I handed him his tea.
‘Thanks. You found everything then?’
‘Yes,’ I said sighing, turning my back on the kitchen and my daydreams. Now that he was here, my palms felt clammy. Was it time for our talk?
* * *
I needn’t have worried. Our conversation focused on yesterday’s mad dash to the airport with Daniel giving me a complete rundown.
‘Bill was such in a state. He’s pumped up on the rugby pitch, of course, but I’ve never seen him like that off the field. Talkabout a bull on the rampage. Poor girl at the check-in desk. I thought he was going to pick her up by the scruff of her neck.’
‘Really? Let’s hope he’s calmed down when he gets there and is a bit gentler with Kate. She’s going to kill me for spilling the beans.’
‘You think?’ Daniel asked. ‘Won’t she be pleased to see him? I had no idea anything had gone on between them.’
‘Neither did I, until that night at The Grayville when you barged in on Kate’s confession,’ I said pointedly.
Daniel looked confused for a second, put down his mug and leaned against the draining board with his arms folded. ‘Come again.’
How nice it was to take the moral high ground and rub it in that he’d completely got the wrong end of the stick that night.
‘Kate was halfway through telling me she was pregnant and hiding in the bathroom when you knocked on the door of the suite.’
Daniel’s face creased into a frown. ‘Ouch. I got that one wrong.’
‘Yes you did,’ I said sternly. ‘Jumping to conclusions. Which seems to have become a bit of a habit.’
I wished he’d stop staring at me.
‘Sorry, I thought—’
‘I know what you thought . . .’
‘I just—’ He was interrupted by the ring of the phone. ‘Bloody hell.’ He glanced at his watch ignoring it. ‘We need some peace. Let’s nip up to Mum and Dad’s, get your tape and go to the pub for a couple of hours. We’ve got a lot of things to clear up.’
That sounded a great idea. I could do with being on neutral territory in case I didn’t like what he had to say.
Just as he was hustling me out of the door, I recognised the voice on the answering machine, which had just clicked in. It had to be Emily, didn’t it?
‘Hi, it’s me. Think I might have missed a call from you last night. Sorry my phone was erm... off. Call me at home. Catch up with you then.’
So he’d called Emily last night, had he? I wondered what for. Was he trying to get her version of things?
* * *
The ancient video recorder was in what George and Miriam referred to as the family room, although ten generations of my family would have fitted in there. They had to be the only people still using one, but I knew I where I could get the tape digitised for the client.
Miriam had left the tape on top of the television, clearly marked.
‘Do you mind if we watch it quickly?’ I asked. ‘Make sure it’s on there.’ Now I was here, my stomach was doing cartwheels and I wasn’t so sure about going to the pub.
Wow, Miranda’s dress looked brilliant on TV. The white silk of the fabric was luminous against the deep red of the carpet while the coloured lip prints stood out in multicoloured contrast. The camera hugged Miranda’s tiny figure, zooming in on the ‘Minx Red’ lip print over her bottom.
As the camera swung away down to the later arrivals, it homed in on Emily, looking lush and gorgeous in her halter neck dress. Bloody hell, she looked stunning. I didn’t dare look at Daniel to see what he thought. Then it panned out over the watching crowd.
‘Look, there’s Kate... oh my God,’ I breathed, realising who she was talking to. I stared at a splash of red around the neck of the man next to her. The hairs on my arm stood rigid to attention as a curl of alarm tightened in my stomach. Leaning forward, I studied the screen, my hand over my mouth, disbelieving.
‘Where’s the remote?’ I asked in a thin, high voice, my eyes fixed on the TV.
