THE COMPLETE TRILOGY, COMPENDIUM OF THE HEART: An epic love story

by RJ Hunter

  "If you're another reporter, I'm warning you now - I'll set the dogs on you. What do you want?"

  Pauline was taken aback by the coldness of the woman standing in front of her, and was puzzled to be mistaken for a reporter.

  "I've come to see Frank. My name's Pauline. I'm from the university. He may have mentioned me?"

  The woman narrowed her eyes and studied the young female suspiciously.

  "No he didn't mention you, and besides, he's not here. What's your business with him anyway?"

  As Pauline looked closer, she noticed the woman had similar features to Frank, and assumed she was his mother. However, despite the woman's hostility, she was clearly distressed and looked like she didn't want to be disturbed.

  "But he should be expecting me. I'm his girlfriend!" Replied Pauline, shocked by her own dishonesty.

  The woman's jaw dropped in surprise, and she found herself inviting the visitor into the house.

  Although reasonably well-dressed, Pauline felt distinctly scruffy and cheap as she sunk down into the soft, creaky leather settee.

  Mrs. Irene Gant, to get over the shock of what she's just heard, went over to the cocktail cabinet and poured herself a glass of sherry. Pauline guessed she had poured herself quite a few in the past, judging by the woman's trembling hands.

  The drawing room was large and airy, with an impressive collection of deadly-looking swords and shields from the middle ages adorning two of the walls. High up on the back wall, rifles and bayonets from later conflicts were exhibited in long, neat rows. These were mounted above a massive, gothic-style fireplace, that looked like it was made out of marble, and was the main focal point of the room. At each end, stood tall, potted plants, which helped soften the room somewhat, and added a much-needed feminine touch.

  Irene, continued to scrutinize her guest in great detail.

  "I wouldn't have thought you'd be Frank's type. He usually goes for blondes, you know - the more extrovert type. How long did you say you've been seeing him for?" She asked, before adding; "I'm sorry, I seem to have forgotten your name."

  Pauline cleared her throat, before going on to tell further lies about her relationship with Frank.

  "It's Pauline, Mrs. Gant. Well, you could say we've been close since October - that's when I first saw Frank at Falcondale."

  Irene's limited response was to stroke an overweight Persian cat that had suddenly appeared by her side.

  "So tell me, what do you know about all this dreadful business that's been going on, Pauline - are you involved too?"

  "I don't quite follow you Mrs. Gant," replied Pauline sheepishly. "I've come to see Frank. Look, I've brought his suit jacket with me. He left it behind when we were out, having dinner. Will he be back soon?"

  "You mean to tell me you don't know where he is!" Barked Irene angrily, causing the cat to leap in fear. "Either you're taking me for a fool young lady, or you're bloody naive. He's in jail! There's been enough reporters around here for the whole world to know." Irene got up abruptly and stormed off back to the cocktail cabinet.

  There was a brief silence, until Pauline dared ask; "What's happened, why is he in jail?"

  Irene turned and inhaled sharply, before lighting a cigarette.

  "We had a call from the police, last weekend. He was arrested for attempted murder, breaking and entering, possession of a knife, rape - you bloody well name it, and there's more."

  "I can't believe it - Frank would never do those things." Replied Pauline, acting innocent.

  "They had to take him to hospital first, he'd been badly beaten up by local thugs. They must have slashed his face too - he has a terrible wound. The police then searched his room and found money, I mean lots of money, nearly £5000. Worst still, it was in a post office bag, and apparently the small sub post office in Falcondale had been robbed of a similar amount."

  "Yes, I heard about the robbery, and the woman who ran the post office died of a heart attack, but I don't think she was at the scene." Replied Pauline, relieved that Irene wasn't aware that she had in fact slashed her son's face.

  "It's dreadful. I know Frank can be bad at times, but not this?"

  "I'm sure he didn't do any of it, Mrs. Gant. I expect we'll know the truth soon enough"

  "The police came here and searched his room, they found drugs - you know that dope they all smoke these days. Drugs! In our house! Then they were asking about the robbery and this poor girl he's supposed to have attacked." Irene sat down heavily and took a large mouthful of the whisky she had now poured.

  Pauline was shocked, but offered a morsel of hope.

  "It's alright, Mrs. Gant - it was me. I'm the girl Frank was supposed to have attacked. We just had too much to drink, it was all a misunderstanding that's all. I haven't said anything to the police. They wont be able to do anything if I don't press charges."

  Irene went pale and glared at Pauline, before demanding she tell her the whole story. Pauline then drew in a deep breath and began to relate the events at the hotel the week earlier. As she did so, Irene listened intently, never taking her eyes off the younger woman until she had finished. "When did you say you started at the university, Pauline?"

  "Last October, Mrs. Gant. But why?"

  "The attack on this other girl was before then, long before. No Pauline, you're wrong. Someone else has gone to the police."

  Pauline, realising the implications, tried to be helpful.

  "Surely Frank could fight it. He might even be able to get bail, and with a good solicitor, he..."

  Irene rudely interrupted; "Listen, my husband is a respected surgeon, and is very well known around here. Mr. Gant sits on all sorts of committee's, do you realise that he's trying to be elected as a local Conservative Member of Parliament. Now all this adverse publicity will ruin him."

  "But Frank might be innocent!" Exclaimed Pauline, naively.

  "Yes, and pigs might fly!" Snapped Irene. "My husband was about to find the best lawyer money could buy, until he heard from the university that Frank had been expelled. He has completely washed his hands of him now. Mr. Gant wont stand bail for him, and wont even have him back in the house again. Frank has brought nothing but shame on this family, and to be perfectly honest, young lady, I don't think you're entirely blameless yourself. Now get out of my house."

  As Pauline got up to leave, she had one last trick up her sleeve.

  "I'm pregnant, Mrs. Gant, and Frank is the father."

  Irene's jaw dropped, and she glared at Pauline, willing herself not to believe it.

  "I've told you to get out of my house, you lying, manipulative creature."

  "I'm sorry you don't believe me, but you'll find out soon enough!" As Pauline was about to slam the front door behind her, Irene called her back.

  "One more thing, do you know anything about a necklace my son may have had?"

  Pauline felt her face redden, "No, Mrs. Gant. I don't. But why do you ask?"

  "I'm missing a very expensive Cartier necklace my husband brought for me on our twenty fifth wedding anniversary. I'm not saying Frank has taken it, but it just seems like too much of a coincidence. It has a single pearl, set in in an eagle's claw."

  "I'm sorry, I can't help you."

  Pauline was seething with anger by the time she reached the station. So it must have been Sally, or that weak-willed Karen who had gone to the police. She gritted her teeth, if she could love so intensely, then she could hate with an equal passion too.

  She was going to wait for Frank. Now that he had nobody, she would be needed. She was going to stand by him, no matter what the consequences were. She would wait, and be there for him when he finally came out. It was important that they stand together and be counted. They had each other, even though Frank wasn't to know that yet.

  She watched as the train approached, and thought back to how rude Irene had been to her. She then rubbed her belly, it was early days yet, but Pauline put it down to feminine intuition - Frank was going to be a father.

  William, de
spite using all his strength struggled with the heavy suitcase, as he cautiously navigated a route down the staircase at Lloyd-Evans Hall. When he finally reached the bottom, Lizzie was there to kindly open the main door for him.

  "I think that's everything," he said, somewhat relieved.

  "I'm not so sure!" Added Sally, as she followed him down laden with assorted carrier bags.

  Lizzie went over and helped her friend carry the bags out to Pamela's waiting car.

  "I'm glad we're using Pamela's car and not mine," remarked Lizzie, her mood brighter than of late. "At least now I'll be able to bring a lot more stuff down, if Pamela drives me back."

  "What sort of stuff?" Asked Sally.

  "Oh, there's lots of things really. There's my record collection, my sewing machine - I can make clothes you know! What else, oh yes, I have one of those sit-under hair dryers you can use for perms. We can have so much fun next term, Sally!" Exclaimed Lizzie, excitedly, before stopping to think. "I've forgotten my vanity case, and oh yes, I've got your Christmas present upstairs too."

  "Thanks for reminding me, I've got yours in my room." Called out Sally, as she followed her friend up the stairs once more.

  "What's wrong with William, he seems a bit grumpy?"

  "I really don't know," sighed Sally, "I'll ask him later, perhaps everything that's happened recently is taking its toll on him."

  Lizzie stopped, and put her small case down.

  "I think it's because you're going home for Christmas, and he'll miss you. That's what's wrong with your William!"

  "Do you really think so?" Replied Sally, before adding; "I might not go home. The snow's coming and Mr. Meredith has said that any students worried about travelling can stay here over Christmas."

  "Sally - you can't stay here over the holidays. It'll be so boring. No, I wont have it, you can come back with Pamela and myself."

  "I wouldn't dream of it, Lizzie. You've got a lot of things to talk over with your father when you get home. I'll be fine here. Besides, I think staying on campus will be a hundred times better than going home to my parents."

  "I'm sorry to hear that. But it's your decision, and if you change your mind, just ring me. I suppose you could always go and stay with William, since you've practically lived there for the last few days?"

  "Yes, I suppose I could," said Sally, a little guardedly.

  Lizzie burst out laughing, "You've got it all planned, haven't you, that's exactly what you're going to do isn't it? You scheming little mare!"

  "Okay, I admit it," giggled Sally, "But keep your voice down, or he'll hear you."

  "So, William is blissfully unaware that you're planning to spend Christmas with him? I would put him out of his misery ASAP, and then he might cheer up."

  "His parents are due to come over anytime, and I'm a bit worried about meeting them - you know, first impressions etc. Plus they'll find out about all that business with Frank, and the police. They'll think I'm a bad influence on William."

  "Nonsense, Sally, you are a warm, sensitive, and loving person. They will soon see that. Just tell the truth. Frank was the bad influence, not you."

  "Yes, you're right, Lizzie."

  "Sally, you know me, I'm always right!"

  There was a sudden sound of a car horn sounding, and the two women knew it would be Pamela, anxious to get going before they were snowed in.

  "See you next term Lizzie, I'll call you, Bye. Bye Pamela," called out Sally, sad to see her friend departing.

  "Bye, happy Christmas, bye, William - and you take good care of Sally, not like that Frank, otherwise you'll have me to contend with!"

  That was it, Lizzie had gone. Sally and William continued waving until the car was no longer in sight.

  "Come on, let's go to Pedro's for a coffee."

  "I had some in the cafe with Lizzie and Pamela. I saw you outside, why didn't you come in?" Asked Sally, intrigued.

  "Not likely," exclaimed William, "You should have seen the state of you three when you came out. It looked like you'd been to a wake!"

  Sally couldn't help laughing. "I'm so glad at the way it turned out for Lizzie. Come on then, let's go to Pedro's. I'll have a tea this time. Besides, there's something I want to ask you."

  "Is there? Nothing bad I hope. There's something I want to ask you too."

  "No, it's nothing bad, William. I'm curious to know what you want to ask me!"

  Falcondale had become a hive of activity, with departing students saying their goodbyes, and parents, concerned about the weather, clogging up the town's narrow roads with their cars. Added to this were the panic shoppers, and farmers busy ferrying their sheep and livestock around. However, for the moment, they only had light sleet to contend with.

  It was warm in Pedro's, and as Sally sat at a table, William ordered their drinks, along with a couple of fresh cream donuts he'd spied in the window.

  "You first," he said, taking a sip from his frothy coffee.

  Sally hesitated, as she thought about how to phrase what she was going to ask him.

  "Well, there's two things really," she said, pouring her tea into a floral-patterned cup and saucer. "Firstly, why have you been so down today, is it something I've said or done?"

  "No, of course not," came the rapid reply. "Being with you, makes me happy," he smiled, "But I had hoped you wouldn't have noticed."

  "William, I've been more intimate with you in the last week, than I have ever been with anyone before. Believe me, I noticed. So, what's bothering you? Perhaps, I can help."

  He glanced around the room, and fiddled with a teaspoon, before answering Sally's question.

  "Well, it's my parents. I got a telegram - they're not coming over this year."

  "Oh William, I'm so sorry. I didn't think to ask. Is it due to the weather?"

  He nodded, as he offered Sally one of the tasty-looking donuts.

  "Not to worry, David and I will be okay. We'll get plenty of logs in, and it can't be that hard to cook a turkey?"

  Sally took a bite of her donut, and squealed as the cream squirted out.

  William couldn't help laughing, and passed her a serviette.

  "So, what's the second thing, you wanted to ask me?"

  Sally got her composure back, and licking the cream from her lips, continued.

  "I don't want to go home for Christmas, William. I want to be with you. Now that your parents aren't coming, can I stay with you, and David?"

  William broke into a huge smile, and lent across to remove a bit of cream she had missed.

  "Sally, that's music to my ears, you've made my day. But what about your folks, wont they mind?"

  "They wouldn't even miss me. In fact, when I rang home yesterday, my father even suggested I remain here."

  "Maybe he's right. It's a big risk travelling at the moment. We had better go shopping. We'll need lots of things, lots of crumpets!"

  "You and your crumpets, William Peddlescoombe! We'll definitely need a turkey though, and all the trimmings."

  "Will you cook it for us, Sally?"

  "Yes, William, of course I will. Now, finish your donut, I want to see you make a fool of yourself like I did!"

  William grinned and did as he was told. "Yummy! This is absolutely delicious, and look - not a bit of it on my face!"

  With that, Sally, took the remainder of her donut and rubbed it into William's face.

  "There, that's for being too smart for your own good!"

  William quickly responded, and within seconds, both of them were covered in cream and strawberry jam.

  "Children! Children! please, I have other customers. Please behave yourselves!" Called over an irritated Pedro, from behind the counter.

  They made their apologies and offered to clear up the mess they had made, before walking back along the High Street again. William told Sally he kept a van in the garage back at home, which they could use for the shopping, and to bring a few things Sally might need from her room at Lloyd-Evans.

  "Do you think your parents w
ould mind me staying for Christmas?" She asked, putting up her umbrella.

  "No, of course not. They've rented the house out to students in the past, so that wouldn't be a problem. In fact, it was something related to that, what I wanted to ask you."

  They slowed their pace as they neared the Gate-Lodge. Several students were checking with the porters about the latest weather updates, and from where William and Sally were standing, it didn't sound good.

  "Look, there's David and Jenny, shall we call them over?"

  "Yes, in a moment," replied William, "Listen, Sally - I wanted to ask, if you fancied moving into the house permanently with David and I next term?"

  Sally was quite surprised at this, and didn't quite know how to answer.

  "I'm aware it's nearly 1963, William, but people will talk. I know I've been staying with you, but for us to live like husband and wife, well, we'd get kicked out of university."

  "You're right, but I've thought of that. We have a spare room, so you could keep all your things in there. It would be your room. Then you wouldn't have to pay accommodation fees to the university. Think of all the money you would save, Sally."

  "Gosh, that would be wonderful, so I would live there all official. But I would have to pay something?"

  "Only a bit towards food and costs. The house is all paid for. My parents wouldn't ask you for any money. Please say you will, Sally. We can go and get some of your stuff before Christmas!"

  "William! I don't know what to say. What about Lizzie?"

  "You'll still see her, Lloyd-Evans is only ten minutes walk away."

  "Okay, it's a deal - you've got a new housemate!"

  With that, William scooped Sally up in his arms and twisted her around until they were both dizzy. "We can celebrate tonight. We can get some wine, and ask Pedro to cook us something to take away. He does a fantastic paella!"

  David and Jenny then came over to enquire what all the excitement was about.

  "Sally's going to move in with us David, isn't it wonderful?"

  David glanced over towards Sally, and couldn't help smiling at her.

  "Really! What wonderful news. I can't wait. Welcome to the Peddlescoombe household, Sally!"