Murder... Now and Then by Jill McGown Page B

o’clock when he at last heard footsteps on the stair.
    He pushed himself away from the wall as Anna made her way up towards him. She looked terrible; her face was drawn with fatigue and worry, her eyes dark and dull as she came up to him. ‘What the hell are you doing here?’ she asked, the words slurring.
    â€˜I needed somewhere to go,’ he said. ‘I couldn’t go home. I thought you’d be here – I saw you leave.’
    She frowned, and rumbled with the key in the lock as she opened the door. ‘I didn’t see you,’ she said. ‘I thought it must have been you at the door.’
    He frowned. ‘What door?’ he said.
    â€˜The door,’ she said. ‘The flat door. Victor’s door.’
    She had had a great deal to drink. Max followed her into the flat. ‘Did you drive in that condition?’ he asked.
    â€˜Yes,’ she said, throwing the keys down on the table. ‘I drove in this condition. Wasn’t that wicked of me?’
    She went straight to the table where she kept the drinks, and held the bottle up in enquiry.
    He shook his head. He had never found solace in alcohol, and by the look of Anna as she tossed back the brandy she had poured herself, she wasn’t finding much either.
    â€˜Why couldn’t you go home?’ she asked. ‘And why did you behave as though your wife wasn’t there when she fainted?’
    â€˜Because I knew why she’d fainted,’ he said.
    Anna frowned. ‘ Why?’
    â€˜She was scared to death,’ he said.
    â€˜What of?’
    â€˜Me. And Zelda wouldn’t take me home. She and Geraldine thought I might kill her – I make a habit of that, you know.’ He sank down on to the sofa. ‘I don’t know what to do, Anna.’
    Anna stared at him, still frowning. ‘Why didn’t you use your own car? You’ve not been drinking.’
    He sighed. ‘It’s a long story,’ he said.
    â€˜You had a row last night?’ she asked, pouring herself another brandy, joining him on the sofa.
    â€˜Yes,’ said Max. How like Catherine to think that if she didn’t tell him that Holyoak was her stepfather, the problem would just go away. That bit at least made sense. None of the rest of it did.
    â€˜Victor’s told her about us,’ she said.
    â€˜It doesn’t matter,’ said Max, and watched her for a moment as she drank. ‘What’s that all about?’ he asked, touching the glass as he spoke.
    â€˜Victor.’ She looked over the rim of the glass at him. ‘ I told him to stuff his job tonight.’ She drank some more. ‘And I think perhaps I wasn’t very clever,’ she said.
    For a moment, Max’s own insurmountable problems took a back seat as he became intrigued by hers. If problems were insurmountable, then all you could do was leave them alone. Hers must be easier to handle. ‘Why did you do that?’ he asked. ‘You were singing his praises to that policeman.’
    â€˜Well, I’m not now.’ She poured herself another hefty measure, lifting her glass in a sardonic toast. ‘Don’t you think you should ring your wife or something?’ she asked. ‘This isn’t like you, Max.’
    Max didn’t know what to do. He didn’t think he had the courage. He didn’t understand what was happening. He felt as though he didn’t know her any more.
    â€˜She was in a bad way, Max,’ she said. ‘And you just abandoned her. That’s not like you. I wouldn’t like to think I’d caused that.’
    â€˜You didn’t,’ he said. ‘It had nothing to do with you.’ He drew the phone towards him, dialling the number, waiting long enough for her to come from the other end of the street. ‘Did you get into trouble because of me?’ he asked Anna, as the phone rang out.
    â€˜Not really,’ she said. ‘It was my own