JUDE was the inventive genius behind it all; he created the electronic gadgetry Darius marketed with such flair and success. They had been at school together and were close friends, which was surprising in itself, because Jude was very much a backroom boffin, the loner type who rarely emerged from his workroom and was scared stiff of other people. Samantha only knew him vaguely.
Occasionally, over the years, Darius had wrinkled Jude out of his shell and dragged him home to lunch or dinner, quite often at first in their poky little two-room flat in Maidstone during the first year of their marriage, when money was so tight, and then to each of their homes in turn as the company grew and prospered and they moved up market until they ended up at Lambourne five years ago.
Success had come quite fast. Electronics was a business which moved at the speed of light, and Jude was a brilliant man, shy and inarticulate, clumsy and uncertain in human relations, but blindingly clever. Samantha felt quite at home with him when she did meet him, because she didn't need to feel that Jude expected anything more of her than she had to offer.
She was shy, so was he; she didn't find it easy to make small talk, nor did he. They sat in silence together and listened to music; it had amused Darius.
"You two are a matching pair!" he'd teased them at first, then as time went by he was rarely at home himself for long and he stopped bringing Jude. The two men still worked closely, and the company was still dependent on them both...on Jude's inventions and Darius's business capacity.
Samantha stood still on the pavement, thinking. People swerved round her, exclaimed irritably. "Do you mind?" or "Excuse me!" She hardly heard them as she processed an idea.
Suddenly she swung towards the road and hailed a passing taxi. The company headquarters had recently moved into a modern office block in the eastern edge of the City of London.
Samantha had only been there twice: the day Darius signed the lease and took her and Jude out to lunch to celebrate...and one day when she and Paris were shown around the two floors which the company occupied. Darius had invited them, but he had been detained on urgent business and it had been Jude who showed them around.
He was never as shy with Paris. Children weren't as alarming to him, perhaps. He had taken them out to lunch in a fast-food place; he and Paris had vied with each other to eat the most beefburgers and drink the most milkshakes.
Paris had had a great time, and Samantha had enjoyed the day, too. She always liked to see her daughter looking that happy. Jude was a nice man. Paris thought so. She did, too.
That afternoon, Jude had told them quite a lot about himself in one way or another, she remembered, looking at her watch eagerly. He had mentioned casually that most days he went for a walk to clear his head at around four o'clock in the afternoon, and stopped off for a burger and a milkshake before going back to his workroom. He might have made that up for Paris's benefit, but on the other hand he might have told the truth.
It was a quarter to four when her taxi deposited her outside the office block. She walked to and fro on the pavement, watching the main entrance, now and then looking at her watch as time ticked past without any sign of Jude. The uniformed commissionaire noticed her and came over to the great plate...glass door to stare out at her.
Samantha halted in front of a shop opposite and stared into the window with her back to the road. She could still see the office block reflected in the glass. The commissionaire walked away. She saw him salute casually as a jogging figure went past him and emerged into the street.
It was Jude; a very tall man in a blue and black track suit and blue track shoes, his brown hair ruffled and untidy, his body loping easily in practiced strides. Samantha ran after him, calling his name, and he slowed and turned to stare, then stopped dead.
"Samantha?" His brown eyes were wide with surprise. She saw a scar on the side of his cheek and remembered him telling Paris that it was inflicted years ago by a very bad-tempered pet monkey. Jude loved animals, even when they were unpredictable. She caught up with him, smiled shakily, nodding.
"Hello, Jude." He stared down at her, pushing his windblown hair back from his face and frowning.
"Are you looking for Darius? He isn't here, he's in..."
"Wales. I know. I was waiting for you, not Darius."
"For me?" His voice was comically incredulous, and she laughed more in affection than amusement. Jude was really rather endearing. She liked that shyness of his; he was more human than Darius. He was more her sort of person; she and Jude were both less able to face life than Darius had always been.
"Yes, for you," she said. "I need to talk to you, Jude. I need your help."
"Is something wrong? Concern shaped his puzzled gaze. "Is it Paris? She isn't ill is she? Has there been an accident? I know where to get in touch with Darius in an emergency, so come back inside, up to my office..."
She shook her head as he tried to pull her back towards the office block. "No, it isn't Paris, it's nothing like that. I just need to talk to you, Jude. Can we go somewhere quiet where we won't be interrupted?"
"My office?"
"No. Didn't you tell Paris that you had a beef burger somewhere around here every afternoon?" He looked startled.