My Lies, Your Lies

CHAPTER THREE

Now here was someone Joely would never have any trouble calling a friend. Standing at the station entrance searching the crowd as travellers streamed by, and looking every bit as gorgeous as Joely remembered her, was Andee Lawrence. Never mind that they hadn’t clapped eyes on each other for the best part of ten years, or that being opposite ends of the country meant they hadn’t been there for one another during many of the most critical times in their lives, the point was they’d never lost touch and Joely couldn’t imagine they ever would.

Smiling as though there wasn’t even the trace of an ache in her heart, she dropped her bags and walked straight into Andee’s embrace. God it was good to see her, better even than she’d expected.

‘You look amazing,’ they said in unison, and laughed and tried again, ‘It’s so good to see you.’

Reminded of how they’d often said the same things at the same time, they hugged again, delighting in the enjoyment of years melting away to free up the many memories along with the easy rapport that had brought them together in the first place.

‘I can’t tell you how happy I was when you said you were coming,’ Andee told her, grabbing the larger of Joely’s two bags. She was taller than Joely by a good two inches and everything about her was as effortless and captivating as it was calming. ‘You should be bottled and sold,’ Joely used to tell her back in the day when Andee had been a detective constable with the Met and Joely was making a name for herself as a crime reporter on a respectable paper. Police and print media didn’t usually work well together, and nor had Joely and Andee at the beginning, but it was during a harrowing search for a missing toddler that they’d found their instincts chiming in a way that not only led them into confiding in each other, but had resulted in the arrest of the abductor. Afterwards, they’d become friends, often meeting for drinks at the end of hard days, and frequently passing one another information to help solve a case for Andee and provide an exclusive for Joely.

‘The car’s out the back,’ Andee told her, pointing the way, ‘so not far. Are you OK? Did the journey seem endless?’

With an arched eyebrow, Joely said, ‘I managed to entertain myself and luckily they have lock-down on trains now, so no chance of hurling myself out of the window.’

Andee slanted her a look.

Joely slanted one back. ‘Joking,’ she assured her, and was abruptly almost blown off her feet by a savage gust as she stepped out of the station.

‘So do I get to meet Graeme while I’m here?’ she shouted through the hair plastered to her mouth, referring to Andee’s live-in partner.

‘Later,’ Andee shouted back, catching her scarf as it tried transforming itself into a noose. ‘He’s looking forward to meeting you, having heard so much about you.’

Grimacing, Joely decided not to ask for any detail on that in case it covered her personal chaos, and after hefting her small bag into the boot of Andee’s car she practically hurled herself into the safety and calm of the passenger seat. ‘Nice weather you’re having,’ she commented as Andee got in next to her.

Andee laughed and started the engine. ‘We ordered it in specially,’ she replied, ‘it was either that or a marching band.’

Loving how similar their humour was, Joely fastened her seat belt and settled into the luxurious leather surroundings as Andee drove them out of the car park.

‘I can’t believe this is your first time in Kesterly,’ Andee declared, ‘I know I’ve invited you …’

‘And I’ve always intended to come,’ Joely broke in hastily, ‘but you know what life’s like, it gets in the way and before you know it we’re in our forties, our marriages have broken up and our children have left home. Or have yours done the boomerang thing?’

Andee slowed to a stop at a traffic light and waved to someone she knew. ‘Luke’s in Africa saving endangered species,’ she answered, referring to her son, ‘and Alayna’s landed a job with the Royal Court in London, although it’s getting off to a tricky start. Can you believe they’re twenty-four and twenty-two already?’

Marvelling at how fast time had flown them through the years, Joely said, ‘That’s what you get for having them so young.’ She recalled the teenagers she used to know, great kids, easy-going, uncomplicated, loving towards their mother – or certainly they had been then. ‘It’s good to hear they’re doing so well,’ she said, meaning it. She hadn’t forgotten how hard it had been for them, Andee too, when their father had taken off to go and pursue the call of a midlife crisis. It was the abandonment that had persuaded Andee to leave London and join Kesterly CID so her parents, and Martin’s, who all lived locally, could help out with the children.

‘So no longer a detective?’ she commented, turning to watch a homeless woman trying to keep hold of her junk-filled pram.

Andee inched the car forward and let out a groan as the lights returned to red before they could get through. ‘I’m not sure I was ever really cut out for it,’ she admitted, frankly, ‘and then one day I ran into a child murder too many. It affected me badly, they always did, but it got worse with each one, so in the end I decided for the sake of my sanity, and my family, I needed to change my life.’

Having no trouble understanding that, Joely regarded her fondly as she said, ‘So do you miss it?’

‘Not as much as I expected to, although in some ways you might think I’d never given it up, because I keep getting involved in cases, locally, that the police don’t have the resources for.’ She smiled and grimaced. ‘My children think I should set up as a private investigator, but I don’t see myself doing that. I’m quite happy working as an interior designer, which is mostly what I do now, and using my contacts to help those who can’t help themselves when they need it.’

Joely smiled. ‘You always were a thoroughly good person,’ she told her.

Andee laughed. ‘Glad to know the illusion is working. Now tell me about you and—’

‘Hang on, I haven’t finished. I want to know what happened when Martin got over himself and came back. You told me in an email a while ago that you’d married him, but you’re not with him now so I guess he flunked his second chance?’

Andee’s smile was wry. ‘I’m not sure I’d put it like that. He really wanted to make it work, and I guess I did too, but I’m afraid marrying him turned out to be a mistake. I’d already met Graeme by then and although I ended it between us when Martin asked me to give things another go for the children’s sake, the feelings for Graeme didn’t go away. So we came to a point when I had to tell Martin I was sorry, that I’d always love him just not in the way he wanted me to.’

Flinching, Joely imagined Callum saying the same to her. He hadn’t in so many words, but from the way he was behaving he might as well have. ‘So how did he take it?’ she asked. ‘I can’t help remembering how gorgeous he was … A shit, obviously, for doing what he did, but I’m guessing he wasn’t used to being dumped. I bet it hit him hard.’

Andee didn’t deny it.

Unable to resist feeling sorry for him, Joely said, ‘It sounds like you’re still in touch.’

‘We are. In fact, we’re quite good friends, and he and Graeme often work together. You know Graeme’s into property development, and Martin’s taken over his father’s construction business. Actually,’ she said brightening as they finally cleared the lights to head out onto the Promenade, ‘he met someone lovely about six months ago and I think it could be serious.’

Joely gave a groan. ‘Why doesn’t that cheer me up?’ she grumbled. ‘I should be happy for him, for everyone who’s happy, but I find it only gets on my nerves.’

Andee cast her a glance and they both laughed.

Sighing, Joely gazed out at the bare trees lining the boulevard and the dismal spread of the sea beyond. ‘God it’s horrible, isn’t it?’ she murmured, quickly adding, ‘I mean being dumped, not this lovely seaside town that clearly has so much going for it.’

Andee’s eyes shone with humour. ‘You’re not seeing it at its best,’ she responded, ‘but I doubt it would ever be top of anyone’s list for a romantic getaway or dream vacation.’

‘But you like it here?’

Andee nodded. ‘I’m used to it; Graeme’s here, so’s my mother – my father died, did I tell you that?’

‘You did and I sent a card, but I don’t expect you to remember. It was a difficult time for you all.’

‘Actually, I do remember, and you’re right about how hard it was. And now you’re going through it. How are you coping?’

Joely swallowed. ‘I could lie and say fine, but I still miss him all the time. It’s hard to believe more than a year has gone by since Dad went; sometimes it only feels like days. I kind of lost the plot for a while, I got angry and confused and frightened … I did things …’ She stopped, took a breath and pressed on. ‘It was like I was back to being a child. I even seemed to forget how hard it was for Mum and Jamie.’

‘I think we all become a bit insular when we lose someone we love. How are your mum and Jamie now?’

‘They don’t seem too bad, considering how devastated they were at the time. I know Mum hides it a lot, but it hasn’t stopped her from getting back out there. She plays tennis three times a week, runs most mornings, regularly comes to the gym and yoga with me. She also has a job selling houses and a social life that puts mine to shame. No men. She says she’s not interested in meeting anyone else, but I guess we’ll see.’

‘If she’s still as gorgeous as I remember, I can’t imagine she’ll be on her own for long.’

Joely smiled. ‘She takes good care of herself, it’s true, and she still looks at least fifteen years younger than she is. How about your mum? How’s she these days?’

Andee sighed. ‘Not too bad. She’s had a few health issues lately, but she’s in Majorca with Martin’s mother at the moment, otherwise I know she’d love to see you.’

Joely looked around at the wider and clearly wealthier streets they were passing through. ‘I’m guessing this is Kesterly’s answer to Holland Park or Knightsbridge,’ she commented drily.

Andee laughed. ‘It has a long way to go before it can boast that sort of status,’ she replied. ‘It’s called the Garden District, and along here,’ she added taking another left turn, ‘is where you’re going to be staying.’

Joely gazed admiringly – and sadly – at the elegant Regency houses they were passing, tall and white with smartly painted front doors and grandiose eaves. They weren’t so dissimilar to her own house, the one she and Callum had bought and renovated during the years before Holly was born – and ever since. They were always doing something to it. She wondered about the people living here, behind those benign and beautiful facades, and hoped that none of them was feeling as wretched at the core as she was.

‘Here we are,’ Andee declared, pulling into a resident’s bay outside the final house. It was double-fronted, with a black front door between tall sash windows and a private garage to the left that separated it from the elaborate entrance to the Botanical Gardens.

Inside, the house turned out to be every bit as welcoming and tastefully decorated as Joely had expected, given Andee’s new career, and she couldn’t help but feel a little prideful when she discovered that she’d chosen the same wallpaper for her kitchen in Notting Hill as Andee had for hers here in Kesterly. The only difference was the colour – hers being teal green, Andee’s a silvery blue.

‘This is a beautiful room,’ she declared, looking across the large centre island to three sets of double doors in the back wall that opened out to a small courtyard garden. ‘Did you knock it through like this to include a sitting room, or was it already done when you moved in?’

‘We did it last year,’ Andee replied, signalling for Joely to take off her coat. ‘We spend so much time in the kitchen that we decided to make it more comfortable. Now, if you go and sit by the fire – it looks like it’s still going – I’ll make some tea, or would you rather see your room first and freshen up a bit?’

‘What I’d really love,’ Joely confessed, sinking into a sumptuous raw silk sofa beside the hearth, ‘is a great big glass of wine.’ She pulled a face. ‘Is it too early?’

Andee’s eyes sparkled. ‘Red or white?’

‘Whatever’s open.’

After hanging the coats in a hall cupboard, Andee took a bottle of French Merlot from a well-stocked rack, uncorked it and filled two glasses.

‘Heaven,’ Joely declared, taking a first sip and feeling the wine’s warmth and flavours running through her like liquid comfort. She looked up and finding Andee watching her a surge of emotion threatened to overwhelm her. ‘God it’s good to see you,’ she said, ‘I think I feel better already.’

Andee smiled. ‘It’s good to see you too.’ Putting her glass on the coffee table, she threw more logs onto the fire and folded her long legs under her as she settled into the opposite sofa. ‘So where do you want to start?’ she asked gently.

Joely’s eyes widened, feigning surprise, but then they wandered to the flames as she shook her head. ‘Not with them,’ she replied, trying not to see Callum and Martha in her mind’s eye. ‘I told you the worst of it on the phone, and going over it won’t change anything. I’m so glad to be away for a while. Except it travels with you, that sort of thing, doesn’t it? I guess it’s just good to know that he won’t be dropping in whenever he feels like it.’

‘Does he do that a lot?’

‘Less now – and goddamn him, I’m starting to miss it.’ She sighed and took another sip of wine. ‘He came yesterday, actually. I told him I’m going to change the locks and I think I should.’

Andee sat quietly watching her, and Joely felt her cheeks start to glow in the warmth of the fire. She couldn’t put into words how much she missed Callum, how wrong this break-up felt, but she was sure being left never felt right for the person it had happened to. And it would serve no purpose to talk about it, other than to keep him there in her mind, and what was the good of that?

In the end, clearly picking up on Joely’s thoughts, Andee steered them away from the subject, and said, ‘You asked if I miss being a detective. Now it’s my turn to ask if you miss being a journalist?’

Joely’s eyebrows arched as she looked down at her wine. Everything always came back to Callum, for he’d been a journalist too. Still was, in fact, although he was the co-owner these days of a highly regarded independent production company. However, he’d been a reporter once, on a paper, like her. ‘Not really,’ she replied, mentally shaking herself. ‘The job changed and not in good ways. Everything happens online now, almost no human interaction, and the paper’s new owner is much more interested in snappy celebrity chitchat or scandal than in-depth investigative reports.’ She smiled wryly. ‘I’m not into soaps, I’m afraid, and as for delving about in social media looking for stories … It wasn’t what I wanted to do.’

‘So you became a ghostwriter and you already have quite a few successes under your belt. Sportsmen, a celebrity cook, a national treasure, and now this intriguing new project.’

Enjoying the prompt, Joely stretched out her legs and let her head sink against the side wing of the sofa. It was so cosy here, felt so like home that she already wished she was staying longer. ‘And now you’re going to ask me who it is,’ she smiled.

Andee waited, her eyes filled with teasing expectation.

Joely said, ‘Please tell me you’ve heard of F.M. Donahoe.’

Andee looked impressed. ‘The writer? I have to admit I haven’t read much of his work, but there was a TV adaptation of one, wasn’t there? I remember finding that, dare I say easier than the book?’

Joely had to laugh. ‘I agree, the books are definitely cultist – and actually he’s a she, but don’t worry I wasn’t sure myself until her publisher called to sound me out about the job.’ She took another sip of wine. ‘Turns out her name is Freda, she’s a very private person and she lives just outside of Lynton and Lynmouth, so not a million miles from here. It’s actually one of the reasons I took the job, knowing it would give me the chance to see you, but I have to confess I’m curious to find out why Ms Donahoe wants a ghostwriter, given that she’s never used one before. It could be what she’s really after is some help with research. We’ll see.’

‘So is it another novel? A biography, maybe?’

‘Her publisher, Sully – Sullivan Thorpe – says she wants to write a memoir focusing on a certain period of her life. I don’t know any more than that at the moment, although it seems her aim is to right a wrong, set the record straight, reveal the truth about something that happened when she was younger. She’s invited me to stay at the house, which, to quote Sully, is amazing – better not give him a job as an estate agent – and I’ll have the use of a car, which is why I came by train.’

‘So how long will you be there?’

‘About a month, Sully thinks, maybe longer depending on how many hours my client wants to work in a day. I’m not sure how old she is, Sully isn’t certain either, but somewhere in her sixties, possibly seventy. There’s surprisingly little about her personal life online. I had to dig pretty deep for an entry that gives her full name and confirms she’s female.’

‘Any idea why she’s so reclusive?’

‘Sully thinks it’s probably all tied up in the tragedies she’s experienced in her life – nothing about that online either, or not that I’ve found so far. However, he says I’m not to worry about her being morbid or frail or deaf or bitter or any kind of weird. He says she’s very sociable when she wants to be, quite eccentric, and she always gives the impression of enjoying having company when he goes there, so he sees no reason why it would be any different for me.’

‘Does she live alone?’

‘Yes, but she has a housekeeper who goes in most days and a handyman who keeps an eye on things and drives her if she wants to go anywhere. She offered to send him to the station to pick me up, but I said I’d find my own way there.’

Andee sat forward to top up their glasses.

‘Do you know Lynton and Lynmouth?’ Joely asked, swallowing a yawn. ‘Aren’t they twinned in some way?’

‘They’re on the coastal edge of the moor,’ Andee replied, ‘Lynton, which is more of a town, is at the top of the cliff, and Lynmouth, which has the harbour and beach, is at the bottom. There’s a funicular – a kind of Victorian railway carriage – that runs up and down the rock face to connect them. My kids used to think it was better than a fairground ride when they were small.’

Joely smiled. ‘Sounds quaint. Actually, from what I’ve read about it, the whole place sounds lovely, although I wish I was going at a different time of year. I imagine deep winter can get quite savage thrashing itself out between the sea and the moor.’

‘I won’t deny it,’ Andee replied. ‘But don’t worry, if there’s a storm, or the funicular isn’t running for some reason, there’s a road that connects the two. It’s steep and winding, and you can even walk it, but personally I’d only do it going down.’

‘And if it snows I guess the whole place gets cut off?’

‘Almost certainly, but they’re used to it and they keep up with the forecasts to make sure they have what they need.’

Joely pulled an awkward face. ‘Are you sure about driving me over? I think it’s quite a bit further than I realized, I mean across the whole of Exmoor – which is pretty wild from all I’ve read.’

Amused, Andee said, ‘There are roads these days with white lines down the middle and helpful signposts to tell you where you’re going. And truly, I don’t mind. It’ll give us more time to chat. Now, unless I’m mistaken, that sounds like Graeme coming in.’

As they got to their feet the hall door opened and a tall, distinguished-looking man with silvery, dark hair and a close-shaved beard broke into a welcoming smile as he came through. ‘You must be Joely,’ he declared, coming to take Joely’s hands in his. ‘I’ve been hearing so much about you I feel I already know you.’

Not a bit surprised that Andee’s partner was so attractive and charming, Joely treated him to a playful scowl. ‘Whatever my friend here has told you,’ she said, ‘it’s probably all true, so if you’d like me to leave now …’

Laughing, he pressed a kiss to Andee’s forehead and pointing to the wine said, ‘Is there enough for me, or shall I open another?’

Going to fetch a glass while he took off his coat, Andee passed it to Joely to fill and reached for a second bottle. ‘I thought I’d cook dinner,’ she told him as she picked up the corkscrew, ‘it’ll save us going out in this weather.’

‘Great idea,’ he agreed, circling around her to go and wash his hands at the sink. ‘Are we still vegetarian, or have we gone vegan now?’

Andee said to Joely, ‘We’re cutting back on meat, so I hope you’re OK with aubergine and sweet potato curry.’

‘Sounds scrummy,’ Joely responded, meaning it. She and Callum had given up meat altogether last spring, but she expected he was back on it now, with Martha being a carnivore.

She wondered if Holly had taken it up again too, and felt suddenly so sad that it was a moment before she realized Graeme was toasting her. She smiled and tapped her glass to his. ‘Thanks for letting me stay,’ she said. ‘You have a lovely home.’

‘Mostly thanks to Andee,’ he assured her, and gestured for her to sit down again as he took Andee’s spot opposite. ‘So the mystery assignment …’

‘It’s F.M. Donahoe,’ Andee told him, filling small plates with quails eggs and stuffed cherry tomatoes for them to snack on. ‘And in case you didn’t already know, she’s a woman.’

Graeme looked surprised. ‘I’d always assumed it was a man,’ he admitted. ‘Have you read the books?’

‘I’ve been working through the “Moths” as they’re known, these past few weeks,’ Joely replied.

Graeme frowned. ‘Moths?’

‘It’s what the literary world calls her best-known novels, because they focus on nonentities who lived, loved, worked, schemed around the great luminaries of history. Moths to candles. They’re pretty heavy going, but once you’re into them the drama and unusual slants on well-known stories can be quite gripping.’

Graeme nodded thoughtfully. ‘Have you met her yet?’

Joely shook her head. ‘To be honest, I’m slightly nervous about it, though don’t ask me why. Maybe it’s because I’ve never met a recluse before.’

Irony shone in his eyes and she laughed.

‘OK, I get that’s the point with recluses.’

‘She wants Joely’s help to pull together a memoir,’ Andee said, carrying a loaded tray to the table, ‘and we’re guessing that it might throw light on the tragedies plural,’ she glanced to Joely for confirmation and, receiving it, continued, ‘she’s experienced in her life. Whatever, she’s planning to right some sort of wrong, presumably by telling the real story of something that happened?’ Again Joely nodded, enjoying having her task outlined with more clarity than she’d managed herself so far. ‘And maybe,’ Andee said, ‘we can assume it’ll be sensational in some way, or what would be the point of it?’

As intrigued by that as if she’d not already thought of it herself, Joely said, ‘So will it involve someone famous? Or retell an event that everyone believes happened one way, but in fact there was some awful government cover-up to make it look like something else?’

Graeme said, ‘There was a disastrous flood in 1952 that devastated Lynmouth and killed over thirty people.’