by D K Bohlman
She felt it was a barrier. It had to be negotiated, it wasn't some small thing. Katalin had left because of what she had uncovered. Not with the intent of staying away for eight years admittedly, but she was mad with her mother. And her mother didn’t blame her for that.
Beata turned the key in the front door and pushed it open. She held her daughter’s arm as she stepped gingerly over the threshold into her old home.
*
Katalin stopped a yard or so inside, taking in the smell … lavender, home cooking. She inhaled deeply.
‘I made a stew. Your favourite. To feed you up. Come on, let’s sit you down and get some coffee.’
Katalin smiled wryly but did as she was told. She sat on a kitchen chair and watched her mother fiddle with the coffee grounds. She was remembering a night eight years ago, a conversation in this kitchen that had spawned all of this awful time. She was feeling good to be home. But living with her mother … that was different. She had kept the stories about Marton's war crimes from her. He had been a monster and killed a child.
Beata brought the cups of coffee to the table and placed them on straw coasters, together with some tiny sweet biscuits.
‘Here we are, sweetheart. You can relax now. You are home. Now you will be safe, forever. I promise.’
Katalin smiled dutifully and picked up her cup.
Beata sat down next to her, perched on the edge of her chair. She looked worried, like she had some bad news to deliver.
‘Katalin … this has been such a terrible ordeal for you. And me also. But we need to live our lives better now. We have to build from this. It was just so awful being without you.’
Katalin looked at her mother with a cold understanding, which forgave little for now.
Beata leant towards her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, drawing her into her embrace.
‘And there is something that makes it much, much worse, my dear Katalin.’
Katalin tried to pull away gently, to listen better, but her mother held her firmly.
‘Katalin, I … I’ll just say it. Marton had been holding his own daughter prisoner for eight years.’
Katlin burst free from her mother’s embrace and glared at her.
‘What? Don't be stupid! My father disappeared a long time ago!’
‘Yes, Katalin. I did tell you that. But Marton … he was your father. Your father has been keeping you imprisoned all this time. It is so … I can’t say what, it hurts so much to know this.’
Katalin winced. She leaked a fresh spurt of tears and blurted at her mother.
‘But, Mother, why would he do that? To his own daughter?’
Beata pulled her daughter gently into her bosom and whispered over her shoulder.
‘My dear. He never knew he had a little girl. I never told him. That’s why.’
Katalin opened her eyes wide, despite the tears and pulled her head up.
‘Mother? What … why, I mean … what were you thinking by not telling him? He was visiting our house sometimes. And he was my father.’
‘Be … because it was a mistake, that’s all. It was just once. The man who I married, he wasn't your father. He left me for another reason altogether. I’m so sorry. But I just didn’t want Marton to know, in case my husband found out. Huh … in the end it didn’t matter to him since he left us, but at the time … ’
Katalin was overwhelmed by the news. Her mind was spinning trying to process it all, spawning a torrent of new questions.
After all the hurt of being kept captive by a man who was her mother’s friend … now he was her father on top of all that? Sure, he didn’t know it, but she knew it now. Who would want a child murderer for a father? And her mother kept that from her.
She shook her head and stood up, walked over to the window. The swing was moving in the breeze. It reminded her of that fateful day eight years ago, when she’d sat there, wondering what to make of the book she had just found.
Now, she wondered about how to re-start her life. That would include deciding whether she could live with her mother … in both senses of the word. As of two minutes ago, she wasn't sure she could do that.
In a graveyard
____________________________
Jenna was wrapped up well against the early-December chill, as she made her way down the gravel path that ran through the centre of the graveyard on the outskirts of Inverness.
She carried a small bunch of roses in front of her, together with some carnations that Calum had asked her to bring. Not much for a young life.
She slowed as she approached Ellie’s grave, sensing an aura of sadness shrouding the headstone. She stopped in front of the plot, read the inscription on the stone and started to cry gently.
She hadn’t known Ellie that well, she’d moved away from Plockton with her mother Cassie after she’d split up with Calum. It was a few years back now, but she remembered her as a small child playing on the village harbour with her friend after school. It made her think of home herself, what she'd left behind there in Plockton. The peaceful, loch-side village … and Gregor.
Stooping to slip the flowers into the metal holder, she became aware of footsteps. She didn’t look to see, didn’t want to invade anyone else’s private moments.
But the steps came closer and then she felt a hand on her shoulder.
‘So nice to see you here, Jenna.’
She turned to face the voice.
‘Oh. It's you, Cassie. Hi.’
‘Hello. It’s lovely when I see someone else at her grave. Feel less alone with it, you know?’
‘Yeah, I guess so, Cass.’
Cassie pressed her lips together. She looked at what Jenna was holding in her hands.
‘Nice flowers.’
Jenna wasn't sure what to say. She hesitated before confessing.
‘Yes, they are, the carnations are from Calum, he asked me to bring some for him. He’s a bit busy this week.’
‘Uhuh?’
Jenna shrugged her shoulders. Somewhat apologetically.
‘That’s Calum. Distances himself from messy emotional things, eh?’
Jenna smiled and nodded.
‘How is he anyway?’
Loaded question. Not answering that one.
‘Talk about Ellie much?’
Jenna shook her head. ‘Not a lot, no.’
‘Hmm. Talk about me? At all?’
Jenna looked up at her. She spoke slowly and kindly. ‘Not really, Cass, no.’
Cassie sighed a long sigh. Her breath warmed the chill air in front of her and turned to mist.
‘That’s that then, I guess.’
List of Characters
Calum Neuman
Scottish private investigator residing in Plockton, a small village on the west coast of Scotland.
Cassie Neuman
Calum Neuman’s former wife.
Ellie Neuman
Daughter of Calum and Cassie Neuman.
Jenna Strick
Calum’s former assistant, now at university in Inverness, Scotland.
Gregor Macleod
Jenna Strick’s former boyfriend in her home town village of Plockton.
Sarah McTeer
Scottish Masters student, researching in Budapest.
Susan McTeer
Sarah McTeer’s mother. Resides in Inverness, Scotland.
Aliz Gal
The manageress of the Hotel Cristal, Budapest, Hungary.
Katalin Sandor
A young woman from Budapest. Daughter of Beata Sandor.
Beata Sandor
Head librarian at the Ervin Szabo central library, Budapest, Hungary
Marton Kovacs
The elderly owner of the Hotel Cristal, Budapest, Hungary.
Peter Kovacs
Marton Kovacs’ son, practising as a doctor in Bucharest, Romania.
Alfred Nemeth
A friend and former colleague of Marton Kovacs, owner of a jeweller’s shop in Budapest.
David Pasztor<
br />
Marton Kovacs’ solicitor.
Eszter Borbely
Hungarian academic, assisting Sarah McTeer in her research in Budapest.
Izabella
A barmaid at the Grand Danubius hotel.
Niamh Sampson
The flatmate of Sarah McTeer in Inverness.
Alan Burton
An inmate at Barlinnie jail, Glasgow, Scotland. Jailed for a previous attempt on Calum Neuman’s life. Had also been incarcerated due to evidence from Calum Neuman in an earlier case.
Hanna Elek
A cleaner at the Hotel Cristal, Budapest.
D.I. John Gregg
A Scottish police detective, based in Glasgow.
Ervin Nagy
A police detective in Budapest.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Thanks are due to:
Jill for her reviews and support
Max for proof reading
Dan for the hotel illustration
John Hudspith, for being my editor
Cover design: Jane Dixon-Smith.
ALSO BY THIS AUTHOR IN THE CALUM NEUMAN SERIES
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