the dry grass. They hadn’t had rain for days.
“Pretty much.”
“Let’s go with a weirdo hanging around the bar. Scott can suddenly remember. But the cameras weren’t working. Who’s working it?”
“Ste, but it won’t be the top of his caseload. As long as it gets closed, no one any higher will think anything of it.” Unless they already knew about Abby and who she was.
Footsteps made him turn round. Abby was walking barefoot down the garden, wearing a tiny pair of denim shorts and a tight vest.
A snort from Jake told him what the look on his face was like.
“Morning, Abs.”
She smiled, pulling her hair out of her face. “Do either of you want breakfast?”
“You know, I have a really big farmhouse in the middle of nowhere. How about you ditch my cousin and come and cook me breakfast?” Jake’s smile was dazzling.
“He gets up at four in the morning and has questionable hygiene. I recommend a hard pass.” Alex heard the growl in his own voice.
Jake laughed as if it was the best joke ever told. “I’d love breakfast, Abby, but have you checked your messages yet?”
A look of relief washed across her and her gaze fell on Alex. “Time off. I don’t know what to do with myself. I think I might be better working…”
“See how it goes,” Alex said, standing up. “Have a few days and then if you need to get back to routine then you do. Want to do a climb?”
Her face lit up. “If I’ve not forgotten what to do.”
Jake disappeared after being fed pancakes with fruit and syrup, leaving Alex at the kitchen table with Abby.
“How did you sleep?” He felt awkward asking the question, not sure what answer he wanted.
“Really well. You should take the bed though tonight. I feel bad enough as it is for taking up your space.” She put down her knife and fork, even though she still had a good lot of food left.
“I don’t mind. Sharing space, that is. I don’t mind if you sleep better with me in the same room.” He wasn’t sure if he was hinting or not.
“Possibly.” She blushed and looked away.
“Abby…” he nudged her foot with his under the table. “Let’s just see what happens, okay?”
She nodded, still avoiding looking at anywhere but his plate.
“Do you have everything from the PI you hired? If we can look at that this morning, we can get out and have some fresh air this afternoon.”
“Climbing?”
“Yep. Not exactly the Eiger. We can head up Windgather. When’s the last time you climbed?”
“Four months three days ago, but it was barely a climb.”
“Before that?”
“Every month I’d make myself do something to remember who I was before. But I was scared someone would recognise me.”
“You know what I think?” he waited for her to look at him properly. “I think you should start your blog again under your real name. Get that identity back. And when this is over, I’ll climb the Eiger with you.”
This time the tears fell over. She wiped them away fiercely, clearly not wanting him to see her cry.
“Abby, it will be okay.” Alex left his seat and went around the table to her, pulling her up and into his chest. He still hadn’t bothered with a T-shirt, so the dampness from her tears wet his skin. “We’ll find out what happened to Tilly and you’ll be able to get back to what you love.”
“I don’t think so.”
“I do. Come on. Don’t cry. I don’t know what to do when you cry.”