Arthur had eventually turned up, tail between his legs. Laura had waited with her, and then sat very quietly whilst he admitted to Rosie that she was right, it was time to let go. The letter from Bellows solicitors seemed pretty watertight, at least that was the opinion of his own solicitors. Robbie had also sat very quietly, a strange look of bemusement at everything that had happened in his absence.
The journey back to the cottage had been tense. Laura drove and barely said a word. Robbie sensed she was merely biding her time and kept his remarks to the scenery flashing past them. The storm had brought down the first of the autumn leaves, but somehow that made it all seem even greener and more beautiful than before.
Letting them both into the cottage, she hung up her coat, left her bag on the floor and headed straight upstairs. Shutting the door quietly behind him, he wondered what his next move should be. He'd seen her cross before, many times, but only once since they'd been together and he had no desire to repeat the mistakes he'd made then. And with that in mind he followed her upstairs. She was in the bathroom so he sat down on the edge of the bed and waited, and on hearing tap stop running, braced himself. She opened the door and looked at him, her face telling him nothing. He went to speak, but she held up her hand to stop him.
"I know what you're going to say. You're going to give me a very detailed and plausible story as to what is going on, and even before hearing it I'll just say that I believe you. I know there's no way you'd leave me waiting for you for nearly two hours without a very good reason." He smiled weakly, nodding in confirmation. "But Robbie, honestly! Did you not think to call or send me a message? Anything could have happened to you and I'd never have known. It's not like we're married and they have to call me as next of kin." She could see the smile behind his eyes appear as she said this. "And no, that's not an invitation for a proposal!" she lambasted, a finger waggled in his direction. She frowned, desperate to keep a straight face and show him how cross she was, but as he raised an eyebrow at her she could feel her resolve crumbling. She sat down next to him, "I was worried. You could have been hurt for all I knew." He let out a little laugh and she knew he was still thinking about them being married. She shoved him gently, "Stop it, I'm serious!"
He put an arm around her, expecting to be pushed away, "I know you are, love. I am sorry, honest I am." Relieved that her anger was only skin deep and from fear, not anything more, he continued, "Let me make it up to you." He paused and briefly wondered if his next thought was worth the risk, "Before I do though, what was it Rosie was saying about throwing me and Arthur over for a wine bar?"
The last of the stormy clouds had blown through the valley, leaving a clear night sky. The moon was back, sending reflections dancing over the dark waters of the lake. The stars were out too, but tucked up in the corner of Albert's pub, none of the party had noticed. It had been Laura's idea to invite them out for dinner. She felt that her and Rosie had formed a sort of a bond thanks to the varying exploits of their other halves, and wanting to thank her this seemed to be as good a way as any.
"So, has he told you yet?" Rosie asked, looking at Laura, "Where he'd been?" She shook her head. "He refused to, said he'd tell us all tonight."
"I am here, you know!" Robbie interjected. Laura jerked her head round, "Oh yes, so you are, I forgot for a moment. Thought you were still off playing the grand detective," she said dryly, winking to Rosie as she did so.
He rolled his eyes in acceptance, "How long are you going to punish me for, just so as I know?" She sat up and straightened her jacket. "I haven't decided yet, depends how good your story is."
"Ah well, in that case, I'll start, shall I?" Arthur nodded, he for one was desperate to know.
Robbie started by explaining how it has been the constant references to the cottage that had sparked his curiosity, telling them how he'd looked the place up online and, once he'd scrolled past all the adverts for it as a holiday let, begun to learn about its origins as a cottage for local farm hands, and then how it had been passed down through the family until it had come to Arthur's uncle.
"You know the next bit, of course. In extending the property so it could be let out, your uncle overreached and the debts mounted. Discovering that led me to assume that Bellows was tied up in the debts somehow, hence his own interest in the place. But he seemed familiar to me beyond seeing him this week. I was sure I'd seen him somewhere before. It took me a while but eventually I placed him."
He paused, lifting his pint to his lips and then placing it again on the table, he turned to Laura. "Do you remember the copycat attempt from a few weeks back?" She nodded, going slightly pale at the thought of it. Seeing Arthur and Rosie's confused faces, she explained as gently as she could, "Someone tried, and thankfully failed, to stab a family to death." Seeing the shocked look on their faces, she added, "You don't want to know the details, believe me," and reached for her wine.
Robbie touched her knee lightly under the table, trying to offer her some quiet reassurance. He continued, "We were pretty sure that the man who planned the attack had help. There were too many things that didn't make sense otherwise. We even had CCTV of the person we wanted to question but it was too grainy to make out exactly who it was. We issued it to the press to see if anyone recognised them but no one came forward."
"It was Bellows," Arthur said plainly. Robbie nodded. "It was. Always easier to tell when you have the actual person in front of you. It didn't take long for James, my Sergeant," he added for the benefit of Arthur and Rosie, "To establish that Bellows had been in Oxford up until very recently."
"That's right," Rosie spoke up, it all starting to slot into place. "Martha's been on her own up here for a long time, it's been an adjustment having him back again I can tell you. She's never said anything explicitly but there have been a lot of hints that he wasn't exactly above the law. I feel for her, she's been a good friend to me. It can get pretty lonely in these hills at times." Arthur put his arm around her, giving a little hug.
"And so this is where you were," Laura's words merely confirming what she'd already suspected. "Will they arrest him?" she asked.
"Oh yes," Robbie confirmed, "Should be doing that about now, if my message has been passed up the chain. I'm sure James will be following up tomorrow if they don't." He looked at Rosie. "I'm sorry for your friend, though. Never easy on the spouse." She gave him a smile. She could see what Laura had meant when she'd described how caring he was. "There is one more thing," Robbie continued. "It might just help you out, no guarantees, mind."
He pulled out some sheets of paper from his breast pocket and handed them to Arthur. It was a collection of newspaper articles. "A while back Bellows was up in court for running a dodgy building company. Used illegals, didn't pay a fair wage, not registered for tax, the usual array of misdemeanours. Reckon you might have a case for getting some of your uncle's debts cancelled. Not sure it helps with getting the cottage back, but could be worth a try." He felt Laura's warm hand on his back and sensed that perhaps he had been forgiven.
Arthur cleared his throat, trying to cover up the swell of emotion he could feel rising up inside. "Thank you, that means a lot."
They said their goodbyes to Arthur and Rosie, thanking them for the lift back to the cottage, Laura hugging Rosie, promising to give her a call when she got back home, and then watching and waving as they drove up the drive and onto the road, heading for the hills. Once inside, Laura poured them both a drink. The clear skies had forced the temperature to drop and there was a wintery-feeling chill in the air. Handing him his glass, she collapsed onto the sofa.
"If you'd told me this morning that today would involve you catching the accomplice to an attempted murder and potentially saving someone's inheritance, I'm not sure I'd have believed you," she said, thinking back over the last few hours.
He sighed, "And there you were thinking how ordinary life was going to be, shacked up with an old codger like me." He sat down next to her, and she shifted closer so she could rest her head on his shoulder.
"I've never thought you were anything other than extraordinary, Inspector, regardless of what the rest of the world chooses to believe."
He scoffed at this, but quietly wished his modesty would let him believe her for once. "You're happy with the 'old codger' bit of that then?" he joked.
"Well, beggars can't be choosers, Robbie. You should know that," she replied coyly, turning her head to look up at him, sighing as he kissed her gently. She broke away, placed both their glasses carefully on the coffee table before turning back to him and slipping her arms around his neck, eager for more.
"I said I'd make it up to you, Laura, for worrying you, I mean. And I meant it." he said, running his thumb lightly across her cheekbone and to the soft spot behind her ear that he knew she liked.
"Oh yes? And how exactly are you planning on doing that?" wondering and hoping that a night of seduction was on the cards. In anticipation of this she started to plant delicate kisses on his cheek and then down towards his neck and collarbone. His eyes twinkled, "Well, I did buy you a little something to wear."
She stopped and looked at him quizzically, an eyebrow most definitely raised. She hadn't been expecting that. Chuckling at her response, he stood and fetched a box from his bag in the hall. It was hard to tell from her facial expression what she was thinking as he perched next to her and handed it over. "I thought perhaps you could wear it tomorrow."
Tomorrow? Her mind was racing as she opened the box, her face breaking into a huge smile as she saw what was inside. "Oh Robbie, it's perfect." She touched the material gently before lifting it out to reveal a sage green scarf of almost silk-like material, covered in tiny illustrations, almost too small to make each one out unless you were close-up. "You did say you were fond of Beatrix Potter," he explained. "If you look carefully I think you'll find all of her characters are there somewhere, and I do owe you a trip to see where she wrote the stories. I thought maybe tomorrow before we head home?"
She wrapped it around her neck, feeling it's softness beneath her fingers. She looked at him, her eyes brimming with emotion. "You really are the most thoughtful man. I love it, thank you." She settled back into his arms. He pulled her close. "I do believe, Dr Hobson, that we have survived our first week away together."
"Only survived?" she commented lightly, lifting her hand to run it suggestively through his hair. He rolled his eyes, "I just mean..." She pressed a finger to his lips to stop him. "I know what you mean," and she kissed him, as deeply and passionately she could, feeling him respond with everything he had.
"There is something quite delicious about writing the first words of a story. You never quite know where they'll take you." Beatrix Potter.