The Temptation

by Vera Morris

  Stuart sat down, looking grave. ‘I don’t know if what Ann told me has any bearing on David’s disappearance, but it explains his attitude towards his mother. If you remember the Pembertons hired a number of tutors to teach David until he was thirteen. Ann Fenner is convinced Carol Pemberton had relationships with at least two of these men.’

  Laurel glanced at Frank. His eyes narrowed and his nostrils were pinched. She’d seen the softening look on his face when he’d put the drawing of Carol Pemberton on the table earlier in the week; she’d wondered then if he was attracted to her, but knowing Frank’s attitude to women and his professional scruples, it hadn’t worried her. But now? He hadn’t said anything personal about Mrs Pemberton – usually if a woman was attractive or sexy he might make some comment, but not this time. She was beautiful; the drawing showed a fragility which most men would respond to; the white knight rescuing the fair damsel syndrome. Not a response she’d encountered very often. Frank riding to her rescue over the sands of Minsmere beach to help her dig out Nicholson was the nearest she got to that. Was she jealous? She had to admit there was a faint pain under her ribs, but she hoped it would soon go away.

  ‘Can you give us more details, Stuart?’ Frank asked.

  Stuart nodded and leant forwards, placing his small hands on the table. ‘She didn’t know the first tutor very well as he left about two months after she arrived. At first she thought it was good for Mrs Pemberton to have someone nearer her own age to talk to when Mr Pemberton was at work, but then she noticed the two of them often left David in his room working on his drawings and they, Mrs Pemberton and the tutor, would be in the sitting room; she’d hear them laughing and talking, but then there would be long periods when she didn’t hear anything, although she knew they were there. She felt uncomfortable about that.’

  Frank shrugged. ‘That’s a bit thin. I don’t think we can read much into that.’

  ‘There’s more,’ Stuart said. ‘That tutor was dismissed, not for messing round with the boss’s wife, but David took against him; shut himself in his room and wouldn’t come out for lessons, although everything seemed to go well to begin with.’

  ‘Did the boy know about his mother and the tutor?’ Mabel asked. ‘Poor child. How do you cope with that at his age? And with his difficulties?’

  Stuart turned towards her, his face softening. He smiled at her. ‘He probably did what he always did, he got a sheet of paper and a pencil and drew it out of his system.’

  Laurel saw Frank flinch. Something had struck home.

  Mabel smiled at Stuart. ‘Sometimes you’re a very clever man, Stuart Elderkin.’

  ‘I was when I got you to agree to marry me.’

  Laurel held her breath, expecting Mabel to come back with a barbed reply, but all she did was widen her smile. Whew! Things are looking up.

  ‘What else did Ann Fenner tell you?’ Dorothy asked.

  ‘The next tutor, name escapes me, but it’s in my notebook, was the first one who lived in. Ann said he was young, about twenty-three. He’d graduated from Oxford, and was hoping to make a living writing, but until, if and when he was published, he decided to try private tutoring. He’d had a bash at teaching in a school, but couldn’t manage the kids.’

  Frank was running a hand over his cheek as though deciding whether or not he needed a shave. ‘Did Ann like him?’ he asked

  ‘She did, said he was gentle with David, seemed to relate to him, and David responded. On one of his secret visits to Ann he said he liked the new tutor. Then after about five months it changed, and Ann Fenner thinks she knows why.’

  Dorothy shook her head. ‘Same story?’

  Stuart nodded. ‘You’re right, but this time Ann saw them at it, so to speak.’

  ‘Do you trust her?’ Frank snapped. ‘Could she have fallen for the tutor herself and not got anywhere?’

  Stuart looked shocked. ‘Ann Fenner! I don’t think so. A woman who wears a sensible winter coat and carries an umbrella isn’t a femme fatale. She’s a widow and she obviously loved her husband, talked about him with real affection. I think she’s a lonely woman, but she’s no sex pot.’

  ‘She sounds nice, Stuart,’ Mabel said. ‘I must see if we can help her. What do you think, Dorothy?’

  Dorothy pulled back her shoulders. ‘Stuart’s a good judge of character, we’ll think of something.’

  ‘That’s my girls,’ Stuart said, grinning broadly.

  ‘Will you please finish your report, Stuart,’ Frank barked.

  Stuart stared at him. ‘Hold your hat on. What’s got into you? No need to snap my head off.’

  Frank briefly closed his eyes, his hands gripping his knees. ‘I’m sorry, Stuart, I must be tired.’

  You’re never tired, Frank Xavier Diamond, Laurel thought. Something or someone has got to you, and you’re not used to that. Just when it looked as though Mabel and Stuart had made it up, Frank was upset about something and that something is the news that Carol Pemberton is a nymphomaniac. Normally he’d be delighted by a bit of information like that; it didn’t solve the case but it shed light on one of its principal players.

  Stuart continued. ‘One night, Ann Fenner said she couldn’t sleep; she’d eaten a cheese sandwich late and she got terrible heartburn. It was after one in the morning, she went down to the kitchen to get some Andrew’s Liver Salts—’

  ‘Should have tried Milk of Magnesia,’ quipped Dorothy. Mabel giggled.

  Frank glared at them but Stuart smiled indulgently. ‘My, you ladies! No need to be embarrassed, we’re all grown up here.’

  Laurel wasn’t so sure.

  ‘As I was saying, she crept down the stairs, afraid of waking anyone, when she saw a faint light under the library door; she thought the standard lamp had been left on. She opened the door and there they were on the rug in front of a dead fire.’

  ‘Did they see her?’ Dorothy asked.

  ‘She wasn’t sure. Certainly, Mrs Pemberton didn’t because according to Ann she was stark naked, on her back, her black hair loose, spread over the rug, and he was on top. They were too … er, engrossed to notice, or even hear the door opening, but she did wonder if he looked up briefly, and saw her.’

  Frank was silent.

  ‘What did Ann do?’ Dorothy asked.

  ‘She made a rapid retreat up the stairs and put up with the heartburn all night, plus a shocked nervous system. She says she didn’t know what to do. She thought about having a word with the tutor, but she was worried he’d tell Mrs Pemberton; she couldn’t bring herself to say anything to the husband, it would be her word against his wife’s. She even thought of trying to find another job, but she didn’t want to leave David.’

  ‘Is there any connection we can see between Mrs Pemberton’s unfaithfulness and David’s disappearance? Could David also have made a similar discovery and said he would tell his father?’ Laurel asked.

  ‘It’s another thought,’ Stuart said.

  ‘You mean she might have done him harm? Got rid of him? Surely no mother would do that,’ Mabel said. ‘What do you think, Frank?’

  Frank coughed, and reached for his glass of water, but before he could reply the phone on Laurel’s desk rang. Dorothy was nearest. She listened. ‘It’s Nancy for you, Laurel.’

  ‘Good, I’ve been trying to get her. Hope she wasn’t too shocked by Sam’s appearance. Hello, Nancy, how did it go?’

  ‘Go? What do you mean? Did you see Sam?’ Nancy’s voice was worried.

  ‘But you’ve seen him, haven’t you? Clara came for you.’

  ‘What are you talking about? I’ve been out all day. Ivy Merryweather rang me up at lunch time, she’s had a flood, her boiler burst, I’ve been helping her mop up. She doesn’t have a phone so I couldn’t ring before. I’ve just got back. I rang straight away to see if you’d seen Sam.’

  Laurel’s heart thudded against her ribs. ‘I’ll come over at once, Nancy. I need to explain something. Then I think we ought to go to Sam’s.’

  ‘At this
time of night? I don’t think Clara will be pleased to see us.’

  ‘Trust me, Nancy. Get ready to go out. I’ll be with you in half an hour.’ She put the phone down.

  Frank had moved to her side.

  She gulped. ‘Nancy hasn’t seen Clara, so either Clara went to Nancy’s and she was out, or she went somewhere else. She certainly came back with someone. I heard two car doors close. I thought it was Nancy with her. I don’t think Sam should be left without medical help another night. I’m taking Nancy to him. I’ll force Clara to let us in.’

  Frank took her arm. ‘You’ve got a bad feeling about this, haven’t you?’

  She nodded.

  ‘I’ll drive, it’ll be faster.’

  Stuart Elderkin rolled his eyes. ‘You’re not in your Mustang, remember.’

  ‘Anything we can do? Do you want me to come? Nancy might be glad to see me,’ Dorothy asked.

  ‘Be prepared to come over to Aldeburgh if necessary,’ Frank said, as he made his way to the door.

  In the hall Laurel grabbed her handbag and a waterproof, as it was raining again. She was relieved Frank was coming with her, but unfortunately it reminded her of the time they had come back from Aldeburgh and found Mabel almost dead on the beach below the steps of Blackfriars School.

  David, Age 12 years

  I hate her. She is bad. It is wrong to do that. You can only do it with your husband. I want to tell Daddy. I don’t know how to tell him. Why did she do it? I’ve read about it in the newspaper the gardener leaves in the shed. I can read a lot of words now. My tutor, the bad man, he taught me lots of words. He’s a teacher. Teachers should be good. He was bad to do it with my Mummy. Why did he want to do it?

  The newspaper says lots of people do it when they shouldn’t. Doctors, vicars, people my Daddy votes for. Sometimes they do bad things to boys. I’m not sure what they do. I know what the tutor did. I saw them. He gave me lessons, then Mummy told me to go up to my room. He and Mummy talked and I did my drawings.

  I was hungry. It was tea time. I went to the kitchen to find something to eat. I passed the door of the library. I wanted to get a book. The door wasn’t closed. I peeped through the crack. They were kissing. A long kiss. He was touching her all over. I felt sick. I went back to my room. What was happening? Would Daddy have to leave? Would the tutor be my new Daddy? No. It was wrong.

  That night I couldn’t sleep. His room is near mine. I heard his bedroom door open, and he went down the stairs. I waited. I counted to twenty. I can count to a hundred but I didn’t. I crept down the stairs. I was scared. The library door has a keyhole. I looked through it. My mummy was on the floor. She didn’t have any clothes on. He was on top of her. He was moving up and down. She put her legs round him. She doesn’t love Daddy any more. What will happen?

  I went back upstairs. I took a piece of paper and pinned it to the easel. I got out three pencils, one fine, one medium and one thick. I drew it out of my head on to the paper. I will have to hide it. If she found it what would she do to me? I want to tell. If I tell Daddy will he hate me? Does he know?

  The next day I still feel bad. I go into the kitchen. Miss Fenner is sitting at the table. I like her. I can tell she likes me. She doesn’t say much to me. I remember when I first spoke to her. She called me Master David. She made her do that. I didn’t like it. Miss Fenner makes nice things to eat. She is always the same. She doesn’t shout and she doesn’t cry. I talk to her. She was shocked when I first spoke to her. I laughed and she smiled. She makes nice puddings. I like her.

  I will be thirteen on the twenty-third of July. I will go away to school in September. Daddy is taking me to visit the school soon. I am afraid. I’ve never been to a school. You have to listen to teachers and you have to answer questions. I do that with the tutors. I am glad I am going as there will be no more tutors. Mummy will have to stop being bad.

  Daddy comes in from work. He is sad. I wish I could tell him. He knows I don’t like anyone touching me. Sometimes he puts out his hand. Then he pulls it away. I think I love my Daddy. I go upstairs and draw a picture of him and one of Miss Fenner. I put them with the others. It is my secret. I like secrets.

  Chapter 11

  Frank pulled away from in front of Nancy’s house, Laurel sitting in the back of the car with Nancy, trying to reassure her it was going to be all right. She’d told Nancy what had happened at Sam’s that afternoon, but when she’d told her how ill Sam looked, Nancy went white and needed a glass of whisky before they set off.

  Frank was glad to be active; he didn’t want to think about what Stuart Elderkin had told them about Carol. How was he going to tell them about the drawing he’d kept back? How could he explain why he’d kept it back? It was hidden in a drawer in the bedroom of his cottage. Was it because in his heart he knew it was a drawing of Carol and some man, who wasn’t her husband, having sex? He’d tried to put it down to the adolescent sexual fantasies of David. Possibly an Oedipus Complex with the boy imagining himself as the man making love to his mother. How could he show it to them now, when Ann Fenner’s description of Carol Pemberton and the tutor making love on the library rug perfectly matched the drawing? But how had David known about them? He must have found them together, just as Ann Fenner had. In the drawing you couldn’t identify the woman, all you could see was the hair spread out, and her arms raised, her hands gripping the shoulders of the man. He was above her, falling dark hair obscuring his face; his body was youthful, the chest almost hairless, nipples erect and skin pale and smooth. David had captured a moment of intense passion. What effect had that had on him? To see his mother being fucked by his teacher? Part of him was outraged for the boy, but another part of him was seething with jealousy and lust. He didn’t like the effect the drawing had on him: one of uncontrollable desire. He liked to have control of any situation and before wanting Carol, he’d never lost control of himself. He inwardly groaned.

  He automatically followed Laurel’s instructions to the Harrops’ house, silent, half-listening to Nancy whispering to Laurel. She seemed a nice lady, grateful he’d come, saying it was good to have a man to take charge. He wasn’t sure what Laurel made of that. If there was any physical danger she was as good as him at dealing with it, probably better.

  ‘Don’t park in the drive,’ Nancy whispered.

  He pulled up in the road out of view from the windows of the house, although as far as he could see there were no lights showing. The rain had turned from drizzle to a slanting, cold downpour, lashed by an easterly wind, bringing with it the sharp smell of the sea.

  The gravel crunched under their feet as they walked towards the house.

  ‘That’s Clara’s car,’ Laurel whispered.

  The house was in darkness. He switched on the torch he’d brought with him. ‘We’ll ring the bell; they must be in the back of the house. OK, Nancy?’

  In the light of the torch Nancy’s pink hair was flattened against her scalp; she looked frail and frightened. ‘Oh, Laurel. I’m so worried. What if Clara won’t let us in? Supposing she won’t let me see Sam?’

  Laurel wrapped an arm round her. ‘I’m sure we can sort it out. Frank’s very good with people, he’ll be able to explain to Clara. She must see sense.’

  Blind faith, he thought. His belief in himself was decreasing by the minute. ‘It will be all right, Nancy.’ He pressed the bell. Several times. Then after a few minutes and no response he attacked the large cast-iron knocker. The blows echoed back to them.

  ‘Let’s go round the back. Sam was in the room with French windows this afternoon,’ Laurel said.

  ‘His favourite place,’ Nancy muttered. ‘Where he listens to his beloved music. That’s why they retired here: the music, the concerts, going to Snape Maltings, always ending up at The Oysterage at Orford for supper. I expect he’s playing something now, and that’s why they haven’t heard us. I do hope we won’t give them a fright when they see us.’

  He glanced at Laurel. He was sure they were thinking along the same lin
es.

  They made their way down the side of the house, Laurel holding on to Nancy, making sure she didn’t trip. There was no light in the kitchen and the blind was drawn. The room with the French windows was also in darkness and drawn curtains obscured any chance of seeing inside.

  Nancy trembled, her teeth chattering with the cold and probably nerves. ‘Oh dear, what shall we do? Wherever are they? Do you think Clara’s taken Sam to hospital? But her car’s at the front of the house. Do you think she got an ambulance? Surely she’d have rung me?’

  ‘Frank, I think we need to get in,’ Laurel said.

  Nancy clutched her arm. ‘We can’t, dear, we haven’t got a key.’

  ‘Laurel, I think Nancy ought to wait in the car. Take the torch. I’ll stay here.’

  Nancy turned to him, her eyes wide with fear, her hair plastered to her scalp. She looked ten years older than when they’d set off only twenty minutes ago. ‘What are you going to do? What do you think has happened? Oh, Sam! Please be all right, Sam.’

  Laurel took the torch from Frank and tried to move Nancy away from the French windows. Nancy fluttered her arms against Laurel’s hold. ‘I shouldn’t have told you. This is my fault. Clara’s found out and she’s taken him away.’

  Laurel blinked away the cold rain beating into her face.

  This was a nightmare, he thought.

  Laurel looked as though she wanted to pick Nancy up and carry her to the car. They had to get into the house. Now. As quickly as possible.

  ‘You must do as Frank says, Nancy. At once. Come along, this is no time to make a scene.’

  She hadn’t lost the bossy, I’m a teacher and know best touch. He smiled.

  Nancy straightened up. ‘No need for that tone, young woman. Dorothy said you were a nice person, now I’m not so sure!’ She allowed herself to be pushed towards the car.