Free Cherringham--Snowblind by Neil Richards Page B

what is it called?”
    “Quality Care Commission.”
    “Right. Maybe they know how to do their job.”
    “So let it go, hmm?”
    “Think so.”
    “Sure. Maybe see you at the weekend if it clears, yeah?”
    “Be great. Come on over to the Goose, have some supper.”
    “Right. Bye Jack.”
    “See you …”
    Jack put his phone away and climbed into the little Sprite. His breath misted the windshield and he wiped it with his gloved hand.
    Come on spring, he thought as he started the engine and drove away down the elegant drive.

13. A Chat in the Church
    Sarah tried to focus on work. If Jack thought that there was nothing they could do, no crime committed, he was probably right.
    And yet — as she stared at the big screen in front of her, the layout for the Cherringham Children’s Summer Play Scheme in progress — she couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something wrong with all of it.
    Archy dying in the blizzard, Reg wandering about, Nurse Woods about as defensive as they come.
    Could Jack be wrong?
    Whatever — now distracted, she certainly wasn’t doing her best work.
    The office phone rang, and Grace picked it up with a cheery “hello”.
    Sarah kept moving images around: a child smiling in swimming trunks, swings in motion, toddlers on a field attempting to kick a football.
    “Right,” Grace said. “Yes, she’s here. And who shall I—?”
    Sarah turned. Call obviously for her, someone who did not have her mobile.
    “Okay, I can check — please hold a moment.”
    Grace hit a button on the desk phone.
    “Sarah, someone for you. A woman, bit of an accent. Says she needs to speak to you?”
    “Who is it?”
    “That’s the thing. She won’t say. Just wants to talk.”
    “Hope they don’t want me to refinance my home, or buy a time share. I’ll take it here.”
    Sarah hit the blinking button on her own desk phone.
    She recognised the voice immediately.
    Ania.
    And even on the phone, Sarah could feel the nurse’s fear, the voice halting, a near-whisper.
    “Sarah — I have things to tell you.”
    Just when she and Jack thought it was all over.
    This detective thing could be pretty amazing.
    “ Yes, Ania — what is it?”
    “No. I can’t, not now, not over the phone.”
    “Okay,”
    She saw Grace looking over, a quizzical look on her face.
    “Um. How about we meet at the Ploughman’s, or Huffington’s—”
    The “no” came fast.
    “It must be someplace where we can be alone.”
    Sarah knew that with the snowdrifts outside, a walk in the park wouldn’t be an option.
    “You could come to my office, it’s just—”
    Another quick no.
    “Anybody might see . You’re right in the village square.”
    And at that moment, Sarah felt some of Ania’s fear. For the woman to be that nervous, that scared … maybe there were things for Sarah to be scared of as well.
    So she thought of where they might meet, where they would in all likelihood not be seen.
    She only came up with one candidate.
    “Ania — how about in the church, a pew at the back? Should be empty this time of day.”
    The woman hesitated.
    Then: “Yes. I can meet you there. When?”
    Sarah looked at Grace. “You okay holding down things here?”
    “Sure.”
    Back to Ania: “In ten minutes?”
    The woman on the other end of the line took a deep breath.
    “Yes. I will see you there.”
    “Bye,” Sarah said.
    She put the phone down and got up from her desk and the now jumbled images of kids in summer.
    Summer.
    Cannot come soon enough, she thought.
    ‘Everything okay?” Grace said.
    Her assistant had been so great about not asking questions when she and Jack got ‘into’ things. Most people would be dying of curiosity — Grace was just supportive, and waited …
    And when it was all over, Sarah would tell her all about it.
    “Be gone for a bit. Not too sure how—”
    “No worries. You okay, Sarah?”
    Interesting.
    That thought hadn’t occurred to her, about any possibility of danger.
    ‘I … think so. Got