Hot Pursuit (14 page)

‘Maggie?’

She swung round violently, almost as if Bernie had slapped her.

‘What the hell are you doing here?’ she said. Bernie could hear the astonishment in her voice. He held up a hand to silence her but should have guessed that it would be nowhere near enough.

‘Spying on me, were you?’ She was blushing furiously and had leapt away from pretty boy as if he was on fire. ‘You’ve got a nerve showing your face round here –’

‘Shush,’ said Bernie gently. ‘Don’t get so wound up, Maggie. Calm down; it’s all right. I haven’t come to cause any trouble – I’ve come about him.’ He waved towards the tall man.

‘Him?’ Maggie said suspiciously. ‘What do you mean,
him
, Bernie? How come you know anything about
him
?’ Her voice was heavy with sarcasm and her eyes darkened as she looked him up and down. Bernie flinched. He didn’t know how much
Maggie knew about what was going on but he sensed that she could detect his fingerprints all over this job.

Bernie nodded towards her companion. ‘I don’t know much at all, if I’m honest.’ He heard Maggie snort but apparently she decided not to pass comment on the state of his honesty as he turned to face the man. ‘I don’t know who you are or what you did, but two men came to visit me yesterday. They thought I was you and they had guns. Ring any bells?’

There was a dark and nasty silence. The man paled.

Maggie looked first at the man and then at Bernie. ‘And?’ she said, not dropping her gaze.

Bernie sighed. Maggie knew him too well – with Bernie there was always an and or a but.

‘And I think they’re on their way down here to find you – to find him. In fact, I’m surprised they aren’t here already.’

‘How do you know that they’re coming here?’ said Maggie, eyes narrowing.

Bernie sighed. ‘Because Mrs Eliot told me that she had told them –’

‘What? She told them that I was here? I don’t believe she’d tell anyone unless –’ and then Maggie blanched as the realisation hit her. ‘Is she all right? Did they – they didn’t hurt her, did they?’ She looked at the her ex-husband who shuffled nervously from foot to foot.

‘No, no, she’s absolutely fine. Fit as a fur coat full of fleas when I left her,’ said Bernie quickly. ‘She thought they were from the gas board.’

Maggie rolled her eyes. ‘I’m going to have to have a word with her about that.’

The man pulled out a mobile from his jacket pocket. ‘I ought to ring in now,’ he said. ‘Now that we know they’re on the way.’

‘Okay – but can we arrange to meet the cavalry somewhere else? I don’t want them turning up here.’

‘I’m not sure that you should be there at all,’ the man said. Maggie sighed. Bernie looked at him. Despite appearances he obviously didn’t know Maggie very well.

‘Can we talk about that later?’ she asked. The man nodded, giving Bernie a sharp look, and then moved away to make his call.

Bernie shifted uncomfortably under Maggie’s icy stare. ‘I did try to ring and warn you, Maggie.’

She lifted an eyebrow. ‘Did you? And I wonder why that was, Bernie? Guilty conscience, was it? I get the distinct impression that you have had more to do with all this than meets the eye.’

Bernie stared at her. ‘Well that’s gratitude for you, I bloody-well hitched down here as well, and that’s all the thanks I get. I’m sorry I bothered you.’

Maggie held his gaze without flinching. ‘And
don’t do that face on me, Bernie – or that “who – me” expression. I know you from way back, don’t forget that.’

Bernie shrugged the tension away. ‘What about pretty boy over there? Do you know him, too?’

‘Nick, his name is Nick. Although for a while he was called Bernie Fielding. Odd that, isn’t it?’

Bernie decided not to take the bait. ‘Nick, eh? What on earth were you thinking about, Mags? You should know better than to go around rescuing strays at your age. You don’t want to get mixed up with someone like him – you know, on the run. A criminal. He could have done anything, you know.’

Maggie laughed. ‘Who, Nick? Don’t be daft, Bernie, you only have to look at him to know that that’s not true. Nick’s not a criminal, he’s innocent.’

‘Oh right, well of course, that makes it all right then, doesn’t it?’ said Bernie, turning up the sarcasm to sear. ‘First rule of being a criminal is to say that you’re innocent. What did he tell you? That he was framed? That it was all a terrible mistake? That he took the rap for his mate? Honour amongst thieves? They all say that, you know. Don’t you ever learn, Maggie?’

Maggie beaded him with hurt and angry eyes. ‘When you say “don’t I ever learn”, I presume you are talking about yourself?’

Bernie shook his head and groaned. ‘Oh come on, Mags, give me a break. You have to admit that you’ve got crap taste in men, look at that other tosser you married.’ Maggie opened her mouth to speak but before she could strike, Bernie said, ‘So are you two an item, then? You and the lovely, innocent Nick.’

‘And what exactly has that got to do with you, Bernie?’

‘Just curious; he doesn’t look like your type.’

‘What do you mean? That he looks normal and he hasn’t got a dodgy past that he needs to lie about?’

Bernie winced. ‘Ouch, that was a bit below the belt, Mags.’

Maggie didn’t look amused.

‘I thought that you might at least have had the good grace to thank me. I came down here to warn you, I’ve most probably saved your life.’

‘Not yet you haven’t,’ she said indignantly, and then – after a few seconds – more kindly, ‘Thank you, now bugger off.’

At which point Bernie’s stomach rumbled. ‘Any chance of a cup of tea and a slice of toast, only I’m totally famished.’

Maggie didn’t move.

Nick arrived back, cradling the phone. ‘He said we ought to be going as soon as we can – that we’ll be safer in a crowd. They’re already well on their way.’

Maggie nodded. ‘Okay I’ll go and get the car keys.’

‘Any chance of a lift?’ asked Bernie brightly, with feigned innocence.

Maggie put her hand in the pocket of her jeans and pulling out a crumpled fiver pressed it into his hand. ‘Don’t push your luck, Bernie. Go and get yourself a cab.’

‘But you’re going into town,’ he protested.

Maggie rounded on him. ‘Don’t give me all this crap. I
know
that you have had a hand in this somewhere, Bernie – I don’t know how and I don’t know why, but I know without a shadow of a doubt that somehow all this is your fault. I don’t want you in my car; I don’t want you in my life. Just the thought of you makes me furious – beyond furious – way out beyond furious. Do you understand?’

‘But I came to warn you,’ he protested.

‘For which we are very grateful,’ said Maggie, shooing Nick towards the car. ‘But every bone in my body tells me that the reason that we’re in this mess in the first place is most probably down to you. Go on, tell me I’m not right?’

Bernie flinched. ‘You’ve gotten so hard, Maggie, so very hard. I never thought I’d see you like this. Hard and bitter – it doesn’t suit you, you know. You were never like this when we were married.’

She laughed. ‘No, because I was too bloody
naïve back then. I believed every word you told me and just look where it got me. Thank you for coming, thank you for warning us – now just bugger off home, will you?’

‘But I’m hungry,’ Bernie whined. ‘I’ve been on the road for hours to get down here; I could murder a cup of tea.’

Maggie sighed but he could see that she was relenting. ‘Oh for God’s sake, Bernie. All right. Help yourself. There’s milk and cereals and bread in the fridge. Eat, drink, and then drop the latch when you leave. And if I find that you’ve nicked anything or sold the bloody beach hut to some gormless American I will personally hunt you down and rip your throat out. Don’t say that you haven’t been warned.’

Nick looked on at her in amazement. Bernie grinned and, turning on his heel, followed Maggie back to the hut. He had no real intention of having tea or anything else come to that. He just wanted a nose around.

Maggie got the keys and headed back to the car with a goodbye and another warning about theft.

It was nice to feel that he had won on points over pretty boy, maybe even shown Nick a side of Maggie that he didn’t know existed, and besides there was a little bit of Bernie that wanted to see if they had slept together. As they drove away Bernie waved from the steps and then pulled the door too behind him.

His plan was to hang around for a few minutes and then head off into Watchet. He was bound to be able to get a lift with someone. Bernie pocketed the fiver and then thought that maybe a cup of tea wasn’t such a bad idea after all. He lit a cigarette and plugged in the kettle and while he waited for it to boil he set about a little light exploration. First port of call – the master-bedroom.

Bernie smiled to himself as he opened the door; there was a tee shirt slung over the chair, pillows all over the floor. So they were an item after all.

At the entrance to the site, Maggie hesitated. ‘Where to?’

‘Coleman said we were to meet him in Minehead.’

Maggie nodded and turned right along the coast road. As she did so she noticed a car in the distance, creeping up the hill. ‘How long did Coleman say it would be before he got there?’

Nick laughed without humour. ‘They patched him through by some sort of satellite link; he’s already well on his way here.’

‘That’s good, isn’t it?’ said Maggie, with what she hoped was a reassuring smile.

‘Depends on how you look at it, I suppose. So,’ said Nick thoughtfully, ‘that was the infamous
Bernie Fielding. It was good of him to come and warn us.’

Maggie cocked an eyebrow; at least her instinct hadn’t been that far out of kilter. Bernie had had a hand in what was going on, although try as she might Maggie couldn’t work out exactly what. But then again, Bernie had always managed to surprise her. She was still trying to fathom out what exactly Bernie’s angle was; she found it very hard to believe he’d warned them out of a sense of philanthropy.

‘He seems like a good man to me.’

Maggie snorted. ‘Well there we have it, Nick, with intuition like that it’s no wonder you’re on the run.’

He smiled. ‘You’ve always got a smart answer, haven’t you?’

Maggie reddened, sensing that it wasn’t meant as a compliment. ‘Meaning what, exactly?’

‘Meaning that it’s a great defence – a nice verbal sleight of hand – and that to be that defensive Bernie must have hurt you very much,’ Nick continued.

Maggie’s heart softened.

‘And about kissing you? You know, when we got back from the beach –’ he said experimentally.

Maggie glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. If Nick pulled back now and apologised, if he said he was wrong or sorry or that he really
didn’t mean it, she would be devastated. She knew that they had both felt that insistent little buzz since they met, felt it so much on the beach that it was like walking with a generator for company. Kissing him hadn’t been so much a turn on as a relief – as if the energy had finally earthed itself before it exhausted the pair of them.

‘I just wanted you to know that, whatever happens, I’m glad that we met, Maggie. I just wish that it hadn’t been under these circumstances. I keep thinking that if Coleman whips me away today there is a good chance I may never see you again –’ She could hear the pain in his voice ‘– and I probably won’t be able to contact you once I’ve been relocated.’

Of course, he was right. Maggie sighed, wishing with all her heart that she had had the courage to creep across the pillow barrier when she was awake. What harm would it have done?

‘I’m so sorry,’ he said.

‘Me, too,’ replied Maggie softly, as she felt her heart sink.

Meanwhile, back at the beach hut, Bernie, hands cradled round a mug of Yorkshire’s finest, looked longingly at the sofa. He hadn’t realised until now just how tired he was. First off he’d had a long hard night with Stella Conker-eyes, followed by a night on a damp bench in the
pavilion. He stretched experimentally – no wonder he was so knackered, after all he was no spring chicken.

Bernie considered his options. The sofa looked very comfortable – then again, why trifle with the sofa when he could just as easily slip into Maggie’s double bed? After all, she could hardly object – she’d never know. He wouldn’t get in it, obviously, just lie on the top. Okay, so perhaps pull the duvet up over his shoulder just to get comfortable. It would be so nice to close his eyes for half an hour or so and then he would be on his way. He padded through into Maggie’s bedroom, set the mug down on the bedside table and then slipped off his boots. Half an hour; what harm would it do?

Bernie yawned. Maybe the gasmen had got lost, maybe they weren’t going to show up after all. Whatever the case, Bernie knew that if he didn’t lie down soon he would fall down.

‘So here we go again. Photos, gloves, guns, Mintoes.’ Nimrod ran though his mental checklist.

He slipped the envelope of photos out of the glove compartment of the discreet silver-grey hire car and took a final long hard look at the images of Nick Lucas before tapping the number of the campsite into his mobile. What followed was a masterful piece of bullshit.

‘Hi –’ Nimrod’s voice warmed to almost jovial, ‘My name is Jonathan Smith – I’m sorry to disturb you so early but we’re on our way down to see Maggie Morgan. God, I feel so stupid – I can’t remember the number of her beach hut and I’ve left the piece of paper on the kitchen table. I’m just glad I could remember the name of your site – we’re supposed to be meeting her this morning. I’ve tried ringing her mobile but she must have switched it off, and then I panicked in case we’d got the wrong week. Do you know if she’s arrived yet?’ He managed to sound cheery and respectable and helpless in that warm, puppyish way that women in particular respond well to.

The woman at the far end of the line giggled. ‘Don’t worry, I’m just the same. Maggie’s most definitely here, although I haven’t seen her yet this morning, she rang to say she was on her way last night. It’s number twenty-six. As you come into the site, carry on straight ahead when you get to the bottom of the hill – it’s down a little track – and then bear right at the first turning you come to. Would you like me to send someone down to tell her you’re on your way?’