Chapter 36 Ash
Ash
NOW
The first Ash hears of it is on Heart North Devon radio.
It’s the main news story. He’s driving home from work, brain-dead after a bad night’s sleep followed by a tedious day of meetings, conference calls, emails and an unusually high number of complaints from irate customers, and he nearly ploughs into the back of the car in front of him when he hears the newsreader’s opening sentence:
‘The man arrested in connection with the murder of eighteen-year-old Joshua Knoll has died in police custody.’
Ash turns up the volume and listens attentively to the rest of the bulletin, making an effort to concentrate on the road at the same time.
‘Harry Tomlinson, an early career teacher at South Lydacombe, an independent secondary school on the edge of Exmoor, was found dead in his cell this morning,’ the presenter continues. ‘He is thought to have had a previously undetected heart condition.’
The newsreader goes on to recap the circumstances of Joshua’s murder, but there’s no more about Tomlinson himself.
Ash turns off the radio. He’s reeling, his mind spinning with questions.
What does this mean for them? For Iris? Is this good or bad news?
Ash feels only a tiny pang of guilt for instantly thinking of his own family without considering the impact of this young man’s untimely death on his loved ones.
Roly had told him that Tomlinson was a ‘shady hallion’ and a ‘bad article’. Ash had got the gist.
He tries to think it through. It would have been far better if he’d been convicted – or if he’d at least confessed – before his heart packed in.
Ash doesn’t believe Tomlinson killed Joshua Knoll for a second, but perhaps now everyone will assume he did.
In which case, with a bit of luck, Tomlinson can take the fall and this whole nightmare will finally be over for Iris, even if the real killer remains at large.
He looks at the dashboard clock. He’d like to call Carla, but she’ll be busy right now with the kids and Dandruff.
Ash refuses to refer to them as Carla’s family, even in his own head, because he feels that he himself is part of Carla’s family.
You had your chance, Ash. You blew it. Anyway, Carla needs to patch things up with Dandruff, which means Ash needs to take a step back, give them some space.
So instead of calling Carla, he makes a slight detour to call in at Roly’s, although he’s not sure if Roly will be home yet.
As luck would have it, Roly is outside, leaning against the front door, vaping. Ash parks the car and strides up the driveway.
‘A step in the right direction, right?’ Roly says, waving the e-cigarette at Ash as he approaches.
‘Why didn’t you tell me?’
‘That I was quitting fags?’
‘No, you moron! That Tomlinson had kicked the bucket.’
‘Check your phone much, do you?’
‘Not while I’m working, no.’
Ash has two phones – one for work; one for friends and family.
Carla and the kids are the only people who have both numbers.
Ash has never been into social media or played games like Candy Crush.
His phone has never been glued to his hand.
He spends far too much time as it is in front of a computer screen at work; he doesn’t feel like downgrading to a phone screen at the end of the day.
He spends a lot of time with his laptop in the evenings as well, checking for Iris’s video.
He pulls his personal mobile out of the inside pocket of his jacket.
A missed call and a text from Roly. Same from Carla.
He glances at one text, then the other – both about Tomlinson, predictably – clicks off the silent mode and pockets the phone.
He’ll text Carla later and tell her to call him when she’s free.
‘Is what they’re saying true?’ Ash asks. ‘That he died in his cell?’
‘Yes. The post-mortem confirmed it. Dilated cardiomyopathy.’
‘What’s that in layman’s terms?’ Ash asks.
‘Some sort of disease of the heart muscle, apparently.’
‘So, what happens next?’
‘There will be an inquiry.’
That’s not what Ash meant. He meant what happened next for his family. For Iris. ‘Oh, God. I hadn’t thought about that. You won’t get into any trouble, will you?’
‘Not me, personally, no. But I think we’re all in the clear on this one. Tomlinson didn’t declare any health problems. No one could have foreseen he might, you know, die.’
‘Don’t suppose he confessed with his dying breath, did he?’ There’s no hope whatsoever in Ash’s voice.
‘Sorry, mate.’
‘So what happens now?’
Roly shrugs and vapes at the same time. It looks comical and Ash might have laughed if they’d been talking about something more trivial.
‘Dunno,’ Roly says. ‘It’s not my case anymore, as you know. I hope this is the end of it and that things will go back to normal.’
Ash isn’t sure he knows what normal looks like anymore. ‘You think he was guilty?’
‘Honestly? No, I don’t. He was a waste of good air, though. He might not have been a killer, but he was definitely a paedo. Not the sort of bloke you want teaching your daughter.’
‘Oh, God, that’s right. He was Millie’s physics teacher, wasn’t he? What did she think about him?’
‘She thought he was creepy as fuck, although she didn’t put it quite like that. Plus, Tomlinson admitted to going for a wander in the woods from time to time. And he vented his strong dislike for Joshua Knoll in his diary. Fancy a cold one?’
‘Do you even need to ask?’
Ash follows Roly inside and into the kitchen.
It turns out Roly hasn’t stocked any beer in his fridge or even bought any lager to stock it with.
Something to do with giving up cigarettes, although Ash doesn’t get what that has to do with beer.
So instead of swigging lager out of a bottle, as they would usually do, they each pour a can of IPA into a glass and add ice cubes.
Ash takes a gulp. ‘So, more of a lukewarm one, then,’ he comments, grimacing. The Rowlands’ swanky new kitchen is so white he hardly dares to set his glass down in case it leaves a stain or he knocks it over. ‘No one else at home?’
‘Millie’s at a friend’s and Jo’s at her Zumba class. Some peace and quiet for a bit.’
Ash has far more peace and quiet than he would like.
It’s one of the things he loves when he pops in at Crooked Oak Cottage – the noise.
It’s not noisy, it’s just comforting. Homely.
Carla’s music – Ash isn’t a fan of opera, but he thinks it could grow on him when he hears it there; Iris and Olly’s banter or bickering, depending on their moods; Margo’s non-stop chatter.
Although Dandruff’s discordant humming, not so much.
‘Listen, mate, there’s something else I haven’t told you. It’s about Dandruff.’
Not so much speak of the devil as think of the devil. Was Roly reading his mind? ‘Go on.’
‘Well, he rang me the other day, ostensibly to thank me for my help when Margo went missing, although I didn’t actually do anything.’
When Roly pauses, Ash prompts him. ‘So, what did he really want?’
‘He said he wanted to talk to me about the case … the Joshua Knoll case. He said he didn’t want to cause any trouble. He implied he might have some information.’ Ash splutters on his IPA. ‘He was beating around the bush.’
‘Like you’re doing now.’
‘Right. Sorry. He mentioned Iris and some shoes that ended up in the bin. I told him he wasn’t making any sense. In the end, he just asked me to forget he’d called. I didn’t get a chance to tell him I wasn’t on the case anymore.’
Was Dandruff going to dob Iris in? That’s what it sounds like.
He knew Carla had confided in Dandruff about something.
So it was the shoes, then. Dandruff probably didn’t realize that Roly was the one who had told him about the trainers.
Was Dandruff really going to pass on information to Roly?
After Carla accepted to take him back? The two-faced snake!
Ash could confront him about it, but Dandruff would deny it.
He didn’t actually say anything in the end, by the sound of it, anyway.
Ash has always thought that Carla was way too good for Dandruff; this is the first time he has considered Dandruff to actually be bad for her.
‘What did you say to him?’
‘I told him we’d made a breakthrough in the case, but made out I was telling him in confidence. My colleagues were interviewing your man Tomlinson at the time, but it was going to be in the news anyway.’
‘Thanks, Roly. You did the right thing.’
‘And what are you going to do?’
Ash thinks about this for a moment. ‘Not a lot,’ he admits, feeling helpless, ‘but I’ll keep a close eye on him. Give him a warning, if I get the chance.’
What else can he do? He wants Carla to be happy. Dandruff has moved back in to Crooked Oak Cottage. If he was thinking of telling Roly about the shoes, he has thought better of it. Ash is going to have to give him the benefit of the doubt. Even if there’s no doubt at all in Ash’s mind.
He has drunk as much of the IPA as he can bear, so he decides to make a move. ‘Thanks for the chat and the beer,’ he says, handing Roly the glass and getting to his feet. ‘Thanks for everything, Roly.’
When he gets home, Ash puts on a wash and some alternative rock, then showers and changes into jeans and a sweatshirt.
Despite the music, it seems quieter than ever at Mayflower Farm.
He fires off a text to Carla, goes into the kitchen and opens the fridge.
He pulls out some leftovers – peri-peri chicken – which he heats up in the microwave.
When he has finished eating, he checks for Iris’s video on the web, but today, for the first time, he doesn’t find it. His fingers intertwined, he leans back in his office chair and smiles. It’s all dying down. At last. With a bit of luck, Roly’s right. Things will soon go back to normal.
Ash is dozing off on the sofa in front of a documentary about Captain Tom and his family when Carla rings. He sits up and grabs his phone, suddenly wide awake.
‘Hey,’ she says when he answers. That one syllable alone is enough to make his heart skip a beat.
They talk about Tomlinson’s death. Carla heard about it from Jo.
‘How’s Iris?’ Ash asks.
‘She hasn’t said much,’ Carla replies. ‘I think, like us, she doesn’t really know what to make of this … development.’
‘Dand … Dan … iel there, is he?’ As much as Ash hates to think of Dandruff there, in his house, he doesn’t want Carla to be alone to process all of this.
‘Yes, he’s reading with Margo.’
Ash can hear the smile in her voice, but he doesn’t know if it’s because he called her partner by his name or because her partner has come back home. Ash hopes Dandruff had his tail between his legs, but he wouldn’t dream of saying this.
‘And how’s Margo?’
‘OK. Good of you to ask. Incredibly resilient, kids, aren’t they?’
He senses she’s keeping something from him. ‘Go on,’ he prompts her. ‘Out with it.’
‘I had Margo tested for Rohypnol at the hospital, you know, the date-rape drug?’
‘Seriously? Why—?’
‘Anyway, the tests came back negative. But I think Yvonne knows more than she’s letting on.’
‘I got that impression, too. At the hospital.’
‘Yes. You said. I think her sons – Jordan and Jasper – drugged Margo, and Yvonne kept Margo at Hilltop House for as long as possible in the hope that the drug would wear off and be eliminated from her system.’
‘Was Margo … did she …?’ Ash can’t finish his sentence. Christ, Ash. Make an effort. Try and be more articulate.
But, as usual, Carla has read his mind. ‘No. No signs of sexual abuse,’ she says. ‘I think those two budding juvenile delinquents must just have wanted to have a laugh. Or to see what the drug did. God only knows how they got hold of it.’
‘What made you think Margo was drugged in the first place?’ His tone has no hint of incredulity. If Carla’s convinced Margo was drugged, then she was. Ash doesn’t question her judgement for a moment.
‘Well, Margo was lethargic, dizzy, complained of a headache, couldn’t remember what had happened. Actually, Iris was the one who suggested it. She said there was a lot of Rohypnol about, even out here in the middle of nowhere. She also said one of her friends had been drugged.’
‘One of her friends? Is that what she said?’
‘Yes, I think so … No, hang on. Iris said it happened to someone she knew.’
His heart sputters as Carla’s words replay in his head. Iris said it happened to someone she knew. And then Ash recalls Olly’s words, from the conversation they had the last time his son stayed over, here at Mayflower Farm. Just some guy at a party.
‘Ash? Ash? Are you still there?’
‘Yes, sorry, Carla. I’m still here.’
‘What’s going on?’
‘I think I might …’ Ash pauses, runs the fingers of his free hand through his hair. Has he put two and two together and made five? ‘I’m not sure, but I may know who Iris meant.’