Page 32 of Maybe Tomorrow

Jane took a deep breath. ‘Yes. They did. And I hope to God I don’t know them. If it is someone from round here, it’ll tear this community apart.’

Freya gave a nervous smile and thanked Jane for talking to her.

Freya turned and left the library. She pulled up her coat collar as a stiff breeze caused her to shiver. As she reached her Fiesta, she looked back at the library and saw the tall, heavy figure of Anthony Winstanley standing at a window, looking out at her. His face was expressionless, his gaze steely, glaring straight at her. She shuddered, climbed into the car and headed home to her flat.

ChapterFourteen

For the first time in as long as Pauline could remember, Anthony went to bed without any tea.

After the funeral, he’d insisted on going into work. The library had closed for the morning so the staff could attend. Pauline said she would call Mrs Wilkinson for him so he could spend the rest of the day at home, but he was adamant he wanted to be among his colleagues. When he arrived home at six o’clock, he had a cup of tea in the kitchen and gave monosyllabic answers to her questions, before saying he wasn’t hungry and going straight upstairs to bed.

Pauline tried, several times, to talk to him. She knocked on his bedroom door, asking if he was all right or if he wanted her to make him a sandwich. She’d even allow him to eat in bed if he was hungry. He simply ignored her.

At nine o’clock, she called Leo Mulligan and asked him to call round.

‘He’s locked his door, and he won’t talk to me,’ she said as soon as she opened the front door to him. ‘I know he’s taken Alice’s death hard, but… I’m worried,’ she said, tears pricking her eyes.

‘I’ll go up and talk to him,’ Leo said, resting a hand on her arm.

‘Thank you, Leo,’ she smiled. ‘I’ll put the kettle on.’

She watched as Leo slipped his shoes off and walked upstairs. She waited until he turned at the top on the landing and disappeared out of sight, before retreating to the kitchen. Whatever they talked about, she didn’t want to hear it.

Leo stood in front of Anthony’s bedroom door. He listened intently for any sound within but couldn’t hear anything. He licked his lips, then knocked. There was no reply.

‘Ant, it’s me, Leo. Can I come in?’

Still no reply.

‘I’m on my own. Your mum’s downstairs.’

There was a long pause before the door was opened. Anthony’s face was empty of emotion. He looked down at Leo, stepped back and allowed him to enter. Once Leo was in the room, Anthony closed the door and locked it.

Anthony’s bedroom was the same size as his mother’s. He had a double bed with fitted wardrobes either side and cupboards along the top. His window overlooked the front of the house. On a clear night, he could see the sea. He wanted a telescope so he could look at the stars or watch the waves come crashing in, but his mum said the neighbours might think he was a peeping tom, so wouldn’t let him.

Anthony sat on the edge of the bed and Leo stood in front of the window. He looked at the bookshelves on the wall filled with comic books.

‘Your mum’s worried about you?’

‘Mum’s always worried about me,’ Anthony said, concentrating on his hands, picking at his nails.

‘DoIneed to be worried?’

Anthony looked up at him. ‘No.’

‘It’s been a difficult day, hasn’t it?’

He nodded.

‘You liked Alice Patterson, didn’t you?’

He nodded again.

‘Do you want to talk about her?’

He shook his head.

Leo moved over to the bed and sat beside him. ‘Tell me what you’re thinking.’