He glanced back at the tree, only a few strokes away from succumbing, the cream and brown heartwood exposed. ‘I wasn’t prepared to wield the chainsaw on a trunk with no one around to get help if I got into trouble. Anyway, it seems fitting that such an old tree meets its end by hand.’
Her eyes narrowed. ‘You looked like you were beating it to death.’
Face heating up, he felt as if she saw right through him. But he pushed the thought aside, wanting to make the most of their return to conversation rather than frozen silences. ‘I really need you to let me properly apologise—’
‘It’s OK.’ Her expression didn’t change.
‘It wasn’t OK! I was incredibly crass, doing a vanishing act while you were asleep then sounding as if I was accusing you of having something to do with what’s gone missing. I’ve hardly slept for wondering what you must have felt.’ Hardly sleeping wasn’t new, but he’d passed a bad night even by his standards. ‘You must have something to say.’
She stared. Finally she nodded. ‘I’m glad we didn’t have condoms.’ Then she turned and vanished around the corner of The Angel.
He stared after her, insulted, as he knew he was meant to be.
Turning back to the apple tree he pulled on his hardhat and visor and weighed the axe in his hands before swinging the glinting glade once more. Ten strokes and the tree creaked and whined. He stood back and watched as it seemed to fall in slow motion, landing with a thump that travelled up from the earth and into his legs.
It lay exactly where he’d planned. At least he was good at something.
Alexia let herself into her house and found Jodie once again lying on the sofa, staring at the ceiling while Family Guy blared out from the TV.
Alexia hung her jacket on the doorknob and flopped into an armchair, scooping up the remote to switch off the TV, too heartsick and hollow to worry about niceties. ‘We need to talk.’
Slowly, Jodie turned to look at her. ‘I was watching that.’
Alexia declined to get involved in an argument about what constituted ‘watching’. She suspected that even the most optimistic of girlfriends must by now be seeing the writing on the wall but was unsurprised Jodie was putting off reading it. She wasn’t exactly one of life’s copers. ‘Gabe and I have been to give our statements to Detective Constable Fitzhugh at Bettsbrough police station.’
Jodie’s eyes shimmered with sudden tears.
Compassion triumphing over her own grey mood, Alexia hauled herself up and went to kneel on the floor beside her friend. She softened her voice. ‘Have you been able to reach Shane?’
Jodie shook her head and a tear skated from the corner of her eye.
‘The police have confirmed they’re looking for him, Jodes. I’m so sorry. According to a neighbour’s CCTV his truck made several trips to and from The Angel between eight and ten on Sunday morning. It was fully loaded each time it left. Shane and Tim don’t seem to exist, according to the police national computer, so DC Fitzhugh wants you to see him to provide what details you can. Give him pictures of Shane from your phone, and his truck’s registration number.’
More tears followed the first, plunging down Jodie’s cheeks. ‘I don’t remember his number plate.’ Her mouth stretched around a sob. ‘Shane’s my boyfriend. I’ve been with him for months, he almost lived here—’
‘About that.’ Alexia clasped her aching forehead. ‘You know some of the money in the community account was cleared by cheques paid into a few different accounts?’
Jodie gave the tiniest of nods.
Alexia stroked her friend’s arm through her dressing gown. ‘Gabe and I have an appointment with the bank tomorrow and we’re hoping you’ll come.’ She cleared her throat miserably. ‘The thing is … the cheque numbers relate to the cheque book we keep here so a likely scenario is that …’ About to say as he got so close to you she looked at the misery and pain on her friend’s face and changed it to, ‘as we let him pretty much run tame here, he had access to it.’
Slowly Jodie’s face crumpled. ‘How could he?’
Although she knew Jodie was beseeching her to explain how Shane could treat Jodie that way, Alexia shied away from any discussion that might lead to the conclusion that Jodie had been a mug. ‘The DC said it’s possible Shane’s a confidence trickster. Obviously time’s been invested in pulling together his plan and it probably won’t be the first time he’s done it. By sharing space with you he got access to your laptop, your security gadget from the bank and the cheque book.’
With a howl, Jodie lost what was left of her composure. ‘All the cheque books. My private bank accounts are empty too-oo-oo!’
Shock swept through Alexia. ‘Oh, no! Oh, Jodes. For some reason that hadn’t occurred to me. Have you called the police?’
‘Noooo-oo-oo,’ Jodie bawled, flinging her arms around Alexia and burying her head against her shoulder.
‘Then tell DC Fitzhugh when you go and see him. And you’ll have to notify the bank.’ She slipped her arms around Jodie’s quaking body. ‘Do you want me to come with you?’
‘Yes plea-ea-ease!’
It was some time before Jodie stopped howling. Alexia hugged and patted her and passed her tissues, stunned by the cruelty of her friend’s humiliation. Ben’s disappointing behaviour paled into insignificance when compared with the cynical way Shane had used Jodie.
‘Th-thank you for not being cross,’ Jodie hiccupped eventually.
‘Of course I’m not cross. You’re the sister I never had, remember?’ Alexia referenced the phrase they’d used as teenagers. Jodie, older by two years, had always been ready with teenage wisdom at important moments, such as Alexia’s ‘first time’. At the end the boy goes ‘ruuuhhhhh’ and falls on you but he’ll be OK after a minute.
In their twenties it had been Alexia who’d blossomed, following her star despite not being able to complete university, determined not to stagger from one financial crisis to another like her dad, nor to rely on a man, like her mum. Jodie, less driven, had been content with working in cosy coffee shops popular with customers who liked a chat as well as a well-risen scone.
Alexia had been surprised when Jodie agreed to join with Gabe to run The Angel Community Café. Responsibility didn’t feature large in her comfort zone – in fact it was a prime cause of anxiety for her – but probably Gabe, with his innate good sense and decades of financial experience, had made it seem nice and safe.
Now everything had gone wrong. Alexia and Gabe were struggling for a grip on the nightmare of being the victims of crime. Jodie had gone to pieces. Christopher Carlysle, who’d only ever lent his good name to The Community Café fundraising account, was making it plain he had not expected to be dragged into the fallout from theft by deception.
And how the hell was this whole ugly mess to be explained to the villagers? So many had joined in the fundraising—
Jodie thumped the sofa cushion, jolting Alexia out of her unhappy reverie. ‘You’re supposed to be the businesswoman, Alexia!’
Alexia, her legs aching from crouching for so long, wobbled dangerously. She’d thought herself inured to Jodie’s lightning changes of mood but this one caught her by surprise. ‘What?’
Jodie’s face was blotched red but her mouth was set in a stubborn line. ‘You obviously didn’t check Shane out, did you?’
Alexia hauled herself to her feet, rubbing her knees to bring the circulation