“You’re Leonard Day?”
“I am.”
With some uncertainty, Adrian held out his hand in greeting and Leonard was met with a firm handshake, his hand enveloped by Adrian’s much larger, coarser one.
“Look, you probably don’t remember me—”
“Lamperton. Adrian Lamperton,” said Leonard, letting the hand go. “We both went to Cranmer High.”
Where you labelled me Gay Lenny, he left unsaid.
Adrian smiled. Leonard did not reciprocate. Against his better judgment, he noticed Adrian had a nice smile, one that reached his eyes and made his whole face brighten. Up close, Leonard realised that on top of his light caramel, biracial colouring, he had cute orange freckles on his nose and cheeks. Something came back to Leonard then. Adrian’s father had been a big West Indian man, popular in the community, while his mother had been a small, fiery Irishwoman. An unlikely combination, but unmissable in the small town. As for Adrian, he still had a full head of the dark-red hair Leonard remembered, but worn short now and showing signs of grey at the temples. A few years older than Leonard, he must have been touching fifty but looked in incredible shape.
“Or maybe you do,” said Adrian. “Happy days, eh?”
“Yeah. Not so much.”
Adrian’s smile faltered then. Leonard didn’t care. The guy had been an asshole to him at school.
“Look, I was in the other bar and noticed you all arrive. Maisie the barmaid told me the occasion and what had happened. I didn’t know your father well, but heard he was respected around here, especially at the university. So I just wanted to pass on my condolences. And I’m not sure how long you’re in town, but if there’s anything I can do—you know—to help out in any way, just let me know.”
“That’s kind of you.” Leonard’s voice remained flat.
“Sure.”
Adrian’s eyebrows flickered, and he appeared to want to say something else, or maybe expected Leonard to take up the conversation. Eventually the smile faded into silent awkwardness. Beating a retreat, he turned and moved away back to the other bar. Despite having tainted memories of the man, Leonard felt a tingle in his solar plexus watching the thick jeans-clad thighs, slim waist and solid shoulders of the man, not to mention the tight muscled backside moving off. If only they belonged to somebody else. With his gaze lingering, he barely noticed the slight figure approach him, but definitely caught the pungent odour of mothballs.
“Leonard?”
The woman, his Aunt Millicent, stood with a tall tumbler of what appeared to be sparkling water. His cousin, Matthew, stood slightly behind her in his charcoal suit and tie and dark glasses, like a personal minder. Never having met the family, he had no idea what his uncle looked like but guessed Matthew’s father had similar looks. He had a bald pate surrounded by jet-black hair—a little too black to be natural—and a full face of chubby jowls and double chin.
“I’m sorry it’s taken the death of my brother for us to finally meet. Your father and I didn’t see eye to eye on many things. But in the end, he was still family, and as the Good Book teaches us, we need to love each other unconditionally despite our differences. Shame really, because you are about the same age as Matthew and Mary. Had we not been estranged, I’m sure you’d have been close.”
Leonard wasn’t so sure. Nothing about Matthew came across as congenial.
“Is Mary here?” he asked.
“Poor thing. Her husband has mobility issues. Otherwise, she would have been.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. That must be difficult. Send her my best when you return.”
“I will. So do you have faith, Leonard?”
Leonard had heard the question asked in different ways in the past, but knew innately what his aunt was asking. And the last thing he wanted was a sermon on the depths of his aunt’s faith.
“If you’re asking whether I follow any organised religion, then the answer is no. I’m on the fence. Agnostic.”
“I see. And are you married?”
Leonard used to hate being asked the intrusive question, something that happened regularly in his line of work. But now he simply shrugged off the irritation and answered truthfully.
“I’m not.”
“Ah, well. Marriage is not for everyone. Since his divorce, Matthew hasn’t found anyone special, either. Have you, dear? Not for want of trying.”
“Mother!” came Matthew’s voice, a high, nasal sound. “Do you have to?”
Leonard tried hard not to smile.
“Don’t worry, Matthew,” he said, smirking over his aunt’s shoulder. “It’s a mother’s duty to embarrass her offspring in public.”
Leonard couldn’t interpret the reaction behind the sunglasses, but Matthew’s mouth remained unsmiling. Instead, he looked away while taking a sip from a pint glass of bubbly brown cola filled with ice cubes and lemon slices.
“Your father could be a difficult man, Leonard,” said Aunt Millicent, her lips pursed.
Leonard’s mood spiked at the comment, bearing in mind the occasion. Two hours ago, he’d had no idea who this woman was. Did she now feel familiar enough to justify judging his father in front of him?
“As I said at the chapel, my father had integrity. He was also principled and stood firmly by those principles, something he passed on to me. I have nothing but unconditional love and respect for him.”
“Yes, yes. I’m sorry. I’m not trying to denigrate him in any way, especially for his transparently vital work in the field of science. I’m only talking about his closeness to the rest of the family. You probably don’t know this, but he rarely saw any of us after he moved up here. Tragic really, because we were very close as children. I blame the university for brainwashing him with their godless ideology.”
Leonard doubted anybody could have forced his father to believe anything without empirical proof, but felt best to leave well alone. He hoped his lack of a response might entice Aunt Millie to move away and looked around to see if Eric was on his way back. But Aunt Millicent had not finished.
“Will you be living back here with your mother?”
“Only until my father’s estate is tied up. Then I’m back home.”
“And where is that? Home?”
“South London. Balham.”
“I see. Your mother said you’ve called the solicitor to run through your father’s will on Monday, so Matthew and I will remain in town until that’s finalised.”
Leonard felt sure his father had no significant assets, apart from the house and his life policies. Everything would be signed over to his mother.
“You don’t need to stay. I’m sure it’ll all be pretty straightforward. If you prefer, you can leave my mother or me your contact details and we’ll either email a summary or call you.”
“Thank you. But I’d rather be here to find out in person.”
* * * *
By late afternoon, only his mother and Aunt Marcie remained of the funeral guests. Even cousin Eric had decided to leave. Leonard went to join them. Both red-cheeked, they were giggling together like schoolgirls as he sat down at the end of the small booth.
“She’s changed,” said Leonard’s mother when Leonard told her about his conversation with Aunt Millicent. “Not so prickly, and definitely not constantly thrusting her religious fanaticism down everyone’s throats.”
“But she doesn’t drink,” add Marcie, slurring a little. “So I wouldn’t trust her no further ‘n I could throw her.”
“She told me her and Matthew are staying to attend the reading of Dad’s will.”
“Did she?” His mother frowned at that and stared at her drink. “Not sure why. He never mentioned leaving her anything. But I suppose she has a right to be there, being family. And the poor woman has had her fair share of misfortune.”
“What do you mean?”
“Her husband, Michael, walked out on her and the kids some years back. So she’s been on her own since then. Although it looks as though Matthew’s living back home a
gain.”
Leonard sympathised but didn’t consider a husband walking out tragic. Marcie voiced his thoughts before he had a chance to speak.
“Not sure I’d call that tragic. The poor sod probably had enough of her, if even half of what you told me is true.”
“I remember the day Colin got a call from your grandfather to let him know. Said he thought trouble had been brewing between the pair for a long time. Ever since what happened to Luke.”
“Who’s Luke?” asked Marcie.
“Her oldest. Good-looking boy. Bright, too, by all accounts. Tragic.”
“Why? What happened to him?” asked Leonard.
“I thought I’d told you. Luke took his own life. Still, let’s not dwell on…”
Coldness filled Leonard.
His mother continued talking but he heard nothing more. For years he had raged and agonised about his helplessness when Kris succumbed to an incurable illness, and had eventually reconciled himself to his lover’s death with the knowledge that he could have done nothing to change the outcome.
But the thought that someone could feel despair enough to consider taking their own life, to know a family member he had never been allowed to meet had done exactly that, filled him with a profound sense of sorrow mixed with injustice.
And a whole headful of useless ‘what-ifs’.
Chapter Four
Breakdown
Stuttering across the windscreen, the worn wipers on Adrian’s Toyota truck struggled to clear the sudden heavy downpour, failing to give him a good enough view of the road ahead. Mindful of the possibility of other cars heading his way down the small lane, he reduced speed, snapped his lights on full beam and craned forwards, squinting through the glass. Worst of all, the interior surface kept fogging up despite the heater being on full, blasting air onto the inside surface. When he turned into Burntwood Lane, with the tall hedgerow on one side and a wall of elm trees on the other providing a canopy of darkness across the road, he slowed to a crawl.
Just as well, because up ahead in a section partly open to the scant daylight, pulled into a lay-by, he spied the outline of a car. Silhouetted in the lights of Adrian’s van, a distinctly male figure leant over the engine using a phone to shine light into the space beneath the bonnet. Worst of all, the poor guy had no hat or umbrella, only a jacket and jeans, and appeared drenched through. For a fleeting moment Adrian considered driving on, wondered if maybe the person had everything under control and might even be offended by his offer of assistance, however well-intentioned. Until a moment of self-reproach bearing his mother’s voice hit him and he pulled the truck over.
He landed in a deep puddle as he jumped out and cursed momentarily before grabbing a couple of umbrellas from behind the seat. Using his back to close the cab door, he opened one of the umbrellas and headed towards the driver. Sensing his approach, the person straightened and stepped away from the car. Even in shadow he recognised the stance and build of the man. Lenny Day. Adrian’s pace faltered a moment, until he took a breath and continued forward.
“Spot of trouble?”
Lenny’s classy-looking cobalt-blue jacket had darkened with rain across the shoulders. Even the collar of his denim shirt had not escaped the shower, and the stylish blue handkerchief in his top pocket had all but wilted.
“Yes. But it’s fine. I’ve got everything under control.”
Adrian registered the sombre expression and heard the flat tone again, the one Lenny had used at the funeral gathering. This time Adrian was not going to be fobbed off. The man clearly had no idea what he was doing, standing and getting soaked in rain while trying to fix an engine with the light of a smartphone in one hand and nothing in the other.
“What seems to be the problem?”
“It’s the engine.”
Adrian resisted a smirk, resisted providing a quip about Lenny stating the obvious.
“Did it just cut out?”
This time Lenny’s gaze bore into Adrian. Until something in his expression changed. As though a switch had been flicked, he seemed to visibly deflate, huffing out a breath and grimacing in defeat.
“Actually, I haven’t got a clue what I’m doing, Adrian. This is my father’s piece of shit Astra. My mother’s been nagging me to take it for a spin so I thought today would be good while the weather stayed dry. Until the engine cut out almost at the same moment as the heavens opened. Some days you just can’t win. To top it all, I can’t even get a signal on my phone to call someone. Not that I’d know who to call around here. Do you think this is my father’s idea of a parting joke?”
Adrian smirked and handed an umbrella to Lenny.
“Looks as though you’re already soaked through, but try this anyway. I’m not a qualified mechanic, but I’ve had a fair bit of experience with engines. Want me to take a look?”
“Would you mind? I’ll hold the umbrella over you.”
After checking connections and getting Lenny to try the ignition a couple of times—with absolutely nothing happening—Adrian identified the culprit.
“Just before you pulled over, did you notice anything unusual?”
“Yes. The reporter on the local radio station promised sunshine all day.”
Adrian looked away and smiled.
“About the car.”
“Ah, so, the lights flickered a couple of times and there was an odd rumbling sound and a burning smell coming from the engine. And now the lights aren’t working at all.”
“Yeah, just as I thought. Faulty alternator, I’m afraid. And your battery doesn’t look in particularly good shape either.”
“Priceless. So what can I do?”
“Not a lot, I’m afraid. I can drop you at Ted’s. He’s the local mechanic. But he’ll likely need to tow the car back to his garage. Suggest you grab anything you need, lock up, and I’ll drop you there.”
“Shit.”
“Where were you headed? I can always drive you, if you want?”
“Home. As I say, I gave the car a run into Norwich. I was on my way back home for lunch when this happened.”
Lenny seemed to hesitate then.
“Look Adrian. I don’t want to put you out. I’m sure you’ve got more important things to do on a Saturday. Maybe you could call this guy, Ted, and I’ll wait—”
“Not a chance. We can’t get a signal for another half mile either way. Best I drop you there.”
When Lenny peered around into the rain, considering the offer, Adrian almost relented. Nervousness had already settled in his stomach at the thought of having Lenny Day sat next to him in his truck. Until Lenny turned and produced a genuinely grateful smile.
“That’s really kind of you.”
While Lenny climbed into the passenger seat, Adrian folded up the umbrellas and shoved them beneath his seat before clambering in.
“I’d offer you a towel to dry yourself but it’s covered in plaster dust.”
“No problem.” Lenny fixed his seatbelt in place, then dragged a clean handkerchief from his pocket and did his best to dry his hair and face. “Nice and warm in here.”
Adrian started up the engine and after a quick check, put the truck into gear. Before long, they came out the other side of the tree covering and headed towards Drayton.
“Sorry,” said Lenny. “Didn’t really get a chance to chat the other day.”
The way Adrian remembered things, Lenny hadn’t wanted to talk. Not to Adrian anyway. He liked this chatty version of Lenny much better.
“You had a lot on your plate. Funeral, and all.”
“So I didn’t get to ask what you do?” Lenny turned to have a brief glance through the small back window of the truck. “For a living?”
“Building trade. Haven’t gotten round to painting the name on the side of the truck. But I do plumbing, tiling, plastering, roofing. Pretty much the works. The only thing I’m not so hot on is electrical wiring. Can do the basics and make good on repairs, but I’m not qualified to rewire a house. Happily, I’ve been i
n the trade long enough to know some excellent people who can.”
“Don’t suppose you ever get involved in restoration work? Repairing heritage or listed buildings, that kind of thing?”
“Never been asked. But I’d imagine it’s more specialised than what I do. Around Norwich it’s mainly standard new builds, laying down patios, building extensions or renovating older properties, none of which you could call heritage.”
Lenny nodded his understanding, and Adrian wondered what else had been behind the question.
“At school, people used to say you were going to be the next big thing, going on to play rugby for England one day. The field boundary was packed whenever you guys were playing at home. If my memory serves me well, you had quite the following.”
Adrian kept his eyes on the road. Since school ended, he’d kept in touch with nobody, and whenever he bumped into anyone from those days, he always answered the question in exactly the same way.
“Didn’t happen. Very competitive in the real world of professional sport. Don’t think people truly realise what you’re up against out there. Plus I liked playing for the fun of it, without the pressure, didn’t want to turn it into a profession and lose the enjoyment. What I’m doing now is what I love, building things to last.”
Even though the answer wasn’t a lie, he would never tell the whole dreadful truth. But the answer seemed to stop people digging any further. Because nobody wanted to hear the real reason for him suddenly being yanked out of school and scraping a life on the streets of London.
“Have you always lived here? In Drayton?”
“No. Came back when my dad got sick. He passed away around ten years ago.”
“I’m so very sorry. We have that in common. I know he was popular in the community. Wasn’t he a church minister or something?”
Adrian did not want to talk about his father either. A mountain of a man, he had shone back then as one of the few prominent West Indian men in Drayton, a popular minister of the local Baptist church. People had come to him for everything, for guidance, support, advice and often for forgiveness, something he seemed to be able to dole out freely and generously to his congregation.
Any Day Page 5