Kate Lawson - Keeping Mum

KATE LAWSON

Keeping Mum

This novel is entirely a work of fiction.

The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

AVON

A division of HarperCollins Publishers Ltd. 1 London Bridge Street London SE1 9GF

www.harpercollins.co.uk

First published in Great Britain by HarperCollins Publishers 2009

Copyright © Kate Lawson 2009

Kate Lawson asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work

A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.

HarperCollins Publishers has made every reasonable effort to ensure that any picture content and written content in this ebook has been included or removed in accordance with the contractual and technological constraints in operation at the time of publication

Source ISBN: 9781847560537

Ebook Edition © 2009 ISBN: 9780007328956

Version: 2018-05-31

To my lovely man, Phil, my beautiful boys, Ben, James, Joe and Sam, and my dog Beau, and also the Fabulous Fish ladies on Downham Market’s market.

Cover

Title Page KATE LAWSON Keeping Mum

Copyright

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Acknowledgements

About the Author

Praise for Kate Lawson

By the Same Author

About the Publisher

‘Blonde wig, sunglasses…’ Cass tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear and looked herself up and down in the ornate mirror currently leaning up against the wall in the spare room. She turned left and right to gauge the full effect and then shook her head. ‘Fiona, I can’t go out dressed in this. I look like a hooker.’

‘No, you don’t. Of course you don’t,’ Fiona said briskly, tugging Cass’s wig down at the back. ‘You look…’ She hesitated. It was obvious that it was a struggle to find the right words.

‘Conspicuous and very dodgy?’ suggested Cass. ‘Let’s be honest, Fee, that’s the last thing you want from a spy.’

Fiona’s expression hardened. ‘Spy is a very emotive word,’ she snapped, handing Cass a trench coat and rolled black umbrella.

‘Oh, and these are meant to help me blend in, are they? I don’t think this is a good idea at all.’ Cass dropped the umbrella onto the bed. ‘And besides, I barely know Andy. I’ve only seen him a couple of times since you moved back.’

‘Exactly.’

‘What do you mean exactly ?’

‘Well, if you knew him you could hardly spy on him, could you? He’d get suspicious, but this is fine. You know Andy well enough to recognise him in a crowd or pick him out in a bar, but not well enough for him to come rushing over or, worse still, go rushing off.’ As she spoke Fiona flicked Cass’s collar up and fluffed the wig so it looked a little more tousled.

‘There we are,’ she said. ‘That’s absolutely perfect.’

‘It’s not perfect. Remember the sixth leavers do? Vamps and tramps? You made me wear a corset and nearly got us both arrested?’

Fiona sniffed. ‘You always say that, but it was fine. I told the policeman we weren’t soliciting.’

Cass nodded. ‘Uh-huh—well all I need now are the fishnets.’

‘Don’t be so silly,’ said Fiona. ‘You look great.’

Cass wasn’t convinced.

From an overstuffed chair out on the landing, Mungo the resident ginger tom and Buster, Cass’s matching mongrel, watched proceedings with interest. They didn’t look convinced either.

‘It’s not like I’m asking you to bug him or anything,’ protested Fiona into what was proving quite a tricky silence. ‘All you have to do is watch, take a few photos and possibly notes, and let me know exactly what he is up to. And with who…’ Fiona paused. ‘I know he’s up to something.’ But if Fiona was hoping that Cass was going to leap into the breach, she was sadly mistaken.

‘I wouldn’t ask, Cass, but I can’t afford a private detective and I don’t know what else to do. Does your mobile phone have a camera with a zoom lens?’ Fiona asked, as she buttoned Cass into the trench coat.

This wasn’t exactly how Cass had imagined the evening going at all. She’d been thinking more in terms of a DVD, a bottle of wine and a takeaway, along with a bit of girlie chat, while the cat and dog mugged them for prawns.

Cass had known Fiona since they were eleven years old, and at school together—which in some ways felt like yesterday and in others a lifetime ago. After sixth form they had drifted apart, separated by college, boys, careers. And then a couple of years ago, Cass had had a phone call out of the blue:

‘Cass, this is Fee, just wanted to let you know we’re moving back to the area—isn’t that great? God, I’m so excited, maybe we could catch up sometime? I feel a bit like salmon coming home to spawn.’

Which was probably too much information. It obviously hadn’t occurred to Fiona that Cass wouldn’t remember who she was, not that Cass had forgotten—who could forget someone like Fiona?

Time smoothes away the raw edges of memory and Cass had forgotten a lot of things about Fee. What Cass had forgotten was that when she was on a mission, Fiona could be a grade A pain in the arse. These last two years of having Fee back in her life had brought all those annoying little qualities to light in glorious Technicolor. They hadn’t spoken very much in the years since leaving school but in that first conversation it all came flooding back.

‘When I saw this job in the paper I said to Andy it was fate. I can’t remember if you met Andy—he comes from Cambridge. You’ll have to come to dinner sometime once we’ve settled in. He can still commute; I know it’s a bit of a drag but we’ll get real quality of life in Norfolk. Or at least I will, he’ll be spending most of his life on the train,’ she giggled. ‘And I’ve found this great house. In Barwell Road? Those really lovely old Edwardian houses overlooking the park—four bedrooms, big bay windows…It’s going to be just perfect. I mean we want kids and London’s no place for a family, at least not for a country girl like me. So what are you up to these days?’ It had taken Fiona the best part of twenty minutes to get around to asking Cass anything about her life.

‘Working mostly, you know I bought a shop? And bringing the boys up.’