The house she’d fallen in love with was in Washingborough, near the Washingborough Hall manor house, and was built from beautiful sandy-coloured stone. It needed some work, but most of the alterations Sophie had in mind were cosmetic.
The house had been purchased and renovated by a couple a few years ago, but they’d either got fed up with the project or run out of money, and hadn’t finished off the interior decoration. It could do with a new kitchen, but both bathrooms had already been replaced. The whole house had been rewired, and as far as she could tell the plumbing seemed sound. It was a three-bedroom house with two reception rooms. She loved the size of the rooms, which were so much bigger than in modern houses. It had a pretty front garden and parking spaces for two cars. The mature back garden had a large magnolia tree, and the beautiful flowers had been budding the first time Sophie visited the property. She’d fallen in love with the place straightaway.
She’d gone to view the house with her father, who had sucked in a breath through his teeth at the sight of the windows, which he declared needed replacing. And he looked horrified by the seventies-style wallpaper. But Sophie could see past all that. She could picture the interior decorated in warm tones and modern colours, and, most importantly, she could see herself relaxing there and enjoying her very own place.
It wasn’t that she didn’t love her parents or appreciate them. It was just that she hadn’t ever envisaged still living in her parents’ house when she was in her mid-twenties. All the articles published in the papers recently about people living with their parents when they were still in their forties had horrified her. She didn’t want to end up like that, but it was so hard to get on the housing ladder these days.
She’d been saving desperately since she joined the police, and had managed to secure a decent deposit. Many of her friends had their own houses, but most of them had been helped out by their parents or had an inheritance from grandparents. These days, buying a house was tough if your family couldn’t help you out.
She looked at her watch again. Now the meeting was fifteen minutes late. This was getting ridiculous. She reached for her handbag and was preparing to leave when she saw a tall woman rushing towards her with her hand outstretched. ‘Sophie Jones? I’m so sorry to keep you waiting. Nobody told me you’d arrived.’
The woman introduced herself as Pippa Kearny and babbled on, blaming her colleagues for the mix-up. Sophie felt like replying with a smart remark, but instead she smiled and shook the woman’s hand. ‘Nice to meet you.’
Pippa led the way into her office, which was really just a partitioned cubicle. Inside, there was barely enough room for her to squeeze around the desk.
Sophie managed to slip into one of the seats, put the folder on the desk in front of her, and tried to look more confident than she felt.
The mortgage adviser tapped a few keys on her keyboard and looked at her computer screen. ‘Right, so you’re looking for a mortgage. Have you seen a property you like?’
‘I have,’ Sophie said, and gave the details.
‘Okay, let’s see how we can help you.’
The next half an hour passed interminably slowly. Even though Sophie had already worked out her own finances with carefully allocated amounts for what she spent on her social life, food and other outgoings, the mortgage adviser wanted to do it her way, filling in yet another form, which was slightly different to Sophie’s format.
It was frustrating, but it would be worth it if she managed to get the house. Pippa tapped away on the keyboard, turning to Sophie and asking her questions every now and again. Finally, after pressing the enter button, her face fell.
‘Oh, I’m afraid that, according to our calculations, you won’t be able to afford that much of a mortgage. In fact, all we could offer you, if you’re buying it alone, based on your deposit, would be one hundred and twenty thousand.’
Sophie felt a sharp stab of disappointment. She’d been through her own finances and knew she could afford it. All right, her calculations didn’t leave much room for error, but this was ridiculous.
‘Are you sure? Maybe we should try the questionnaire thingy again.’
Pippa shook her head and gave Sophie a tight smile. ‘I’m afraid not. The computer doesn’t get it wrong.’
‘So you’re saying I can’t afford that house.’
‘Well, I couldn’t say that exactly, but we wouldn’t be able to lend you any more than one hundred and twenty thousand based on your current circumstances. Of course, you could try another bank, but I don’t think you’d be successful.’
‘I see.’ Sophie began to stuff all her papers back into her file.
‘I’m sorry we couldn’t be more help. But a young woman like you would probably be better off looking at something a bit cheaper to get you on the ladder. Maybe a flat or something, in the city.’
Sophie gave the woman a curt nod. She couldn’t believe this. She was disappointed they hadn’t agreed to lend her the money she needed, but most of all, she was irritated that she had been made to wait for ages only to be told they couldn’t help her.
She stood up and squeezed past the desk to get out of the cubicle, muttering, ‘Thank you for your time.’
Sophie collected her car from Lucy Tower Street car park and headed back to the station. She fought the urge to go back to Washingborough for one last look at her house. She still kept thinking of it as her house, which was ridiculous. She couldn’t afford it now, and by the time she could, it would be sold.
She hit the top of the steering wheel after she pulled out into a long line of traffic. Great. Now it would take ages to get back to the station.
It wasn’t fair. She’d always worked so hard. She’d been top of her class at school and achieved all A’s for her A levels. She could have gone to university like most of her friends, but she’d joined the police instead. Even when she finished school, her studies weren’t over. She took courses and read all the policing textbooks she could get her hands on, because she wanted to climb the career ladder as quickly as possible.
It had all started with getting lost at the park when she was six – a policeman had found her crying and returned her to her mum and dad. Since then, Sophie had always wanted to be a police officer. She had even done her school work experience at a police station. Of course, it had been admin work rather than witnessing any arrests, but she’d loved it. It was the job she’d always wanted, but right now she couldn’t shake the feeling she was standing still in her career.
She’d reached the rank of detective constable, but it felt like she was missing something – the experience she needed to progress. And that was frustrating. She was slowly coming to realise that you couldn’t learn everything from books and courses.
Finally clear of the traffic, she lightly pressed the accelerator and sighed. It wasn’t the end of the world. She’d be able to afford a home of her own soon. It would just take a little longer than she’d expected.
CHAPTER SIX
When Rick arrived at the hospital, he was on his best behaviour. DS Hart had warned him to be pleasant and as unobtrusive as possible. They needed the medical staff on their side. He’d followed Karen’s instructions, tiptoeing around the medical staff, trying to be amenable and to avoid offending anyone.