weâre paying the removal people enough. Let them deal with everything, not just the furniture. If you could just scout around on the Internet for a hotel . . . A week, I suppose, to allow time for Mr Smith to get his cable and install it. And we must make damned sure we label the stuff we need,â Fran said.
âOK. Iâll get busy labelling while you microwave our feast.â
âExcellent. If weâre good, we can treat ourselves and take a look in tomorrow morning. Both of us. Thatâll scare Kim. Iâve held you up as a monster of official miserliness, by the way. So donât worry if she hexes you and backs swiftly into the excavations.â
âWhat the hell? You donât get traffic jams in the country! Especially not at seven thirty in the morning!â Mark beat the steering wheel in exasperation.
âFarm plant â you know, those mega-tractors or combines or whatever. Or maybe even a Bulgarian driver with an insistent satnav. Look, thereâs a gate. Why not turn there? Weâll get off work early tonight â by which I mean while itâs still light â and come and see the house then instead.â
âNope. Farewell drinkies with the neighbours, remember?â
She squeezed his hand affectionately. âNever mind, Iâll contrive an official visit here during the course of the day and update you. No, thatâs not good enough, is it? You want to hug it yourself. Well, youâll have to ask yourself for half an hourâs lunch break.â When he didnât laugh, she looked at him harder. âOK, whatâs up?â Hell, heâd not got round to checking hotels, had he? And he didnât want to confess.
He completed his manoeuvre carefully and set the car in motion before replying: âSammie.â
She managed to stop herself screaming. âAh. The letter. What did she say?â And why had he kept quiet for twenty-four hours?
âNothing. Nothing that I know about. Iâd have said, wouldnât I? Yes, I would, Fran â I know I tried to keep you at armâs length, but not now. I need your savvy, apart from anything else.â
âWhat savvy?â
âThe bit that got me on to Ms Rottweiler. Maybe I should phone her later â assuming I have time.â
âThatâs one hell of an assumption, sweetheart.â As was the assumption heâd have the will to do it. But she didnât want him to see how anxious she was getting â not just about somewhere to lay their heads, but about him and his inertia. âSee â my phoneâs active already. Hell. Iâd forgotten that disciplinary panel Iâm supposed to be chairing. Thank God we got stuck in traffic â I like excuses with the foundation of truth.â
Released from a bleak committee room four hours after going in, Fran wanted to cry with frustration. In her youth, when sheâd made stupid mistakes, sheâd stood to attention in front of her sergeant â at worst, her inspector â and ridden out the bollocking. Occasionally, sheâd have muttered an apology in the hopes of stopping the tirade, but it was only when the guvânor was ready that sheâd been sent out with a flea in her ear. And sheâd done the same in her turn. Now it was all official and minuted and â God, she hated the whole time-consuming, paper-generating farce.
Not to mention the fact sheâd missed the skeletonâs autopsy and had to respond to the load of calls that had stacked up during her meeting. People who knew her made a point of leaving only brief messages, so she wasnât surprised when Kimâs voice snapped, âPhone me urgently.â Belatedly, sheâd added, âPlease, maâam.â
She was, however, a little surprised to find a text saying much the same thing; she wasnât used to getting reminders. But then Kim was a newcomer to her team, so perhaps she should forgive her.