‘Get away!’ screams Katie, as she rushes forward.
Nathan doesn’t move, but the figure on the other side of the glass does, jumping back and almost tumbling down the rickety wooden stairs that lead up from the garden, revealing the object in his hand to be a pair of garden shears. The fear and tension instantly flood out of Nathan, a change so dramatic and so sudden that he very nearly drops to his knees. In its place is something unexpected, and equally strong. Disappointment. He knows that this could so easily have been the end, for him or for the case. Either way it would have been fine. Just a day ago he’d have wanted to wait for the perfect moment. Now it would be enough to know his worst nightmare hasn’t come true.
He reaches forward and unlocks the glass door, pulling it open.
‘Are you okay, Mr Markham?’
Nathan had remained on the pavement the last time they’d met, peering over the low white wall at the front of the garden, resisting all requests to step onto the property. The old man doesn’t seem to have changed at all in the five years since. He has the same close-cropped grey hair receding to the crown, the same small, dark eyes hidden behind thick-rimmed glasses, the same narrow lips, topped by a straggly grey moustache, the same hollow cheeks, tanned and weathered. Even his clothes are as Nathan remembers them: a blue checked shirt, rolled up to the elbows and a pair of pale brown corduroys, for ever dirty on the knees.
‘I’m so sorry, sir,’ he says in a strong Northern accent – Yorkshire, from what Nathan recalls of their rare and brief conversations. ‘I didn’t mean to startle you. I was down the other end of the garden, and I thought I saw movement inside. Then the light came on and… well, I were going to call the police.’
‘No need,’ says Nathan, managing a smile and directing an arm towards Katie. ‘This is Detective Inspector Rhodes.’
‘Nice to meet you, lassie,’ says Mr Markham, holding a hand out towards Katie, before spotting the dirt coating his fingers and withdrawing it quickly. ‘Detective, you say?’ The gardener hesitates and looks down at his shoes, old brown brogues as filthy as his hands. ‘Of course, it’s none of my business.’
‘Nathan and I are friends,’ says Katie with a smile.
The comment causes Nathan to smile too, albeit briefly.
‘Have you had any trouble with people trying to break in?’ she adds casually, looking out at the huge walled garden, a square of immaculate lawn surrounded by roses, hydrangeas and various other plants the names of which slipped Nathan’s mind the very moment his mum taught them to him.
‘No, ma’am. I’m only here once a week, mind, but I do keep an eye out and check all windows and doors are locked.’ He glances across at Nathan, seeming a little embarrassed. ‘I know it’s not my role to pry, but I thought…’
‘Thank you,’ says Nathan. ‘You’ve been doing a brilliant job. Mum was so passionate about this garden, and would have loved what you’ve done. In fact, I haven’t increased your wages while I’ve been away, have I?’ He taps his pockets as if his wallet might be in there. There’s no cash. No wallet. Nothing in his trousers. They’re not even his trousers. ‘I’ll make sure to do that as soon as I get the chance.’
Another look of embarrassment crosses Mr Markham’s face, and he lifts his hand to rub the back of his head. ‘Thank you, sir. But that really isn’t necessary. You and your brother—’ He cuts himself off, a filthy hand part-rising to his mouth. ‘You’ve always been very kind.’
Nathan shoots a quick look at Katie, and her surprise alongside a flash of anger confirms that she hasn’t done her research and knows nothing of his family.
‘You deserve it,’ he says. ‘I’m only sorry I haven’t been able to appreciate the garden myself.’ He smiles and hopes the man in front of him will relax, but if anything his discomfort appears to be growing. ‘Is there something wrong?’
‘No, sir,’ he answers quickly. ‘No. It’s just…’ He starts to rub the top of his head.
‘You can tell me. Do please tell me.’
‘It is Nathan, isn’t it?’ he says, finally managing a smile. ‘Not Christian?’
Another look across at Katie, and this time her confusion is expected. ‘Of course.’
‘Then I must have got it round the wrong way. Or misheard. My wife always used to say I’d had too much sun. I guess it’s why I chose gardening and not driving a bus or the like.’ He smiles again, a broad smile, but still with a trace of discomfort.
‘Have I said the wrong thing?’ he asks, desperately trying to run through what he has said in search of his mistake.
‘Not the wrong thing, sir,’ says the gardener, lowering his head again, both hands now fumbling with the shears down by his waist. ‘The same thing.’
Nathan’s heartbeat starts to rise, his fears already well ahead of his thoughts, thoughts he’s so desperately trying to restrain. ‘I’m sorry?’
‘About the garden. And your mother. And about raising my salary. Which is very kind, and I’m not trying to be rude, sir, and I wouldn’t have mentioned it at all, but…’
Nathan takes a small step back, as if the space might give him room to breathe. It’s true he hasn’t done much talking, and there’s no chance he could recount word for word what he’s said in the last few minutes, but he knows he’s only said it once. And then there’s that fear, growing, sharpening, slicing through his defences. He turns to Katie, as if she might be able to protect him, to offer an explanation other than the one he can no longer avoid. ‘Did you catch any of our conversation?’
‘Enough,’ she snaps, clearly angry at the information he’d failed to share.
Nathan turns back to the gardener, taking in his age, the potential for confusion. He’d always put him at around seventy, but he has one of those faces that could easily belong to someone ten years older.
‘The lassie weren’t in the house before, was she?’ asks Mr Markham, leaning in through the window to get a better look.
‘Right over there,’ says Nathan, aware that the curtains must have blocked his view of her a few minutes earlier.
‘Oh, right,’ he nods. ‘Only, you said you couldn’t bear to go in there. I guess I just assumed nobody was. That’s why I wasn’t expecting to see anyone in there today. Why I came rushing across.’
Now it’s Katie’s turn to do the same; she appears at Nathan’s shoulder, almost barging him out of the way. ‘Today? You mean somebody was here before? Somebody who looks like Nathan?’