Til Death Do Us Part

Alice braced herself for yet another revelation. ‘Why were you arrested before?’

Ben screwed up his face, clearly unsure how to spin this chapter in his life. ‘I was accused of something I didn’t do by a malicious woman I’d been seeing. She saw me as an opportunity to make some quick money and when I wanted to leave her she started firing all sorts of accusations at me. She went to the police and told them a pack of lies, and before I realized what was happening, they’d brought me in for questioning. The solicitor they provided told me to keep my mouth shut until he knew what evidence they thought they had against me, and he was as surprised as I was when they charged me.’

Alice reached out for the edge of the desk as her left leg buckled, and she just about managed to stay upright. ‘How could you keep something like that from me?’

Ben quickly moved across and took her arm to support her. ‘I know none of this can be easy to hear, and if I’d had my way you never would have found out.’

Her mouth dropped. ‘Do the vows we exchanged mean nothing to you? I’ve not kept any secrets from you. I’m an open book, and now I’m beginning to question everything I know about you.’

‘I’m still the same man you fell in love with. I swear I’m not keeping anything else from you. That period of my life isn’t something I’m comfortable thinking about, let alone discussing openly.’

‘Who else knows about your previous arrest? Does Dave know?’

Initially, Ben looked like he might deny it, but clearly thought better of it, and nodded. ‘He was there for me, and he knew it was all a pack of lies, as this nonsense is. I swear to you, Alice, I’m the man you’ve always known, and my feelings for you are stronger than ever. You asked about our vows. I meant every declaration I made at that altar. I will live up to every one of those promises, for better or worse, in sickness and in health; till death do us part.’

Something niggled at the back of Alice’s mind. ‘If you weren’t convicted of anything, why do they still have your DNA sample on record? I thought the police were only allowed to retain DNA samples when suspects were convicted.’

‘So did I, but my solicitor told me this morning that because the last case reached court, they are allowed to retain the sample. I’m going to get my solicitor to fight for my sample to be destroyed. They shouldn’t be allowed to ruin people’s lives like this.’

She continued to watch him, feeling an invisible wall growing between them. It was like she was no longer looking at the man she’d exchanged rings with. He was a shadow of his former self. Like in some trashy soap opera when the protagonist’s evil twin brother turns up and tricks the rest of the cast into thinking he’s the other brother. It looked and sounded like Ben, but the Ben she knew and loved wouldn’t have deceived her like this.

‘About our honeymoon. I think you should still go. It seems silly for us both to miss out on the trip. My solicitor should get this all sorted in a day or so and then I’ll book the next flight to join you.’

Her eyes widened. ‘I’m not going on our honeymoon on my own!’

Ben took her hands in his. ‘I know it isn’t ideal – God knows it isn’t ideal – but I know how much you were looking forward to going to Barbados. If we cancel I don’t think the travel insurance company will pay out. I don’t give a stuff about the money, but it would be silly to cancel the trip and then I get my passport back a couple of days later. You could fly out tonight and get the lay of the land, and then I’ll join you for the last ten or so days. We can still have our honeymoon, I’ll just be late to the party.’

She looked into his eyes, his beautiful brown eyes, matching his hair colour so perfectly, and so full of love. ‘That’s just it, Ben: it’s supposed to be our honeymoon. Going there without you won’t feel right.’

‘What if I paid for Tara to go with you until I’m able to join? We can speak to each other every day until I can get a flight out, and when I arrive Tara can head home. I don’t want you to miss out. You start back at school in a couple of weeks, and if you don’t go on this break, it could be months until we get another chance.’

It was typical of Ben to think that throwing money at the problem would fix it, but as much as she wanted to enjoy their honeymoon in the Caribbean, it now felt tainted, along with the rest of their wedding.

He must have sensed her reticence. ‘If I can’t convince you to go, then we’ll cancel the trip and rebook somewhere for Christmas. You get a couple of weeks off. We can do New York, or Vegas, or even Barbados again. Wherever you want. Money is no object. We will have our honeymoon, it’ll just be a bit delayed. It’s up to you. I’ll agree with whichever choice you make.’

Staring into those beautiful brown eyes, she felt the frost in her heart slowly start to thaw. Resting her hand on his cheek, she pulled his face into hers and kissed him, stopping only when there was a knock at the door.

‘I’ll send whoever it is away,’ he said, pulling away and moving to the door. As he opened it, though, his parents pushed into the room, and Alice knew he wouldn’t have the heart to dismiss them.

Ben’s mum hugged him tightly. ‘Dave said you were back. Are you okay? Did they hurt you? Is it all over?’

His cheeks reddened. ‘I’m fine, Mum. Are you two okay? You don’t know how sorry I am about what happened yesterday.’ Ben’s eyes met Alice’s. ‘They ruined the day.’

Ben’s dad, Ray, strode across the room, still dressed for the wedding, and hugged Alice. ‘How are you holding up, love?’

It was all she could to blink away the sudden onrush of emotion. ‘I’m okay,’ she whispered.

Ben and his mum moved away from the door and joined them by the desk.

‘I can’t believe they’ve messed everything up again,’ Hermione said. ‘They can’t just go around pointing fingers willy-nilly. Someone should have a word. They almost messed up your chance of going to university last time, and now this on your wedding day. It isn’t right!’

So that meant Ben’s parents had known about his previous arrest, and hadn’t thought to mention it to her on any of the occasions she’d seen them. It shouldn’t have surprised her that they would know, but that didn’t make it hurt any less that she had been excluded from the big family secret.

‘You ought to sue them,’ Hermione continued. ‘That would make them think twice about trying to frame you for things you haven’t done. Although actually, it wouldn’t surprise me if that woman was somehow behind all of this.’

‘Now now,’ Ray soothed, putting his arm around his wife’s waist. ‘I’m sure yesterday had nothing to do with all that.’ His eyes flickered with doubt, and he looked to Ben for reassurance. ‘It isn’t anything to do with all that, is it?’

Ben shook his head. ‘No, no, this was something different. Apparently, me and my friends were the last people to see the girl before she was murdered, and so they put two and two together and ended up with me as the answer.’

‘Whatever happened to innocent until proven guilty?’ Hermione retorted.

‘Can we do anything?’ Ray asked. ‘Do you need anything? A lift to the airport?’

Ben wrinkled his nose in distaste. ‘Looks like we’re going to have to postpone the honeymoon for now. The police have my passport and want me to stick around in case I can provide any further help with their enquiries. I’ve told them everything I remember about that night, but they were the grounds on which they released me,’ he added with a disappointed sigh.

Alice remained in silence, watching the three of them speak dismissively of the police and their involvement in ruining the big day. What they failed to acknowledge through all of their anger was that ultimately an innocent woman had lost her life. Yes it was frustrating that the police had chosen such an inopportune moment to locate Ben, but their intention wasn’t to spoil the wedding; they’d been charged with getting a murderer off the streets. For all she and Ben knew, this Kerry Valentine had family who were grieving her loss, and the frustrations of yesterday evening paled into insignificance against that.

‘I need some air,’ Alice suddenly said, cutting off Ben mid-sentence.

‘Of course, of course,’ Ray said, shuffling his wife towards the door. ‘I’m sure the two of you have a lot to talk about. We should make ourselves scarce, but if there’s anything you need – either of you – don’t hesitate to phone.’ He directed his attention to Alice. ‘Remember, you’re family now, and nothing is too much to ask. Okay?’

Alice forced herself to smile in acknowledgement and went out on to the balcony, sucking in deep breaths as Ben showed his parents to the door.

She heard the door close, followed by Ben dropping to the bed. ‘You know the worst part of all this is the effect it’s had on you. I mean, spending the night in that cell was horrible – really sobering – and then being quizzed for three straight hours this morning, but all I keep reliving is that look on your face when they put the cuffs on my wrists. It kills me that they ruined our big day, a day you’d spent so long organizing.’

Alice looked over at the beautiful green lawn and lake, a view she had fallen in love with when they’d picked this venue, but which now just served as a reminder of what could have been.

‘Can we get out of here?’ she asked. ‘I just want to put all of this behind us as quickly as possible.’

‘Sure,’ Ben said. ‘Let’s pack our stuff and check out. Then I will spend the rest of the day proving to you how important you are to me.’

She turned to face him. ‘Just promise me one thing: no more secrets.’

He immediately agreed, but she couldn’t ignore the feeling that her nightmare was only just beginning.

TWELVE

The main reception desk in the grand lobby of Old Mill Lodge had the look and feel of living history; the thick varnish and ornate carvings were clearly made a time long ago. As Alice patiently waited in line for the checkout queue to process, she couldn’t help but wonder about the range of people who had passed through the hotel over the years, each with their own story and reason for staying in the grand building. How many of the brides and grooms who’d celebrated their nuptials in the same room as she and Ben were still happily married? She’d bet none had had their ceremony interrupted in quite the same way.

Ben had acquired a luggage trolley from somewhere and was busy transporting their luggage and stack of gifts down to the large taxi he had ordered. Although it had taken months of visiting different venues before she’d chosen this one, she wouldn’t now care if she never laid eyes on the hotel again.

The elderly couple ahead of Alice moved to the front of the queue and began to explain their enquiry to the young lady behind the desk. Olive-skinned and with jet black hair, the receptionist spoke with an accent Alice couldn’t place, but her grasp of English was as strong as any native.

‘It’s so inherently British, isn’t it?’ the man behind her commented.

Alice turned and looked at the man in the tan suit and red tie, smiling in her direction. He was alone with a small blue holdall at his feet.

‘Excuse me?’ Alice asked.

‘Queuing,’ he confirmed. ‘There’s nothing us Brits like quite as much as a queue, is there? I mean, on a day as glorious as this, when we should be embracing nature at her finest, we choose to stand in a stuffy room in an orderly manner.’ He smiled warmly. ‘I’m sorry, it always makes me laugh. This sort of thing just doesn’t happen in other countries.’

Alice politely smiled back. ‘No, I suppose you’re right. At least we’re nearly at the front.’

‘Are you checking in or out?’

‘Out,’ she said, smiling again.

‘Ah, well, did you happen to dine in the hotel’s restaurant last night? I’m looking for recommendations of where I can get a nice piece of sirloin for my supper.’

Alice forced a thin smile. ‘We didn’t eat here last night, I’m afraid.’

‘Not to worry,’ he continued, a mischievous look on his face. ‘Here, you weren’t at the wedding where the groom was arrested, were you?’

Shock went through her. ‘How did you hear about that?’

‘I overheard one of the staff talking about it. Were you there then?’

She nodded, and subconsciously covered her wedding ring with her right hand.

‘Oh, how awful,’ he continued. ‘The poor bride. Probably the last thing she expected to happen. Can you imagine how awful that would be? Just tied the knot and then learning that your husband is a murderer?’

Alice had to bite her tongue to keep quiet, and took a second glance towards the elderly couple in front who were still chatting away to the woman behind the counter.

‘I wonder if maybe she already knew,’ the man mused. ‘I mean, that’s what they say, isn’t it? Spouses always know deep down when their partner is up to no good. They might claim innocence, but it’s like a sixth sense, isn’t it? Are you friends of the couple, then?’ His cheeks suddenly reddened. ‘Heavens, have I spoken out of turn? You’re not related to one of them, are you?’

‘Sort of, but I won’t take offence.’

His cheeks were now glowing. ‘You’ll have to forgive me, I’m always putting my foot in it. Please accept my apologies.’

‘It’s fine,’ she said as casually as her bubbling anger would allow.

If the hotel staff were gossiping about the incident, it was possible the story could leak to the press, and the last thing she and Ben needed was their privacy to be trampled on, particularly as the police still hadn’t officially ruled Ben out of their inquiry.

‘Are you related to the bride or groom?’ the stranger pressed.

‘Bride,’ she said, still not prepared to tell him it was her horrid nightmare he’d just described.

‘How’s she coping? Have they said if or when the husband will be released from prison?’

‘I’m sorry,’ she said abruptly, ‘but I’d rather not talk about it. I think they should just be left to their privacy.’

‘Of course, of course, and far be it for me to be a spreader of idle gossip. Have you known them long?’

The couple in front moved on and the woman behind the counter thanked Alice for her patience and asked how she could help.

‘I’d like to check out please,’ Alice said absently, sliding the key across the desk.

‘You are checking out of the honeymoon suite?’ the receptionist asked.

Alice’s cheeks burned as she nodded, refusing to meet the eye of the suited man who could overhear the entire conversation.

‘How was the wedding? Did everything go as well as you hoped?’

Alice wasn’t ready to even try and answer that question, and simply nodded. ‘It’s a lovely venue.’

‘Was the catering and organization up to scratch?’

Clearly the receptionist hadn’t been working yesterday, and had yet to hear the gossip. Either that or she was doing an incredible job of playing dumb.

‘It was all fine. I’m sorry, can we hurry this up? My husband is waiting for me.’

‘Certainly, madam,’ the receptionist said, standing. ‘I’ll just go and get your receipt and you should be good to go.’ With that she disappeared into the small office behind her.

Alice could see the man straining to make eye contact with her, but she refused to acknowledge him.

He slid a business card across the desk towards her. ‘If you’d like to tell your side of the story, I’m sure we can make it worth your while. Right now, you’ll probably want to throw the offer back in my face, but think about it over the next day or so.’

She looked down at the card for ‘Liam O’Neill, Freelance Journalist’, and felt bile building in the back of her throat. So that’s why he was so interested in the details of the big day. Alice left the card where it was.

‘People will want to hear your story, Alice. I’m sorry if I misled you to begin with. You should know that I’m on your side with this. I don’t really think you knew what your husband was capable of, but to learn about what he’d done on your wedding day, it beggars belief.’ He paused, allowing her to process. ‘The story will get out, as these things do. It’s up to you whether people hear your side of it, or an amalgamation of other eye witness accounts and suppositions. Think about it.’

‘Here’s your receipt,’ the receptionist said, offering the sheet of paper to Alice.

‘All checked out?’ Ben’s voice suddenly said over her shoulder.

Turning, Alice was relieved to see him, and reached for his hand, pulling him closer.

‘Is everything okay?’ he asked. ‘You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.’

She turned back to point out the grubby little journalist, but saw that he had scarpered.

‘It’s nothing,’ she said. ‘Is the car all packed?’

‘Yep, and I even stopped by to speak to your mum, just to reassure her that I’m sorting everything. She wasn’t happy, but she listened to what I had to say. I suggested she come round tonight, unless you’ve changed your mind about the flights.’

The thought of escaping people like Liam O’Neill suddenly sounded very appealing, but then how would it look if she left Ben to face the music alone?

‘Let’s just go home, I’ve got a pounding headache. I feel like everyone is watching us, and I’d rather be somewhere alone.’

He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and led her outside to where the taxi was waiting. Dave, Scott and Abdul were the only guests gathered to wish the bride and groom on their way.

Taking one final look at the venue that had promised so much joy and happiness, Alice wondered whether they had seen the last of Liam O’Neill, or whether he would just be the first in a long line of people wanting a piece of their lives.

THIRTEEN

Silence descended on the car journey through the New Forest, passing wild ponies, donkeys, and tourists making the most of the luscious summer heat. Families sat on picnic blankets, enjoying good food and conversation, while children hunted for frogs and fairies in the undergrowth. The scene was picture-perfect, and Alice couldn’t help but imagine the day when she and Ben would load the car with their own children and head out into the wilds of the countryside.

Despite patches of heavy traffic, they made it back to the village of Chilworth, a stone’s throw from the end of the M3 motorway, inside thirty minutes. A blue saloon car parked in front of the gates to the property greeted them as they turned onto their road. It had no formal markings, but even Alice could tell what profession its driver had.

‘Let’s just keep driving,’ Alice suggested. ‘Let’s not let them ruin another day.’ She meant every word. They could drive past the house and head to her mother’s or one of their friends’ houses – anywhere to keep the wolves at bay for a while longer.

Ben shook his head. ‘We can’t run forever.’ With that he pressed the remote control to open the automatic gates, instructing the taxi driver to go past the blue saloon and continue up the driveway.

To their right, the large house stood in all its glory, the view from the road blocked by the high fence and bushes, looking magnificent and modern as the sun reflected off the large windows. Despite the proximity to the motorway, only the slightest hum of traffic carried on the wind. To the left of the main building stood the brick enclosure housing the near‑Olympic‑size swimming pool and hot tub; to the right, the double garage containing her Audi and his Mercedes. Their bedroom was the largest in the centre of the first floor, with two smaller rooms each side; a sixth bedroom was downstairs towards the rear of the property.

Ben and the driver were first out of the car, and as the bags were removed from the boot, the blue saloon pulled up alongside them. Ben paid the driver and thanked him, waiting until the taxi was through the gates before closing them once more with the remote control.

He turned to Alice and whispered, ‘Why don’t you head inside, and leave me to deal with whoever this is?’

Alice pulled her handbag over her shoulder like a sash. ‘We’ll do this together. We’ll show them we’re united.’

The two plainclothes detectives exited the blue car, lifting their identification into the air.

The woman spoke first. ‘Ben Goodman? I’m DC Vanessa Hazelton, and this is my colleague, DC Wayne McTeal.’

‘What do you want?’ Ben asked defiantly. ‘I told you lot everything I know. I didn’t kill that poor girl.’

‘We’re not here to arrest you, Mr Goodman,’ Hazelton replied. ‘I believe DI Vernon would have informed you we need to collect the clothes you were wearing on Saturday night? That’s what we’re here to do.’

Hazelton had a quiet voice, but there was a determination in the tone that suggested she was used to getting what she wanted. A pretty face, her brown hair was cut short, giving her an androgynous look. If it weren’t for the two bulges in her pink blouse, it would be easy to mistake her for a teenager.

Alice followed Ben and the detectives through the front door. The high ceiling in the grand hall kept the room light and airy, but as they moved through to the kitchen, the sun’s rays on the large bifold doors meant the room was obnoxiously warm and stuffy. It had been three days since Alice was here last. Stepping to the panel on the wall, she adjusted the temperature on the thermostat and welcomed the cool rush of air as the ceiling fans kicked in.

Hazelton had followed Alice into the kitchen while Ben had taken McTeal upstairs.

‘Once we have the clothes bagged up, we’ll leave you to enjoy the rest of your weekend,’ Hazelton offered with an empathetic smile. ‘I assume Ben has told you why we took him to the station yesterday?’

‘Of course. We don’t keep secrets.’

Hazelton’s face remained passive.

‘He didn’t do it, you know,’ Alice suddenly blurted. ‘He told me he didn’t and I believe him.’

‘I’m in no position to disagree, Mrs Goodman.’

The comment threw Alice. ‘You don’t think he did it either?’

‘I’m not paid to have an opinion. I just follow the evidence. With all due respect, Mrs Goodman, a young woman has been brutally murdered. Whomever was responsible is still out there, somewhere on the streets evading justice. He – or she – needs to be brought to justice, and before they do it again. Our only priority is finding this individual. Imagine if she was your best friend: wouldn’t you want us to do everything in our power to find her killer?’

Alice sipped her water but remained quiet.

Hazelton moved across to the bifold doors, staring out. ‘You have a beautiful garden. How far back does it stretch? Sixty feet?’

‘Something like that,’ Alice sighed.

‘Is this your own work or do you have a gardener?’ Hazelton continued, pointing at the raised flowerbed that ran the length of the lawn on the left side.

‘A gardener tends to it once a week. I’m not green-fingered.’

‘Nor me,’ Hazelton smiled. ‘I live in a third-storey flat, and whenever my mum brings over a houseplant, it never lasts more than a month. Sometimes I don’t know why she bothers.’

‘Are you from Southampton?’

‘No, I’m based in Bournemouth, but the inquiry is being led by the Major Crimes Team here in Southampton, so a small group of us are here supporting.’ She paused. ‘It isn’t my place to say, but I’m sorry that the arrest was so public. Ordinarily, someone would have had a quiet word and been more discreet; I don’t know why DI Vernon made such a big fuss.’

Ben appeared in the kitchen, McTeal following behind, holding a large sealed bag and wearing blue protective gloves.

‘Did you get it?’ Hazelton asked him.

McTeal lifted the bag and nodded.

‘You won’t find anything on the clothes as they’ve been cleaned,’ Ben warned. ‘If I’d known I would need to prove my innocence, I would have left them unwashed.’

Hazelton approached him, meeting his stare. ‘That’s all right, Mr Goodman, you’d be surprised at how difficult it is to remove the telltale signs of blood. We’ll have our forensic specialists review the clothing and let you know the results. Of course, these could be key to ruling you out of our investigation. Let’s hope so, hey?’