Death on the Lake by Jo Allen (early reader books TXT) 📗

drama to distract her. ‘Ollie. Will. That’s your father. He’ll be home in a few hours.’ A conspiratorial smile shifted their expressions from apprehension to optimism. ‘I’m not promising anything. But leave it with me and I’ll see what I can do to keep him sweet.’

Robert, in the end, could not be kept sweet, though she did her best and she could tell by the look on the twins’ faces that they appreciated her efforts. In the end, when the storm that had broken within minutes of his arrival and endured throughout the evening meal had failed to blow through by dusk, Miranda had withdrawn from the battle, vanquished. While Robert was taking a business call, scowling with irritation at having been forced to come home because of his sons’ immaturity, she took her glass of wine and strayed out to the garden.

After the rain, as so often, it had turned into a beautiful day, though not as hot as the Sunday which had seen the death of Summer. The wine — it was her second glass — had failed to slow her heartbeat and all it did was stir those old memories. Her pulse quickened. Fear. Again.

If Summer’s death — if Summer’s presence at Waterside Lodge — was in any way sinister, what did that mean for her? They would be coming for her, but where from? From the lake? From the narrow road that wound up the dale, a single track into a dead end that left her waiting on the lakeside like a rat in a trap? Or over the trackless hillsides from Boredale or Martindale?

But she’d been wondering that for years, a fear so far without foundation. No-one would come for her now. All that had changed was that Summer’s death had raised the ghosts she’d thought were long laid.

‘All right?’

Behind her, Robert’s soft footsteps made her twitch with nerves before she realised who it was and remembered that with him at home she was safe. ‘Of course.’ A pause. ‘I’m so sorry about what happened. I really don’t think the boys meant any harm. I should have looked after them better.’

‘Why?’ Robert was a man with a keen sense of justice, one who never placed blame where it didn’t belong. ‘You’re their stepmother. You have a far better relationship with those boys that I ever imagined you could, but I don’t expect them to recognise your authority. For God’s sake, they don’t recognise their mother’s. And they’re eighteen.’

Ollie had made that point in the early part of his defence, before he’d allowed Will’s rapid submission to drag him down with it. ‘I know. And I’m fond of them. But they—’

‘They’re pushing the boundaries. Fine. Now they know where they are.’

She paused and swirled the wine around in her glass. The lights from the picture windows stretched out to compete with the last of the sunset over behind Helvellyn. The artificial light would inevitably win the battle as the world turned and the darkness consumed them for another night. ‘When will you be away again?’

‘Not to Frankfurt for a while. London, for a couple of days next week. They’ll be long days, but I’ll be back to keep cracking the whip until I’m sure those boys have learned their lesson.’ His smile showed how proud he was of them, deep down. ‘No, scratch that. I don’t want to leave you here alone after what’s happened. I’ll ask Aida to come up from London and we can work from here. I won’t ask her to stay, and she won’t be in your way. I’ll put her up somewhere decent. Penrith.’

Not too close. That was good news for her peace of mind. Aida Collins, Robert’s PA, was fifty years old and looked older, grey-haired and forbidding and not remotely a threat, but she was someone whose presence was so severe, whose attitude very much that of a gatekeeper for her employer’s secrets, that she left Miranda feeling intimidated. All I want is peace, Miranda pleaded, to no-one in particular. ‘Perhaps the police will leave us alone now.’

‘I hope so.’ His lips narrowed.

Robert staying was a security blanket, as well as easing the pressure of dealing with her challenging stepsons, but maybe he had other reasons for keeping an eye on goings-on. Miranda looked away, in case there was something in his expression she wouldn’t like. She never asked questions about his business. If there was anything dubious about where her husband’s money came from, she’d be better not knowing.

In a strange way there would be comfort if she did. Shared secrets allowed you to love someone for what they were, just as confession cleared your conscience. If only she had the courage to trade secrets with Robert, so their marriage could be strengthened by the knowledge they kept, the ability it gave them to save and to betray one another. Then perhaps she might not be so afraid.

Because fear, like loyalty and friendship, made you do terrible, terrible things.

Nine

At the police headquarters in Penrith, the missing person inquiry had become a matter of suspicious death and Faye Scanlon, on hearing of it, had made her usual point of going straight to the horse’s mouth.

‘Okay, Jude.’ She stalked into the office he shared with Doddsy, who was elsewhere, and positioned herself squarely in front of his desk. ‘Let’s hear it. Did the girl die by accident?’

‘It looks like it to me. I haven’t seen the PM results yet, but they’ll go to Doddsy.’ He looked down at his watch. ‘He and Ashleigh and Chris are coming along in a few minutes for a quick briefing. And Tammy’s going to pop round and tell us what they’ve uncovered at the scene. Hopefully we’ll have a clearer idea of what’s going on after that.’

She put her head to one side as if deciding whether to say more, then perched on the corner of Doddsy’s desk. ‘I do hope your people didn’t cause too much alert and alarm.’

‘You really