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Chapter Two

Pallant Art Gallery, Brighton, Monday, 6 May, 1.16 p.m.

Instagram Story

Well, today I have been tasked by my illustrious boss at Vacation Staycation to spend the weekend in the Lake District at Conmere Resort Centre, which has been revamped by the Sinclair family – Pru and her three sons, Dominic, Harry and Owen. And, best of all, I get to meet them and sample the new facilities – can’t wait! #BestJobEver

‘What do you think?’ asked Steph, as her friend read her Instagram post.

‘I must say, you sound far more enthusiastic on Instagram than you do in real life,’ said Ria, putting down her phone. They were sitting in the office at the back of the gallery, Steph having called in to her friend in her lunch break.

Steph looked at her across her cappuccino. ‘I’m looking forward to it. I remember Conmere House from when I used to live up there. You know, my dad was a delivery driver for the Sinclair family for quite a few years, up until he died, actually, which was soon after the three sons took it over.’

‘And the sons have done the refurb?’

‘As I understand it. They offer all sorts of outdoor activities now but aimed at the high-end market. Pretty expensive, from what I’ve seen of the price list. Anyway, it’s not so much the resort I’m excited about, it’s the scenery. I’m hoping I’ll get a chance to take some photos for my portfolio.’

‘Oh, yes, do,’ encouraged Ria. ‘Lakes and mountains always sell. Soon you’ll be rich enough to leave your job at the travel agency.’

‘Yeah, in my dreams. Don’t get me wrong, I do like my job, but this is about as exciting as it gets. I’d like to get my teeth into something juicier.’

‘Like what?’

‘Oh, I don’t know. Something that’s a bit more serious and high profile. Current affairs or investigative journalism.’

‘I thought you were going to say you’d prefer to do photography.’

‘I would, but it doesn’t earn me a regular steady income. It’s hard-going being single. I thought after being divorced for over a year, I’d be more financially stable now.’

‘I think you were too easy on Zac; you should have pushed for more.’

‘Just because he had an affair? No, I was actually relieved when I found out. At least it prompted me to do something about it – to start afresh. We both knew our marriage was over long before that.’ Ria didn’t look convinced, but Steph had long since given up trying to justify her actions to her friend, as, no matter how well-intentioned Ria was, she hadn’t been in that marriage. Ultimately it had been down to Steph and Zac to sort things out, which they had done amicably. Privately, Steph had admitted to herself, if Zac hadn’t been the one to have an affair, it could so easily have been her. They had both been looking for love and affection, which sadly neither could provide the other with.

Steph cleared her throat in a bid to clear her mind. Zac and their marriage and divorce certainly didn’t need revisiting. ‘Anyway, back to my new assignment. I’m sure I can get some great photos up there in the Lake District and any extra money will be most welcome, especially at the moment. I just had to spend out to get my car through its MOT.’ Steph’s gaze dipped as she concentrated placing her cup onto her saucer.

‘Hey, don’t be so glum. You know you’re a great photographer but it’s a hard market, you know that,’ said Ria, not saying anything they hadn’t already said over the past few years. Ria gave Steph a sympathetic smile and then struck a cheerier note. ‘And there’s the bonus that you’ll be back on your old stomping ground.’

‘I’m not sure I’d describe that as a bonus.’

‘You might be able to spend a bit of time with your mum, now that she’s retired.’

Steph appreciated the delicacy with which her friend spoke the words. The relationship between Steph and her mum was difficult at the best of times, so she wasn’t entirely sure spending time together was on the agenda.

‘How is your mum enjoying her retirement?’

Steph could hear the genuine concern in Ria’s voice. ‘Hard to say, if I’m honest. She says in the end she hated working for the police, especially CID when she was promoted to DCI. There was so much paperwork and red tape that went along with the job, it just wasn’t her thing.’

‘It’s a shame she feels like that. It should be something she looks back on with pride and affection.’

‘You’d think so, wouldn’t you? She was more married to the job than she was to my dad.’

‘Did she ever encourage you to join?’ Ria picked up the cups and took them over to the sink.

‘God, no. Besides, I didn’t want to be overshadowed by the wonderful DCI Wendy Lynch. The one who was awarded a bravery medal, the one who cracked a child-trafficking ring, the one who went deep under cover and nearly paid for it with her life.’ Steph shook her head. ‘No, thank you.’

‘Instead you opted for a career with no security, one that’s full of uncertainty.’

Steph opened the Twitter app on her phone. ‘If I can create a bit of a buzz about my new assignment, get the word out about the photography too, I might get some more work. I’m going to tweet it as well as putting it on Instagram and Facebook.’

‘Good idea. I’ll retweet it and share it, of course.’

Steph read the tweet aloud as she typed. ‘Long weekend in Lake District to review Conmere Resort Centre. Can’t wait! #Conmere #Sinclairfamily #freelance.’

‘You need to word it so there is some sort of interaction,’ pointed out Ria. ‘Ask people to recommend places, then maybe you can approach those places for some promo work.’

‘Excellent idea,’ said Steph as she reworded her tweet before posting it.

‘Look, I need to get back to work. I’ve got an American coming in looking for something special for his apartment,’ said Ria, rinsing the cups and drying her hands. ‘Don’t forget it’s Gareth’s birthday meal a week on Friday. Eight o’clock. My house.’

‘How could I forget? But no matchmaking. I don’t want to be stuck with your husband’s latest single male colleague he’s rustled up from the depths of the corporate world’s basement.’

‘Don’t be such a spoilsport,’ said Ria.

‘I mean it!’ Steph gave her friend a hug before going on her way.

Brighton, Monday, 6 May, 7.23 p.m.

Throughout the afternoon, Steph’s phone pinged intermittently with replies to her social media posts. Ria had been right about asking for people’s recommendations; it had provided a wealth of answers. It would be even more exciting if one of those transformed into a new commission, thought Steph as she ran herself a bath. She really didn’t fancy bar work but, judging by the balance of her bank account that afternoon, she wasn’t going to have any choice in the matter. She had enough in her savings account to pay two months’ rent and then that was it. The books weren’t balancing; her income-to-outgoing ratio was tipping the wrong way. She’d have to come up with something soon because she sure as hell wasn’t going to go begging to her mother for a sub. For a start, that would be admitting defeat – it would prove her mother right that travel journalism wasn’t any better than the local reporting she’d done when she first left uni. All her mother’s doom and gloom predictions could be soon fulfilled if Steph didn’t get something sorted.

Having spent a good hour in the bath, dressed in her pjs, her hair wrapped in a towel and with a tub of ice cream in one hand, a spoon in the other, Steph opened her laptop to catch up on some box-set viewing. While she was waiting for the series to load, she checked her phone. The social media notifications had calmed down now, but when she opened the Twitter app she saw she had a direct message.

Hello, Steph. I saw your tweet about Conmere Resort Centre and the Sinclair family. My daughter was married to one of the Sinclair brothers. Check out my timeline and Google Elizabeth Sinclair. My daughter’s death was NOT an accident. I’m looking for someone to prove this. I can pay well. Message me if you think you’re up to the job. From Sonia Lomas.