Текст книги "Jessica Daniel: Think of the Children / Playing with Fire / Thicker Than Water"

Автор книги: Kerry Wilkinson

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Текущая страница: 29 (всего у книги 56 страниц)

Jessica quickened her pace with Rowlands by her side, as Harley ignored the officers who were trying to talk to him. Jessica didn’t realise how tall he was until she got closer to him. He was definitely over six feet tall and, even from the back, she could see he was in pretty good shape. His suit appeared to be custom-fitted, tightly hugging his waist. She would have guessed it cost a lot of money but Harley didn’t seem to care. He stood in the rain staring at the property, watching a thin plume of smoke rise into the air.

As they saw her approach, the other officers parted, almost as if Jessica was the welcoming committee. She suspected the truth was that none of them wanted to speak first.

‘Mr Todd?’ Jessica asked quietly but the man didn’t flinch. She circled around his car, pushing the driver’s door closed, and continued until she was standing in front of him slightly off to one side. She could see the raindrops dribbling down Harley’s face, his eyes wide in disbelief. ‘Mr Todd?’ Jessica asked again.

The man mumbled a ‘yes’ without moving his eyes from the house.

‘I’m Detective Sergeant Daniel. Would you like to come and sit with me somewhere dry?’ Jessica spoke gently, placing an arm on his shoulder and finally drawing the man’s eyes towards her.

‘I . . . I don’t know what to do,’ he stammered.

Jessica gripped his upper arm and motioned for him to turn around. Slowly, he followed as she led him towards the back of a police van. Rowlands had stopped trying to protect his hair with his jacket and he walked quickly ahead of them, opening the rear doors and holding them for Jessica and Harley to step inside. Most of the vans in the police fleet were used to transport prisoners but this one had seats that ran lengthways and was used to take officers to wherever they were needed at speed.

A line of small white spot lamps were fitted to the ceiling and Rowlands walked around to the front of the vehicle to turn them on as Harley sat on one side with Jessica opposite. She leant against the inside of the van, thinking of how long it seemed since she had been in the rear of a van with Martin Chadwick. Harley hunched forward, using one hand to support his head. Rowlands joined them shortly after, sitting next to Jessica. She could feel the dampness of his suit on the back of her hand as he brushed against her.

‘I’m sure I didn’t leave anything on . . .’ Harley said, tailing off.

Jessica didn’t know for sure whether it had been started deliberately but it seemed too much of a coincidence for it to be accidental. ‘We have people who will look into what started it,’ she replied.

‘I just . . . my daughter . . . and now . . .’ Harley stared at Jessica but she didn’t think he was really looking at her. His hair, which appeared to have been heavily backcombed at some point, was now flat and damp.

‘Get a blanket,’ Jessica told Rowlands quietly. She knew there would be one somewhere on one of the fire engines.

As he climbed out of the vehicle, Jessica leant over to touch Harley’s hand. ‘I have to ask this,’ she said delicately. ‘Do you know someone who might have a grudge against you?’

His eyes drifted into focus and Jessica could tell he was now looking at her properly. ‘Like who?’ he asked.

Jessica said nothing in reply, not knowing what she could tell a man who had lost his daughter and property within a week of each other.

15

Jessica had not got anything of any real note from Harley Todd, mainly as he was in shock. She left uniformed officers to make sure he was all right, one of whom would take a formal statement at some point. She suspected it would not happen until the following morning at the earliest.

As she left the house, Jessica first checked with Reynolds and then called Bootle Street Police Station to tell them there was no reason to continue to hold Anthony Thompson. She told them he might argue he wanted to stay in so he could keep a roof over his head but he was too difficult to read. Most people would simply go home but Anthony was anything but normal.

She had only wanted him kept in to see if he might have anything else for them in the morning but, given what had happened, there was no way she would have time to return to see him for a few days.

In the morning briefing, Cole had received a provisional verdict from the investigating fire officer. As with the blaze at the Chadwicks’ house, the officer believed some sort of accelerant – most likely petrol – had been used to start the fire at Harley Todd’s house. The rain had helped put out the flames but wasn’t helping with preserving the crime scene, so the chief inspector told Jessica there would be no formal verdict for a while. Either way, she didn’t doubt that the two blazes were connected. Cole and Reynolds seemed less sure. Jessica thought about revealing the drawings Aidan had passed her of Ryan’s but Reynolds’s words about her growing obsession were stuck in her mind.

The other thing that wasn’t helping was that the media had got hold of the story that the man whose daughter had committed suicide days earlier had now lost his home to fire. Their details were sketchy but the Manchester Morning Herald’s website in particular had pictures, with the rest of the news media – including television – also reporting from the scene. The Herald’s late edition led with the headline ‘TWISTED FIRESTARTER’, which wasn’t exactly helpful.

Jessica excused herself from the meeting as her phone rang, with Andrew Hunter’s name appearing on the screen. ‘Sergeant Daniel?’ he clarified, before she relented and told him to call her ‘Jess’. She only made people who annoyed her use her title.

He asked if she knew about the fire, not knowing she had been there.

‘Have you heard from Harley?’ Jessica asked, walking down the stairs from the DCI’s office towards her own.

‘He woke me up at about five o’clock,’ Andrew replied, although he wasn’t complaining. ‘He had checked into a hotel and sounded like a completely different guy. I didn’t know what to tell him.’

‘Why did he call you?’

Andrew sighed loudly. ‘Honestly? I think he just wanted someone to talk to. His daughter’s gone, he left his wife and I don’t get the feeling he’s in the type of industry that appreciates you talking about those kinds of thing.’

Jessica opened the door to her office and was relieved to see it was empty. She moved to her own desk and leant back in her chair. ‘What does he do?’ she asked, realising she had no idea.

‘He runs some sort of consultancy firm. I don’t know the details exactly but I looked him up and it’s all about finance. It’s not the type of thing I would usually ask a client.’

Jessica thought that explained the wealth. ‘Did he ever tell you about anyone who might have a grudge against him? A former business partner or something dull like that?’

Andrew ummed for a few moments before replying. ‘So you think it’s deliberate then?’

Jessica winced and was grateful no one had overheard her accidentally giving the information away. It would only be a matter of time before the media got hold of it properly but it wouldn’t help if she was telling private investigators what they were thinking.

‘We’re looking at all the angles,’ she replied, thinking it sounded fairly unconvincing.

Andrew paused for a moment in a silence Jessica thought sounded distinctly smug.

‘The only person he’s mentioned that has a grudge is his ex-wife.’

‘It’s not her,’ Jessica said, relaxing into her chair. ‘He mentioned her to one of the officers last night. She’s in Mexico on holiday.’

‘Could she have hired someone?’

She knew that possibility was being looked into, although there was no reason to think the woman had done. Jessica laughed, thinking it was partial payback for the cocky-sounding silence he had subjected her to moments earlier. ‘You’ve watched too many TV shows and not done enough proper work,’ she replied.

Andrew didn’t sound as if he had taken it to heart. ‘Do you have any other ideas?’

Jessica reminded him that she couldn’t give him those details as he was a ‘nobody’.

‘No offence,’ she added, knowing full well that anyone using those two words definitely did mean to be offensive. ‘What are you going to do now?’ she added, realising she was being hypocritical in asking his business while refusing to tell him hers.

He replied anyway. ‘I’m off to see Harley at his hotel later. I’m not sure after that. It doesn’t seem right taking his money any longer.’

Jessica told him he could ring her if need be and hung up. As she did, her phone flashed to say she had two missed calls – both from a number she didn’t recognise. She slid the file that contained Ryan’s drawings out from under the stack she had left it in and began to look through them, wishing she had passed them on in the first instance.

She understood why Reynolds said he wanted no part of them – but she was desperate to share her concerns about Ryan with people who might agree with her. Again, she tidied them away and pushed the cardboard folder back to the bottom of the heap.

Looking back to her phone, and knowing she would regret it, Jessica redialled the missed calls number. It only rang once before a voice she instantly recognised answered. ‘Detective Sergeant Daniel,’ the man said with a hint of sarcasm in his voice. ‘How are you today?’

‘How did you get my number, Sebastian?’

Even without seeing him, Jessica could tell he was smiling. She remembered the cheeky way he smirked at her in the electrical store’s car park and the way his dark eyes matched the grin. ‘I know people who know people,’ he replied.

Jessica thought there was a certain news editor she would be having words with. ‘What do you want?’ she asked, trying to sound annoyed.

‘I’m following up about last night’s fire. I gather the person who the house belongs to is the same person whose daughter died last week. Is that correct?’

‘That’s what you printed so it must be true. Just like that story with the talking dog you had the other month.’ Jessica didn’t know why he was asking as the information was already out.

Sebastian didn’t reply instantly but the fact she knew he was enjoying the conversation was winding her up. ‘It doesn’t do any harm to get a second source,’ the journalist said. ‘Okay, how about a link to the fire at Martin Chadwick’s house?’

Jessica’s first thought was that Sebastian must somehow know something she didn’t about Ryan. ‘How do you mean?’ she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

She could hear the man blowing through his teeth as a soft whisper echoed down the line. ‘Well, you have to admit it’s a bit of a coincidence that a known arsonist comes out of prison and, within a week or so, his house and someone else’s in the city has been burned down.’

Jessica didn’t think it was a coincidence but she didn’t want to tell him that. She picked up a pen and began tapping it on her desk. ‘Why would someone burn their own house down?’

‘I don’t know. I didn’t say he did. I just said it was a coincidence that two houses burned down shortly after his release.’

Jessica stopped drumming the pen and instead launched it across the room. It clanged off the edge of the bin, launched vertically into the air and then bounced off the wall, ending up a good metre away from the target.

‘Shite,’ Jessica mumbled.

‘Sorry?’

‘Not you. Look, what do you want me to say? I can neither confirm, nor deny, blah-di-blah, insert whatever quote you want here.’ Jessica paused for dramatic effect. ‘Just phone the press office. Why are you calling me?’

‘I was hoping we could go out some time.’

‘No we can’t. I’m engaged and you’re a knobhead. I don’t go out with knobheads. Can we leave it at that? Don’t call me again.’

Jessica removed the phone from her ear and struggled to hang up, at first waiting for the screen’s light to turn back on and then forgetting which button ended the call.

She picked up the receiver from her desk phone then slammed it down just to prove a point. The problem with mobile phones was that you couldn’t emphasise when you were hanging up on someone.

Jessica stood and walked across the room to pick up her pen, kicking the bin to protest at the way it had rejected her shot. She then stormed back to her desk and picked up her mobile phone before dialling Garry Ashford’s number. He answered on the third ring with a friendly sounding ‘Hello’ but Jessica cut in.

‘Why did you give my number to Sebastian?’

‘Um, what?’

‘You gave my phone number to that journalist Sebastian. Why?’

Jessica was annoyed – but more with herself for not being annoyed. Usually if someone had passed her details along without asking, especially to a journalist, she would have been fuming. As it was, she knew she wasn’t that bothered – and that was frustrating her the most.

‘I didn’t, Jess, I’ve never given it to anyone.’

‘How did he get it then?’ Jessica snapped.

‘I don’t know. He’s very resourceful.’ Garry sounded sorry even though he wasn’t apologising for anything.

Reluctantly, Jessica accepted he was telling the truth and sighed in defeat. ‘Right, just tell him not to call me again.’

Jessica was ready for the end call button the second time and stabbed it in victory to hang up.

She thought of the smug, smiley, long-eyelashed journalist and the way he had popped into her mind a couple of evenings ago. ‘Bastard,’ she said out loud to the empty room and then bounded into the hallway to find someone to shout at.

‘Have I done something wrong?’ Rowlands asked. Jessica could see a mixture of amusement and bewilderment on his face.

‘We have been working together way too long,’ she replied. Dave wheeled the chair he was sitting in backwards as Jessica, who was perched on his desk, swung her legs around, narrowly avoiding kicking him in the knees.

‘Who’s annoyed you this time?’ he asked with a sympathetic smile.

Jessica wasn’t too pleased with the way he had apparently read her mood perfectly and deduced that her dumping a load of work on him was directly related to someone else annoying her.

She shuffled backwards until she was sitting fully on his desk. ‘Never mind that, I still need this job doing. I don’t care if you do it, or if you get someone else to do it.’

Rowlands reached forward and picked up a pad and pen from his desk. His smile had disappeared now he realised she was being serious.

‘Go on, tell me again. I was too busy watching the steam come out of your ears last time.’

‘Right, just for that, you’re doing it. I want a list of all criminals in the Greater Manchester area who have links to arson attacks. They might have actual fire-related convictions or just be some stupid teenager who once set something on fire by accident. Pull all the names together and then see if we can cross-match them against any of Harley Todd, Sienna Todd, Martin Chadwick, Ryan Chadwick or Anthony Thompson. If we get any double matches, all the better.’

Rowlands screwed up his face in protest. ‘That’s going to take ages.’

‘Well get on with it then. You’re going grey as it is.’

He rolled his eyes and fake-yawned. ‘That’s a new one. Anyway, where are you going?’

Jessica stood up from the desk and reached around to gently knead her lower back where it was beginning to ache again. ‘I’ve got someone to speak to. Call me if you find anyone who is connected to more than one person on that list.’

She turned to leave but the constable added: ‘What’s up with your back?’

She shook her head. ‘Nothing.’

‘It’s your age,’ Rowlands replied with a smirk.

Jessica grinned at him. ‘Just for that I want full records for Lancashire and Cheshire as well. Now get on with it – chop, chop. One more word and it’s Merseyside too.’

Jessica wriggled to get comfortable in her car seat, trying to ignore Rowlands’s probably fair point about her back pain being down to her age and wondering how Andrew Hunter did what he did. She had been watching the garage Ryan Chadwick worked at for over twenty minutes and, aside from someone dropping off their vehicle, she hadn’t seen anything of note.

After checking with Martin about his son’s whereabouts, Jessica set off to have another word with Ryan, not entirely sure what she was going to say. She remembered Andrew telling her how he would watch and take photos of people, blending into the scenery and going unseen. Jessica thought all of that might be true but it was also pretty boring.

The garage was located just off Stockport Road roughly halfway between where Ryan’s house had been and the city centre. The red brick of the building had turned greyish and a large set of double sliding doors painted blue were exactly in the centre, opening out onto the road. At one end was an office, with a smaller double-glazed door that had a sign in a matching blue over the top advertising cheap MOTs.

As she watched, one half of the blue metal doors slid open noisily. A mechanic wearing a grey sweatshirt and jeans that had long been abandoned to oil and dirt emerged. He walked over to a car that had been parked on the road and then climbed inside and drove it through the door, which moments later was hauled shut again.

Jessica was on the brink of phoning Andrew to tell him what she thought of his job when the door opened a small amount and Ryan emerged, closing it behind him. He was wearing a far cleaner pair of jeans than the previous person who had exited and he was in the process of pulling on an olive green army-type jacket which reached his knees. He pulled a mobile phone out of his trouser pocket and walked along the road talking into it. Jessica waited for a couple of vehicles to pass and then got out of her car, locking it behind her and hurrying after the young man.

The air was cool, a breeze blowing across her, chilling her face and making her shiver. Jessica pulled her jacket tighter and followed Ryan around a corner that led towards an alleyway she knew would open onto the main road. As she moved around the bend still trying to adjust her coat, Jessica collided with something and stepped back in surprise. Looking up, she saw Ryan glaring at her, his grey eyes narrow and formidable.

‘Why are you following me?’ he asked. His voice was calm but his top lip was twitching.

‘Where were you last night?’ she asked, ignoring his question.

He glared at Jessica, clearly struggling to control himself. ‘Didn’t you have someone taking pictures of me?’

‘Should I have?’ Jessica knew she had to be careful.

‘Why aren’t you out catching the man who burned our house down? You know who did it.’

Jessica knew she either shouldn’t have come or should have thought through what she wanted to say. She struggled for words before eventually replying. ‘We’re still looking into it.’

Ryan swore and spat on the ground. ‘You know who did it! He said in the paper he was going to.’

‘We don’t know.’

‘So what’s this all about? That slag Sienna? I told you I don’t know anything.’ Ryan shook his head and stomped on the ground. Jessica doubted he was aware he was doing it, but it was clear he couldn’t control his anger.

‘You shouldn’t say things like that. She’s dead.’

Jessica was trying to be sincere and Ryan clearly sensed it. He smiled broadly. ‘Why are you upset over her? Is it all the dick she got? Do you fancy some too?’

He reached down to grab for his crotch but had barely touched himself when Jessica slapped him hard across the face. It was instinctive and something she instantly regretted. She stepped away as Ryan reached up to his lip where a small smear of blood had appeared. The teenager stared at the red liquid dribbling down his fingers and then back up to her.

‘I’m sorry, I . . .’ Jessica began but Ryan glared through her before turning and walking away. He hadn’t said a word but he didn’t need to as his eyes gave her a very simple message.

‘You’ll regret that’.

16

It was little comfort to Jessica as the verdict on Sienna’s death was finally confirmed as suicide the following day. It wasn’t that she had been hoping for something else, just that it made things harder to comprehend.

Jessica was sitting in a quiet corner of the station’s canteen reading through the coroner’s initial paperwork but there was nothing that jumped out at her, not that she would have expected it to. Knowing the information would make its way into the media sooner or later, Jessica called Andrew Hunter and told him the news.

He was silent for a few moments before responding. ‘Have you told Harley yet?’

‘Not me, no, but someone will do.’

She heard the investigator taking a deep breath. ‘I saw him last night. He’s in a hotel in the centre. He had a laptop on the bed and seemed determined to work nonstop. When I met him a few weeks ago he was this big, influential man but he doesn’t have that aura about him now. I tried to tell him I didn’t want his money but he wouldn’t listen.’

‘So what are you investigating?’

Andrew gave a small laugh but it didn’t sound as if there was any humour to it. ‘Honestly? I don’t know. He seems to think there’s this conspiracy involving his daughter and his house. It’s not like I could stand there and tell the guy not to be silly. He practically forced me to carry on working for him.’

Jessica was beginning to warm to the man. She had no real opinion of the occupation, thinking that most private investigators were retired police officers. Aside from taking photographs of people, she didn’t know what he actually did but he did seem to care about his work, which was more than she could say for a handful of people she worked with.

‘What are you going to do?’ she asked.

‘I don’t know. What do you think? Do you reckon the fire could be linked to Sienna?’

Jessica hadn’t revealed her reasons for taking the printouts of the photographs from Andrew, so he didn’t know about the connection to Ryan.

‘I’m not sure,’ Jessica said. ‘Why would they be?’

She was hoping Andrew might offer her something she hadn’t thought of. The man sighed again. ‘I was hoping you could tell me.’

If she hadn’t have been feeling so hopeless, Jessica might have laughed. They were each relying on the other to provide some sort of reasoning for what had happened. Jessica said goodbye and told Andrew to stay in contact.

She walked back to her office, where Reynolds was heading along the corridor towards her. ‘Bad news?’ Jessica asked, reading the serious look on his face.

‘Not really,’ he replied, holding some papers out towards her.

Jessica took them, holding them to her side. ‘What are they?’

The inspector smiled. ‘You could try reading them.’

‘I’ve got far more literate people like you to do that for me.’

‘Let’s go in here.’

Reynolds led Jessica into his office. She shared with DS Cornish but the inspector had one to himself along the corridor. Usually it was tidy but, as they entered, Jessica could see a row of files on the floor to her right pressed up against the wall.

‘You’re going to be as messy as me soon,’ Jessica said, pointing to the items on the floor.

‘No one in here is as messy as you,’ the DI fired back, as he sat in the chair behind his desk. ‘That’s the report from the investigating officer from the fire at Martin Chadwick’s house.’

Jessica sat in the chair across the desk from her supervisor. She glanced at the top of the document. ‘Arson?’

‘As we thought. At least it’s confirmed now.’

‘Is there anything about Martin’s claims that his back door and window had been obstructed?’

Reynolds nodded. ‘It might be hard to prove completely but there was a singed rope recovered on the ground at the back. There’s so much damage to the property that we wouldn’t be able to say where it came from but it might be true.’

‘Someone actually tried to kill him then?’

It was the theory they had been working with but, now it was as confirmed as they were going to get, it was still a shock for Jessica.

‘Yes but I don’t think we can start looking at an attempted murder investigation just yet. Maybe that will come when we pick someone up for the fire?’

‘What about the blaze at Harley Todd’s? It sounds like the report is going to be similar there – except that he was out when it happened.’

Reynolds shook his head. ‘Aside from the fact they both appear to have been started deliberately, we don’t know of another link. A known arsonist comes out of prison and we have had two houses burned down within a couple of weeks – including his. Door-to-door has given us nothing, we have no witnesses, no footprints, no anything.’

They looked at each other and Jessica knew neither of them had a clue where to go from there. They laughed gently at their situation. ‘I’ve had Dave making a list of known arsonists in the local area. Everyone from kids upwards. I’ll go see if he’s managed to link any of them to the rest of the information we have.’

‘What about Ryan?’ Reynolds asked as Jessica stood.

For a moment she wondered if he somehow knew she had hit the teenager the previous day. ‘What about him?’

‘The other day you seemed convinced he had something to do with Sienna Todd’s death and the fire.’ The inspector was staring at her.

Jessica met his eyes. ‘I can’t find anything concrete.’

‘Anthony Thompson?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘I had an officer drive past his house last night and there were lights on. I think he’s back at home.’ The DI paused before adding: ‘Just so you know.’

Jessica started to walk towards the door but the inspector had another question. ‘Why aren’t you thinking about Martin Chadwick?’

It was a question she had been wondering herself. There was an insurance policy on his house which would likely pay out – although, according to him, it was now in Ryan’s name.

‘I don’t think it’s him,’ Jessica said. ‘I don’t think he would burn his own house down and I don’t think he torched Harley’s either.’

Reynolds spoke precisely. ‘I checked with the hotel Martin is staying in to see if he was in his room on the night Harley Todd’s house was burned down.’ Jessica felt a chill go through her, knowing what he was about to say. ‘The person who was working on reception told me he left the hotel early evening and didn’t return until after midnight.’

Jessica walked back across the room and leant on the back of the chair she had been sitting on. ‘You can’t think he burned his own house down? Why would he do that?’

‘Not a bad cover, is it? If your place has been destroyed, everyone sees you as the victim.’ Jessica knew he was speculating, trying to get her opinion on something he’d had in his own mind. She had been the only person to witness the emotional side of Martin as they sat in the rear of the van and couldn’t see how he could go from that to burning down buildings.

‘I’m getting someone to look into his background,’ Reynolds added. ‘We know what he went to prison for but maybe there were arson attacks before that?’

‘Will you let me know if you find anything?’ Jessica asked.

Reynolds tilted his head to one side, fixing her with the protective stare she used to see a lot more often when they shared an office. ‘Don’t get involved, Jess,’ he said firmly.

Jessica met his eyes and gave a small nod, before turning and leaving his office. She didn’t know why she cared so much that whatever was happening was not down to Martin. It wasn’t often that she allowed herself to become attached to the people she was supposed to be investigating but there was something about the moment she shared with him in the back of the van that she wanted to believe was real.

With all the people she dealt with and the horrific things she saw, it gave her some comfort that there was genuine remorse out there.

She chewed on her lip, hurrying along the corridors to the main floor where she could see Rowlands at his desk frantically clicking the mouse next to his keyboard. Jessica slid herself in front of him, blocking his view of the monitor.

‘How are you getting on?’ she asked.

Rowlands scowled at her. ‘This computer system is absolute shite. I’ve crashed twice today already.’

‘Yeah, yeah, a bad workman blames his tools and all that. What have you got?’

Rowlands shook his head but Jessica could see he was suppressing a smile. ‘You’re all heart, Jess.’ He pointed to a lever-arch folder on his desk. ‘These are the records of everyone in the area with priors for arson or anything similar. There aren’t as many as I thought. I’ve been trying to do it through the computer but it’s not having it, so it’s back to paper. I’ve had two others going through the lists with me but we can’t connect any of them to either of the Chadwicks, the Todds or Anthony Thompson. The best I’ve got is that one of them was in the same prison at the same time as Martin Chadwick. I checked their records and they were on different wings. It’s tenuous at best.’

Jessica knew it was always going to be a long shot but it was something that had to be done. She stood, feeling another jolt of pain shoot through her back, but stopped herself from touching it to avoid any further age jokes.

‘All right, good work,’ she said.

Rowlands raised one of his eyebrows and grinned. ‘Is that praise?’

‘Let’s call it an anti-bollocking.’

Jessica couldn’t figure out if the man who was boring her was wearing a suit or a uniform. It was a little of each, with a red handkerchief sticking out from his pocket and matching sash around his waist that was the same colour as the hotel’s logo. Jessica realised she hadn’t listened to anything he had told her for at least the past five minutes, if not longer. She felt Adam’s arm snake around her waist and heard him say, ‘Can you give us a few minutes?’, before leading her back towards the main doors of the hotel.

‘What do you think?’ he asked.

‘As a wedding venue?’

‘What else?’

Jessica struggled to hide her lack of enthusiasm, biting her bottom lip and shrugging. ‘I don’t know.’

Adam’s face broke into a knowing smile and she was aware he had dealt with her apathy many times in the past. ‘What don’t you like?’ he asked, smoothing the hair down on the side of her face, before sitting on the stone steps.

Jessica sat next to him, resting her head on his shoulder. ‘I dunno. I think it’s that bloke to be honest.’

Adam put his arm fully around her and laughed. ‘What’s wrong with him?’