Bloodline

But Clare had then laughed and promised to hide all the kitchen knives during my stay. At least, I thought, we hadn’t gone too far down an irreversible path that we were unable to see the funny side and laugh at ourselves. But then the disastrous event in Park Lane had overtaken us.

Oh, how I longed again for her still to be alive. It was like an ache that wouldn’t go away. Painkillers had absolutely no effect. I’d tried.

I parked next to Clare’s cottage and collected the key from Geoff Grubb’s stable-yard office. There must have been another key in Clare’s handbag, and I presumed the police had that. I would have to ask Detective Sergeant Sharp for it on Monday. Would they also have her car? I would ask the detective about that as well.

The rent’s paid for the rest of the month, Geoff had said to me at Windsor races when I’d seen him just two days after Clare had died. Well, today was the last day of the month, so I had better get on and do something about clearing her stuff.

I let myself in and stood in her sitting room. It was only eight days since I’d last been there but so much seemed to have happened since. Somehow, though, I felt it was a little easier being here this time.

I took my things up the narrow staircase to the spare bedroom, hanging my dinner jacket in the wardrobe.

Clare and I had planned to go to Tatiana’s eighteenth birthday party together, and I did have a slight emotional wobble as I recalled Clare’s surprise at being asked.

‘I hardly know the girl,’ she had said. ‘You’re her godparent, not me.’

‘But you can’t really blame her. If you had a celebrity aunt you’d also invite her to your party.’

‘Celebrity, my arse,’ she’d replied with a laugh. ‘You’re the celebrity. That’s what being on TV does for you.’

But Clare had indeed been quite a celebrity, as the abundant column inches of obituary that had appeared in The Times and the Daily Telegraph had proved. All the more reason why I should endeavour to defend her reputation from the slurs in the

Daily Gazette. And, I thought, all the more reason for ensuring that I told no one of her irregular riding practices on Bangkok Flyer and the like.

I sighed. I didn’t feel like going to an eighteenth birthday party. I could have done without all that noise for a start, not to mention a late night before I was due to appear on the Morning Line for Channel 4. But I had agreed ages ago to make the birthday speech so I had to be there. And I wanted to support Nicholas, my brother-in-law, who was still worrying himself sick over whether or not he should have postponed the whole thing.

He and Angela had asked me if I would like to be Tatiana’s godfather when I’d been only fourteen. I’d been really flattered but, to be honest, I probably hadn’t been the most conscientious of godfathers. I had no idea about her faith, but I’d always sent Christmas and birthday presents, which is what I reckoned were my main duties.

Nicholas and Angela lived near Royston, about twenty miles southwest of Newmarket and the party was in a marquee in their garden. According to the invitation, it started at eight o’clock so I decided that I should leave at about seven forty-five in order to arrive suitably early but without appearing to be too prompt. I reckoned that if I was there pretty much at the beginning, I could get away well before the end.

I looked at my watch. It was just after twelve midday. So I had nearly seven hours for sorting and packing before I needed to get ready. But where did I start? I wasn’t even sure how much of the furniture had belonged to Clare and how much had been rented with the cottage.

I decided to deal with Clare’s clothes first. I went out to my car to collect some large blue bags and some cardboard boxes that I had brought with me just for the purpose.

I started with the over-full drawers of frilly black-lace underwear, which filled up one of the large blue bags to overflowing. It made me sad that Clare had invested so much in something that almost no one saw. But I suppose it must have given her pleasure.

I managed to pack the rest of her clothes into four more of the blue bags, with shoes and boots filling two of the cardboard boxes. I took the bags and boxes down and stacked them in the space under the stairs.

Next I turned my attention to the desk in the corner of the sitting room. Her mobile phone bill was where I’d put it down and then forgotten to collect it last time. I now folded it carefully and put it in my pocket.

I sat down on the chair and started to look through Clare’s papers. I wasn’t sure what I was really looking for, if anything, but I couldn’t just throw stuff away without going through it first. There might be share certificates or other important documents. I hoped there might even have been a will.