Page 73 of A Perfect Devon Pub
Then, as if by magic, her fingers brushed against something cool and metallic. She pulled a key out from beneath a pile of invoices, the weight seeming far too significant for such a small object.
Her father’s eyes gleamed. ‘Eureka.’
The key slid smoothly into the desk’s lock, and with a soft click, she opened the flap. She dived in with gusto. Papers rustled under her fumbling fingertips as she discarded receipts, half torn menus, stray paperclips, dozens of biros – so that’s where all Rose’s pens had ended up! And then she saw it, between two old notebooks ... a crumpled list in George’s handwriting. Names of betting apps, odds calculations, all jotted down in a frenzy, as if scrambling to balance the books.
She recalled the many times she had seen George glued to his screen. Fiona had always assumed it was work related, neverimagining the darker truth. As she stared at the list, a wave of empathy washed over her, and for a moment, the triumph of securing the evidence to prove her innocence faltered.
Yes, George had been wrong to frame her, just as Kim had been, but she couldn’t ignore the sadness in her chest. He wasn’t a villain; he was a man trapped in an addiction, and for all his faults, she couldn’t help but feel sorry for him.
With the list safely in her pocket, they moved through the darkened flat heading for the door. But just as Fiona reached for the handle, the door opened a fraction. She froze.
‘Not now,’ she whispered, her pulse racing.
Clutching onto her father, images of an astonished Rose popping back to the flat flashing through her mind, Fiona watched the door, her eyes glued there like the last few stubborn leaves of autumn refusing to let go of a tree. The thought of explaining this break-in terrified her, as did the potential consequences for her father’s career. She held her breath, straining her ears for sounds from outside, but she couldn’t hear anything.
‘I don’t think it’s a person,’ whispered her father. He crept forward and nudged the door with his foot. It swung open, revealing an empty corridor, and she guessed a gust of air had been driven up the staircase by someone using the back door. But her father’s analytical brain was one step ahead. ‘Careful,’ he warned. ‘Whoever it was might be about to come back inside.’
Fiona crept down the stairs, then flattened herself against the wall, peeking round the corner to study their escape route.
At reception, Rose was chatting with a man in a suit. With her heart in her throat, Fiona listened to their muffled conversation, willing them both to hurry up and leave. Then she noticed a third person. Kim. Her would-be rival turned, her eyes meeting Fiona’s; she felt her mouth open into an astonished ‘o’ and had the sensation of falling into a deep pit. Kim would relishexposing her.
‘All clear?’ whispered her father.
Fiona closed her eyes and bit her lip, shaking her head. ‘No,’ she whispered. With every second that passed she expected Kim to reveal what she could see. Beside her, Fiona’s father stiffened, then she felt a reassuring hand grip her arm. After what seemed an eternity (or perhaps less than sixty seconds), Fiona opened her eyes. Kim was still there, looking up at Fiona, but the other woman’s eyes weren’t blazing with the self-indignation of spotting a thief, they were calm, almost vulnerable, and this time she had a finger pressed against her lip, miming for Fiona to keep quiet.
Fiona exhaled as quietly as she could, watching as Kim and Rose ushered the man through reception. She seized the opportunity.
‘Let’s go,’ she hissed, rushing forward, yanking open the door and slipping outside to the safety of the harbour wall. When her father joined her, she turned, a quiet urgency in her voice. ‘You need to go back. Mum will be worried.’ Her father hesitated, concern flickering in his eyes, but Fiona gave him a determined look. ‘Ru will take over from here. It’s time.’
Her father nodded and started back up the hill.
Fiona peeked in through the kitchen window. The bright lights assaulted her eyes, making her blink. From her vantage point, she could see George and Ru, but not Josh. George, his brow furrowed in concentration, was wiping down the counters. Ru, with an almost unsettling calmness, was chopping vegetables and adding them to a saucepan. She guessed he was preparing a bone broth to simmer overnight, finding an excuse to be there until Josh left, clearing the way for them to confront George. She heard someone whistlingSweet Carolineand assumed it was Josh loading a dishwasher out of sight.
Fiona slunk back down, pressing herself into the shadowsbeside the kitchen window, listening to the pub’s weathered sign creaking in the night air. She hugged the woollen jumper tightly around her shoulders, feeling the coarse fibres oddly comforting against her skin – she must be alert for Josh leaving. Fiona edged back slightly, her fingers brushing against the cold, damp stone wall, listening to Josh whistling. It might be a long wait.
The back door swung open, letting out a shaft of light. Then Kim stepped outside, resplendent in a new navy wool coat. Her eyes darted toward the shadows.
‘Fiona?’ whispered Kim, her voice catching on the wind.
She emerged slowly, her movements deliberate but not threatening. ‘I know what you did, Kim.’
Kim’s composure cracked. A sob escaped her, raw and primeval. ‘I’m so sorry.’
Fiona stepped forward and placed a hand on Kim’s shoulder. The touch was light, almost tender. ‘I also knowwhyyou did it. Don’t dwell on this. I forgive you.’
Part of Fiona wanted to snatch back her words, to hold on to her anger and bitterness, but she suddenly felt lighter. Kim was a frightened woman. She hadn’t set out to destroy Fiona’s life – Fiona had nearly achieved that herself, months ago, when she’d rejected Ru’s proposal.
The headlights of a car illuminated the empty terrace, curling round the carpark then stopping yards away from where the former rivals now stood.
‘That’s Daddy come to collect me.’
‘Go on, get off home.’ said Fiona.
Kim hesitated, ‘Can I help? Is there anything I can do?’
‘No. But thank you.’ said Fiona. And she meant those words.
Kim climbed into the car, and Fiona watched it drive up the hill, before walking back to the wall to recommence her vigil.
