The Doll's House - [25]

Reaching the end of the road, he took cover behind a green Fiat and paused. This last bit was the most important – he could blow it now if he was rash. Counting to ten, he chanced a look round the back of the Fiat towards his van. Sure enough, a plain-clothes copper was peering through the van windscreen, searching for his mark.

‘Imbecile,’ Nathan muttered to himself, as the police officer ran back up the road towards his colleague.

Seeing him turn his back, Nathan took his chance, darting out of his hiding place and around the corner. Now he picked up his pace, sprinting down Winchester Road again, before cutting sharply left into St James’ Park. Pulling his hood up over his face, he slowed to a quick walk now, moving steadily but with purpose. Soon he was on Church Street and finally safe from pursuit.

As he walked home, Nathan felt no temptation to congratulate himself. He had had a lucky escape and from now on he would have to be very, very careful. One slip, one small mistake and the whole house would come crashing down.

41

The sun shone down on the water so brightly that Ruby had to raise her hands to shield her eyes from the glare. It was punishing, but it was a ravishingly beautiful sight nevertheless.

Steephill Cove was a perfect horseshoe bay and it looked resplendent today in the fierce spring sunshine. Ruby and her family had been coming to the Isle of Wight since she was small, and this was their favourite place on the island. Ruby knew every detail of it, right down to her favourite rock pools and climbing crags.

Mum, Dad, Cassie, Conor and their border collie, Max, were haring about on the beach, playing frisbee and splashing in the surf as a prelude to their picnic. They never did these by halves and though it was a pain to lug the hampers down the steep steps to the beach, it was always worth it. The kids would be allowed a swig of the sparkling wine – Dad always fired the cork up into the sea much to Mum’s consternation – to wash down the pies, crisps, sandwiches, home-made cakes and biscuits that Mum had assembled the night before. They always felt sick afterwards of course – but in a good way.

Stripping off to her bikini, Ruby ran into the surf, the foaming water jumping up at her as she hurdled the waves. Diving in, she swam hard – her arms cutting gracefully through the water – and before long she was far out to sea, her family now distant figures on the beach.

Holding her breath, Ruby plunged under the water. Down, down, down she went, kicking hard away from the churning surface and into the depths below. It was part of a game she’d invented to wind up her mother. She would swim out a long way, then disappear under the waves for as long as she could. Her mother, who wasn’t a confident swimmer and hated the sea, never failed to react, pacing the shoreline, calling to her. Her father, who was used to her tricks, never reacted, which irritated Ruby a touch, but at least she could always rely on Mum.

When she did finally surface, she would wave cheerfully to her as if she couldn’t hear her mother’s cries, before plunging under again. She would keep this up until she eventually took pity on her. Swimming back to shore, she could always be sure of a cuddle and an affectionate reprimand.

Her breath was running out now, her lungs bursting for fresh air, so she turned and kicked hard for the surface. She hadn’t achieved much in life, but she had always been a strong swimmer and Ruby felt elated now as she arrowed upwards, her sleek form cutting through the water.

Bursting through the surface, she took off her goggles and trod water, while drinking in great gulpfuls of air. Sure enough, she heard her mother’s plaintive cries. Smiling to herself, she prepared to dive again. Her mother’s cries were louder now and she resolved to ignore them, but suddenly she felt her mother’s arm on her shoulder, pulling her to shore. How had she got out here? It was miles from -

‘Summer.’

Already her dream was starting to fragment.

‘Summer.’

It wasn’t her mother pulling her to shore, it was him shaking her awake from her reverie.

Her jailer had returned.

42

‘So what do we do now?’

Harwood was to the point as usual. Helen had informed her that Nathan had escaped his surveillance team, with predictable results.

‘Watch and wait,’ Helen replied evenly. ‘We’ve tagged the van, so if he comes back we’ll know and I’ve sent teams to his home, the job he’s currently on -’

‘And are we sure he’s worth all these resources? I’ve no doubt he’s a nasty piece of work, but he has no record to speak of -’

‘He’s the only face in the frame. He has a history of violence and an unhealthy interest in young women, and had access to both women’s flats. If we watch him, I think we’ll get results.’

Helen had soft-pedalled the possible connection between Ruby Sprackling and Pippa Briers until now, but with Nathan Price slipping off the radar, the need for extra resources had forced her to come clean with Harwood.

‘Possibly,’ Harwood replied without enthusiasm. ‘Two days max and I want to be kept up to speed, right?’