Neither she nor Wayne had complained. They were young, healthy and they had their love to keep them warm. She smiled at the memory.
Next section: extra courses. Maddie had to find the proper names of all the short courses she’d taken hidden somewhere on her hard drive. Not all that important, but warranting a mention, so a list would do. Short courses either run by the department itself or elsewhere. After a productive half hour, she had it assembled. She looked at the list then made it into a table headed ‘Courses: those attended and those presented’. That looked better. She’d produced a swag of courses over the years, mostly at conferences in the form of workshops. Another search and the list had expanded by half again.
She paused at how to handle her one and only job as a Probation Officer. Divide it up by time? Or by position? They were related concepts. She decided by position, starting when she was junior and ending with the responsibilities and authority she’d enjoyed before Romania. She began typing.
On the second re-write, she remembered her published papers. Relevant? Who knows, but they should be included; very few active Probation Officers had academic papers published internationally and she had three. The first was based on her masters’ research; the second when she had to deal with a difficult case that required a search of the literature on the subject; after all that research, the writing up of the case was a natural. The third was administrative when she and her boss had co-authored a paper about their experience turning a full time position into two part-time positions as a job-share and thus enticing back to work a couple of bright young women Probation Officers who had quit to be home with families.
Later, after the fifth and final edit, she concluded the CV was better sent as an attachment to an email to Bettina than in the body of an email itself. As she read it through one last time, she remembered it should also go to the union, an easy addition. She’d send it as a BCC so that Bettina wasn’t reminded about the union’s presence, even though she could assume Maddie would be represented some time or other.
Now to the email. That could be a detailed chronological account using the notes she’d meticulously kept when she realised she had a real problem with Romania. The requests to re-write the court reports. The extra hours. The training she’d provided for four of the Service Officers and their reactions. The resultant reports, including how one officer’s resultant report could be sent directly without editing. Romania’s response.
It didn’t take long. After pressing the ‘send’ button, she collapsed back in her office chair gazing down at her garden in the afternoon sunshine, exhausted. Weeding, she decided, was definitely easier.
Her phone rang. Shirley.
“Have you time for a coffee?” she asked. “I’ve just received a letter from Kathy.”
That woke Maddie up. “Same place as last time? Half an hour?” And so it was arranged.
Maddie found Shirley seated in the window alcove they’d occupied the last time they’d met with several pages of a hand-written letter in front of her. Once Maddie had ordered her coffee, she sat opposite.
“Why a letter not an email?” she asked.
“She’s a Luddite,” Shirley said with a smile. “Thinks history will be the worse for people no longer writing letters. Besides, she’s seventy-four years old.”
Maddie was genuinely surprised. “She’s worn well. I’d put her mid-sixties.”
“She’s wonderful, isn’t she! She’s only two years younger than me and looks ten years younger.”
“Not at all,” Maddie said gallantly. “The letter?” Safer ground.
“It’s full of genealogical stuff you won’t be interested in but I can give you what’s relevant.”
“I’m all ears,” Maddie said after thanking the waiter who had brought her the cappuccino she’d ordered.
“First, she’s having a grand time. As she always does. Kathy is so outgoing, she makes friends everywhere.”
Maddie nodded. She saw her that way, too.
“She’s met the distant cousins she’s known about for ages. Was staying with them for a while and apparently treated like visiting royalty. But this is what I really wanted to tell you. The cousins and the cousins of cousins Kathy met are all Milhouse relations. Some had it spelled with an extra ‘l’ – Millhouse. But not a single one had the extra ‘n’, with or without the extra ‘l’. Not only that, nobody has ever heard of Milhousens in the family tree.” Shirley sat back.
Maddie leaned forward. This was very interesting indeed. “Did she contact the Milhousen family she knows about? Whatsisname’s wife?”
“She said she tried but she’d been unsuccessful. The phone number he gave her didn’t work. Or she wrote it down wrongly.” Shirley smiled. “Probably the latter.”
“That’s it?”
“Heaven’s no. Kathy’s no slouch. She found some Milhousens in Cape Town in the White Pages and rang every single one of them. All four of them. They were all related to each other. German background. And none knew about any father with a daughter in the UK.”
Maddie’s thoughts were whirling. “This Milhousen you met, do you know his first name?”
“Sadly, no. I spotted him at the meeting. Mainly because he was a fresh face. But he wasn’t introduced as a new member or a guest so that means he is a viable member. I know his name because Kathy told me it, but I don’t think she mentioned his first name. Or I’ve forgotten it.”
“You didn’t recognise him from other meetings?”
“No. I’m positive I’ve never seen him before. A tall bloke, nice looking, I guess. Dressed very casually like I’d expect a South African to dress. Muscles bulging out of a short-sleeved shirt, you know the type. Like a farmer on the veldt.”
“I’d like to know more about him,” Maddie said, half to herself. “This whole story is odd. A stranger gives Kathy a very expensive plane ticket, nothing required in exchange. But to take advantage, she has to leave immediately. And pay for her return trip, I presume?”
“Yes, of course. The freebie was London to Cape Town.”
They sat silently, both absorbed by the improbable story.
“What motivation…,” Shirley started to ask.
Maddie spoke at the same time. “Is there any record of your meeting? Minutes?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Including names of attendees?”
“Some. New member, guests so they could be introduced. And anybody who spoke at the meeting.”
“No Milhousen?”
“I’m not totally sure. I know there was a small discussion when Kathy used her cousins in South Africa as an example of glitches that happen when assembling a family tree.” She looked at Maddie. “I can contact our secretary, if you want.”
On her way home, Maddie assessed why she was following up on this. She decided it was partially because she had the time at the moment, but mainly because of the incongruity of Kathy – of anybody – being given such a freebie, coupled with having to cough up for the return ticket. That combination was in itself interesting. Kathy was probably thrilled to be making a trip she must have wanted to make for some time, plus, given she was a retired teacher with limited means and South Africa was so far away, she would most likely believe this was her one and only opportunity for a visit there. It had to be made as worthwhile as possible. That might mean a long trip to take full advantage.
Maddie needed Kathy’s testimony for Henry’s sake. But it looked as if Kathy would not be returning back to the UK with any alacrity.
Chapter Fourteen
Maddie rummaged through her wardrobe looking for an outfit to wear to the barbecue at the Dymocks’. She checked the forecast for the umpteenth time: it still said sunny during the afternoon and 22 degrees, down to 21 by 6pm with a few scattered clouds. It looked like she could wear summer clothes but with something to put over her shoulders if the temperature went any lower than forecast. She swished her work clothes to one side of the clothing rail to assess what was suitable. She had fe
w casual clothes other than jeans and t-shirts. All right for someone in Jade’s age group to wear to the barbecue. Not her.
Her final pick of a knit top in pastel blues and greens determined wearing pale blue trousers over white sandals and carrying a white cardigan and her summer white shoulder bag. Yes.
Wayne was always a problem. He despised fussing over clothes at the best of times, finally agreeing to wear beige cargo pants and a collared polo shirt in a dark blue. Even Jade seemed relieved he was wearing more conventional clothing than usual.
Jade had put on black jeans as Maddie predicted, and over them she was wearing a sleeveless black t-shirt, but a new one with a swirl of gold sequins in front. Youthful, pretty and almost summery. The first non-plain black non-long sleeved top Maddie had seen on her daughter in too long. She had on eye makeup but no lipstick and her natural freckles were showing. Fingers crossed the Goth period was fading.
The Brooks family arrived at Ham Common just after four-thirty. The afternoon sunshine on the Dymock house highlighted the last remaining but still magnificent blooms of a gigantic wisteria which almost obliterated the white render of the substantial two storied house. They approached the formal portico and saw the door was open.
“Come in, come in,” Sharon called from somewhere within. “Go straight through to the back garden.” She appeared briefly to give air kisses to Maddie and Jade and a perfunctory hug for Wayne waving them towards a wide terrace outside at the back.
Already about twenty people were talking in small groups, wine glasses in hand. Donald came over to welcome them, shepherding them into a conservatory to one side of the back of the house where wine, glasses and various nibbles were laid out.
Jade disappeared with Freya; Wayne joined a group of men talking football and Donald turned his attention to Maddie.
“I really like this house,” she said to him. “It’s absolutely delightful from the street, lovely and airy inside and these extensions here in the back are modern, beautiful and useful.” She paused. “Sorry, I’m gushing. But I do love it.”
“A family house. Grandparents, then parents and finally me. I’m lucky.”
“You are indeed,” Maddie agreed with enthusiasm. “But look what you’ve done back here. These extensions are recent, I presume. And a gorgeous blend in keeping with the rest of the house. Besides being up to the minute in style.”
“I think you’re wasted as a Probation Officer,” Donald said. “You should be in real estate.”
She held up her glass to clink with his. “I’ll drink to that.”
“You have a lovely daughter,” he said. “Intelligent, slim, athletic and stunning looking. She must make the boys spin in their adolescent angst.”
Maddie was startled. He was talking about Jade? Her Jade? Skinny, almost no hips or boobs, straight badly died black hair, shy. Looking almost pre-pubescent. What planet was he on? “Well, thank you, Donald,” she said. “I guess a mother sees her teenaged daughter as just a slightly older little girl.”
He gave a hearty laugh. “Yes, there’s the little girl still in her – long may it last.”
“It’s lovely our two daughters are such good pals.”
He raised his glass to her. Maddie clinked glasses, just ever-so-slightly disturbed.
“Your work must be interesting,” he said. “And I hear you’re involved with that guy who attacked one of our schoolgirls way back when. Freed rather briefly, I gather, and now back inside after our little murder. Very sad. I’m not sure about releasing sex criminals into the community.”
Maddie cursed Jade for talking about what should be totally private. Cursed herself for trusting her. Then realised Freya was often at home with Jade. Freya. Dammit. A direct conduit straight to her. She kicked herself. She’d have to be much more discreet.
She decided not to get into a debate about the probities of parole. “My work is interesting, and I do meet some famous, or rather, infamous people,” she said. “Yes, the awful murder of the young schoolgirl. The police have some suspects. Given the schoolgirl attacker of yore is back in prison, I guess we can assume he’s on the list.” She smiled, knowing she hadn’t given him a single morsel of new information.
“I gather you’ve had some trouble at work,” he said. “Hope it’s not serious.”
Proof Freya had been talking. “Nothing a good temper tantrum won’t cure,” she said lightly then decided to divert the conversation before it got awkward. “I hear you descend from one of William the Conqueror’s knights.”
“Not proven, but probable,” he said. “Those times are fascinating. Our name, Dymock was spelled various ways back then like Dymoke or Dimmock. It’s a combination of two words: ‘Dim’ means fort or manor and ‘ock’ comes from the old English word for oak. So, Dymock is Oak Manor.”
“Old English, not French.”
“Interesting you should say that. History records a Dimmock Manor in Lincolnshire was owned by a Nicholas de Dimmock about a hundred years after William the Bastard invaded. It’s quite possible that Nicholas’s great great grandfather was a knight who was awarded Dimmock Manor by a grateful William. Thus Nicholas was known as de – ‘of’ or ‘from’ – Oak Manor.”
Maddie laughed politely along with Donald. “I guess genealogy has passed me by,” she said. “Not that I’m incurious about where I’ve come from, but because when you’re descended from peasants, nobody records much of anything.”
“Oh, I’m sure there are many famous Brooks’ ancestors,” he said.
Sharon called him to start the barbecue and he was away before Maddie could reply that Brooks would have been the name of Wayne’s ancestors, not hers.
She stood in the conservatory doorway looking out over the scene. She spotted Jade and Freya in a group of young people sitting on a grassy spot under a large apple tree near the Dymock’s small curved swimming pool; Wayne was now talking to an attractive young blonde woman on the terrace with groups forming and re-forming around them and Sharon and Donald were fussing with food near the barbecue.
They were an attractive couple. Sharon was tall and slim, still looking like the model she once was and Donald was muscular, with his forearms bulging under the short sleeved shirt he was wearing over long khaki shorts and trainers. He looked like an Aussie, even though it was Sharon who was born in Australia. Actually, he looked every inch of how a gym teacher should look.
The golden couple turned to make their way towards Maddie, joining her at the top of the steps into the conservatory. “Going to give a little speech,” he said with an apologetic smile.
Maddie got the message. “I’ll just join the throng.” She spotted Wayne again and made her way to him, telling him Donald and Sharon where about to speak to them all.
“Friends,” Donald said in a voice she could imagine he could use to quieten a gym full of unruly teenaged girls. “We’ve invited you here today so we can tell you about some plans of ours. Plans about what we’re about to do in the near future.” He turned to Sharon and, with one arm, hugged her to him. “My dear wife, as you know, is in the fashion business. She’s just been offered a wonderful opportunity to transfer across the pond. She’s to be the collection manager for her firm in New York City.”
People reacted with clapping, moans and ‘oh, no’s.
“Of course, we didn’t tell anybody, including the upper management until we knew I could get a position in New York as well. I’m no house-husband.”
Laughter.
“And, I’m here to tell you, come September, I’ll be starting as a phys ed teacher with a private Episcopalian school on Long Island. Sharon will start her Manhattan job and Freya hasn’t made up her mind yet. She’s applied to various universities here and we’re encouraging her to apply over there just in case she wants to join us.”
Maddie searched for Jade in order to see her face but too many people were in the way. How had Freya kept this secret? She’d know Jade would be devastated.
Donald was talking again. “Yes,
it will mean leaving ole Blighty, but we’re not selling up here. Who knows how we’ll like it over there? And who could give up this?” He held out his arms to encompass his manor, oaks or no oaks.
Of course, from then on, the only topic of conversation was this surprising announcement.
Maddie took her too-full plate of food over to one of several picnic tables on the grass near the pool. She wasn’t a plate-on-your-lap sort of eater at the best of times. Especially not when she was wearing this particular knit top. She joined several others who felt the same way. When she walked over to replenish her wine glass, she again paused at the doorway of the conservatory. Now, the sun was more westerly and soaking the world in yellowing light. Donald was again at the barbecue cooking yet more steaks, his light brown hair now a burnished gold.
She stared. No. No, it couldn’t be. She broke out in a cold sweat. Looked away. Looked back. Tried to banish the thought. Donald. Late sunshine highlighting his hair. Interested in genealogy. Looking now, in his shorts and trainers and at the barbie, like an Aussie. Or, looking like a farmer on the veldt.
Maddie grabbed another glass of red and headed back to the table. The conversation was back to New York City, ex-mayor Rudy Giuliani, crime and American politics. She joined in, all the while watching out for Wayne. When she spotted him, he was leaning over Sharon who was arching back as far as she could. Maddie leapt up and headed over to rescue her.
“Hi, Wayne,” she said slightly loudly. “Sorry, Sharon, I’m here to take the boy home.”
Grateful eyes met hers. “See you soon, Wayne. Lovely to have had you here.”
“Evening’s only sh – started. Haven’t had food yet,” he said, tipping his glass up and finishing whatever it was.
Maddie took the glass. She could smell it. Whisky. Probably neat.
Death in Cold Waters Page 9