Felburgh

by Ivan B

  “If we’re moving here in a few weeks you’d better go and choose a bedroom.”

  “I can choose?”

  “Yes.”

  When they had gone Peter gave her a sideways look.

  “But I thought-.”

  She put her finger on his lips.

  “Let her believe it is her choice, she’ll be happier then.”

  There were sounds of much tramping about, eventually Danielle reappeared.

  “Back bedroom on the right, it has a better view.” She announced.

  Peter’s heart sank.

  “Have you checked out the wardrobes?” Said Jo.

  Danielle looked at her mum as if she was temporarily insane.

  “Checked out the wardrobes? A wardrobe is a wardrobe.”

  Jo made a sort of waving motion with her hand and the girls went back up stairs. They were down in three minutes.

  “Changed my mind, back left hand bedroom.”

  “You like the wardrobe?”

  “Yeah, I can use it as a den.”

  Jo smiled.

  “We were wondering if you’d like it the other way round, you know sleep in the wardrobe and have the bedroom as a sort of private living room.”

  Danielle could obviously not believe her ears.

  “You serious?”

  “Yes.”

  “Wicked.”

  Danielle paused.

  “Could I have a TV in there?”

  Peter was about to open his mouth when Jo’s fingernails dug into his arm.

  “Don’t push it. Peter has said that you can choose the decorations.”

  Danielle looked at Peter, “Really?”

  “Really, mind you there’s a budget, no more than £120 on paint or £160 if you have paint and wall paper. We’ll talk about a carpet later.”

  “Who needs a carpet? I want to varnish the floorboards.”

  Jo wagged a finger.

  You will have to decorate it yourself, call it your summer project. You’ve got three weeks max.”

  Danielle went to make an exit and then stopped. She looked at Peter.

  “Did you ever find a basement?”

  Peter was floundering for words when Jo said.

  “You were right; there was a basement. There is a hatch under Aquinas’ bed, but it doesn’t work now. I found it a fortnight ago when I had a blitz on the dog’s bedding.”

  Louise said, “What a house!”

  Peter pointed upwards.

  “Have you seen the attic?” and he almost screamed as Jo’s fingernails bit in again.

  “The attic’s not for everyday use, so it’s not on the bedroom list, but go take a look.”

  The girls disappeared. Jo said to Peter, “she’s a teenager, she wants the world and she wants it now. She’ll get her TV in due course, but one thing at a time or she will never appreciate what she’s got. I can see you’re going to be far too soft. They sat together for a few moments and the girls reappeared. Danielle grinned. “Can I paint a mural on my wall?”

  Jo looked at Peter and said, “Now you’ve started something.

  Chapter 19

  Loose Ends

  Come Monday morning Peter had a seemingly ever-growing list of things to do. Following Danielle’s choice of bedroom the girls had watched a film and Peter and Jo had talked about the forthcoming change in their lives. The more they talked about their immediate future the more things Peter realized he had to do. Basically he had four weeks in which to reorganize his house and his life before he moved from the single life to a married life. He also resolved to tie up the loose ends surrounding the Revd. Reginald Graye; he was happy to feel that what he had done so far was covered by priestly confidentiality, but he wanted the episode closed before he married Jo and it intruded into their lives together. Basically he had to close the bank account, and give away the bag of £2 coins. Peter was just getting into his stride with his list of telephone calls when his electronic organizer sounded its alarm. Peter looked at the screen; it was 9:30 and the organizer was warning him that he should be at Celine De Bere’s at 10:00. Peter had forgotten all about it.

  Peter left his study and drove round to Celine’s house; he wanted to arrive early so he could have a word with her before the police arrived. On his arrival Celine opened the door; she looked drawn and somewhat haggard. She led Peter into her lounge and they sat down. Before Peter could speak Celine wrung her hands.

  “You don’t have to be here. I have no right to ask you. I’ve said some wicked things about you because I believed what Cameron told me, but that’s no excuse.”

  “You have every right to ask me.” Peter replied. “The rest is water under the bridge.”

  Celine did not look convinced so Peter asked about the children.

  She looked thoroughly miserable.

  “You know when someone dies you can’t stop still expecting them to walk through the door; it’s just like that. I can’t believe that he’s gone. I can’t believe that he’s just walked out of our lives. No warning, no preamble, no nothing.”

  “Are you financially OK?”

  She hung her head in her hands.

  “I have no idea. He dealt with all the finances. I do know that the house is in his name, but it’s nowhere near paid for.”

  She started to cry gently and Peter handed her a tissue from a nearby box. Peter let her cry; in reality he was completely at a loss and he knew from experience that in these circumstances it was better to say nothing rather than spout meaningless platitudes. Eventually she wiped her eyes.

  “Sorry. I keep doing that,” she sniffed.

  “I don’t think you have anything to be sorry about.”

  They sat in silence for a few moments until the doorbell rang. Peter opened the door to find a uniformed policeman.

  “I’m Detective Inspector Hamilton.”

  Peter nodded and let him in.

  “I was expecting a plain clothes policeman.”

  The inspector smiled.

  “I have to go to one of those special functions afterwards where uniform is de rigueur.”

  Once established in the lounge the Inspector said to Celine, in a remarkably gentle manner.

  “I’m Inspector Hamilton and I’m in charge of your husband’s case.”

  Celine immediately sat up.

  “How is he? Do you think he is guilty?”

  “He is as well as can be expected. As to his guilt, that is for the courts to decide, but he has given us a full confession.”

  “And you believe him?” Remarked Peter.

  The Inspector smiled.

  “His confession aligns with all the facts currently at our disposal, besides which I think he rather hopes that by returning the majority of the money promptly he will get a shorter sentence.”

  “So you expect him to go to prison,” Celine said miserably.

  “I am afraid he has misled a lot of people and has deliberately undertaken money transactions that he had no right to do. So, yes I would expect a custodial sentence.”

  The Inspector looked at Celine.

  “But Cameron made one thing quite clear to us and that is that you are not involved. We were pretty sure about that anyway, but it was nice to hear it from him. So you are in the clear.”

  “Is it true he has a mistress in Denmark and that she is only eighteen?” Celine said hurriedly.

  Inspector Hamilton nodded, “I’m afraid so.”

  “How long? How long has he had a mistress?”

  The Inspector looked somewhat uncomfortable and didn’t answer. Celine persisted.

  “You must know your colleague, the pushy sergeant, said that he’d been checking up on him for months and months.”

  “I’m sorry, I guess it will all come out in the papers, but we think he has known her for five or six years.”

  Celine digested this and looked even more miserable.

  “So she was a child when…,” but she could go no further and broke down in tears.

  “
Why now?” Asked.

  “Because she’s eighteen and they planned to get married,” he turned and faced Celine.

  “I know it’s probably no comfort to you, but she is unaware of your existence. She thought that his name was Arnold and that he was unmarried and lived in London. It looks like he led you both up the garden path.”

  He stood up and made for the door, he then stopped and looked at Peter as if for the first time.

  “Are you the vicar of St Nathaniel’s?”

  Peter nodded. The Inspector whispered, “May I have a word outside sir?”

  Peter followed him out wondering what was coming. Once outside the inspector motioned Peter to sit in the car. Before he could speak Peter tried to guess.

  “There’s more bad news to come for Mrs. De Bere isn’t there Inspector?”

  “Call me Roger. Off the record, yes there is. For starters he’s already said he doesn’t want her or the children to visit. There is a good possibility that he was already married when he married her. And the Danish police have asked to question him about his relationship with the lady in Denmark.”

  He paused, “I hope your church is as good as people say it is, she is going to need an awful lot of support.”

  Peter looked back at the house, everything looked so normal, but this woman’s world had just fallen apart.

  “You wanted to talk to me about something else.”

  “Unfortunately, yes. We tapped their phone for the last two months. During her phone conversations, Mrs. De Bere made certain allegations about your conduct with children. The allegations were such that I was duty bound to pass them on to our pedophilia squad.”

  Peter groaned inwardly, would this never go away?

  “I’m sure you’ll appreciate that they had no other course of action but to check you out. However, I’m glad to say they gave you a thoroughly clean bill of health. I just thought I’d tell you because it’s in the file on this case.”

  “Thank you,” said Peter, reaching for the door-handle.

  “Just a moment sir, there is something else.”

  Peter wondered what could possibly be coming next. Roger continued, “The case my two colleagues are on has your predecessors’ signature all over it.”

  “I don’t follow.”

  “When I was a young constable I worked on the case where we actually caught him and for which he served time. Like most forgers, he’s proud of his work so he puts a hidden signature on it. In his case the digits on the note serial numbers always add up to fifty-eight. The forged €500 notes we have come across have six different serial numbers, but they all come to fifty-eight when you add up the digits.”

  Peter had a sinking feeling.

  “Couldn’t it be someone else copying his style?”

  “I’m afraid not; there are one or two other identifies that I won’t go into, but we are certain that it is Reggie’s work. It has his sense of humor.”

  Now Peter was mystified.

  “Sense of humor?”

  “Besides the €500 notes there has also been a small trickle of forged £2 coins. They are easy enough to pick out as they are dated 1977 and commemorate the Queen’s silver jubilee.”

  Peter thought for a moment.

  “But the £2 coins were only introduced in the mid-1990s.”

  “Not quite true sir. Henry VII introduced the first one in 1485, but you are right, the current mass-circulated two-metal coin was introduced in 1997.”

  Roger paused.

  “I don’t suppose you know of his whereabouts do you sir?”

  Peter felt trapped by this simple question.

  “I’ve never talked to him. He had left the church before I arrived”

  The Inspector nodded and Peter asked a tentative question.

  “Have you any idea where he is?”

  Roger shook his head.

  “No concrete leads. The people we think bankrolled this particular operation seem to think that he has absconded to the Far East.”

  “And you?”

  “I have this funny feeling that he has given all his worldly goods away and disappeared into a monastery. That would certainly align with his psychological profile.”

  Roger looked at his watch and Peter took the hint and got out of the car, as he was leaving the Inspector leant out of his window.

  “Thanks for your help sir and take good care of Mrs. De Bere won’t you?”

  As he drove away, Peter had two things on his mind; firstly Celine De Bere and secondly the bag of £2 coins in his filing cabinet, and he had no idea what to do about either of them. As he was walking back up the garden path to the house his first problem was partially solved in the form of Sam’s wife Wendy. She drove up and parked outside the house and then came and talked to Peter.

  “How is Celine?”

  “Devastated.”

  “Do you think she’d appreciate a visit?”

  Peter looked at Wendy.

  “I think she can do with all the support she can get. Her world has just fallen apart and I doubt that much of it will ever be put together in the same way again.”

  Wendy looked a bit embarrassed.

  “Lucy, Marjorie and I have been talking on the phone; would you mind if we tried to give her some support. It’s not that we think you’re not capable but…”

  “But I’m a man,” said Peter, “and currently men have a low currency with Celine.”

  “Something like that. But to be honest we have no idea what to do?”

  “Just be with her. Let her talk, cry, scream, whatever. Try to get her to look at the positives, she still has her children and I know she loves them.”

  Peter paused, not wanting to break confidences, but eventually said, “And she may need some more positive support in days to come.”

  But Wendy was no fool.

  “You mean she may have to move out of the house.”

  Peter shrugged his shoulders and Wendy muttered, “Bastard.”

  “Tell the others, but you can call me anytime, day or night. Things are usually blackest in the early hours of the morning.”

  Wendy nodded.

  “I know – I remember. Pray for us Peter; pray that we do the right thing. And pray for her too; I certainly shall.”

  Peter drove home and immediately went into his study and checked his bag of £2 coins. As he feared they were all dated 1977. One more item to add to his list of things to do, dispose of a bag full of counterfeit coins. Peter then drove to Henry and Caroline’s; as far as his list went this was the one item he thought could be the most delicate. Peter rang the doorbell and to his surprise the ring of the bell was accompanied by two short barks. Caroline appeared at the door a few moments later, by her side was a golden retriever. Caroline motioned for Peter to come in. The twins were in the lounge; sound asleep in their double baby-buggy. She signed, “I went to the shops; it’s a shame to wake them.”

  Peter asked, “How are they?”

  “Fine, the community nurse says they are doing fine.”

  “And how are you?”

  She smiled her dazzling smile, “I’m fine too, I little tired sometimes, but otherwise fine.”

  “And Henry?”

  She grinned.

  “Proud as a peacock, but shattered. He wakes up if they so much as gurgle in their sleep. Of course I never hear a thing, so he gets up in the night and only wakes me if he has to. I think he’s finding it very tiring, but he’d have it no other way.”

  Peter looked at the dog, “nice dog. I didn’t know you had a dog.”

  She leant over and ruffled the dog’s fur.

  “He’s Rufus, a hearing dog for the deaf. I’ve always resisted having one as I could cope alone. But if Henry is out the dog tells me if Rebekah or Loranah are awake, or in trouble. Henry also tells me that he barks if someone rings the bell to let them know they have been heard; if I happen to be resting and don’t notice the lights flash he comes and nuzzles me.”

  They talked generalities a li
ttle more and it occurred to Peter that Caroline and Henry had not talked about baptizing the children, but he decided it was early days yet. Eventually Caroline frowned.

  “Is this just a social call, or have you an ulterior motive?”

  Peter was quite for a moment, and then signed.

  “I have a problem, and I don’t want to cause you any offence, but the Mothers and Toddlers have moved out of my house into the church…”

  Peter paused to consider how to continue when Caroline laughed.

  “And now my mural on your lounge wall is an embarrassment because Jo wants to paint the lounge like a normal lounge.”

  Peter nodded and replied.

  “But you and your friends went to a great deal of trouble over my lounge and I don’t want you to think that I am ungrateful. I also don’t want your friends to think that I no longer want it because of their living arrangements.”

  Caroline smiled.

  “You mean because of their sexuality?”

  Peter nodded, well aware that he was in danger of grievously insulting Caroline and her friends.

  Caroline gave her funny cackling laugh again.

  “If I was Jo, I’d want to paint it over. I’d want to paint the whole house in my colours and lay my carpets and fill it with my furniture.”

  Peter nodded.

  “The painters move in tomorrow. I was fortunate I found a decorating business that had just lost a major contract and had some men available.”

  Caroline leant over and ruffled the dog again, and then she signed.

  “I don’t mind, I honestly don’t mind, and I am sure the others will understand.”

  Peter relaxed, and Caroline signed.

  “Has George had a word with you?”

  “No, what about?”

  “He asked me to consider painting some Bible scenes on the top half of the glass screens between the church and the north aisle. He also said that for health and safety reasons the lower portions of the screens ought to be painted as well to prevent children running into them, he suggested a selection of children’s characters. Will you do it?”

  Caroline paused, then signed.

  “I don’t know. I can’t really do it all by myself and my friends won’t set foot in the church.”