Helen arrived to take Liffey for a walk and fussed over Joe as much as he’d allow her to. When Liffey was returned and the house was in order, Joe sat in the conservatory with a coffee, intending to do nothing more until lunch time and he very quickly drifted off to sleep. The telephone woke him and he was surprised to see that it was after 1pm.
‘Good afternoon, is that Mr Joe Parker?’ a man’s voice enquired.
‘It is, yes.’
‘Ah, hello, this is Detective Sergeant Ted Armstrong from Hampshire Constabulary in Eastleigh. Could I confirm whether or not you are a relative of Mr David Parker?’
Joe’s heart sank. What could possibly have happened now?
‘Yes, I’m his younger brother. Is anything wrong?’ he asked.
‘I’m very sorry to have to tell you that your brother is dead, Mr Parker. We found your number in a phonebook at his flat and I wonder if I could ask you a few questions? Again, I’m sorry for your loss and for having to inform you on the telephone like this, but circumstances dictate that we act swiftly.’
‘That’s okay; it’s just a bit of a shock, that’s all... How did he die?’
‘It appears that a domestic incident got out of hand. Could you tell me the last time you saw your brother, Mr Parker?’
‘Um, yes, I saw him yesterday actually.’ Joe’s mind raced; should he tell the sergeant everything? And what did he mean by a domestic?
‘Yesterday?’ The sergeant sounded surprised. ‘Did you visit him here?’
‘No, David and his wife came here to visit me but only for an hour or so...’
‘A four-hour drive for an hour’s visit seems a little unusual.’
‘Yes, I agree. Look, I’m sorry, sergeant, but by a domestic do you mean that Pam has killed David?’
‘We have arrested Mrs Parker on suspicion of murder, but you don’t seem too surprised at that.’ The sergeant was picking up on every nuance of Joe’s answers. There wasn’t time to think through what to tell him, he’d just have to tell the truth.
‘The thing is, I’m actually recovering from a recent accident, well no, it wasn’t an accident. I think there’s something you should know about my brother...’
CHAPTER 23
Rosie took Hannah to collect her mobility car and, after a brief lesson from the mechanic at the garage, her friend sat with Hannah while she drove for the first time since the accident. It wasn’t easy but the desire to regain her independence spurred her on, to be able to ferry her children around once more and for them to rely on her rather than the other way around was her goal. Rosie encouraged and applauded her, insisting that they drove on the motorway, although not yet to the site of the accident, and it paid off.
After over an hour, Hannah’s confidence returned and she began to enjoy the feeling of being in control, even if the actual driving was different from what she was used to. She liked the car and found it easy to manage and had to admit that it was going to make her life so much easier, especially as she was back working full time again. Her car had been essential to her before the accident, but now that her mobility was impaired it was even more crucial; using a bus was now an impractical option, as walking to and from bus stops was difficult and even painful at times. Hannah would enjoy her regained self-sufficiency; it was one step more to living a ‘normal’ life again.
One of the first places Hannah visited in her new car was a solicitor’s office. With more than a little reluctance, Hannah had engaged the services of a local firm who had been recommended to her. She’d begun to accept that her marriage was over for good and there was no reason for her to contest the divorce. Mike was never coming back and she didn’t want to be stubborn simply out of spite.
Hannah found a parking space with relative ease, just a short walk from the solicitor’s office, which was housed in an old Victorian building, carved up into commercial units. Thankfully, Ms Emily Cowan had her office on the ground floor. As Hannah was early, she perched uncomfortably on one of the plastic bucket seats to await her appointment, listening to the high-pitched sing-song voice of the receptionist repeating the same sentence to every caller.
Eventually, Emily Cowan appeared in the doorway and invited Hannah into her office. A plush chair and air conditioning greeted her, a welcome relief on such a hot day. Emily Cowan was younger than Hannah had expected, mid-thirties she would guess, and she had rather pinched features, but her smile softened the effect.
‘Now then, Mrs Graham, I believe your husband has filed for divorce?’
Emily Cowan opened the conversation and got straight to the point. Hannah was relieved; Rosie had spent the last evening drumming instructions into her, the most important was to be succinct as solicitors charged by the hour and she was warned not to waste time with chit chat.
Hannah fumbled in her bag for Mike’s solicitor’s letter and handed it over. Emily Cowan skimmed the page and put it to one side, on top of a manila file — Hannah’s divorce file.
‘It’s pretty standard. As your husband admits to an affair it should be a straightforward case. Have you got your marriage certificate with you?’
‘Oh, no, I never thought...’
‘Well, if you could drop it into the office some time?’
‘Yes, of course, sorry.’ Hannah then listened to her solicitor outlining the process, and wondered how many times she had done this before. What a depressingly sad job. When it came to the matter of joint property and the financial settlement, Hannah explained that she didn’t want to ask for any more than what was reasonable. Mike had his new partner and a baby to consider and she was earning a good wage.
Emily Cowan looked up from her notes to stare at her new client, one eyebrow raised, and a look of surprise. She then commenced a little speech, one which she’d probably used several times before, about how Mike had had nearly twenty years of Hannah’s life, she had looked after him and their children, and now he was discarding her, with no more thought than if she was an old newspaper.
Hannah squirmed, feeling like a naughty schoolgirl but as she listened, she became increasingly irritated. This woman didn’t know what her marriage had been like; surely divorces were not ‘one size fits all’, were they?
‘Actually, I know all the clichés, the best years of my life and so forth, but this is how I want it to be, civilized, and I’d rather err on being generous, so that our children have a good example and don’t see their parents fighting over money.’
Why did everyone think life was all about money? Hannah had enough for her needs and always considered herself fortunate. Her dignity was more important than getting what she could from a settlement.
‘That’s fine then.’ Emily Cowan’s features again softened and she abandoned the stock speech. ‘You’re the client and I’m happy to do whatever you wish.’
The air had been cleared and Hannah remained only long enough to answer all the necessary questions which would allow her solicitor to respond to the petition, then she left, promising to drop in the marriage certificate the next day.