Jennifer didn’t say much after my confession but I could tell that she was intrigued by what I’d said. I even caught her looking at me a couple of times with a wry smile on her face. That made me even more uneasy than ever.

My day went from bad to worse once Yasmine returned from shopping. As she was putting the food away, Jennifer said,

“Do you think that Craig here would look good in a skirt?”

Yasmine almost dropped the bottle of milk she was carrying before bursting out laughing.

“Is… is that why you are on the streets?”

I just glared at the two of them.

"There is no need to take the piss you know? I'm as ugly as sin and that's a fact. No amount of slap can fix that.”

Yasmine finished putting the groceries away with a huge smile on her face. Jennifer looked pretty smug. More than once, I wondered if they had some sort of telepathic link between them. At the very minimum, I was a source of entertainment to them both.

I gave up worrying about it and returned to reading my decidedly tatty copy of the complete works of Dickens. Not the full versions but an abridged version. It was one of the few things that I’d managed to take with me then I was told ‘get out right now and don’t come back’.

I had tried to go back to collect some more things but she’d changed the locks the next day. That sent a clear message to me. A message that said ‘this is not your home now so piss off’.

I never went near the old house again which was rather sad as I kind of loved that house.

The trials and tribulations of the likes of John Podsnap and Dr Marigold put my plight into some sort of perspective. At least we don't have workhouses anymore. If we did then that’s where I’d be that’s for sure.

My daydreaming was brought back to earth with a bang as Yasmine plonked a mug of tea down in front of me.

“You were miles away,” she said calmly.

I managed a small smile.
“I was mentally saying thanks that we don’t have workhouses any longer.”

I held up my book so that she could see the title.

“Ah. I get you. Surely it can’t be that bad?”

I just sighed and shook my head.

Just then, the front door slammed in the wind. I looked at Yasmine.
“Jennifer has gone to make a phone call from down on the coast. She said that she needed to speak to her boss about something.”

“Do you know what it was?”

“No. She read something on her laptop and left here with a smile on her face.”

A feeling of dread spread through my body. If it was about me then I was well and truly doomed.

---

Jennifer didn’t return until late that afternoon. I could tell that Yasmine was getting worried. When she did arrive, she was carrying a plastic carrier bag. She handed it to me.

“Want to try your hand at cooking tonight. That is some fresh Hake. I bought it in Porthmadog.”

“Porthmadog? That’s miles away,” I asked.

“Yeah. I wanted to make sure that anyone tracking the calls to our unit has a lot of distance to cover before they find us. I took the train from Barmouth, made the call, bought the fish and caught the next train back. No sense in making it easy to be followed is there?”

“What about the Internet?”

“That’s all done by a VPN. Anyone tracking that will think that we are in Aberdeen.”

Then I asked,
“What was so important that you had to speak to your boss in such a hurry?”

I’d put Jennifer on the spot. She could either claim that I didn’t need to know or spill the beans.

“Why don’t you think about what you are going to do with that fish? I’m going to take a shower.”

“What about…?”

“I’ll tell you over dinner,” replied Jennifer with what I took for an evil grin on her face.

---

I made dinner using the ingredients that I had available. I would loved to have had some fresh capers for the sauce but I couldn’t. There wasn’t even any vinegar to add a little acidity to the dish.

The Poached Hake with a light cheese sauce and fresh veggies went down well with the two women. My mind wasn’t really on the meal. All I wanted to know was what Jennifer had said to her boss.

I made some tea once everything had been washed up and cleared away.

After serving the tea, I sat down with my arms crossed and said,
“Well?”

Jennifer looked at Yasminee and smiled back at me.

“I found something very interesting in a report from the Foreign Office about your wife’s family. I went looking at some more documentation and what I found was a real humdinger.”

“Your wife lied on her application to become a British Citizen. She used the name of her cousin.”

“Eh? I’ve always known her as Imanuela Iordanescu?”

“Imanuela is correct but her real family name is Toba.”

“I don’t understand?”

“Her part of the Toba family is very well known the top group of smugglers from the Danube Delta. The Toba’s and Iordanescu’s are linked many times by marriage. The records discovered by the Foreign Office show many marriages between various family members from both sides going back to well before the Romanian War of Independence of the late 1870s. Russia declared war on the Ottoman Empire. The Russians allied with the Romanians took on the Ottomans whose empire ended at the Danube which is basically modern-day Bulgaria.”

“What does this mean?”

“You aren’t legally married. There are moves afoot to strip of her British Citizenship and is therefore a prime candidate for deportation back to Bucharest in view of the criminal activities that we have uncovered so far.”

“I feel like a fool.”

Jennifer smiled.
“You aren’t a fool. Everyone was fooled by them.”

That didn’t make me feel much better.

“How do you know all this?”

“We sent her fingerprints to Bucharest. The State Police have her prints on record from her arrest for trying to smuggle stolen cars to Sebastopol in the Crimea in 2008. She was just sixteen so the charges were dropped but her prints were kept on file. More recently, her family and the Iordanescu family have been under investigation for smuggling arms stolen in Poland into Russian occupied Crimea and Moldova.”

A sinking feeling spread through my body.

“The investigation into your former wife’s recruitment business is just about complete. The Crown Prosecution Service is formulating charges relating to her business and her involvement with Gangmasters.”

“Gangmasters?”

"Yeah. The people who manage teams of workers mostly in the Agricultural Industry. There are also some involved with people picking cockles from the seashore. There was a disaster in 2004 when a load of mostly Chinese workers got caught by the tides in Morecambe Bay and drowned. After that, the laws relating to Gangmasters were tightened up considerably. Your former wife is involved with the trafficking and exploitation of agricultural workers throughout the North West of England and South West Wales."

“I remember reading about that. It was a nasty affair.”

The word ‘trafficking’ made me very fearful.

“The good news is that because she used a false name when becoming a British Citizen, your marriage is void as is her name on the deeds to your house.”

Not for the first time I said,
“I don’t understand.”

“There is a lot to take in but in essence, there is a very good chance that she has no claim over the house even though a lot of her money both legal and illegal went into its purchase. The CPS is trying to work out a deal with the HMRC to leave the house and your assets alone should they go after your former wife’s assets. That is in return for helping us out.”

“If they don’t then I’m still up shit creek without a paddle?”

“You have a good claim against her legal wealth.”

“Only if I can afford a lawyer which I can’t.”

No one could refute that fact. My last statement effectively ended the conversation for the evening.

---

I was still troubled by the revelations from the night before the next morning. I needed some air so after Breakfast, I said,

“I’m going for a walk over to the Falls and up onto the hill behind. Then I’ll swing up towards the end of the railway and make my way back here through the woods.”

I didn’t wait for them to get their thoughts together.
“Wait, we’ll come as well,” said Jennifer.

I shook my head.
“I need some time alone to think if that’s allowed? Unless we were followed here and are under surveillance, I’m pretty safe, aren’t I? Besides, given what you said last night, I don’t think I’m going to be needed for any trial… should there be one that is.”

“Why do you say that?” asked Yasminee.

“If my former wife is the master criminal as you make out then she’ll have an exit plan already in place… won’t she? You make a move and somehow don't get your hands on her then she'll simply disappear. I know from spending time with her family in Romania that they are very good at both hiding and disappearing from view when the law comes knocking. They've survived for centuries, haven't they?"

Neither of them could argue against that so I carried on getting ready for my walk.

“Promise me that you won’t do a runner?” asked Jennifer as I headed for the door.

“I promise. I’m not taking my worldly goods with me, am I?” I replied pointing to my rucksack that was lying on the floor near the back door to the cottage. I’ll be back for a late lunch.”

Yasmine started to say something but stopped so I zipped up my coat and headed out of the cottage.

---

The air felt good and fresh and the walk was what I needed to get my thoughts in order. It seemed that the only positive from what Jennifer had said the previous evening would be that my illegal wife would be gone but I’d still be penniless. Anything else would be a bonus.

As I returned to the cottage, I had to negotiate a small ford. The stream was in full flow thanks to the rain of the previous few days so I retraced my steps and took a longer way. I ended up on the hill above the cottage. I could see right into Jennifer’s bedroom. That’s when I got a shock. I saw Jennifer and Yasmine embracing.

I sat down onto the peaty soil in a state of shock. I hadn't suspected that they were lovers but then it all started to make sense. I wondered if it was allowed for a Detective Chief Inspector to be in a relationship with a Detective Sergeant?

A few things that hadn’t registered before seemed to click into place. Yasmine was not deferential to her superior officer at least since they had been here. It might have been the surroundings but they acted as equals or as I knew it now, probable lovers.

That hurt me like a punch in the gut. I could not tell myself that I didn’t fancy Jennifer any longer. I had hoped that she might see something in me or enough of something to give me a chance once this was over. She’d given me enough hints or… I wondered if it was all a bit of a come-on just to get me to talk a lot more freely? Either way, I’d have to have it out with them even if I lost two possible friends in the process. Keeping those sort of secrets never really works out in the long run as I’d found out to my cost.

---

My walk had made me quite peckish so I was looking forward to lunch. The kitchen was empty when I returned to the cottage. I guessed that they were still upstairs. I decided not to disturb them so I kept the door closed while I made myself a cheese and pickle sandwich.

I felt good having had some exercise without lugging my rucksack along with me. I'd gotten used to this over the past months and despite the hardships of living rough, this was one part of the life that I was not willing to give up easily.

I’d just finished washing up the dirty plates when I heard some noise from upstairs. I tried to think of a good way to tell them what I’d seen earlier but nothing came to mind before the kitchen door opened and Yasmine came in.

“You’re back?”

“About half an hour ago. I fixed myself a cheese and pickle sandwich.”

“Oh. Why didn’t you call out?”

I gave her what I hoped was a small smile.
“I really didn’t want to interrupt you.”

Yasmine gave a little start. She now knew that I knew.

“I’m not one to blab so you don’t have to worry about me.”

Yasmine sat down with a look of resignation on her face.
“Wha… What did you see?”

"I saw the two of you in a passionate embrace. If that makes you happy then go for it.”

“Really? Do you mean that?”

I nodded.
“I do. Besides, I’m not family, am I? When this is over, we’ll go our separate ways and that will be that. I'm not the sort of person who spreads gossip. You are both consenting adults and, to be honest, I have more important things to worry about.”

Yasmine started to say something but stopped herself. Instead, she left me alone.

I heard voices from upstairs. There were a few raised tones. It was easy to guess what was going on. I knew that I’d hear all about it very soon.

---

I didn’t have to wait long before they both came downstairs.

“Did you see us kissing?” asked Jennifer.

“I did. I came back the long way round because the water in the stream opposite had submerged the stepping stones in the Ford. I came up the hill behind the cottage and saw you both. Don’t get me wrong… I don’t have a problem with that. What you two do is your business.”

Jennifer sat down opposite me. She pulled out her laptop and after a bit of keyboard wizardry, she swung it around and showed something to me.

“This is what we were working on this morning.”

I was looking at a letter of resignation with Jennifer’s name at the top.

“Yasmine has one as well. We can't agree on which one to send.”

"That's your business. I just don't want to know. All I want to know is when is my former wife that wasn't going to be arrested and deported?”

"That will happen very soon, Craig.”

“Good,” I said.
“I’m going to take a shower.”

---

From the voices I could hear from my bedroom that Jennifer and Yasmine were in deep conversation. I couldn’t tell what it was about but I felt sure that I was involved in it somewhere. The fact that I knew about their relationship had brought matters to a climax. For the life of me, I could not figure out what my part was in what they were talking about was.

After my shower, I felt a lot better. Not being able to shower after a day spent pounding the footpaths, bridleways and disused railway tracks was one thing that I would not miss but deep down inside, I knew that whatever was going on with me here was very temporary.

Once Imanuela was in custody, I’d more than likely be back on the streets.

With that to look forward to, I started to think that it might be advantageous to move location. Getting away from the area that I’d lived in for all of my adult life was going to be a wrench, a very big wrench but at that moment, I had very little idea about where I should go.

I remembered a book that my dad had when I was a child. He used to show me bits of it when we went off on Holiday. He loved exploring old railway tracks.

I felt a tear well up inside me as I thought back to our last holiday together. We’d all gone to North Norfolk for a week. It had been great until the 3rd day. Mum had gone with the car into Sheringham to do some shopping leaving us at a small village called Melton Constable.

Dad had been very disappointed to find very little remaining of what was once a major junction of several lines. That’s when he just keeled over and died. His heart had given out. I found out later that he’d been on borrowed time for well over a year and my Mum had demanded that I was kept in the dark. That had pretty well destroyed any relationship could have with my Mother.

Then it came to me. The name of the book was ‘British Railways Sectional Diagrams’. Dad would mark every station that he’d visited. He had a photo album that he’d started as a child. It had pictures of all the stations he’d visited that were no longer in use. The last few dozen had included me. I wondered where that Album was now?

I wished that I had a copy of the book right now. I could think about planning a new location to explore. Dorset or Somerset sounded good. Then it hit me. There was a railway called ‘The Somerset and Dorset Joint Railway’. I remembered Dad lamenting at its closure due to what he called ‘that Bastard Beeching’ and the lovely terminus that they’d had in Bath that was now a supermarket.

The day after my eighteenth birthday I simply packed a bag and walked out. I sent a postcard from Margate telling her why. I never went back. There was nothing for me in Southend anymore. Margate is around 30 miles from Southend as the crow flies or over 100 by road but it might as well have been a million for all I could care. I left Margate the next day and never looked back.

Now, twelve years later, I was at yet another crossroads in my life. I’d had five good years with Imanuela until… she’d gone rogue.

The voices from downstairs had stopped. I wondered what they were doing? There was nothing else to do but to go down and find out.

[to be continued]