Over supper in the hotel restaurant they evaluated the surprising events of the day.
“Tomorrow I’ve arranged to meet a Spanish solicitor in Nueva Andalucía, who with your permission, I have provisionally instructed to assist us to protect your interests here in Spain. Their offices are just out of the port of Banus near the bullring. I am going to ask them to do look into Mr Newman and the Spanish company and find out what he has done in your name, why he has a power of attorney over you , why he has your furniture and where the bastard has hidden the money he’s taken from you. How dare he? Who the hell does he think he is? Immoral, totally bloody immoral!” He banged the hilt of his knife down hard on the table cloth which made several other diners turn and stare. “Lo siento” he apologised in his posh voice, thrust his shoulders back and tucked the linen napkin into his collar before he scoffed his deep fried baby octopus.
The following day Henrietta paid the customary engagement fee in the modern Lawyers office and in turn they promised to report to Clive. Then after a pleasant luncheon in Neueva Andalucía, they drove back to Oscar’s school to return the remote and say their goodbyes, then drove onward to the airport to catch the return flight home. As they approached the flight desk, Clive suddenly said:
“Henrietta, I realise you must get back into that villa for those papers we saw, to give to the Police.”
“You’re joking! I’m terrified!” But as she protested Clive threw his arms wide open, gave her a consolatory bear hug and talked straight:
“You have to do this. It is vital evidence for you to prove what he has been doing behind your back. I was awake all night wondering what he might be up to. If he really has bought that huge villa in your name without you knowing, what else has he done that you might also be responsible for? The lawyers will check the land registry and the companies register over the next few days. If the villa is in your name, you must claim it back.”
“I don’t want it and can’t afford it. Please let me go back with you?” She pleaded as she popped her final Rennie into her mouth to alleviate her anxiety. They strolled towards the row of shops before the departure gate and Clive bought the largest box of Rennies.
“A gift for you from me. Now go to that opening of Newman’s restaurant tonight. He won’t dare pull any stunts because if Oscar is right, the press will be there. Besides, the restaurant might be in your name too.”
“Where shall I stay?”
“At the villa! Why not? He keeps phoning to remind you that you are his fiancée, no matter what you think! Tell him that you’ve found out that it’s in your name and that by Law he has to let you in. If there’s a problem, phone the new solicitors.” He grabbed her shoulders, kissed her forehead then walked away toward his gate and homebound plane.
May 4th 2008.
Henrietta carried her bag back to Hertz and managed to resume her deal with the same car. As she drove in a semi-trance along the toll road in the fading sunlight she repeated ‘oh dear, oh dear’ over and over again and ground her teeth through at least eight more Rennies which had absolutely no effect on her nervous tum.
When she arrived at Sotogrande, she drove into the port as the sun was setting. She parked the car and found an inconspicuous seat on a bench in the fountain square behind the KE bar and observed Terry’s restaurant staff preparing trestle tables with champagne flutes and platters of party food. Terry appeared. He had shaved his head, was wearing Prada sun glasses and dressed in a white Hugo Boss suit, black shirt and shiny shoes. ‘Definitely a mid-life crisis’ she concluded and watched as he greeted people she did not know with kisses and handshakes and posed for numerous photographs in front of the cameras.
Hetty had seen enough, ate one more Rennie and walked directly toward the restaurant and accepted a glass of Cava from a waiter and took a huge slug for Dutch courage. It was a mistake, as the sparkling wine fizzed in her oesophagus and reacted horrifically with the umpteen Rennies she had eaten and became effervescent. Foam rose in her throat and filled her mouth and nose and she panicked as the urge to expunge the bubbles became overwhelming. She jumped behind a large bougainvillea bush and spat and snorted out the foam into the flower bed as quickly and discreetly as she could. ’Oh shit, I’m foaming at the mouth and he’s got a power attorney over me, he’ll have me locked up for suspected rabies if he sees this.’ She was ashamed but eventually relieved. She dabbed her face on a tissue and blew her nose, then stepped gracefully out of the flower bed and toward the reprobate who was too busy delivering blandishments to his socially important guests to notice her, until she kissed him fleetingly on the cheek and said:
“Surprise!” She turned to the couple standing beside him and offered her hand; “How do you do, I’m Henrietta, Terry’s fiancée, nice to meet you.” Terry was dumbstruck and the couple looked confused and did not accept her hand but said:
“You can’t be Henrietta. Terry has told us of her suicide bid after their split.” Their tone changed; “Who is this Terry?” They turned to him for an explanation but he had discretely slipped away.
Other guests came forward to speak with her and Henrietta was livid that she was reputedly dead and that Terry had kindly taken responsibility for her orphaned son who he had enrolled at the International School and was paying the exorbitant fees in return for a few shifts of labour in the restaurant! The insult drove Hetty to behave irrationally.
“Hello everyone!” she said as loudly as she could whilst tapping her glass with the gold band of her ring for attention; “I hope you will all join with me to wish Terry, my fiancée, every success in his new venture which I seem to have financed.” She raised her glass and toasted ‘Terry’. Everyone joined in the toast whilst he gave her the most hateful look she had ever seen, just as a camera flashed and a young woman asked Hetty how to spell her name for the forthcoming Marbella equivalent of Hello.
Whispers of gossip swept around the gathering and everyone wanted to know who Henrietta was, how she had recovered and why there were no noticeable ligature marks on her neck from her self- imposed hanging. She became increasingly angry as those present could not decide whether she was a pathetic crackpot who had deceived her fiancé for his pity or whether he was lying about her death to enable his recent engagement to Margot to be socially acceptable. Finally the illusive duplicate fiancée Margot introduced herself with a firm hand shake:
“Hi, I’m Margot, pleasure to meet you. Terry has told me so much about you. I hope you don’t mind me saying that I am very confused, as Terry seemed distraught when you harmed yourself. I saw him after he went into the school to break the unfortunate news to your son and I drove him to the airport the following morning when he went to England to sort everything out, as your next of kin. I was very concerned about him and I was rather nervous about driving his car back all that way back.”
“He let you drive uninsured?”
“How do you mean?”
“I’d know who is insured to drive my car and you’re not. I’m sorry if you’re disappointed that I’m actually alive and well? You should in fact be grateful as I suspect I have probably saved your arse! Tell me about your relationship with him, I hear you are engaged?”
“Yes, he took me to a wonderful little hotel restaurant in a gorgeous village called Benahavis, in the hills.”
“I know it well. Where did you meet?”
“At San Roque golf club. My son has lessons there. He is at school with your son.”
“You know Oscar?”
“Yes. What a handsome boy. Anyway, he said he was new to the area and asked me if I would show him round. I introduced him to lots of people and he took me out to loads of places and was very nice to my son too. He has played golf with him several times, which is great as they both have a very similar handicap; three and four. My Mum and sister like him and Mum even invited him for Christmas. We went to the New Year Ball at the golf club, which was lovely……”
“You know he came to England between Christmas and New Year don’t
you?”
“He had to see his children, he misses them so much. Divorce is hard, isn’t it?”
“He called on me too, unfortunately, the bastard…”
Henrietta gave Margot a meaningful look and although both girls were sparring, they felt no serious animosity towards one another. They looked around for Terry, as he was the one to do the explaining, but he had deserted his party guests and gone home early.
“I don’t think he can cope with the fact that you miraculously turned up out of the blue.”
“Well, what does that tell you?” asked Henrietta. “I think I should go too.”
“Where are you staying?” asked Margot.
“At the villa I suppose. It is mine.”
“Your villa? Are you saying it’s yours?” she enquired.
“I am informed that it’s in my name, so yes. Terry has no right to it at all.” She wasn’t lying if Clive was to be believed. Margot was disgruntled and confused but her female instinct told her that Hetty was no liar and she admired her, even if they were seemingly both engaged to the same duplicitous man. She told Henrietta that she would continue to manage the party on Terry’s behalf but Henrietta didn’t give a damn about Terry’s business as her mind was focused on facing the man back at Hell HQ.
She drove up to the big gates and pressed the intercom buzzer repeatedly until the reticent Terry answered.
“What do you want, you stupid fucking bitch?”
“Let me in, Terry!”
“No, fuck off!!”
“Let me in to MY villa or I go to the police and tell them you are squatting. I mean it!”
Miraculously the gates were opened and he was waiting at the open door.
“What kind of a stunt was that? It was my big night! You fucked everything up Henrietta. You have no idea what damage you have done. You made me think you wanted nothing more to do with me and I thought our relationship was dead. I told everyone.”
“Yes, I heard. Sorry to disappoint you!” She pushed past him and into the hallway. “Which room is mine? It is hard to tell, there is so much of my stuff everywhere.”
“None of it is yours now, you cleared off and left it. I rescued it, so it is mine. Finders, keepers.”
Henrietta refused to sleep in the guest suite where he had imprisoned her in on her previous visit and asked to choose another room. She picked a brightly decorated room designed for his girls, when they visited. He closed the door respectfully and left her alone. She quietly dragged the spare single bed in front of the door to prevent Terry entering without considerable difficulty and had a hot bath before a much needed sleep.
The following morning she went downstairs into the kitchen and scoured the cupboards for cereal, milk and coffee. Terry appeared and seemed unsure how to behave or what to say.
“You can stay here today and I suppose you’ll want to see your son. He can also stay here tonight if you get him out of school, but I insist that you remain out of sight and speak to no one. Then tomorrow you leave for good.” He looked her directly in the eye. “I mean; you leave and never come back, like you are actually dead. Are we clear?” He was resolute. She acquiesced to his deal and spent the day in Puerto Banus with Oscar and his school friend Demetri. In the evening they ate at a local Argentinian restaurant in Guadiaro with a fabulous culinary reputation and a hefty bill. It was not often she was able to treat Oscar and thought the enormous steaks were worth every euro. They picked up a spare key from Terry and slept at his villa whilst he worked at the restaurant. The following day Terry reiterated their agreement, took the house key from her and went off to Gibraltar to do some ‘banking’. He asked her to change the bedding before she left as he was collecting friends from the airport at lunch time for a short holiday whilst they viewed properties in the area. He told her that if they did business with him, he would be able to repay his debt. Henrietta had heard it all before and had no intention of leaving.
Once Terry had gone, she called Clive and asked for his advice. He was delighted by her bravery and access to the villa and was adamant that she should stand her ground.
May 5th 2008.
It was just after 3pm when Henrietta heard the car in the driveway and warned the boys to stay out of sight upstairs whist she informed Terry that she would not be leaving. She heard laughing and gushing compliments about Terry’s car and magnificent home which proved what a success he had become. They did not know yet, but Hetty vowed to put them straight.
The oversized hardwood door opened into the internal courtyard.
“Hello, do come in.” Hetty said casually as the two men and two women entered. Terry was furious that Henrietta had not fled and would now spoil his foursome.
“This is my maid.” He told his guests, whilst scowling at Hetty.
“How dare you! You might try to treat me like one, but this is my house.”
“Have you been drinking Henrietta? Could I have a word in the kitchen, please?” Terry gestured towards the door and excused himself momentarily from his guests who made themselves comfortable on the cushioned seats by the little fountain.
“What the fuck are you doing, Hetty? You should have left. We had a deal. How dare you!”
“Yes, about that deal, I’ve changed my mind. I’ve received the mortgage demands for this place. Did you actually think you could get away with whatever you have done? I stay!”
“You don’t even know what I’ve done. You’re too gullible and stupid to understand. The house is mine, the mortgage is yours. Pay it or you’ll be in trouble and could end up in jail!”
“Don’t be ridiculous, I am not stupid and no-one goes to prison for not paying their mortgage, especially if they didn’t ask for one.”
“You did ask for one and the bank manager, who I play golf with, the man you met with Ted, has shredded the original documents so you have no proof you didn’t, so fuck off.”
He thumped her with a side swipe of his fist and knocked her against the tiled wall which hurt her head and made her temporarily deaf in her left ear and thought she might have re-broken her wrist on the granite. He closed in for another punch but Hetty bobbed down out of his way and ran upstairs to Oscar and Demetri and told them to bolt their door. She overheard Terry speaking to his visitors then heard him pounding up the marble staircase in pursuit of her, so ran into the room she had occupied the night before and hid behind the marble wall in the shower and phoned Clive.
Terry ran to the boy’s room first, rattled the handle and demanded the door be opened. The frightened boys stood well back, whilst in the other room Hetty quickly explained the situation to Clive before Terry found her and started screaming threats of violence and grabbed her by her neck, but she shoved her phone in his face and told him that her solicitor was listening. He snatched hold of it, listened into the receiver and was assured that Hetty was not lying. He released her, relaxed his aggressive posture, asked her to leave the house immediately and went downstairs to appease and entertain his guests. Henrietta continued her conversation with Clive and continued to tremble. He told her to wait with the boys whilst he phoned the local police whose number he had noted.
Five minutes later there was a buzz at the gate and the community guards brought two armed Guardia Civil officers with them on instruction from Clive. The formidable, armed Guardia officers in polished boots and combat outfits demanded entry and an explanation from Terry. Then they also asked to see and speak to Henrietta who had heard the commotion and finally appeared with the boys shielded behind her back and with the help of Oscar’s friend they gave a true account in Spanish of what had happened. Hetty’s phone rang, it was Clive.
“Have the police arrived yet?” He asked. “Put me on the phone to them.”
Clive spoke in fluent Spanish to the officer, explained who he was and enlightened him about what he had over-heard. The Guardia officer handed back her phone then shoved Terry up against the wall and kicked his legs apart aggressively and read him his rights in Spanish while he handcuffed
his arms behind his back. Then upon Clive’s request, the Guardia insisted that Terry hand over the house and car keys to their rightful owner. Terry was embarrassed and humiliated in front of his guests as he had to allow the officer pull the keys from the pocket of his shorts and watch them being given to Hetty. Terry was taken away to be held the local police station until his violence could be brought before a Court. His guests picked up their luggage, walked to the gate and called for a taxi to take them to a hotel.
Henrietta phoned Clive:
“They have all gone. I don’t know how you did that but it was fantastic! You should have seen his face. I thought he was going to cry.”
“I had envisaged that it might come to this, I was prepared. You are safe now Henrietta. The Guardia take domestic violence very seriously in Spain, not like our namby-pamby force, that lot are fierce. Shame they didn’t finish the job and shoot him!” Clive felt triumphant.
“Now what do I do, Clive?”
“Take the boys back to school, then go through that villa with a fine toothed comb. Collect all his papers into bags and get them to me. I will fetch them if I have to. Meanwhile I will phone that woman at the bank and tell her what we have achieved and arrange for you to hand the villa keys over to them. Phone your removal man and get your things taken home but don’t worry about his stuff, they can have the lot! Until then, enjoy your private hotel, swimming pool and vacant sunbeds. Take care. Oh, before I forget, the police told me that you will have to go into the station to make a formal statement called a ‘Denuncia’ against Mr Newman and I said you would go in the morning when you had calmed down, so you must go at ten o’clock. I will also phone the Spanish solicitors and arrange for them to represent you if there is a hearing and try to get an immediate injunction against that psycho.”
The Unsuspecting Housewife Page 12