The Next Girl(Detective Gina Harte #1)(11)

She shook her head, checked her phone and picked up the pace. There’s no way she could vet every passer-by in the next five minutes. The man with the woollen hat had gone, and another man wearing a huge smile, carrying a box of chocolates, walked into view from the other direction and entered the maternity ward.

She looked at her watch. Hannah was bringing Gracie, her granddaughter, over that evening for a visit. Her phone beeped as she left the hospital and her signal returned. It then rang. ‘Jacob,’ she said, as she snatched the car keys from her pocket.

‘Are you on your way back? Wyre has had a mass of calls to process.’

‘Sure am. See you in a few minutes,’ she replied, as she started the engine up and headed straight back to the station.





Seven





‘Are you sure you don’t want me to stay? I can put lunch on for you,’ Cathy called up the stairs.

Luke hung up his shirt and slipped his blue jumper over his head. He slapped a bit of aftershave on his chin and smiled at his reflection. His teeth were clean, he still had most of his fair hair and all the coffee he’d consumed earlier in the day ensured that he still looked awake. He’d made it home from the house viewing just in time to pick Max and Heidi up from Jake’s birthday party, but he needed to hurry. He glanced once more at his reflection. He had to make an effort to move on. Brooke was good for him.

‘Luke?’ she called again. He swallowed as he took the photo of Debbie from his bedside table and placed it in the top drawer.

‘Sorry, I was in a world of my own. You should get off home and have some rest. You do too much for us. There’s a box of your favourite chocolate truffles on the side,’ he said as he ran down the stairs and grabbed his coat. He checked his watch. Brooke would be knocking in several minutes. He was early, and he was staring at the door. It wasn’t like he’d never been on a date before. After all, he was thirty-eight years old. And walking to another kid’s house to collect their respective kids was hardly a date. After being friends for almost two years, he hadn’t been sure he was ready to risk it all and try for a relationship, but things had just happened. He listened as Cathy put the plates away in the kitchen.

He’d found it hard to focus that day, preoccupied with thoughts of their kiss the previous evening. They’d spent the rest of the night texting each other. Awkwardness had turned into a natural fondness. For the first time since… He looked down and ran his fingers through his hair. He couldn’t live in the past any longer.

He didn’t know what had happened or where she’d gone, but it had been four long years and Debbie hadn’t tried to contact them at all. No one had seen her and initial police investigations and appeals had come back with nothing. He flinched as his fist hit the wall and a tear escaped down his cheek. He’d spent weeks, months even, drinking in the Angel Arms, scrutinising everyone, but he’d come up with nothing but a continuous hangover. He’d watched her workplace as the men arrived and left until it had become all-consuming. Cathy had eventually pulled him out of the gutter, and she’d been there for him and the kids every day since.

Everyone told him that it was time to move on. Even Cathy, Debbie’s own mother, had encouraged him. ‘Brooke’s a nice young lady,’ she’d say. He shrugged it off every time. But he’d been lonely since Debbie’s disappearance, and while he’d never stop thinking about her, he needed to live, he needed a life. His children needed some normality back in their lives and Brooke represented that normality.

Cathy trudged into the hall, holding the chocolates in one hand and her overcoat in the other. ‘I love these but you didn’t have to. I know money’s tight and you have my lovely grandchildren to bring up. The washing-up is all put away.’

He took the coat out of her arms and held it up for her. ‘I’ve sold some expensive houses this month, Cathy. And I want you to always know that we’re grateful for everything you do. I don’t know how we’d manage without you. Thanks for everything.’

Cathy smiled as she buttoned her coat up. ‘I see you took my advice.’

‘What advice was that?’

‘Brooke. I think she’s lovely. I’m happy for you. Max and Heidi love her, and they love little Joe. Really, I’m happy for you.’

Luke scratched his neck. He felt a warm itchiness spreading over his shoulder and climbing up his face. He knew Cathy could see the redness forming. She’d always sensed his anxiety with uncanny precision. Her slightly trembling hand reached for his cheek. She stroked it as if to stroke the redness away. Her serious expression turned into a smile, and he forced a smile back. He had Cathy’s blessing, his friends all liked Brooke, his kids liked her, too – so why did he feel so guilty? He twisted his wedding ring around. He’d lost weight since Debbie’s disappearance. The ring would slip off easily. He pulled the ring up his finger and felt a lump forming in his throat. Anything he did would have to happen slowly. Whatever his future might hold, he still had a past that was hard to let go of. He didn’t want to let it go.

His years with Debbie had been the best of his life. Cathy, an older version of her daughter, was a daily reminder of what he grieved for. Her tiny nose and large hazel eyes made him think of Debbie. Her voice was slightly more hoarse than Debbie’s, but he could still hear the similarities. The way she poured tea, walked, tended to the garden and hugged the kids was so like Debbie. He pushed the ring back down. Brooke understood that things were difficult for him. They were difficult for her too. As a young woman who’d lost her husband to cancer only three years earlier, she still wore her ring. They didn’t need to explain it to each other; they just knew. They’d both been very much in love with their past partners.