‘A terrible mistake you kept on repeating, I’m reliably informed by my wife. She’s just told me it happened so frequently she can’t recall how many times the two of you betrayed Orla and me.’
Alastair levelled his gaze on Sorrel. ‘Could you not have spared him?’
‘It serves you right,’ she said, ‘for tossing me aside when you’d had your fun. One way or another, you were always going to have to pay for that. This is retribution.’
At Danny’s side, Rachel let out a small gasp, and as if suddenly remembering their presence, Sorrel said, ‘I’m sorry, Rachel and Callum, that you had to find out this way.’
‘As am I,’ said Alastair.
‘You’re not sorry!’ roared Simon, and without warning, he whipped round and slammed his fist into Alastair’s jaw, sending him sprawling to the ground. ‘Violence never solved anything,’ he said, rubbing the knuckles of his hand, ‘but it sure as hell feels the right thing to do.’
Staggering to his feet, Alastair said, ‘Go on then, hit me again if it makes you feel better, but it won’t change anything.’
Simon took him at his word and suddenly the two men were brawling like a couple of drunks, winding back their arms to land a punch, then grabbing hold of each other, grunting and groaning.
‘Stop it!’ shouted Rachel, when the two men thumped onto the ground with Alastair on top of Simon. ‘Just stop it!’
Danny was about to try and pull them apart when he heard a mobile phone ringing. He instinctively patted his pockets, but then saw Frankie reaching into hers. He could tell from her face when she listened to who was calling that something bad had happened. Something far worse than what was going on here. If that were possible.
Chapter Fifty-Nine
In numb and muted shock, with the acrid stench of smoke filling their nostrils and permeating their clothes, maybe even their skin, and the drip, drip, drip of water beating like a drum in their ears, Frankie stared around at the blackened and sodden wreckage of their beloved home.
What hadn’t gone up in flames in the blaze had been ruined by water. It was strange what had survived the flames – blackened skeletal wooden remains of armchairs, the upholstery burnt away; the two pottery jugs on the charred windowsill; the ceramic tiles and metal surround to the fireplace and companion set. Even the drenched rug beneath their feet – bought while on a long weekend to Istanbul many years ago – was only partially blackened.
It was inconceivable that anyone could have deliberately done this, that sweet-natured Danny, of all people, had been targeted so sadistically and so personally. It was a wicked and malicious violation. But thank God their neighbours had been so quick off the mark to call the fire brigade. Thank God also that Jim across the road had been looking out from an upstairs window and seen with his own eyes what the deranged woman was doing – pouring petrol and shoving lighted rags through the letterbox, and in broad daylight too.
‘It could have been a lot worse,’ Frankie said in defiance of what her heart was telling her, ‘we should at least be grateful that the fire never really had a chance to take hold and destroy the entire house.’
Danny looked at her, his eyes wretchedly glazed with shock, his face grey, his lips pale. ‘It’s my fault,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry. I’ve brought this on us.’
She slipped her hand through his, squeezed it hard, knowing that, like never before, he needed her solid reassurance. ‘This wasnotyour fault.’
‘How can you say that? If I hadn’t interfered at Woodside Suzie Wu wouldn’t have done this. It’s nothing short of a vendetta and all because I opened my mouth.’
‘A vendetta it might be, but it’s come from a dangerously twisted mind.’
Danny put his hands to his face and shook his head. ‘I keep thinking what would have happened if we’d been here … if we hadn’t been at Linston End, if that crazy woman had done this at night when we’d been asleep in bed and the fire had—’
‘No!’ said Frankie firmly. ‘You’re not to say that. We weren’t here, so let’s be thankful nobody was hurt, and that it was only the hall and the two rooms at the front of the house that have been ruined.’
‘But the smoke damage,’ he began to say, ‘it’s—’
‘No buts,’ she interrupted him. ‘We can put it right. It will take time, but we can do it.’ She wrapped her arms around his sagging shoulders. ‘We’ll do it together. Yes?’
Before he could reply, and from behind them, they heard footsteps crunching on broken glass.
‘The police say they’ve caught Suzie Wu,’ said Jenna, indicating the phone in her hand. ‘What’s more, they haveCCTVfootage of her at a petrol station filling a container with petrol as well as buying a lighter.’
‘That and Jim’s video of her running off down the road has her pretty much bang to rights,’ said Simon.
‘Meanwhile,’ said Alastair, ‘the house needs to be made secure. I’ve arranged for somebody to come and board up the windows and front door. The man I spoke to said he’d be here within the hour.’
‘We also need, given the legal responsibility involved, to get a surveyor in asap to ensure the building is safe, and an electrician as well.’ This was from Simon.
‘I’ve already notified the insurance company,’ said Jenna. ‘You’ll need to decide whether or not you want to appoint a loss assessor. In the morning, when it’s light, I’d recommend we come back and take as many photographs of the damage as we can, as evidence.’
‘Goodness,’ murmured Frankie, reeling at the information coming at her, ‘you’ve all been so busy.’
