‘Keep looking,’ Charlie urged.
But one after another the crates were opened and passed clear.Still Charlie clung to hope that their prize lay in wait deep in the bowels of the vehicle.But as the final crate was opened, the full extent of her error became clear: there was nothing in the truck apart from agricultural machine parts.Turning once more, she took in the unfortunate driver, Peeters’ expression – one of indignation and outrage – and behind him DC Roberts, whose reaction was even worse.Anger, frustration, but deep embarrassment too.
Charlie had staked a lot on this operation, putting her reputation with Holmes, with the team, on the line.And she had lost.
Chapter 12
Emilia continued to stare at her father in disbelief, scarcely taking in his words.He had tried to explain his situation, to flesh out the details of his condition, but Emilia could only think aboutwhyhe was telling her this.What he might stand to gain from this sudden confession.
‘Look, back up a bit, will you?’she demanded.‘Have you got any proof that this is actuallyreal?’
‘You think I’m bullshitting you?’her father fired back.‘Of course I’ve gotproof.You can check with the prison medical staff.I’ve … I’ve got stage four lung cancer.It’s my own stupid fault, of course, but there it is.They say I’ve got three months left, six tops.’
Emilia stared at him.She didn’t know what she’d been expecting from today’s meeting, but it wasn’tthis.
‘Look, I haven’t asked you here to perform miracles, Emilia.I’ve got several years left on my sentence.Even if I tried to get that commuted because of my illness, I’d be dead before anyone got near considering my case.I’m going to die in this place and there’s nothing I can do about it.’
Despite herself, Emilia felt a pang of compassion.Her father deserved to suffer for what he’d done to her, but even so, dying in this crumbling dump was a pitiful way to go.
‘I don’t want your sympathy, nor do I expect your love,’ he continued.‘But I would like to do what I can to make up for the past.I … I want to die with a clear conscience.’
‘And you think you can do that by offering me an apology?’Emilia scoffed.‘There’s nothing you can possibly say that could make up for the way you exploited us, the way youabandonedus.Your arrest killed Mum, you do know that, don’t you?And who was left to pick up the pieces?To bring upyourchildren?’
Ernesto dropped his gaze to his feet, his shame clear.As he did so, the prison bell rang loudly in the background, signalling the end of visiting time, but Emilia wasn’t finished yet.
‘So, forgive me if I don’t go all gooey when you offer up a mea culpa.Words are cheap, Dad, it’s actions that count.And throughout your life you’ve not done a single thing – notonething – that’s helped us.All you did was hurt us and that’s something you’ll have to live –and die– with.’
Had she been expecting those words to crush her father?That her damning verdict would render him speechless and tearful?If so, she was to be disappointed, her father nodding thoughtfully, as he replied:
‘I couldn’t agree with you more, Emilia.You are a chip off the old block.’
Emilia shook her head angrily, dismissing the notion.
‘But Idothink there is a way I can help you.That’s why I asked you here.But itmustremain between you and me for now.You cannot under any circumstances tell your brothers and sisters.It’s our secret, OK?’
He angled a glance at the prison officers, who were now starting to move the visitors on.Leaning in closer, Ernesto lowered his voice as he continued:
‘Come back again tomorrow and I’ll tell you how I intend to help you.Trust me, it’ll be worth your while …’
Emilia looked at her father, confused and unsettled, fighting the curiosity that was bubbling inside her.
‘What do you mean, Dad?What are you talk—’
But Ernesto had already risen, turning back briefly to place a meaningful finger to his lips, before taking his place amongst the departing throng.
Chapter 13
Fortune favours the brave.It was a maxim Helen had always believed in, refusing to be downcast or diverted when she knew she had a job to do.So, despite her rejection at the hands of a former colleague, despite the nausea that still gripped her, she strode purposefully through the busy shopping precinct, zeroing in on her target.
The takeaway sign was illuminated, the shop door open, a group of sixth-formers idling nearby with freshly fried chips.And though the smell of a slow-cooking doner kebab was the last thing Helen felt she could stomach right now, she made swiftly for the takeaway.The clock was ticking and every second counted.
‘Morning, my darling, what can I get for …’
The owner’s jaunty welcome petered out as soon as he realized who’d entered.
‘Look, I don’t want any trouble, OK?’he said, holding up his hands, as if afraid of her.
‘Well, you won’t get any from me,’ Helen countered.‘But I do need your help.’
