Where There's Smoke

CHAPTER 6

As soon as she saw Lucy Kate could tell that something was wrong. They had arranged to meet at lunchtime in the park, where they could have a sandwich from the snack bar while Angus played. But as she approached the bench where Lucy sat, she could see that her face was flushed behind her sunglasses, her blonde hair even more unkempt than usual. Emily was at nursery school, and Angus sat alone on the grass in front of his mother, bleary-eyed and snuffling in the aftermath of recent tears as he half-heartedly played with a toy fire engine.

The child looked at Kate through wet lashes, unsmilingly, as she greeted him and sat beside Lucy on the bench. She had been almost bursting with her own news, but now she pushed it forcibly into the background.

“What’s been going on?” she asked.

Lucy gave a terse shake of her head. Through the dark screen of the sunglasses, her eyes were all but obscured. “Don’t ask. He’s feeling sorry for himself because he’s had a slap.”

Angus regarded his mother tearfully. Kate looked with surprise from the red handprint on his chubby leg to Lucy. Lucy’s reprimands were usually no more than stern words, and even they were rare.

“What did he do?” she asked. “Murder somebody?”

It was meant to lighten the situation, but Lucy’s mouth tightened as she glared at her son. “Practically. We were by the pond and this little girl came up to him, just wanting to play, so he hit her on the head with his fire engine.”

Kate’s mouth twitched, but it was obvious that Lucy wasn’t in a laughing mood.

“He didn’t hurt her, did he?”

“Of course he hurt her!” Lucy leaned towards him, raising her voice. “You made her head bleed, didn’t you? You bad boy!”

Angus began to cry again, covering his eyes with pudgy hands.

“Oh, Lucy …” Kate said.

“Don’t feel sorry for him! Bullies don’t deserve it!” The last was addressed to her son again. Still sobbing, he clambered to his feet and tottered towards them, arms outstretched.

“No, I don’t want you,” Lucy said, as he approached her. “I don’t have anything to do with bullies.”

With a heartbroken wail, the little boy turned and buried his head on Kate’s legs. She could feel him quivering with the force of his sobs, and knowing Lucy wouldn’t like it but unable to help herself, she reached down and picked him up. His small body was heavy and solid, radiating heat. He settled against her, burying his face against her neck. It felt hot and wet.

“Come on, Lucy,” she said, over his head. “Don’t you think you’re going a bit over the top?”

Lucy didn’t say anything for a moment, then some of the tension seemed to ebb from her. “Okay. Give him here.”

Sensing his mother’s change in mood, Angus turned to her, holding out his arms. Lucy heaved him from Kate and set him on her knee. Kate felt a momentary sense of loss as the child was taken from her. She watched the little boy snuggle against his mother.

“Are you sorry now?” Lucy asked, but the bite had left her voice. “You’re not going to be a bully again, are you?”

Angus shook his head, hiccuping as his sobs began to subside. Lucy smoothed his damp hair off his forehead and gave Kate a rueful smile. “You’ve got snot on your shoulder.”

Kate wiped it off with a tissue. She could still feel the weight of the child’s body against her, like ghost pains after an amputation. “So what’s really the matter?” she asked.

Light sparked off Lucy’s sunglasses, hiding her eyes. “One of Jack’s clients has just gone bust. Owing us ten thousand.” She broke off, looking out over the park. “We can’t afford to lose that sort of money. And Jack’s just upgraded all his hardware for the business.” She gave a shake of her head, still not looking at Kate. “I don’t know what we’re going to do. We might have to sell the house.”

“Oh, Lucy, no!”

Lucy shrugged. “It might not come to that. Jack’s gone to see the bank today. But if they turn sludgy …” She didn’t bother to finish.

Kate quickly ran through her own financial situation. “I might be able to lend you something. Not ten thousand, but it might help tide you over. So you can keep the house.” She knew how much Lucy and Jack loved their home. If they had to sell, they would never have anywhere like it again.

Lucy smiled, bleakly. “Thanks, Kate. I appreciate it, but … well, let’s see what the bank says, shall we?”

She took a deep breath. “You can imagine that I wasn’t in the best of moods to start with, though. And when this little monster …” she gave Angus a squeeze “… turned into Hannibal Lecter, it just capped things off nicely.”

She gave a grin. “Anyway, so much for my traumas. How’s your neighbour?”

“About the same.” Kate had visited Miss Willoughby again, but the old lady didn’t seem to have improved.

“Have the police caught the sods who did it?”

“Not yet. She hasn’t been able to give very good descriptions, so unless they catch them doing something else it isn’t very hopeful.”

Lucy shook her head. “God, doesn’t it make you seethe, though? They want birching! An old woman in her eighties, and on her own too! What a way to end up.”

Kate was silent. She thought about the old lady’s flat, bare of family mementoes. The only photographs on display were formal, framed ones of a school, fading pictures of Miss Willoughby with other people’s children, all long since grown-up. She wondered if any of them ever remembered their old teacher. Loneliness was the smell of cooked cabbage and old age.

“I’ve found a clinic,” she said.

Lucy looked startled at the change in tack. “What?”

“I’ve found a clinic. To carry out the donor insemination.”

“I thought you’d given up on that idea?”

“No. I just didn’t like the thought of an anonymous donor. But I phoned the HFEA, and they said that although clinics have to keep their own donors’ identity confidential, there are some that’ll let you use a “known donor” instead. Someone that you know, that you’ve picked yourself.”

“Like who?” Lucy sounded appalled.

“I don’t know yet.” It was enough for the moment that she knew it was possible.

“For God’s sake, Kate, I thought the whole idea was that you didn’t want the father involved!”

“I still don’t, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care who he is.”

“Yes, but the point is he’ll know who you are as well, won’t he? I thought an anonymous donor was bad enough, but at least then you don’t have to worry about what he’s going to do afterwards! Supposing he changes his mind and decides it’s his baby as much as yours? You’re leaving yourself open for all sorts of problems!”

“Not if I’m careful who I choose. And he’ll only have the same standing as an ordinary donor. He won’t be recognised as the legal father, so he won’t have any rights to custody or anything. I’ll just have to make sure that’s clear from the start.”

Lucy bit off whatever she had been going to say. “So have you actually found a clinic that’ll do it?”

“There’s one in Birmingham — “

“Birmingham!”

“I know it’s a long way, but they seem pretty good.” That wasn’t the only reason. Kate had phoned a good portion of the clinics listed in the HFEA’s brochure — including the one she had already been to — before eventually finding one that was prepared both to treat a single woman and use a known donor.

Lucy was tight-lipped with silent criticism. “So what do you do now?”

“I’ve made an appointment to see the counsellor. I suppose I’ll take it from there.”

Angus had begun to fidget. Lucy slid him off her knee. Sniffling, he tottered back to his fire engine. “Don’t you think this is all getting a bit out of hand?”

“Why? You said yourself there was no harm in talking to somebody about it.”

“Yes, but you’ve already done that.” Lucy watched Angus sit down heavily on the grass and pick up the red plastic toy. “This isn’t just talking any more, is it? You’re acting like you’re planning to actually go ahead with it.”

“You mean you thought I wasn’t serious.” Kate heard the acerbic note creep into her voice.

“No, but …” Lucy stopped.

“What?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Yes, it does. What?”

Lucy sighed, as though she found the entire subject tiresome. “Well, I just know what you’re like. If you get your mind set on anything, you’re like a dog with a bone. You won’t let go, and I can see this turning into something like that. Another ‘project’ you’ve got to see through. And I think you’re making a big mistake.”

Kate could feel the blood rushing to her cheeks. “And that’s all it is, is it? Another project?”

Lucy wore the expression of someone who wanted to talk about something else, but wasn’t prepared to let go of their point. “No, I’m not saying that’s all it is, but — “

“Yes, you are!” Kate could feel the last strings of her temper slipping through her fingers. “You act like this is just some sort of — of whim you can talk me out of!”

A flush had begun to creep up Lucy’s neck to her cheeks, which were still red from earlier. “Look, Kate, it’s your life. If you’re serious about wanting a baby like this, then I’m not stopping you. But I still think you’re digging a hole for yourself, and you’re not going to get me to change my mind, so you might as well stop whingeing on about it.”

The words hung in the air between them. The silence grew, broken by distant laughter in the park and the sound of Angus pulling the fire engine’s ladder up, then down.

“I’d better go,” Kate said.

Lucy gave a terse nod. Neither of them mentioned the lunch they were supposed to be having. Kate walked away without looking back.

Her anger barely diminished during the tube ride back to the agency. Even there the conversation still left her raw enough to snap at Caroline for failing to find a file quickly enough. She went upstairs to her office. It was stuffy and close, so she opened a window and turned on the fan before sitting down to work.

The breeze from the fan stroked her face as she called up the Parker Trust file. But the concentration wouldn’t come. She found herself either staring out of the window or doodling on her notepad while the laptop’s curser blinked, waiting.

When the phone rang, she answered it, irritatedly. It was Lucy. “Sorry,” she said. “I shouldn’t have had a go at you.”

Kate’s sense of umbrage lingered a moment longer, then collapsed. “It’s okay. I was a bit touchy myself.”

“Fancy coming round for dinner some time this week? We can have a proper talk then. And I promise I won’t let Jack anywhere near the kitchen.”

Smiling, Kate accepted, glad the near-argument had been patched up before it could begin to fester. But Lucy’s words stayed with her, pricking at her thoughts like a splinter. Am I doing the right thing?

There was a commotion from downstairs. Kate hoped a drunk hadn’t wandered in. It sometimes happened. She pushed herself back from her desk, and as she did so the raised voices were drowned by sudden thuds and bangs.

There was a scream, and then Kate was out of her office and running downstairs.

The door at the bottom of the stairs opened before she reached it and Caroline ran out. From behind her it sounded as though the office was being wrecked.

“They’re fighting! They’re fighting!” Caroline yelled, wide-eyed.

Kate pushed past her. Josefina was at the other side of the office, white-faced. A desk was tipped on its side. Chairs were scattered, and in the middle of the room two figures wrestled. One was Clive. The other was Paul.

“Stop it!” she shouted. They took no notice. Clive flicked her a quick glance, and then grunted as they slammed into a filing cabinet. It rocked, almost falling. Kate ran down to the basement kitchen. A heavy red fire-extinguisher was clipped to the wall. She tugged it free and staggered back upstairs with it. There was another crash from the office.

The two men had fallen onto a second desk, still clutching each other. Hugging the extinguisher under one arm, she pointed the nozzle at them and set it going. A jet of water shot out, and Kate moved nearer, directing it into their faces. They spluttered, shielding their eyes, but Kate kept it on them until they broke apart.

“Get away from him, Clive!” she ordered, still keeping the spray on them. Clive hesitated. “I said get away! Now!”

Reluctantly, Clive moved back. Kate struggled to turn the extinguisher off. The water finally died to a dribble, then stopped. She glared at where Paul and Clive stood, both panting, water plastering their shirts to their chests and dripping off their faces. Around them, the office was in turmoil. At least one chair was broken, and a leg had snapped off the desk they had overturned. Kate glared at them. “What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing?”

She was shaking, not from fear but with an incandescent anger.

Paul wiped water from his face. One cheek was swollen. He pointed at Clive, sullenly. “I came to see you, and this prick wouldn’t let me!”

“He came in drunk and tried to barge upstairs,” Clive snapped, staring at him. Paul turned towards him again, and before they could restart the fight Kate moved between them.

“Get over there, Clive. Go on.”

Still glowering at the other man, Clive moved across to the other side of the office, where Josefina and Caroline, who had ventured back in, huddled. Kate confronted Paul. “Well, I’m here! What do you want?”

He seemed deflated by her aggression. It took him a moment to pump up his anger enough to answer. “I came to give you some good news!” he said, face twisting. “I’ve been fired! Satisfied, now, are you?”

Kate felt a pang of sympathy. And guilt, she admitted. She stamped down on both. “I’m sorry you’ve lost your job, Paul. But it’s nothing to do with me.”

“No?”

He gave a bitter laugh. “I bet you’re heartbroken, though, aren’t you, you backstabbing bitch?”

Clive started forward. She shot him a look, stopping him, and turned back to face Paul. Her anger had burned down to a weary impatience. “I’m going to put this as simply as I can,” she said, trying to speak levelly. “I’m not interested in you, your job, or your problems. You got yourself fired because you’re a self-pitying drunk who always has to blame someone else. I don’t want to see you again, I don’t want to hear from you again, and I don’t want to talk to you again. Now get out of my office before I call the police.”

Paul blinked. He glanced around, and for the first time seemed to notice that other people were watching. He looked bewildered, as though he didn’t understand how he came to be there. Then he drew himself up and stared at her. “You wait. You just wait.”

He nodded to himself as he went to the door. “You just fucking wait.”

He went out, slamming the door. It bounced back on its hinges and swung open again. Kate watched, half expecting him to reappear, but he didn’t. She could feel herself beginning to tremble as reaction set in. She looked around the wreckage of the office and felt a lump form in her throat.

“I’m sorry, Kate. It all got a bit out of hand.”

Clive looked shame-faced. He was still soaking wet. Kate saw that his lip was bleeding.

“Are you okay?”

she asked.

He touched his hand to his mouth and gave a weak grin. “I think so. Been a long time since I’ve been in a scrap.”

“It wasn’t Clive’s fault,” Caroline said, coming forward. “He just tried to stop him when he started going upstairs. Clive didn’t start it.”

Kate nodded and managed to give Clive a smile. “No, I know. But in future — “

The window behind her shattered. She ducked as broken glass struck the back of her head and shoulders, and glimpsed something flying past. She looked up in time to see Clive race to the door and tear it open.

“No, Clive! Clive!” she shouted. He stopped, poised on the doorstep. “Let him go.”

Clive hesitated, then closed the door. Glass crunched under his feet. Kate looked at the window. The vertical blind was hanging half off. Where the name of the company had been stencilled on the glass, now there was only a jagged hole.

There was a moan. Kate turned around and saw Josefina clutching her arm, her face screwed up in pain. Caroline was supporting her, looking if anything even more stricken.

“She got hit by that,” she said, nodding at a half housebrick on the floor.

Kate went over. The Spanish girl slowly removed her hand to reveal a bloody gash on her forearm. Josefina sucked in air with a hiss and sat down.

“It only just missed your head,” Clive said, giving Kate a grim look. The back of her neck prickled as she remembered how close the sharp-cornered housebrick had come. She pushed the thought aside.

“Get the first aid box, will you?”

she told him. “I’ll phone the police.”

Kate cleared up the wreckage of the office by herself after the police had taken their statements and left. Clive had gone to the hospital with Josefina, and she had sent Caroline home early. The girl was too shaken to be of any use, and Kate didn’t really want any help anyway. Setting the office to rights was a sort of penance for letting her private life spill over into business.

It took longer than she’d expected, though, and by the time she arrived at her flat that evening she felt exhausted.

She poured herself a glass of wine and put some pasta on to boil, before remembering that she’d told Miss Willoughby she would visit her.

Kate looked at her watch. She could still make it before visiting time ended, and she knew the old lady would be expecting her. But the thought of turning out again was too much. With the relief from making the decision only slightly tinged with guilt, she phoned the hospital and was put through to the ward sister.

“I was supposed to be visiting Miss Willoughby tonight,” Kate told her. “Can you give her my apologies and tell her I’ll see her tomorrow instead?”

The sister hesitated. “Are you a relative?”

“No, just her neighbour.”

She guessed from the sister’s tone, but still asked, “Is everything all right?”

“I’m afraid Miss Willoughby died last night.”

Kate felt no real surprise, only a tired sadness. “What happened?”

“It was heart failure. It was very quick. There’s always a risk at that age, and after the sort of shock she’d had …” The sister didn’t bother to finish. “Actually, I’m glad you’ve called,” she went on, bad news delivered. “She put down her solicitor as next of kin, but we’re not sure what to do with her personal effects. Do you know if she had any friends or relatives?”

“No,” Kate said. “No, she didn’t have anybody.”