A Summer of Secrets

by Lorna Peel

  “Okay, I’ll organise something.”

  Returning to the abbey, Sophia found Thomas standing back to look at the now roped-off drawing room.

  “It looks good.” He smiled at her. “Hopefully, that rope will do the trick, but Des said that there’s no hurry with returning the camcorder.”

  “Good. Right, I’m going to the flat for some lunch and I’m off up the moors with or without you, at two.”

  “I’ll be on time.”

  “The door’s open,” she called an hour later, hearing footsteps on the stairs. The door opened and closed and she turned. Her heart lurched when she saw a stranger, not Thomas. “Who the hell are you?”

  “Where’s Stephanie?” he asked instead of answering.

  “You’re Simon?”

  “Ten out of ten. Now, where’s Stephanie?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Do I have to look for her?”

  “If you want but you won’t find her. She went out early this morning and she’s not back yet.”

  He nodded. “I’ll just have to wait, then.” He went to an armchair and sat down. “Who are you?”

  “This isn’t Stephanie’s flat.”

  “So she lives in one of these flats?”

  Sophia could have kicked herself. “Could you please leave? I’m going out.”

  “I asked who are you?”

  “Get out.”

  “Not until you tell me who you are.” He crossed his legs.

  “My name is Sophia. Now get out.”

  “Ready?” They heard Thomas’ voice from below and Simon leapt out of his chair.

  “You’re his girlfriend? I heard that he was shagging someone at long last. Well, well.”

  “Get out.”

  “Sophia?” Thomas called.

  “Thomas.” She half-screamed as she saw the knife.

  “Shut up.” Simon went to the door and turned the key in the lock. “He owes me for all that stuff he chucked away.”

  “He hasn’t got any money.”

  “Sophia?” Thomas was outside the door at the top of the stairs.

  “Don’t you even think of breaking it down,” Simon ordered. “Or I’ll cut her throat.”

  “What do you want?” Thomas demanded.

  “You owe me five grand, Heaton.”

  “Don’t be bloody ridiculous.”

  “Finally getting your leg over, eh?” Simon laughed. “Better late than never.”

  “Police.” Sophia heard his voice, presumably speaking into his phone. “Yes, my girlfriend is being held hostage. Heaton Abbey. Yes, a knife, I think. My name’s Thomas Heaton.”

  “You shouldn’t have done that, Heaton,” Simon called casually.

  “Then let her go before they arrive.”

  “How much is she worth to you, Heaton? More than five thousand quid?”

  “Let her go,” Thomas repeated.

  “Is he a good shag?” Simon asked her conversationally. “You know, I was getting quite worried about him. Public school can do that to a chap. Poor Thomas, at school he wouldn’t say boo to a goose.”

  “You were at school together?” she stammered.

  “Didn’t he tell you?”

  “No.”

  “Oh, yes,” Simon laughed. “We were very close. I mean, a lot of us experimented, not just with drugs, but you’re the first shag, male or female that poor old Thomas has had in years.”

  “He’s not bisexual.”

  “Isn’t he?”

  Simon had walked to the door and Sophia saw her chance. She raced to the bedroom and slammed the door. She turned the key in the lock and dragged a chair across the floor, wedging it under the handle.

  “Bitch,” Simon roared.

  “Sophia?”

  “I’m in the bedroom,” she screamed, opening the window.

  She heard Thomas thundering down the stairs and running outside. From the window, she saw Des running across the stable yard with a ladder and in the distance, she could hear police sirens. She threw open the window as the ladder was propped up against the wall. She was about to climb out when the bedroom door burst open, sending the chair flying, and she was pulled backwards. The last thing she knew was falling backwards with Simon before everything went black.

  Chapter Nine

  When she came to, a complete stranger was leaning over her. She had to blink a few times to reassure herself that it wasn’t Simon. Somewhere in the background she heard raised voices.

  “What’s going on?” she asked groggily.

  “You’re in hospital. I’m Dr Healy. Let’s take a look.”

  “I meant out there?” she added.

  “Your father and your boyfriend are arguing.”

  “Sophia?” She heard her father’s voice and he came into focus. “How are you, love?”

  “Sore. Is that Thomas?”

  “He’s gone, love, don’t worry.”

  “Gone?” she repeated. “What’ve you said? Dad? Thomas, are you there?”

  “I’m here,” he said in a low voice.

  “Come here.”

  “Never mind him now,” her father protested. “Let the doctor take a look at you.”

  “In a minute. Thomas?”

  “How are you?” He bent and kissed her forehead.

  “A bit groggy.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  She gave him a wobbly smile. “It wasn’t your fault.”

  “No?” He kissed her lips this time and straightened up. “I’d better let the doctor examine you. I’ll see you later.”

  After being examined, she was told that she would have to remain in hospital for twenty-four hours for observation due to slight concussion. She thanked the doctor then turned to her father, sitting in a chair beside her bed.

  “What did you say to Thomas, Dad?”

  “Not now.”

  “Yes, now,” she replied stubbornly. “What did you say to him?”

  “That you won’t be going back to the abbey.”

  “What?” she cried, her head beginning to throb. “Don’t be ridiculous; of course I’m going back. For God’s sake, Dad, I’m thirty-three years old.”

  “And if you stay there any longer you mightn’t make thirty-four.”

  “Was Simon arrested?” she asked.

  “No.”

  Her heart pounded. So he was still out there somewhere? “What happened?”

  “Never you mind for now. You just rest.”

  “No, tell me now, or I’ll go and ask Thomas.”

  Her father sighed. “All right. Simon jumped out of the window.”

  She stared at him. “He’s dead?”

  “He and Heaton fought in the stable yard but he managed to get away before the police got there.”

  “Is Thomas all right? He looked all right to me.”

  “Yes. Now rest.”

  She did and woke feeling less groggy and with her father still sitting beside the bed. “Did you go home at all?”

  He smiled. “I did. You’ve been asleep for sixteen hours.”

  Sixteen? “Right, can you get a doctor to look at me so I can go home?”

  “Sophia…”

  “Dad. Please.”

  An hour later she was in the process of being discharged but not so she could go home as she lived alone. She would have to spend the next twenty-four hours at her father’s.

  “Are you Sophia Nelson?”

  She turned. A nurse was approaching her with a scrap of paper.

  “Yes, I am.”

  “Thomas Heaton asked me to give you this note.”

  “Oh.” She took the note. “Thank you.”

  Sophia

  Your father has ordered me to keep away from you, hence the note. I’m upstairs in the Intensive Care Unit. Simon went straight to Steph’s apartment in Leeds and when she refused to give him five thousand pounds, he stabbed her before killing himself. She was in surgery most of last night and things were a bit touch and go but she’s stabilised in the las
t couple of hours. I’ll come down to you if I can but your father was naturally very upset so don’t worry if you don’t see me.

  Love you.

  Thomas

  “Ready?” her father asked.

  She folded the note and put it in her pocket. “When were you going to tell me about Stephanie and Simon?”

  He rolled his eyes. “That note was from him, I suppose?”

  “Yes, and I’m going upstairs to see him. Then…” she added as he opened his mouth to argue. “Then you can take me back to The Beeches.”

  She stepped out of the lift and followed the signs to the Intensive Care Unit. She pressed the intercom and asked to speak to Thomas.

  The door opened five minutes later. “Sophia.” Gently, he clasped her face in his hands and kissed her lips. “How do you feel?”

  “Sore. How’s Stephanie?”

  He went to a bench, sat down heavily, and she sat beside him. “Her spleen had to be removed. The doctor said it went well, the operation.”

  “I’m glad.”

  “The police want to speak to you whenever you’re up to it.”

  “Okay. Simon killed himself?”

  “Yes. Do you really have to go home now?”

  “Yes, she does,” her father replied and she jumped, not having heard him follow her. “Sophia has concussion and needs rest.”

  Thomas nodded and kissed her forehead.

  “Ring me?” she said, taking the note out of her pocket. “Have you a pen?” He pulled one from his jacket’s inside pocket and passed it to her. “This is Dad’s number,” she added, scribbling the number down. “My phone is still at the flat. I’ll be back in the morning, I promise.”

  He nodded again and took the pen and note from her. She kissed his lips then reluctantly followed her father back to the lift.

  She opened her eyes and looked at the clock. Eight o’clock. Despite being back on her father’s uncomfortable sofa, she’d slept for twelve hours with no interruptions. She quickly washed and dressed before opening her father’s bedroom door and looking in at him. He was still asleep, snoring a little. She wrote him a note then went to the telephone. There were no messages. She sighed and left the flat. Deciding to get the police over and done with first, she went to the police station where she was questioned and made a statement. That done, and taking the shortcut from the town via the ornamental lake, she made her way back to the abbey.

  “Sophia?” Des opened the door of his office as she crossed the stable yard. “How are you?”

  “My head is still a bit sore but I’m fine apart from that. Thanks for helping.”

  “I’m just sorry police didn’t get the bastard.”

  She nodded. “Did you hear about Stephanie?”

  Des nodded. “His Lordship rang me.”

  “Has he rung you since last night?”

  “No.” He frowned. “What’ve you heard?”

  “I spoke to him just before I left last night. Stephanie’s spleen had to be removed.” Des winced. “The last I heard, she was stable. I’m going to the hospital now. Have you the keys to my flat?”

  “They’re in a drawer in my office. Should you be driving?”

  “Probably not, but I’m going anyway.”

  “The police want to speak to you at some stage,” he said, going to his desk and retrieving the keys.

  “I’ve just come from the police station. Thanks, Des.”

  She took the keys from him and climbed the stairs to the flat. Someone had been inside to tidy up. She took a few gulps of orange juice straight from the carton in the fridge then grabbed her car keys.

  Approaching the hospital entrance, she saw Thomas light up a cigarette and inhale deeply before spotting her and stubbing it out. He looked terrible, even worse than the previous evening, his face grey with exhaustion.

  “How is she?” she asked as he held her in his arms.

  “On the mend. She regained consciousness last night. She’s sleeping now.”

  “Thank goodness for that. And you?”

  He shrugged. “Not good. I’m absolutely exhausted.”

  “When did you last eat?”

  “Haven’t a clue.”

  “Right, come on.” She took his hand. “There’s a café just past the lifts.” She bought them coffee and scrambled egg on toast and they ate at a corner table.

  When they went up to the Intensive Care Unit in the lift and the lift doors opened, Lady Heaton was standing outside.

  “I was about to come looking for you, Thomas. Stephanie has woken up.”

  “Good,” he replied simply and walked past her.

  Sophia shot an apologetic look at Lady Heaton before following him.

  Outside the I.C.U., she halted. “I’ll wait here.”

  “No, come in.”

  “No. I won’t be allowed,” she protested. “It should be you and—”

  “My ‘mother’?”

  “For now, yes. Go and see Stephanie. I’ll wait here.”

  He nodded and went inside.

  “Is he all right?” Lady Heaton approached her.

  “Relieved,” she replied.

  “And how are you?”

  “My head still aches a little bit but apart from that I’m fine, thank you.” She went to the bench and sat down. “I’ll wait here.”

  Half an hour later, Lady Heaton emerged from the I.C.U. “Stephanie wants to see you, Sophia.”

  “Oh.” She got up. “Thank you.”

  A nurse showed her the way and Thomas rose from a chair beside the bed as she opened the door to Stephanie’s room.

  “Come and sit down here.”

  She walked around the bed and sat down. Stephanie looked tiny in the bed and Sophia eyed all the tubes attached to her chest and the drip attached to her arm.

  “I had a tube down my throat,” Stephanie croaked. “So I sound awful.” Sophia smiled sympathetically. “My spleen, eh?” She rolled her eyes. “Wasn’t quite how I planned to lose a bit of weight.”

  “Would you like me to bring you in some magazines for when you’re up to a bit of reading?” Sophia offered.

  “Yes, thank you. Doesn’t matter what. I’m not fussy. I just wanted to say sorry.”

  “Sorry?”

  “Simon could have killed you too,” Stephanie explained.

  “We Yorkshire girls are made of strong stuff.”

  Stephanie grinned. “Didn’t even know what a spleen did until he,” she nodded at Thomas, “explained it to me. Now, go home the both of you. Sleep. You look almost as bad as I do.”

  “We’ll be back later.” Thomas kissed her cheek.

  “And shave,” Stephanie croaked after him.

  Lady Heaton got up from the bench as they left the I.C.U.

  “Stephanie’s starting to order me about so she’s definitely on the mend and we’re going home,” Thomas informed her. “Are you staying here?”

  “You look exhausted, Lady Heaton,” Sophia added. “I think you need to get some sleep.”

  Lady Heaton nodded. “I’ll just tell Stephanie. I’ll follow you down to the car.”

  “Come on.” Thomas took Sophia’s hand and they walked to the lift. In the lift, he rubbed his eyes. “Ideally, I need to sleep for twelve hours.”

  “Then, why don’t you? I’ll come and wake you later.”

  “Will you?” He smiled.

  She laughed. “Yes.”

  “Then, Lady Heaton and I need to talk.”

  At half-past eight that evening, Sophia drove back to the abbey from a shopping trip. She unpacked her groceries and went into the house by the side door to wake Thomas. Closing it, she stopped, hearing raised voices. She crept up the stairs towards Lady Heaton’s sitting room. The door was open and Thomas was standing with his back to her, listening to Lady Heaton.

  “Stephanie is going to know that there is something wrong…”

  Lady Heaton tailed off and stared at her. Sophia flushed as Thomas turned.

  “Sophia. Come in.”


  “No, I just—”

  “Come in,” he repeated. “Lady Heaton and I were just discussing how to continue to keep Stephanie in the dark.”

  “I sincerely hope Miss Nelson is fertile,” Lady Heaton said and Sophia flushed with indignation. “We wouldn’t want to have to go through all this again.”

  “You leave Sophia out of this,” Thomas snapped.

  “I’ve been watching you since you told me about your relationship. You can hardly keep your eyes off her. The funny thing is that your father was just the same. We had a very short courtship before he told me that he loved me and that he wanted to marry me. When Heaton men love, Sophia, they love quickly and deeply. And he did the only thing he could do at the time in order to give us children with Heaton blood. Hate us if you wish, Thomas, but Heatons have lived here for almost half a millennium and your father and I did not want to be the ones who brought that to an end. If you wish to shout at me again later, I shall be in the garden.”

  Sophia quickly turned and followed her into the hall. “Lady Heaton?”

  “Yes? Sophia. I’m sorry for casting aspersions on your fertility.”

  “There is nothing wrong with my fertility as far as I’m aware,” she told the older woman stiffly. “Did Danielle have to sign a secrecy clause?”

  “No, the agreement was that she have the baby, hand the baby over, and then leave.”

  “So was Thomas born in town?”

  “No, she came here for the birth.”

  “Was there never any hesitancy on her part?”

  “No,” Lady Heaton replied, sounding a little surprised. “You cannot understand how a woman can sell her children?”

  “No, I can’t understand, because if I were to have children it would be with a man I loved.”

  “Not Thomas?”

  “Lady Heaton—” Sophia began but the other woman interrupted her.

  “Sophia, if you cannot love him, tell him now. He needs to marry and have children.”

  “Was Danielle allowed to contact you?”

  Lady Heaton frowned. “Why do you ask?”

  “Did you not worry that she may turn up here? I mean, she often visits Michelle.”

  “I wondered if she might. But so far she hasn’t been here. Go to Thomas, but remember, if you do not want children, tell him now then leave and don’t come back.”

  She found Thomas seated in an armchair in the library and sat on his lap.