Identity Crisis Read Online Free

boy adored his father. Clara certainly wasn’t about to tell Nash that. ‘Are you sure it’s the right thing to do?’
    ‘Yes and no. To be honest, Clara, I’m learning as I go along. But I promised his great aunt I’d take Daniel to stay with her for the two weeks of half-term. She’s far from well, and I think she’s scared if she doesn’t see him this time there might not be another chance. I can’t deny her that, or Daniel either. He may not be looking forward to it at present, but if he didn’t go and anything happened he’d feel rotten about it later.’
    ‘Have you checked the ferry sailings? In view of the weather, I mean?’
    Nash grimaced. ‘They’re all right, as far as I know. The south coast seems to have escaped the brunt of the gales. The worst part might be the drive down.’
    ‘One good thing, this weather seems to have kept all the villains indoors. In their own doors, I mean. I’ve not known it as quiet as this for a long time. I even had Tom Pratt asking me if there was any filing to do. He’s bored stiff with no paperwork to deal with.’
    Nash winced. ‘I thought you’d know by now, Clara, not to tempt fate like that.’
    Mironova threw up her hands. ‘I know, I know,’ she mocked him. ‘Sod’s Law and all that. Listen, why don’t you get yourself off now? Before the phone rings, I mean.’
    ‘I think I will. Even if it does ring, it’ll probably only be the chief. She promised to let me know when she’s heard who our new superintendent is going to be, but she thought it would be more likely next week rather than this.’

chapter two
    The weather throughout February had been wilder than for many years. Heavy rain, brought sweeping in from the Atlantic by storm-to-gale force winds, lashed the north of England for much of the month.
    The last Thursday in February was no exception. As night fell, the wind picked up. On the outskirts of Helmsdale in Wintersett village, close to the edge of Helm Woods, the small cottage, sturdily built though it was, received a continuous battering from the wind and lashing rain. The only occupant was watching television. At the window behind her, she could hear the leaves and branches of the ivy tapping and scraping against the glass. She felt the hairs rise on the nape of her neck. She cast an involuntary glance backwards, towards the window, but could see little but the raindrops on the panes. On the TV, the forecaster was promising gales. No kidding, she thought. She began to relax, laughing a little at her fears. It had all been her imagination. She was sure of that now.
    Again the tapping sound. Again the wind howling through the nearby trees. She stirred, she wished Brian were here. Normally, being alone didn’t worry her but tonight, things were different. Tonight, for some reason, she felt − not afraid − but unsettled.
    She got up and went into the kitchen. She hated cooking for one. She wondered fleetingly if Brian would phone, then dismissed the idea: he was on a golfing holiday. That would be his excuse. Not that he actually made excuses. Not anymore, obviously didn’t think it was necessary. She wondered again about these frequent jaunts of his. Was he really that keen on golf? Not that she cared. She preferred it when he wasn’t there. Andthat said more about the state of their marriage than anything. She knew she’d leave him if she’d anywhere to go, any money of her own. But he made sure that wasn’t feasible. What was it they called people like that? A control freak − that was it. These days they were like two strangers sharing the same house.
    She stopped torturing herself and tried to concentrate. Her back was to the kitchen window. That gave her no chance to see the face peering in. Nor did she hear any sound the watcher might have made. The howling wind saw to that. The figure remained, watching, impassive, until she moved. Half a turn was enough.
    She wasn’t sure why she looked out of the window. There was