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The next morning, I woke early, only to find a post-it stuck to the door between our rooms.
There’s been some info from the PI, I need to go check it out. Levi’s going to take you to Sheffield, and I’ll meet you there later. Don’t worry, everything will be okay!
Tom
I hadn’t had much time to talk to Levi yet, but he seemed like a funny guy who was sure to have some stories to tell. I knew that the other member of the team, Nathan, was also now with us. But there was still something that made me feel a little disappointed I wasn’t going to get more time in the sole company of Tom again.
Whatever it was he had heard about, I hoped it was something that would help to sort this whole Natasha situation out.
CHAPTER 9
TOM
The next morning I was woken early by a text from Eric. He had sent me some emails with the information that was finally starting to come together about Natasha. Her ex-husband, Trevor, lived in Leicester, and given how close we were to there, I figured I would get in the car and take myself over to his house for a little chat.
I left a message on the door for Lennox, then told Levi of the latest update and that he would have to do the run through of the venue. Nathan was back from holiday, having arrived yesterday looking very tanned and relaxed, so he would be able to be around for Lennox while I was away and Levi was at the venue.
It was about an hour later when I pulled up outside the unassuming detached, early 1900s house on Linden Drive in the Evington area of the city. Checking that I had the right address, I got out, locked the car, and approached the front door.
My knock was answered by a tall burly man with gingery-blond hair, green eyes, and a surprisingly gentle air about him, despite his large physique. “Hello?” He smiled.
“Uh, hi, Mr. Gibson. You don’t know me, my name’s Tom Thatcher, but I’m here about your ex-wife Natasha. I’m afraid she might be in a bit of trouble with a singer, Lennox Love,” I started and waited for his reaction to my statement, watching closely.
A variety of emotions flickered across his face. Confusion, worry, understanding, and an element of defeat. “You’d best come in, I think,” he said, standing back and opening the door wide for me to enter. “Is Tasha okay?” Was his first question as I stepped inside.
“At the minute, yes, but she’s going to be in a lot of trouble if she keeps acting how she has been.”
He concurred, and I got the impression he had been waiting for a conversation like the one that was about to happen here.
“Can I make you a coffee?” he asked and directed me to a sofa in the large open plan kitchen-diner-family room at the back of the house.
I nodded and took a seat. “I’m going to be honest with you, Mr Gibson.”
“Call me Trevor,” he interrupted.
“Trevor,” I corrected. “I work for Lennox Love. I was employed by his record label to look after his safety after an incident where Natasha broke into his hotel room.”
Trevor sighed. “Yeah, I had the police here after that. I hadn’t seen her in months.”
“Is that still the case?” I asked, picking up on his phrasing.
“She called not long after it to be honest, telling me that if the police contacted me, I wasn’t to tell them about her and Lennox. She’s not well, Mr Thatcher.” His voice sounded genuinely concerned.
“Please, call me Tom.” I smiled. “Do you mind if I ask you about what happened between you?”
Trevor shook his head. “Not at all, Tom. It’s not really that much of a story. I loved my wife very much, I still do love her, and I worry about her more than you can know.”
Taking the mug of coffee he offered, I listened as he settled on the other sofa and told me everything that had happened to end his marriage.
“Natasha’s not a bad person. You have to believe that. She’s just – well she’s had a hard life, and sometimes, it’s caused problems for her. I won’t go into the details of it, because it’s not mine to tell. But it was bad, it caused her trauma, and it left her looking for comfort in places that weren’t always good for her.”
“Does she have any history of substance abuse?”
He shook his head. “God no, nothing like that. It’s just that she can have trouble with knowing what’s real.”
“Delusional then?”
Again, Trevor disagreed. “No. God, it’s so hard to explain. It’s like she just becomes so obsessed with something that she can’t see the truth, and she reads too much into things.”
