Matt nodded abruptly. ‘Yes, because they thought there would be a conflict of loyalties. Isn’t that right? Don’t they give that as the reason? You don’t really understand it, though, do you? To you, it’s just procedure, a form of words, all written down in the rule book. To me, loyalty is very real.’
‘Okay.’
‘So you see, you’re going to have to trust me. If you can’t do that, Ben, it’s just tough.’
‘Matt, it’s not a problem.’
‘Good.’
‘So what did you notice about the Pearsons?’
Matt reacted with a clumsy jerk, as if he’d been expecting the question and had tried to rehearse his response. He’d never been a good actor. Ben remembered him being cast as one of the Three Wise Men in their school nativity play, presenting his myrrh to the Baby Jesus like a robot handling a suspicious package. Wooden didn’t quite express it.
‘What sort of people were they?’ asked Ben. ‘Do you remember?’
‘Well, they weren’t noisy or anything. They kept themselves to themselves mostly. Though there did seem to be …’
Ben looked up at the hesitation, saw from his brother’s face that Matt was trying to assemble unfamiliar thoughts and fit them to appropriate words.
‘There seemed to be what, Matt?’
‘I was going to say, there seemed to be a bit of an atmosphere between them. That’s it.’
‘An atmosphere.’
‘Yes.’
Ben frowned. ‘Between David and Trisha? You mean they’d had an argument?’
‘They weren’t speaking to each other much. Just like when you’ve had a row. You know what I mean?’
‘Yes, I know.’
‘That’s what caused the atmosphere.’
‘So you think they’d been arguing. Just from the atmosphere.’
‘Yes.’
‘The atmosphere,’ repeated Ben.
‘Why do you keep saying it?’
‘Oh, just trying to take it in.’
‘Like I say, they’d been arguing. You could tell from the way they spoke to each other, their expressions when they looked at each other, the way they sat. Their body language, if you want.’
‘Their body language? Really?’
Matt began to look sullen. ‘Well that’s what you asked me for, my impressions. I can’t say any more. If you don’t like it, it’s tough.’
‘Oh no,’ said Ben. ‘That’s great. I love it.’
Cooper turned the Toyota carefully in the farmyard, and bumped his way back up the track towards the road.
Now that he thought about it, he seemed to remember that the Light House had served Robinson’s, one of his favourite beers. He could practically taste it now. They did a strong ale that tasted of ripe malt and peppery hops, with a colour like cherry brandy. Old Tom, it was called. Some beers were seasonal and only came out for Christmas, but Old Tom had been going for ever. It wasn’t a Derbyshire ale, though. It came from just over there to the west, from what used to be Cheshire.
Cooper wondered how many pints of Old Tom he’d sunk that night in the Light House. It made him cringe to think how much he used to drink back then, especially if he was in company like the Young Farmers or the rugby club. Matt could put a few away too.
And that made him wonder. If he’d been a little too drunk himself to remember what had gone off, how capable was everyone else? How sober had his brother been? Not sober at all, surely. Matt wasn’t the most observant of people at the best of times. Particularly not in a social situation. He might be able to tell from half a mile off which of the ewes in his field were ready to lamb, but he didn’t notice much about people. If a friend hadn’t introduced them in the most blatant manner possible, Matt would never have been aware that he’d clicked with Kate. In emotional matters, he was like a slow old bull who had to be prodded into action.
So why would he have come to any conclusions at all about the relationship between David and Trisha Pearson? Matt wasn’t the type who sat in a pub watching the other customers for his own entertainment. He kept his eyes on his beer glass, and talked only to people he knew. If he found himself on his own, he’d study a copy of
‘No, that’s wrong,’ said Ben out loud. ‘That wasn’t Matt speaking. He’s been coached.’
Later, when he was looking for a reason to explain what happened next, he decided that must have been it. He had been too absorbed with his thoughts about Matt.
At least that was the reason he gave himself — the reason why he didn’t notice he was being followed.
Diane Fry still had her old flat in Grosvenor Road, deep in student bedsit land. It was a place that had never felt like home. It never would do, no matter how long she stayed in Edendale. But she wouldn’t be here much longer. As soon as she was settled with EMSOU — MC, she’d be moving out. Somewhere much nearer to Nottingham. That, she promised herself.