Standing on a hill looking out onto the Marches, Ash Morgan whistled and an excited Border collie came racing out from among the trees.
"That's it, Moss, come on. Attaboy." The dog circled madly, then tore off in the direction of the farmhouse, bounced off the gate, then started back up the hill again towards the master he adored. Ash suddenly caught sight of an unfamiliar green car as it made its way carefully up the rough track and into the farmyard. He quickened his pace to redirect yet another clueless English tourist whose GPS had taken them on a mystery tour. When he reached the road he was taken completely by surprise as the driver got out and he realised who it was.
"Ash!" There was that wonderful, warm twinkly smile.
"Stace! What the hell...I mean, it's fantastic to see you!" Overcoming his initial shock, he caught her in a big bear hug, causing her to squeal with delight.
"Lovely to see you too! And who's this?" Stacie bent down to pat Moss, who was anxious to meet this new friend. He pawed at Stacie's coat.
"He wants to shake your hand," explained Ash, and Stacie happily obliged.
"Now you've got a pal for life." He linked Stacie's arm through his and they went into the farmhouse kitchen, which Ash was relieved to have just thoroughly cleaned. A savoury aroma filled the air.
"Ash, have you gone all domesticated on me?! That smells absolutely delicious."
"Are you hungry? Here, give's your coat." He helped Stacie out of her heavy fur and hung it on the peg behind the door, then proceeded to ladle out two bowls of the chilli which he had made that morning. "Sorry I haven't got any homemade to go with it," he said, putting a plate of crusty bread on the table, "but the breadmaker's on the blink."
"Yeah, right," was her sceptical reply, then, "Wow, this is fantastic! When did you learn to make stuff like this?"
"When I came here. There was nothing else to do at first, and the nearest takeaway's in Shrewsbury."
"Well, I'd say you've definitely got a flair for it; either that, or you've been watching nothing but cookery programmes on TV."
For a few minutes, neither of them spoke, but ate, occasionally looking at each other and smiling. Finally, when Stacie had eaten her fill, she said, "You must be wondering why I'm here."
"The thought had crossed my mind," replied Ash with an amused grin. Suddenly serious as an idea struck him, he asked, "There's nothing wrong, is there? Is Albert OK?"
"He's absolutely fine," Stacie reassured him. "Very much enjoying his retirement. No, it's me who needs your help." She paused, obviously finding it difficult to go on. Ash reached across the table to grasp her hand, and tears sprang into her eyes.
oooOOOooo
As the line of friends and relatives formed, waiting for their ID to be checked and visiting time to begin, Ash walked briskly to the front of the queue and leaned over the counter.
"DI Jackson to see prisoner Francis Monroe."
The guard took Ash's warrant card and inspected it, then scrutinised the visiting order documentation. "He's not down on the list to see anyone. I'll try and get him for you as quickly as possible. If you go through the gate the officer there will direct you to the legal visit room." He spoke via two-way radio to his colleague on the other side of the security turnstile, and she buzzed Ash in. A dog handler brought a large German Shepherd to have a good sniff and check the visitor for drugs.
"Empty your pockets into this tray, then step through the metal detector," instructed the woman.
Another officer prepared to pat Ash down. "Open your mouth wide, please, sir," he requested, then searched Ash's clothes and checked the soles of his shoes. "That's fine, thank you."
Ash collected the contents of the tray and was shown down a long corridor to a room signposted "Legal Visits Only".
"We'll have him down in about fifteen minutes," the prison officer said as he closed the door, leaving Ash to contemplate life inside. He was much relieved when, within a quarter of an hour the door on the other side of the room opened and a slightly-built, grey-haired man was ushered in.
"I'll be just outside," the guard explained, and left.
Frank Monroe sat down opposite Ash, looking bemused. "What's this about, then? My brief said it would be another fortnight before there was any movement on the appeal. The last thing I expected was a visit from the law."
Remaining alert to the possibility that their conversation was being monitored, despite the rules regarding privacy of legal visits, Ash stayed in character. "Another witness has come forward, Mr. Monroe, a man called Ash Morgan. Do you know him?"
A look of shocked recognition crossed Monroe's face for an instant, but he acted as if nothing out of the ordinary was going on. "I remember him from way back. Does he think he can help me?"
"It looks as if there's a distinct possibility that he may be able to throw some light on your case, yes. He's a friend of your daughter's, I'm told."
Understanding now, Monroe smiled. "She's a good girl, Stacie. Always looking out for me."
"Well, somebody has to," retorted Ash, with a raised eyebrow.
The prisoner had got the message. "I'd be very grateful for whatever this guy Morgan can do to assist me. I'm just a bit concerned that it may be beyond his scope."
Stung by this ungrateful dig at his personal abilities, Ash said, "I think you'll find that he could well be a key witness in your appeal. However, if you don't want him to get involved, that's up to you." He rose to leave.
"No!" The mask of cockiness slipped, and a panicked Monroe stood up and reached for Ash's sleeve. Within a split second, the prison officer was back in the room. He had most likely been watching on CCTV and wanted to make sure not only that no harm came to the visitor, but also that no contraband was being passed. Ash had pulled away instinctively and this reaction only reinforced his guise as a policeman.
"Right, Frank, that's enough," said the guard, placing himself between the prisoner and Ash. "You know there's no contact allowed with legal visitors. Have you finished?" he asked of Ash, who in turn looked enquiringly at Monroe.
The older man ran a hand through his silvery mane. "It's...it's fine. If you can get this bloke to give a statement, or whatever it is he needs to do, I'm happy for him to do it. You tell him that," Monroe said, almost threateningly.
Outside in the prison car park, Ash exhaled deeply. Visits to the nick always unsettled him, although it was normally friends he was there to see. It had been the best part of thirty years since he and Frank Monroe had last laid eyes on each other, so it was no wonder the man had needed a bit of help recognising him, especially as he'd been told his visitor was a detective inspector. Ash checked his watch and knew he needed to get a move on if he was to meet Stacie at their appointed time and place.
oooOOOooo
"How is he?" Stacie's slightly shaking hands raised the teacup to her lips.
A lightning bolt of realisation hit Ash. "When did you last see him, Stace?"
Pushing back her long dark hair in a gesture reminiscent of her father's, Stacie sighed and answered, "Not since he went inside; almost six months now." She quickly countered Ash's look of puzzlement. "He won't allow me to visit him. He doesn't want me to see what this has done to him, thinks I won't be able to handle it, but he doesn't realise that it hurts me so much more to be told to stay away. I've written to let him know I miss him and want to visit, but all I get back is these curt little notes that say he won't submit a visiting order for me. And if he doesn't do that, I can't see him."
"All this even though he's innocent? Sorry, Stace, I have to ask."
"I know, I know. If he'd actually done something wrong I'd see the force of his argument, but to be this stubborn and stupid when it was a total set-up, and in the middle of getting his appeal together...you'd think he'd want to discuss things with me. But no." Near to tears once more, Stacie turned to look out of the café window.
Ash moved round the table to sit next to her, and gently put his arm around her shoulders. She crumpled quietly and he just held her for what seemed like hours.
After she felt better, she wanted to talk, but more privately, so Ash took her to a quiet park he knew not far away. There, they walked as she explained everything, and sat on a bench when he needed to ask questions. It took some time, but finally Ash understood. Stacie's father had been framed by her mother.