Dead Man's Time

say?’ Grace asked.
    ‘Well, not much at all really, sir. It just says, “
Sorry
”.’

125
    ‘Turns out the thirteenth was an unlucky day for Carl Venner!’ Roy Grace said. Lounging on a sofa in Cleo’s house, he raised his celebratory vodka martini at
Marlon. ‘What do you think of that, eh?’ he said to the goldfish.
    Marlon reacted the same way he reacted to everything else in life: by circling his bowl, opening and shutting his mouth.
    ‘That’s such fantastic news, darling!’ Cleo, seated beside him, set down her laptop and the one small glass of white wine she had allowed herself, kissed him on the cheek and
gave him a hug. Noah, lying on his mat on the floor, gurgled happily. Humphrey, asleep in his favourite place – the sofa opposite – did not stir; he appeared to be recovering, slowly,
from his ordeal.
    ‘He’s got life, with a minimum tariff of eighteen years.’
    ‘You must be so pleased,’ she said.
    ‘And bloody relieved!’
    ‘What a week it’s been for you!’
    ‘I’ve had worse.’ He smiled and kissed her back, and ran his finger through the delicate Tiffany chain he’d bought her in New York, before heading off to catch his
plane.
    It was good to be home on a Saturday night again, and this was the first real chance he’d had to celebrate the Venner result with Cleo. Good to be with the two people he loved most in the
world. But with one dark shadow hanging over them, the thought of Amis Smallbone and what might have happened had he not fallen – or been pushed. If it was Krasniki who had pushed him, then a
part of him secretly hoped that he might stay free. He deserved that for saving Cleo, or Noah, or both of them.
    Cleo picked up her laptop again and showed him a baby outfit with stripes on it. ‘Isn’t that so cute?’ she said. ‘It’s on this website, Zulily. Don’t you
think Noah would look so cute in this?’
    ‘It would make him look like a convict!’ he replied.
    She puckered her face in disappointment. ‘No, it wouldn’t!’
    He continued to look at the estate agent’s plans for the house Cleo had fallen in love with, which they were going to see in the morning. But there was a shadow over that, too. He’d
had the news in the morning’s post that the mystery buyer in Germany of his house had suddenly, and without any explanation, pulled out. They had been relying on his sale, together with
Cleo’s, to fund the purchase of the new place.
    ‘Darling, do you think there’s any point in going tomorrow?’ he said.
    Cleo smiled and nodded vigorously. ‘I was going to tell you this evening my bit of good news. Well, ours, really. Mummy and Daddy have offered to lend us the money for the
deposit!’
    He looked at her. ‘Really?’
    ‘Yes – when you eventually sell your house, then we can pay them back.’
    He sipped some more of his martini, closed his eyes for a moment, sinking back into the deep, soft cushions. ‘That’s incredibly kind of them.’
    ‘They like you,’ she said. ‘I don’t understand why, but they do!’ She gave him a cheeky grin. ‘A bit the same with me, really!’
    ‘I’ve been thinking – you know – we were going to get married this year, and then stuff happened and it got put off. Shall we set a date – and just do
it?’
    ‘Yes, my darling. Let’s make it soon. Like – very soon?’
    They kissed again.
    Noah was making excited noises on the floor.
    ‘Your turn,’ she said.
    He put his glass down, knelt, lifted his son in the air, then sat back down, cradling him in his arms.
    ‘Have you seen Lucas Daly’s wife, Sarah Courteney?’ Cleo asked suddenly. ‘This must be a nightmare for her.’
    ‘Can’t be much fun for her at the moment, having SOCO crawling all over her home.’
    ‘But I saw her on the news last night, looking as cheery as ever. She’s obviously hiding it well.’
    ‘She’s a tough cookie,’ he replied. ‘She’s a survivor.’ Then he turned his attention to his son. ‘Hey, little fellow, have you got something in that
nappy for me?’
    The rising stench confirmed that Noah had indeed, and he looked very proud of the fact.

126
    She sat back, luxuriating in the comfort of her Business Class seat, and enjoying her second glass of champagne.
    The cheery young British Airways cabin steward came by with the bottle to top her up. As he did so, he noticed her Cartier.
    ‘Nice watch!’ he said, admiringly.
    ‘Thank you!’ she replied, and held it up for him to inspect