Family Divided

by Allen, Anne

  ‘He’s agreed to go round tomorrow morning to see Maud and witness her signature. And he’ll ring me when

  he’s been. All we can do is hope she’s well enough to sign,’ she said, giving him a kiss.

  Andy frowned. ‘Maud’s that ill? Hmm, it’d be sod’s law if she died before he got there.’ He pushed a hand

  through his hair as he paced around. Suddenly he stopped and grabbed her. ‘Whatever happens, I now know the

  truth and can tell Dad who killed Edmund. Which is something. And it’s down to you, the most clever, beautiful

  woman I’ve ever known. Thank you.’ He kissed her hungrily on the mouth and she melted into his arms, all the

  excitement and worry pushed aside as the heat rose in her body. Whispering, ‘Come on, let’s go upstairs,’ Andy

  led the way to the bedroom.

  Later, languid from their lovemaking, they lay in each other’s arms as they talked about the possible

  repercussions of Maud’s shock confession.

  Andy stroked her cheek as he said, ‘If, and I know it’s a big if, but if we get a signed statement and then Maud

  dies, then Martin or whoever, is free to report it to the police, right?’

  She nodded, almost asleep under his touch.

  ‘So, assuming Harold’s arrested, and by God I’d do my best to make sure he was, then Dad would be

  acknowledged as Edmund’s heir. Agreed?’

  ‘Yes, but something still doesn’t add up. Even without Harold being proved to be the killer, your father’s the

  natural heir and always has been. But he hasn’t pursued it for some reason. I wonder what really happened

  when he met Harold? And whether or not Harold’s guilt changes that?’

  Andy fell onto his back and stared at the ceiling. ‘I don’t know and can only hope when he knows the truth

  about Harold he’ll change his mind. Perhaps he’s had a misguided sense of loyalty to Harold for working on the

  farm over the years and didn’t want to deprive him of his livelihood. It beats me! But once Harold is charged I’ll

  encourage Dad to make a claim. Surely he couldn’t want that bloody cousin of mine to inherit!’ he said, banging

  his fists together in anger.

  Charlotte reached over and kissed him. ‘Hey, stay calm. I’m sure it will all be resolved. It might take some

  time, but I have a feeling in my bones–’

  ‘Oh, do you? Well, please tell me more,’ he teased, taking her in his arms again and dropping kisses on her

  breasts. As her own body responded all thoughts of explaining anything disappeared and she gave herself up to

  his lovemaking.

  Andy left the next morning looking, Charlotte thought, like the proverbial cat on a hot tin roof. She didn’t blame

  him, she felt on edge herself and it wasn’t her family’s skeletons coming out of the cupboard. Wondering briefly

  if there were any in the Townsend dynasty, and deciding she couldn’t cope with any more angst, she tried to

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  focus on her writing. It took a while for her to pick up where she had left off the previous day, but the words

  finally made a reluctant appearance on the screen, absorbing all her attention. Charlotte stopped only to make a

  coffee late morning and was tapping away happily when her mobile rang.

  ‘Hello, Charlotte. It’s Martin. Just to let you know I’ve been round to see Mrs Batiste and she’s signed the

  statement and I acted as witness.’

  Relief flooded through her and she punched the air silently. ‘Thanks for letting me know, I can relax knowing

  it’s what she wanted. How – how was Mrs Batiste?’

  ‘Worse, I’m afraid. But oddly, she seemed relieved, more peaceful. I think telling someone what happened has

  freed her in some way. She has my word nothing will be made public while she lives and is now ready to accept

  the inevitable.’

  ‘Do you know how long…?’

  ‘Her doctor arrived while I was on the way out and said he thinks it’s a matter of days, a week at the most.’

  ‘Oh dear. Well, again thank you for phoning, Martin. I’m leaving on Saturday so may not see Mrs Batiste again,

  but I do plan on coming back soon.’ They said their goodbyes and Charlotte immediately rang a delighted Andy.

  It was now only a question of time…

  ~ ~

  After receiving Charlotte’s call Andy let out a whoop. Fortunately he was alone in the office, his client having left

  moments before. Pushing his hands through his hair he stood up and did a circuit of the small space between the

  desks. He found it hard to take in. After more than sixty years Edmund’s name was about to be cleared. He could

  no longer be made to feel ashamed of his grandfather. Not that he had for one moment accepted his guilt, but

  others had. In his mind it was what others thought of him and his family that mattered, though Andy was aware

  it was stupid. His father had been perceived as the “poor relation”, the “outcast”, and Andy’s short fuse had been

  lit too often by snide remarks from other boys at school. In a small island like Guernsey even an old scandal like

  Edmund’s had not been allowed to die completely. Thinking about it now, Andy wondered if Harold had kept the

  embers burning over the years, determined to paint a black picture of James Batiste, son of the traitor Edmund.

  Sitting down again, Andy phoned his father to ask if he could come round and see them both. Jim sounded

  surprised but said they were in for the rest of the day. Thinking there was no time like the present, Andy

  grabbed his keys and left.

  His mother answered the door and smiled.

  ‘It is lovely to see you, mon chér. There is something wrong, no?’ she asked, the smile replaced by a frown.

  ‘No, Maman, there’s – there’s something important I need to tell you both.’

  Yvette’s eyebrows rose. ‘You are making a mystery. Let us go into the sitting room, your father is reading the

  paper.’

  ‘Hi, Dad. How are you? Back okay now?’ he said, sinking into the sofa.

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  Jim folded up the copy of the Guernsey Evening Press and studied his son. ‘I’m okay, lad. That nice physio lady,

  Louisa, says I can start doing a bit more fishing as long as I don’t spend too much time out in the boat. Did I hear

  you tell your mother you’ve something important to say? If so, you’d better spit it out because you look as if

  you’re about to burst.’

  Andy took a deep breath. ‘Remember I told you Jeanne was writing a book set in the occupation?’ His parents

  nodded. ‘Well, she…asked a friend to do some research, which included talking to people who were here at the

  time and one of those who came forward was Maud Batiste,’ he said, seeing his father’s head jerk in surprise.

  ‘Old Maud? But she’s bed bound, so I heard. How could she have–’

  ‘The researcher had apparently requested the help of the vicar to find old parishioners willing to talk. The

  rector of St Martins visits Maud regularly, so I understand, and how it came about she interviewed Maud at

  home.’ Andy felt his palms moisten at the white lies but believed it was justified.

  Jim nodded. ‘Go on.’

  ‘It turns out Maud had something on her conscience and called the woman back a second time to…to confide

  in her.’ He noticed his mother lean forward and clasp his father’s hand. Jim’s face was inscrutable. ‘What she told

  her was to be kept confidential until after her death, which is likely to be within days according to her doctor.’

  ‘So how do you know
about it then?’ Jim butted in.

  ‘I’ll explain later, Dad. What it boils down to is this. She saw Harold fight and kill Edmund and has kept it a

  secret until now.’

  Yvette gasped, her hand flying to her mouth and Jim’s eyes widened in horror.

  ‘You’re telling me Harold killed his brother? I know he’s a bully and a cheat but…to kill his own brother! I find

  that hard to believe. Couldn’t she have made it up?’

  ‘Why would she? Maud doesn’t come out of this at all well. She witnessed a murder and did nothing about it.

  Even went on to marry the bastard. But it’s been on her conscience all this time and she wants Harold to get his

  just deserts.’

  Yvette, looking dazed, asked, ‘Did she not say why he killed Edmund?’

  ‘Yes, she heard them arguing. And this is crucial, Dad,’ he said, ‘Edmund knew Harold was an informer and

  told him he knew, so Harold started the rumour it was Edmund. Your father found out Harold was still playing

  dirty and was going to report him. It’s why Harold killed him.’ Andy sat back on the sofa, feeling drained.

  ‘So the ol’ bugger really did it, did he? Can’t say I’d be sorry to see him banged up. He could share a cell with

  his no-good grandson of his. That’s assuming the police can prove it, which I doubt after all this time,’ Jim said,

  stroking his chin.

  ‘Maud signed a witnessed statement describing what happened, and we…I think it should be enough to

  convict him. At the very least, Dad, it means he’d be stripped of everything he owns – the house, land, various

  properties and cash – and you’d be entitled to them. You’d be a wealthy man, Dad,’ he said, leaning forward.

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  Yvette gasped. ‘Wealthy! Us! Oh, that would be–’

  ‘Impossible! I’m not the heir and never was. So forget about me inheriting anything,’ Jim said, red-faced.

  Andy couldn’t believe it. ‘Not the heir? But of course you are, Dad, you’re Edmund’s son–’

  Jim, his shoulders sagging as if bearing a heavy weight, shook his head. ‘No, that’s where you’re wrong, lad.

  I’m not Edmund’s son. My mother…had an affair. I…was illegitimate.’

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  The Family Divided

  chapter thirty-one

  It was if he had been punched hard in the solar plexus. For a moment Andy felt the breath leave his body and he

  couldn’t speak. His parents were hazy figures in the room and he could hear sounds emanating from their

  mouths but couldn’t make out the words. What had his father said? Not Edmund’s son? It couldn’t be true! It

  would be too cruel now…

  ‘Andy? Sorry, lad. It’s been a bit of a shock for you, I know. Was for me, too.’

  His eyes cleared and he saw his father leaning towards him and gripping his arm. Behind Jim his mother’s

  pale face hovered into view.

  ‘Dad, please tell me. What makes you so sure your mother had an affair and you were the result?’

  ‘Well, he told me when I first met him, that I wasn’t Edmund’s son,’ Jim said, fidgeting in his chair.

  ‘Who’s “he”, Dad? Your mother’s lover?’ Andy was shocked. Surely this was a nightmare and he’d wake up

  soon…

  ‘No, no I never met him. He was dead, so I was told. It was Harold who told me…’ A look of uncertainty flitted

  across his father’s face.

  Andy began to relax. ‘You’re telling me Harold said Madeleine had an affair and you believed him? Did he

  have any proof? What did your mother say?’

  Jim coughed, keeping his head down. ‘He said it was well known she was seeing one of the neighbours,

  shortly before Edmund died. Said maybe Edmund had found out and challenged the man and that’s why he’d

  ended up dead.’

  ‘Dad, I understand why you might have been…misled at the time, but now you know what really happened to

  Edmund, do you still believe what Harold told you?’

  His father’s face crumpled in misery and Andy stood up and hugged him. Yvette, mouthing “coffee”,

  disappeared to the kitchen, while Andy continued to hold his father. That bloody bastard Harold! He wanted to

  kill him for what he’d done to his family. Pity they no longer hanged murderers, though hanging was too good

  for someone like Harold.

  ‘Did you ever ask Grandma about this?’ he asked eventually.

  ‘God no! You can’t ask your mother something like that. But she rarely talked about the time of Edmund’s

  death, said it was too painful and it made me wonder if what he said could be true. Harold threatened to take me

  to court if I pursued a claim and said he’d testify my mother was having an affair and bring more scandal down

  on our heads. And remember there was no DNA testing back then.’ Andy saw the tears in his eyes. ‘I couldn’t risk

  it, son. I couldn’t blacken our name further and hadn’t the money for advocates. And at the time, back in the 60s,

  the house didn’t look much and the land wasn’t worth an awful lot. Not like now.’

  ‘I understand, Dad. I’m not blaming you, I’m angry with that…that bastard Harold, and his pack of lies. Please

  say you no longer believe him.’

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  Jim shook his head. ‘No, I don’t.’

  Yvette arrived with a pot of coffee and handed round cups before sitting next to Jim.

  Looking from her husband to Andy, she said, ‘Is everything all right, now? Is it true we will be wealthy?’

  Andy grinned. ‘It looks like it, Maman. Although it might take a while.’

  ‘Oh, I can wait. But it would be nice to make a holiday somewhere warm this winter. It would do your father’s

  joints a lot of good.’

  The men looked at each other and smiled.

  After sipping his coffee, Jim asked, ‘How did you find out about this? You said it was confidential.’

  Andy shifted uncomfortably. ‘Charlotte, the researcher, is a friend of Jeanne’s and we met and…became

  friends. Somewhere along the line I mentioned our family and the story about Edmund so when she heard

  Maud’s story, she passed it on to me, in confidence. At least until after Maud’s death.’

  His mother gave him a sharp look.

  ‘Friends you said. But I sense you are more than that, yes?’

  ‘Well, yes we are. We’ve been seeing each other quite a bit, but she’s English and has to go back tomorrow for

  a while. Her mother’s…not well and she also has a business in London.’

  This time it was the parents who looked at each other.

  ‘Is it serious with this Charlotte? You have not spoken of anyone for years!’ Yvette said, her eyes shining.

  ‘I think so, but there’s a lot to sort out first. But when she comes back I’ll introduce you. Promise.’

  His mother nodded, looking pleased. The look of a mother keen to see her only child settled with the right

  partner.

  Andy finished his coffee and glanced at his watch. He had a meeting scheduled in thirty minutes.

  ‘I have to go, but are you clear about what I’ve told you? Remember we can’t say anything to anybody until

  Maud dies and her statement is given to the police.’

  They both nodded their agreement.

  ‘Where’s this statement now, son?’

  ‘The rector of St Martins has it. He witnessed her signature. So it’s quite safe. And if you’re at all unsure about

  being Edmund’s son, Dad, we could insist on a DNA test. That would scupper Harold’s lies.’

  ‘There shouldn’t be any need for a test, in th
e eyes of the law I’m Edmund’s son. It says so on my birth

  certificate.’ Jim flashed a smile at him.

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  ‘Good.’ Andy stood up. ‘How about we go out fishing on Sunday, Dad? See who can catch the most again, eh?’

  Jim laughingly agreed and his parents followed him to the front door, exchanging hugs before he left. Andy

  sank behind the wheel feeling both drained and exhilarated. He had hated fibbing to his parents but told himself

  he’d set the record straight one day. But he was also fired up by the thought his father now saw himself as the

  rightful heir. With a shock he realised one day he would inherit too. Shaking his head at the thought, he switched

  on the engine and drove as fast as he dared to Town, singing a slightly off-key version of Queen’s ‘We are the

  Champions’. It felt good.

  ~ ~

  Charlotte was relieved when Andy phoned to say he’d been to see his parents and told them everything. Or

  rather, a censored version. Telling her he’d explain more later, he also said his father was now prepared to claim

  the family estate. She couldn’t resist performing a little dance around the room before checking the contents of

  the fridge. Nothing much shouted ‘celebration meal’ so she phoned La Bella Luce and booked a table for that

  evening. Only a matter of yards from Edmund’s modest grave, it seemed a little inappropriate, and she hoped the

  family would now install a more fitting headstone. If the evening’s weren’t so dark she would have suggested

  they took flowers there tonight. Perhaps another time. Making a determined effort to stop her mind drifting,

  Charlotte sat down in front of her laptop and continued with her writing.

  When she heard Andy open the front door she rushed into the hall and flung her arms around his neck. Andy

  dropped his messenger bag and lifted her in his arms. They both laughed as he swung her around before easing

  her gently down, then kissing her. Charlotte managed to say she had booked a table for dinner at eight before

  Andy caught her hand and pulled her, laughing, up the stairs. Well, she thought, tumbling onto the bed, this is