Death Actually Read online

  Maggie looked at him. How infuriating he was.

  “No, I do understand, I do,” he said. “It’s your work. You have to wear black, doesn’t she, Nick?”

  Maggie felt herself colouring. “I warn you, Nick, uninvited comments about my choice of clothes can make it hard to get down the mountain at the end of the day.”

  “Don’t worry, Nick,” said Ben. “The doctor wearing red can drive you home in his blue car. Wouldn’t want to see you stranded just because your mother has gone a bit dark.”

  Maggie and Nick groaned in unison as the chair reached the top.

  “Lunch after this run?” asked Ben, and skied off before either could answer.

  Maggie watched him make his first turn. No man had noticed what she wore – far less commented on it – for years. It felt strange, but it also felt nice. Just this once she would let it go. Her tummy rumbled loudly. Until now she hadn’t realised how hungry she was.

  Later, in the queue at the cafeteria, Ben leaned forward. “Autumn colours would suit you as much as black,” he said, reaching forward to ladle soup into a bowl. “Think about it.”

  Maggie was flabbergasted. She barely knew this man, but more to the point he barely knew her. She’d let it go once, but twice would be encouraging him. She had to stop it now. But as she turned to say something, she accidentally knocked his arm, and hot soup spilled onto his hand. He dropped the bowl, which shattered on the floor, sending soup everywhere.

  Maggie grabbed some serviettes and handed them to Ben. “Here, use these. I’m sorry I knocked your arm but I guess I’ve had enough advice for today.” She picked up her tray and left him to clean up the mess.

  The cafeteria was full of hungry skiers eager to talk about their morning. Sun poured in through the windows, melting the snow carried in on boots into puddles on the concrete floor. In one corner a group of elderly Chinese tourists, there to see the view rather than to ski, looked around uncertainly, overwhelmed by the noise. In another corner, three Australian families had commandeered tables where the mothers were busy handing out food to a pack of eager children, while their older siblings sat facing the wall, heads down, mortified at having to eat in public with them. Fathers were kept busy going backwards and forwards to the servery for more food and a stream of hot drinks. Outside, the tables on the veranda were less busy due to a cool wind, but doors still swung open and closed as orders were made and delivered.

  Nick looked from Maggie to Ben as they ate their food, wondering how the mood between them could change so quickly. Sitting across from each other, they might as well have been on opposite sides of the planet. Eye contact was studiously avoided, and neither spoke as they consumed their lunch as efficiently and quickly as Nick had seen anyone eat. Ever.

  Nick was just about to clear away their trays and suggest they head back up, when a request for a doctor came over the public speaker system.

  Ben stared down at the table in front of him.

  “Aren’t you going to go?” asked Maggie.

  “Only if no one else volunteers. It’s bound to be nothing the ski patrol can’t handle, if they think about it.”

  “It didn’t sound like nothing.”

  “I haven’t been on a ski field yet where there weren’t at least ten doctors around. One of them can go. This is my day off.”

  A tow operator appeared at the table. “I knew I’d seen you here, Doc. Can you come and help?”

  Ben got up and smiled. “Of course. I was just coming.”

  Maggie snorted.

  Ben ignored her. “What’s the problem – Pete, isn’t it?”

  “Yip, Doc, that’s me. Arthur our paramedic went off to fetch a broken leg down the mountain and hasn’t come back, and now something else has come up. Sorry to bother you,” he added, heading for the door.

  Nick and Maggie had finished their lunch, so they followed on behind in case there was anything they could do to help. Both had done ski rescue work in the past and were used to dealing with minor injuries.

  It was a short walk to the tow shed at the bottom of the quad lift. Once there, an attendant pointed up at a chair slowly making its way down the mountain. It was the only one that wasn’t empty.

  The attendant, who quickly introduced himself as Luke, spoke with an American accent. He was young with an unruly mop of blond hair held back with a blue bandana. Intelligent brown eyes framed a darkly tanned face, his white neck just visible at the top of his jacket.

  Squinting, he pointed towards the chair which was now on its descent.

  “Something weird is going on with those folks,” he said. “They went all the way to the top and came all the way down again, and rode around here and didn’t get off. They’re skiers, and not tourists, because they’re both wearing ski boots, but they haven’t got skis or poles. It’s a couple and she looks like she’s hugging him and he’s not moving. I called out, but nothing. I’ve closed the tow while I was waiting for help.”

  The radio on his hip crackled. “Hey Luke, there are skis and poles under the chair about halfway up. It looks like they flicked them off.”

  “When they get here, I’ll slow the chair then stop it,” Luke replied. “They better not be messing around ’cos if they are, I’ll feed them to this ugly crowd behind me.”

  Luke ducked across to talk to the queue. They heard him telling some very irritated people to go to the other tows because this one would be closed for a while. The crowd murmured fretfully, but it wasn’t long before most had left, only a few remaining to see what the fuss was about.

  When the couple’s chair was two pylons from the bottom, Luke slowed the tow down to walking pace. Five pairs of eyes stared up at the pair as the chair came slowly closer and stopped.

  A woman looked at them over the shoulders of a man slumped in her arms. There was silence as the engine cooled and cut out. Ben walked over, knelt down in front of them and lifted the woman’s arm from around the man cradled against her. He reached up to the man’s neck and felt for a pulse.

  “He’s dead, isn’t he?” the woman asked, her face streaked with tears.

  Ben nodded.

  Maggie looked at the pale lifeless face slumped against the woman’s chest. Ben reached in to separate them, and the man’s head dropped lifelessly backwards, his lips blue. A string of saliva dangled slackly from the corner of his mouth. The woman bent forward and put her head in her hands.

  “I’m Ben. Can I ask who you are?”

  Without looking up, the woman said, “Lucy. I’m Lucy and this is Mark. Mark Holmes.”

  A great gulping sob escaped her as she reclaimed her man, grasping him and rocking him in her arms, not ready to let him go again.

  Luke swallowed and brushed his eyes. Looking around for something to do, he walked over to the barrier and shooed away the gawpers and sightseers hanging around to see what was happening.

  Maggie’s first instinct was to wrap the poor woman in her arms, but all Lucy wanted to do was to hold onto Mark.

  “What happened?” asked Ben quietly.

  “We were talking about the house we’re buying when Mark just stopped,” said Lucy. “One minute we were working out how to find more money and then nothing. He looked at me and nothing. I couldn’t believe it. We were right in the middle up there, about twenty metres above the snow. There was nowhere to get help. The chair kept moving. There was nothing I could do. I couldn’t get us off at the top and the guy didn’t see me. So I reached down and flicked our skis off. I thought if I held him, he would be … By then, we were on our way down again and I knew there was no hope of getting help in time. I knew he was gone.”

  “I’m so sorry,” said Ben. “You’re right, there was nothing you could have done. We can’t stay here, Lucy. I need to ask you to help us.”

  Lucy looked at Ben and nodded.

  “We’ll get him off the chair and then down the mountain. Maggie, behind you, is going to help.” He looked at Maggie. “You have your vehicle here don’t you, Maggie? It�
�ll be easier than calling an ambulance or helicopter.”

  Maggie reached into her pocket for the keys and tossed them to Nick so he could fetch the 4WD.

  “Luke? Have you got a stretcher and a blanket?” asked Ben.

  Maggie helped Lucy to a seat, holding her hand while Luke and Ben gently lifted Mark’s body onto the stretcher. Then Nick, Ben, Pete and Luke carried it down the slope to the first aid station where they sorted out forms and worked out what to do next. Ben meanwhile called the police, and it was agreed it would be best to take Mark down to The Stables.

  While this was going on, Lucy sat hunched up against a wall unable to speak, staring at the body under the blanket on the stretcher beside her.

  “Do you know anyone here in town?” Ben asked when he put down the phone. “Is there someone we can call to meet you?”

  Lucy shook her head wearily. “No one apart from Estelle, the estate agent, but I don’t think this is quite her field, do you? No, Mark’s the only person I know here. We’re staying at the Lodge.”

  Nick appeared in the doorway to let them know Maggie’s 4WD was outside. Lucy followed the stretcher out before looking up in horror to see a hearse.

  “I’m a funeral director,” said Maggie weakly.

  When everything was secure and Lucy was tucked up in a blanket in the front seat, Ben gave Lucy’s car keys to Nick and suggested he collect up their gear and meet them back at Maggie’s. Ben would follow them down.

  “Just one question before you go, Lucy,” said Ben, leaning through Maggie’s window. “Are you from Auckland?”

  Lucy nodded.

  “Your husband isn’t a surgeon, is he?”

  “He’s not my husband, but he is a surgeon. Cardiac.”

  “I thought I recognised the name.”

  Lucy didn’t look up. She was shivering in the draught coming through the open window.

  Maggie saw the exhaustion on her face, “Let’s go, shall we?”

  Ben stepped back and she closed the window, turned the heater on full blast and drove down the mountain, Lucy crying quietly beside her.

  Chapter Sixteen

  By the time Ben arrived at The Stables later that afternoon, Nick and Maggie had put Mark’s body in one of the chillers. Maggie and Lucy were sitting in front of a roaring fire drinking freshly brewed coffee while Nick refilled the large wood basket. The room was warm and Lucy’s colour had improved considerably, but there was no mistaking she was both numb and exhausted by the events of the day.

  “I called into the police station on my way here,” said Ben, explaining why he was so late. “I’ve organised most of what needs to be done, but Lucy, I’m sorry, a constable will be here soon to ask you a few questions. I know it’s a bad time, but I’ll take you back to the Lodge as soon as all the official stuff is over. I forgot to ask, Maggie, but I hope that’s all right with you?”

  Maggie watched bemused as Ben, confident that everything he did would be fine with those round him, poured himself a coffee before sitting down in an armchair in front of the fire. He looked so at ease in her kitchen she had to remind herself it was the first time he’d been to her home.

  “There are a few things we need to ask you, Lucy. I’m sorry,” said Ben. “From what you’ve told me I’m guessing there are other people we need to contact, such as Mark’s wife.”

  Lucy and Maggie exchanged looks. They’d been talking before he arrived, and once Lucy had started, it was if a dam had broken. Maggie was apparently the first person Lucy had ever told about the affair. There was no one in Auckland she could confide in, she said, because for the past five years her social life had revolved solely around Mark. She felt guilty about the deceit but what could she do? She loved him, and he’d said he loved her and had begged her to wait.

  Lucy was also a doctor – an anaesthetist, she’d explained. That was how they’d met. His wife knew about the affair, but preferred to pretend it wasn’t happening. Mark had felt duty bound to stay with her for the sake of their children. Of course he felt bad about the sacrifices Lucy had made, but had promised to make it up to her.

  They’d been about to buy a house at Lake Hayes; there had been some last-minute problem with price and another bidder, but nothing they couldn’t have sorted out.

  And now, just when it had seemed everything was going the way they’d dreamed, he’d died and left her alone with nothing. She wouldn’t be able to share their relationship with anyone, or grieve for him in public.

  Maggie hadn’t reacted when Lucy talked about the house. Instead she’d held Lucy’s hand, and when the woman started to cry again, tried to comfort this person she barely knew, attempting to sooth some of the pain away.

  “Did Mark have any health issues, anything he’d seen a doctor about recently?” asked Ben.

  “None. He would have told me. We had no secrets. No medications, nothing. He’s a runner and really fit.” She looked up at Ben. “He’ll need a post mortem, won’t he, to find out why?”

  “Most likely,” he said. “The coroner usually requests one in these situations, but I suppose it depends ultimately on what his wife and his doctor back home say.”

  Lucy flinched as if she’d been struck. “I’m sure she won’t add anything I don’t know. They weren’t close. It was me he loved, you know, not her.”

  Maggie and Ben looked awkwardly at each other.

  “Lucy, I know how stressful this is for you and I promise I’ll get you back to the Lodge soon,” Ben persevered gently, “but his wife is his next of kin, and she’ll most likely need to come down and identify his body. After that he will go through to Dunedin for the post mortem. Look – I’m sorry, but I think I know his wife.”

  “You know her? How?”

  “Jude and my ex-wife are best friends.”

  Maggie heard the words “ex-wife” and something inside her froze. Don’t be so silly, she thought. What does it matter to you? But her heart, beating heavily in her chest, told her otherwise.

  Ben was talking; he hadn’t noticed her lapse in attention. “They were friends at school. That’s why I recognised Mark’s name. I never met him, though. We were both too busy working when I was married to Sarah, and our paths never crossed. I can imagine Jude will want to take charge as soon as she gets here.”

  “There’ll be no room for me then,” said Lucy angrily. “She knows about us. Three years ago she threatened to leave and clean him out financially if he didn’t end our relationship. It was all talk on her part. She had no intention of leaving. He was her meal ticket. The kids didn’t come into it, she was only thinking of herself. But it’s too late now. He’s gone and she’s his widow. That woman who made him so unhappy will own his memory as well as everything else.”

  Maggie and Ben let Lucy talk herself out. There was nothing either of them could say or do that would help. Maggie’s thoughts turned to Ben again. Ex-wife, ex-wife reverberated through her head until she called a halt. Of course he’s been married. He’s too old to be single and he’s not gay, so of course he has history. History,which is none of your business.

  To everyone’s immense relief, a young policeman finally arrived with the necessary forms from the coroner. He confirmed Mark’s wife’s contact details and said he would organise for someone at the Auckland station to visit her.

  “Are there children?” he asked. “It helps the person in Auckland to know what to say.” Despite his callow appearance it seemed he understood Lucy had not shared a public relationship with the deceased. Nevertheless he took her contact details, telling her he’d be in touch tomorrow, as he needed a statement before she returned to Auckland.

  The formalities over, Ben helped Lucy into his car.

  “Rough day,” he said to Maggie through the open window as he turned the ignition. “I’ll call later to make sure you’re OK.”

  “There’s absolutely no need. I’m fine.”

  He looked at her carefully then shrugged. “If you say so.”

  Back in the house, Maggie
put more wood on the fire, stirring the flames higher, grateful for the extra heat. Standing with her back to the fireplace she smiled at Nick as he ventured downstairs, now all the fuss was over.

  “Ben hoped you’d follow him out to the Lodge in their Porsche and give him a ride back to town.”

  “No problem,” he replied. “Funny way for the day to turn out.”

  “Certainly was,” said Maggie. She looked at her watch. “Good grief, is that the time? I’ve got to get some things together for Jilly’s funeral tomorrow and it’s late. Poor Jilly. Don’t you let me be buried without someone there to say goodbye, will you Nick?”

  “I thought you wanted to be cremated?” he said.

  “I do, but not without the traditional wailing, beating of chests and rending of clothes. There has to be some acknowledgement of my passing to show the world I existed. Don’t you forget that – rending and wailing at the very least, even if you don’t mean it. And make sure you let Kate know what’s expected. I want the full show at my funeral.”

  “I’ll drop the car back and no hurry, by the way.”

  “For what?”

  “Your funeral.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  It was one in the morning in Los Angeles, but Tim James wanted to see his son. He figured it was only the night nanny’s rest he was disturbing, and he wasn’t paying her to sleep.

  The Skype connection was annoyingly slow and kept freezing before skipping ahead, totally frustrating his long-distance attempt at fatherhood. His son had the good grace to look confused at the larger-than-life face of this strange man making goo-goo noises on the giant screen in his nursery.

  “Don’t tell Jenny about this,” he’d said to the nanny when she’d gasped at the bandage on his head above his swollen eye. “It looks worse than it is and I’ll tell her, but not yet.” He hoped the press didn’t get to her first.