What did he want? Alex knew you didn’t decline this sort of invitation. The good thing was it had been cordial enough… so far! They appeared to be travelling north. Alex was aware Ellison had a home somewhere in north London and perhaps that was where they were heading. At least it was better than a warehouse near the docks.
The car turned into an affluent-looking road and at the far end entered the driveway of a detached mock Tudor property. Alex was ushered from the car into the main reception hall. He was still accompanied by his companions, but not, it seemed to him, in a threatening way. As he was directed into a downstairs room, Alex thought he saw someone out of the corner of his eye on the main staircase. The two men withdrew and Alex was left on his own. He crossed over to the windows but found them locked. No escape that way! He came back towards the centre of the room, intending to try the door, when it opened and a young girl entered.
In deference to the heat of the day she was wearing very little, and what she was left nothing to the imagination. She was about nineteen or so, Alex estimated. She circled around him, eying him up and down, her hands with scarlet painted nails smoothing down her curves and then touching her full red lips.
‘I saw you come in. You’re nice! Would you like to play with Lizzy?’
She came close to him and laid one scarlet-tipped hand on his chest. This was not the sort of household in which to cut up rough with one of its occupants, so Alex just kept still and tried to ignore her.
She stood on tip toe and planted her mouth on his. Disappointed at the lack of result she started to undo his tie and open his shirt, placing her hands on his skin. He began to feel anger at her unwelcome touch, but he kept himself in control. She kissed him again and pressed her body against his chest, her hands getting bolder on his skin. Now, it seemed, even more annoyed at the lack of response, she moved her hand down below his waist with one obvious intention. Alex moved like lightning and caught the roving hand in an iron grip and moved it away from his body.
Neither person had noticed the door opening again, and the man who entered stood for a moment, observing the scene.
‘Oh for God’s sake, Lizzy, put him down. He could eat you for breakfast if he wanted. Anyway, he’s spoken for. Now scram!’
The young girl flounced out of the room, rubbing her wrist. Jack Ellison held up both hands in apology.
‘Sorry about that. She’s got a one-track mind that one. I’ll have to do something about it before her mother complains to me again.’
The smile was rueful. He watched Alex straightening his clothing ‘That wasn’t the reason you were invited here, I assure you.’ He took a handkerchief out of his breast pocket and handed it to the other man. ‘You might need this. That colour doesn’t do anything for you.’
Alex scraped at his mouth with the handkerchief and went to hand it back.
‘Keep it, why don’t you. Unless it can be construed as a bribe, eh?’
Stuffing the stained handkerchief into his trouser pocket, Alex looked at Ellison, his face calm and expressionless.
‘What do you want, Ellison? I haven’t got all night.’
CHAPTER 7
The older man waved Alex to a chair and offered him a drink, but was refused. Turning to his desk, Ellison reached for a small envelope and took from it a set of photographs, handing one to his companion.
‘I like to keep an eye on things that are happening which might be of interest to me. In light of this, I felt I needed to have a word with you. I told the boys to look out for an opportunity.’
Curious now, Alex was unprepared for the content of the photograph. It was of himself and Catherine leaving La Gioconda the other night. Despite his serious situation, Alex could not help the feelings that flooded through him, looking at the beautiful woman in the photograph. This was his wife, and his body remembered the events of later that evening. He looked up at Ellison, and found himself being regarded with keen interest.
‘I’m sure you haven’t brought me all the way here to show me that.’
‘You’re quite right. It wasn’t until I checked on just who the lady might be that I began wondering.’
He passed another photograph over to Alex. It showed Geoffrey Villiers together with Johnny Clarke.
This was more like it, thought Alex. Johnny Clarke was the opposition, and he could understand his movements being of considerable importance.
Ellison sat back in his chair. ‘Now, the interesting part comes when, on the same evening, in the same restaurant, we have dining a business opponent of mine, a lawyer who is a friend of a certain High Court Judge, the Judge’s niece and her new husband, who is a police officer. Add to that the fact that the Judge has just tried a case which had a good outcome, connected with an opponent, and you might begin to wonder if anything is going on. Is it, Mr Policeman?’
Alex relaxed his stiff shoulders. ‘I couldn’t say. I took my wife to the restaurant that night as it was my birthday. Who else happened to be dining there at the same time was pure coincidence.’
‘I’m not sure I believe you, Hartman, but that’s by the by. What I don’t like is the idea that Clarke appears to have friends in high places in the judiciary; and I wonder, does he also have friends in the police force? In other words, Hartman, are you going back to your roots and branching out into areas more lucrative? Was the Judge’s niece a present for you having been a good boy at some time in the past – or future?’
For Alex, this suggestion was too close to the content of the recent conversation held at Richmond and his blood boiled. He stood up and looked at the other man, his grey eyes cold.
‘You can make all the inferences you want, Ellison, and they’ll all come out wrong. I married my wife because I love her and I warn you now, stay away from her, or I’ll come back here to find you, and I won’t be afraid to be on my own. I intend to leave here now, and anyone who stops me will be in trouble.’
‘Oh sit down, for God’s sake,’ sighed the other man. ‘I know very well you can handle yourself. That’s why I asked the lads to invite you… with care. I needed to find out if you’d changed horses again. You’ve gone from poacher to gamekeeper in your life and I wondered if you had reverted back, playing games on Clarke’s team. If you were, I was going to offer you more to switch sides. I know your capabilities and I would rather have them working for me than the opposition. Speaking of which, now you have expensive family obligations, I could offer you more than the police force pay, if you were interested. You’d be far more useful than a lot of the dossers on my payroll at the moment. We both remember how it was done in the old days.’
‘Thanks for the offer, but no thanks. Is that all?’
‘Not quite. I understand you used to frequent the late Joe Fenton’s place. You’ve been observed, not only by my colleagues but, so I’m told, by others who also appear interested in photography.’
So, Alex thought, his suspicions of being watched had been correct.
‘I used the gym when I felt like it.’
‘Was Fenton telling you stuff, and was that why he was nailed?’
‘I told you, I used the gym. I knew Fenton, like you, from the old days. It was a great shame, what happened.’
‘I’ll bet you know as well as I do that Clarke was behind that little caper. Sore because his little prank to hurt me was spoiled. I’m damn sure it was Clarke, it has his handiwork written all over it – or at least the person who does these things for him.’
‘Handiwork?’
Ellison grimaced. ‘Yes, the ability not to get caught! You know it’s strange, isn’t it, that you’re in the mix with that Fenton thing too? If I didn’t know better I’d say you had something to do with that warning. Trying to keep the peace, eh? Needless to say, don’t think I’m not grateful.’
Alex shrugged. ‘If I knew what you were talking about, I might be able to make a comment.’
Ellison gave him a disbelieving look.
‘What’s your take on Judge Franklin?’
Although surprised at the question, Alex attempted to keep his face expressionless. ‘How do you mean?’
‘If you’ve married his niece, you must have come to know him, how he operates?’
‘I didn’t have a lot to do with him.’ For old times sake, though, he added, ‘If I’m honest, I didn’t warm to him. What’s your interest, anyway?’
‘One or two unsubstantiated rumours are starting to circulate that maybe favours have come from him, in his official capacity. I want to make sure that the opposition are not getting an unfair advantage. Something your side of the pond might like to poke around in, perhaps?’
Alex pretended to think. ‘Yes, you may be right. If you hear anything, I might be interested.’
‘I’ll consider it.’ Ellison stood up. ‘Now, I must let you get back to your new wife. I think it would be fair to say that you’re fond of her, considering your expression when you saw that photograph. A bit too revealing, Hartman! Someone with bad intentions could have used that knowledge for their own ends. You’re getting soft and letting your guard down, boy. Remember the old days. Keep yourself and your emotions buttoned up.’
He walked back to his desk and picked up the photograph. ‘Here, have this one on me. Should look nice in a frame.’
Alex was ushered out of the house and into the car. He was taken back over the river, but at his insistence was dropped about a quarter of a mile away from the flat. He needed another walk and time to think.
It felt warm and comforting to turn his key in the lock and hear Catherine’s soft voice calling his name. He knew he was now late and she must have wondered where he was, but she met him with a smile. He went to her and, much to her surprise, folded her in his arms and kissed her, hard. He looked into her beautiful face and thought how clean and innocent she was, and once again vowed to do his best to keep his life’s more unsavoury experiences away from her.
*
‘I’ll have to take some stuff to the dry cleaners today. Do you have anything to go?’
Catherine’s call arrested Alex just as he was leaving. He was on duty at Heathrow today and that meant setting out earlier.
‘Yes, my navy suit could do with a clean. Can you manage it all?’
‘Yes, that’s fine. If not I’ll get a taxi.’
Later, sorting through the pockets of the clothes she was taking, Catherine pulled out a handkerchief from the trouser pocket of the navy suit. She knew all her linen by now, and this item was strange. For a moment she thought it was stained with blood, but when she looked closer she realised what it was. Bright red lipstick! Nothing like any she owned. Her hand started shaking.
For quite a while, Catherine sat on the bed, staring at the livid red stain, her insides churning. Where had it come from? Then it came to her. Alex had worn the suit the other day when he was very late coming home. She hadn’t questioned where he’d been. She tried not to. His was not a nine to five job. He did his best to let her know if he was ever going to be extra late.
Then she remembered that on arriving home he had come to her and, without a word, kissed her almost as if… he felt guilty. No, she mustn’t think that way. She must trust him. She would get rid of the wretched thing and try to forget it. With that intent she pushed it to the bottom of the waste bin, but it wasn’t quite so easy to dismiss the question in her heart.
*
The sickness each morning was becoming quite severe. Catherine now made a point of not getting up until after Alex had left for work. He questioned it at the beginning, but she laughed it off as just being lazy. There now seemed little doubt as to her condition, and she knew she must have it confirmed, one way or the other.
Would Alex be pleased, or not? Although he had agreed to the idea in principle, she couldn’t explain the reluctance she felt to speak to him about it. She should have been brimming with joy, and eager to tell him, but somehow she was uncertain as to his reaction. If, however, she was honest with herself she knew it was because of her recent discovery of the handkerchief, which still hovered in the back of her mind.
She also knew she had become a little hesitant about their love-making. She realised she was quite naive about the whole pregnancy process, and needed to learn about what would happen to her body as time went on.
The telephone ringing startled her out of her thoughts.She moved through into the lounge to answer it.
‘Hello, is that Catherine Hartman?’
She had seldom been called by her married name, and it still sounded strange.
‘Yes, it is.’
‘Hi Catherine, its Andrea Brown from Brompton Language Liaison. I was wondering if I could ask a favour?’
Although living too far away now to assist the hospital in language problems in an emergency, Catherine had still offered to help if they required any sorting out of long-term paperwork.
‘Yes, of course, Andrea. How can I help you?’
‘Well, it’s not for us, and I don’t know if you’ll agree, but I’ve had a call from a colleague of mine at Fulham General. They have a French national with them who’s causing some bother. Their main French speaker is on holiday and the other one is not very fluent and is having some problem with the dialect. They’re in a bit of a panic and rang me wondering if we had anyone more experienced who might be able to help out. We’ve sort of assisted each other in the past if needed, and I just wondered if you might be free. They have agreed to pay for your expenses, by the way. Can you help out at all?’
Catherine thought for a moment. There was no reason why she couldn’t. It ought to take about an hour or so, if that.
‘Yes, that’s OK, Andrea. I’ll help out. Can you give me a little while to sort myself out at this end? Who do I contact when I get there?’
They made their arrangements and Catherine wrote down a few details. She washed and dressed with care, and when she considered that the sickness was passing off, called a taxi.
In fact, the whole problem took most of the morning. The elderly man was in an emotional state and it required all of Catherine’s knowledge to help him through the various departmental questions. After he was settled in a ward, Catherine was offered a cup of tea by the Ward Sister, with her grateful thanks for the assistance. Somehow Catherine started to tell her about her pregnancy suspicions, and before she knew it, she was whisked to Maternity.
Sitting in the taxi on her return journey home, Catherine found it hard to contain her happiness. It was definite, the results were positive. Now she was sure, she must tell Alex. Tonight, if she could. She hugged herself and thought about the miracle taking place inside her.
CHAPTER 8
The taxi passed through a parade of shops and turned right, opposite a church, into a pleasant tree-lined road. Catherine was gazing out of the window, still dreaming, when she saw it. A house for sale. Her eyes fixed on it as the vehicle passed by. Without conscious thought she asked the driver to stop and wait. She walked across the road and up to the gate. It was a 1930s red brick and pebbledash semi-detached with bay windows top and bottom, as were all the houses in the road. The garden looked a little overgrown, as if it had been unattended for some time, but the house itself seemed well cared for from the outside. For some unaccountable reason, Catherine knew that this would be the right home in which to start their family. Noting the estate agent’s details, she walked back to the waiting taxi and requested to be dropped off outside their offices.
Caught up in her dream of the future, she lost all track of time. She was informed that the property had just come on the market. It was being sold by a widowed lady so that she could live with her daughter in the West Country. It needed some updating, but this was reflected in the price being asked. As the property was empty the young salesman, eager to please his attractive client, offered to show her rou
nd. He was at pains to assure her that a female member of staff would accompany them.
Once inside the property, Catherine was even more certain that this was the right house. Despite its old-fashioned décor it felt light and airy and welcoming. The back garden would be a delight for children to play in.
The agent warned her that the property would be snapped up and advised her, if she was interested, that a decision would need to be made as soon as possible. He asked if finance was in place and she had to admit to him that nothing had been discussed. Before she knew it he had conducted her back to his office and began to offer advice on the various options. Listening to him, Catherine was still unaware of time passing by. When she climbed into the taxi to head for home, clutching a folder full of paperwork, she smiled to herself with pleasure. She would have so much to discuss with Alex tonight.
*
The flat seemed rather silent as Alex let himself in. He called out, but there was no reply. He went into each of the rooms but they were empty. Where was Catherine? He looked at his watch. It was nearly six o’clock. There was no message left anywhere. He wracked his brains. He didn’t remember her saying she was going out with Sarah today. She’d still been in bed when he left this morning, something she now seemed to do regularly, and that caused him some disquiet.
He waited another fifteen minutes and then rang Sarah’s number. There was no reply. He looked down at the pad by the telephone and saw Catherine’s writing. Something about Fulham General, and a Sue Potter, with a number. Becoming alarmed by now, Alex decided to ring the number. After a long wait he was put through to someone who remembered that Catherine had been at the hospital that morning but had left just after lunch. Putting down the phone, his anxiety grew. It was now after six-thirty.
Might she have gone to Richmond to see her uncle? Alex was aware that Catherine had a soft heart and wouldn’t feel comfortable with the strained situation as it had developed. She had promised him she wouldn’t see her uncle alone, but Alex had experienced her impulsive behaviour, and something could have changed her mind. He grew afraid. If she had gone to see her uncle, was he capable of spiriting her away? He could deny he had done anything, other than speak to her, and then seen her on her way home.
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