False Diamond--An Abbot Agency Mystery
Page 26
‘Yes, well … Actually –’ in a rush – ‘I’ve got a meeting tomorrow morning that I can’t get out of, and Leon’s in Brussels, something to do with taxation. The only thing Dilys has set her heart on … We don’t approve, but maybe it will help … She wants to revisit her old home. She imagines it as it was when she left, and she was distressed to hear that Ginevra had cleared out all the family’s belongings. I said you’d kept all the boys’ things and that you’d get them back to her. Perhaps, if she can pick out some mementoes and see the house as it is now, it will give her closure.’
Another little job for the hired help. ‘You’d like me to meet her there tomorrow with the children’s belongings?’
‘Ten o’clock suit you?’
‘Who’s got the keys?’
‘I’ll see that Dilys has some. Our maintenance people changed the locks. They’ve been keeping an eye on the place. There was a leak, a broken downpipe at the back. That’s been rectified and the whole house professionally cleaned. The furniture has been left there for the moment as we weren’t sure whether to let the house furnished or not. Dilys thinks we’ve cleaned up so that she can move back in. We keep telling her that she’s got other options, but she’s not listening. She wants Bernice to take a day off school and go with her.’ This was delivered in a flat, unemotional voice.
Tread carefully. ‘Bernice as well? Is that wise? Hasn’t the child suffered enough? Why remind her of the past?’
‘I am entirely in agreement with you, and Bernice doesn’t really want to go. I’ve told her to be brave and do it for her mother’s sake.’
‘In that case, shall I see if Maggie can come, too?’
A hesitation. ‘Perhaps. The child does seem to rely on her, doesn’t she?’
The next morning
A chilly wind. A spit of rain in the air.
Luckily, Bea found a parking space nearby. As they unloaded the plastic bags containing the children’s belongings from their car, they spotted a chauffeur-driven limousine some way down the street.
And there was Bernice standing in the front door of her old home, looking anxious. Bernice hadn’t wanted to come, had she? Poor child. She didn’t run to greet them but, when they met, clasped Maggie about the waist and buried her head in her coat. Maggie dropped the bags she’d been carrying to give the girl a hug.
Bea dragged the last of the bags inside and closed the front door, grateful that someone had thought to turn the heating on.
Bernice whispered something to Maggie and tugged her up the stairs.
Bea called out, ‘Hello? Dilys, it’s me, Mrs Abbot. I’ve got the children’s things.’
Dilys appeared in the doorway, a pale and thinner version of her former self. She’d had her hair cut in a becoming style and was wearing some pretty, warm clothing, but her eyes were unfocused. Bea wasn’t even sure that the girl recognized her. Perhaps she was on heavy medication?
Dilys stared at the black bags, but made no move to open them. It took Bea two trips to cart them through into the living room. Yes, it was nice and clean in here now. And soulless. Stripped of all personal effects.
‘Shall we have a look?’ suggested Bea, opening up the first bag and spreading out the contents on the floor. Dilys sat on a chair and watched but made no move to pick anything up.
Bea could hear Bernice murmuring to Maggie upstairs and an exclamation from the older girl.
A seagull screeched.
Bea dropped the bag she was holding. ‘What was that?’
A scamper down the stairs. Bernice, wailing, ‘Mummy, the house is screaming!’
Maggie appeared behind the child, puzzled, amused. ‘No, Bernice. Really!’
Dilys managed to focus on her daughter. ‘Silly Bunny! Imagining things.’
Bernice’s eyes were wild. ‘Can’t you hear it? We’ve got to go!’
‘Silly Bunny,’ said Dilys. ‘That’s what Daddy used to say, wasn’t it? “Silly Bunny had a bad dream.”’
Bea began to understand what was going on. She knelt by Bernice and caught her hands in both of hers. ‘Bernice, where did you hear the screams?’
‘In my room!’
‘Were they in the walls, or in the air? Were they an echo in your head?’
The child thought about it. Nodded.
‘You can hear yourself screaming?’
Dilys frowned. ‘I always told her not to scream. It only made him worse. She never did. She never made a noise.’
‘She couldn’t scream out loud, so she made the noise inside her head. Is that right, Bernice?’
The child nodded. ‘Inside my head. Inside Mummy’s head, too, because she mustn’t scream, either.’
Maggie wept. ‘Oh, you poor things!’
Bea’s own eyes filled with tears, but she realized how crucial it was to say and do the right thing. Dilys was poised between the past and the future and could tip either way. Bernice was the key to her mother’s future well-being.
‘Bernice, you are a little soldier. You saved your mother’s life. Yes, she did, Dilys. Perhaps they haven’t told you about it, but if it hadn’t been for her you would have died, and neither of you would be looking forward to tomorrow.’
Dilys said, ‘We need to get back to normal. Bernice must return to her old school—’
‘Bernice has moved on. She has a new school now, and a loving family. The only thing she doesn’t have is a loving mother.’
Dilys’s face twisted. ‘You don’t understand. How can I think of anything but my lovely lost boys?’
‘And your lovely lost girl? Who saved your life and who can still hear your screams?’
Dilys turned her head aside. ‘How dare you!’ Yet there was no heat in her protest.
‘Do you want to lose her, too?’
‘Don’t be ridiculous! How could I lose her?’
‘Very easily, the way you’re going. Listen to me, Dilys. Children need to be loved. If they don’t get that love from their parents, they’ll get it elsewhere. From a great aunt or uncle. From Maggie. At the moment it seems to me that they all love her more than you do.’
‘That’s ridiculous!’ She turned Bernice’s face towards her. ‘You love me, don’t you, Bunny?’
‘Of course I do, Mummy,’ said Bernice, ‘though I do wish you’d call me by my proper name, as Maggie does.’
Flecks of red appeared in Dilys’s cheeks. ‘Maggie, indeed! Come on, poppet, let’s pick some things out of the bags to take home with us. We don’t need Maggie or Mrs Abbot to tell us what to think, do we?’
Half an hour later, Bea and Maggie waved the chauffeur-driven car off and allowed themselves to relax. Maggie got into Bea’s car and did up her seat belt, but kept her face averted.
Bea said, ‘You think I betrayed you to Dilys? I didn’t. That child will love you to the day you die, and you will soon have a child of your own to love. If Dilys thinks Bernice might love you more than her, then she’ll value her more highly.’
‘Yes. I know. I need chocolate.’
‘Do you want hot chocolate, Dairy Milk, seventy per cent cocoa chocolate, or something made with powder in a plastic cup?’
‘I could eat a whole bar of Fruit and Nut, but I’ll settle for hot chocolate, properly made, with whipped cream on top. With a chocolate Flake in it.’
‘For medicinal purposes, of course.’
‘And a bacon sandwich. No lettuce or tomato.’
‘God bless your tum. Now, where’s the nearest good coffee shop?’
NINETEEN
Seven days later, Bea received not a food hamper nor flowers but a letter from Holland Enterprises (UK) stating that they were looking for an executive to fill the post of managing director at Holland Training College, salary so much with bonuses, accommodation provided. The successful applicant to be interviewed shortly. The letter was signed by Leon, who had scrawled at the bottom, ‘Will you find me someone?’
She leaned back in her chair, smiling. So he’d accepted her decision not to get involved with H & B
? Good. And yet. She had to admit to being a trifle disappointed. It had been … intriguing … to be offered more power, more money.
But, no. She knew her limitations.
Someone to run H & B for him? A name leaped into her mind. Anna was the events manager for a charity who had used the services of the Abbot Agency for many years. Anna could have run the Home Office if she’d been inclined to go into the Civil Service, but a career break for family reasons had hampered her rise in the world, and she’d reached a glass ceiling where she was.
Would she want the job? Bea referred back to the letter. Accommodation offered. That might mean a house move for the applicant or, if Anna didn’t want to move, a not too difficult commute. The salary was attractive. Bonuses, too? Good.
Bea raised her hand to the phone to sound Anna out and dropped it again.
If Anna did take the job and Leon recognized her excellent qualities, would he also want to take her into his personal life? Propinquity, and all that, leading to a relationship?
How old exactly was Anna? Early forties. She’d been married once, had a couple of teenaged children. Was she still young enough to give Leon a baby?
Bea scolded herself. Did she have any right to influence such matters? Probably not. Definitely not.
It still took her an hour before she lifted the phone.
A week later – a whole seven days without hearing from Leon – she received a cheque in the post marked ‘For Services Rendered’, as Anna’s application for the post had been successful. She would commute, starting at the beginning of the following month.
With the cheque from Leon came the usual invitation. Would she dine with him that night? Place and time to suit herself. He would send the car for her, and his chauffeur would take her home at whatever time suited her.
So he wasn’t planning to jump her again? Mm. Oh well. Why not? She supposed he might already be wining and dining Anna, who was so much younger and more, well, eligible. This invitation was probably just by way of saying ‘thank you’ to Bea. Nice to have known you.
Well, it might be pleasant to meet him again.
With some hesitation, she said, Yes.
She chose a brand-new pale-green and silver outfit to wear and, with her evening coat thrown around her shoulders, was whisked away in Leon’s car to a new and pricey restaurant. One she hadn’t visited before.
Leon was waiting for her. He held both her hands in his but didn’t try to kiss her. ‘My behaviour last time … It’s a wonder you’re prepared to meet me again.’
She found herself smiling. ‘Water under the bridge.’
There was a new air of certainty about him. He looked … more solid? … less hesitant? … than before.
She declined an aperitif, and they were shown to their table straightaway. The tables were not set close together, and the menu had been curtailed to A4 size. Two points in the restaurant’s favour. He waited for her to choose what she wanted to eat. A point in his favour. CJ always wanted to tell her what she would like to have. White wine, or red? She noted that he had no need to push his own importance.
Unlike Max. Ah well, at least he and Nicole seemed to have accepted one another’s limitations and were getting on better now.
Leon said, ‘You’ve heard that I’ve taken over the UK end of Holland Holdings?’
‘Wasn’t it a foregone conclusion?’
He shook his head. ‘I never wanted power. It amused me to think that I could help them out of trouble after their earlier rejection of me, but I had no intention of committing myself to the job. Gradually, I came to see that I’d been given an opportunity to make a difference, and that I did have some of the right skills for the job. I’ve been inviting the managing directors of each of the companies to meet me, to discuss the future. Already, I’m beginning to see where certain procedures could be tightened up, more emphasis placed on … well, on fair trade and honest dealing.’ He laughed. ‘Now there’s a phrase that’s frightening the life out of them!’
Bea applauded. ‘Good for you.’
He sobered. ‘There’s no guarantee that I’ll succeed, but there is a cold wind blowing about the ankles of those who cut corners and increase their wealth at the expense of the people they’re supposed to serve. Perhaps I have a chance.’
‘With all my heart, I hope you succeed.’
He raised his glass in a toast. ‘I trust your judgement implicitly. Which brings me to another favour I need to ask of you. An even bigger one. I would like us to be friends. I know that I need your company and advice far more than you need mine. But there it is: I’m asking.’
She narrowed her eyes at him. ‘You need a trophy woman to hang on your arm at functions. There must be hundreds of women who’d jump at the chance.’ And what about Anna?
‘Fake blondes are crawling out of the woodwork. Career women are throwing themselves under my car wheels every time I drive out. If I’m asked to dine anywhere, there’ll be at least two beautiful babes vying for my attention. I need protection.’
‘Use an escort agency. Or look among your executives.’
‘You’ve taught me not to mix business with pleasure. And why should I when I could be enjoying the company of a wise and witty woman who knows how to behave?’
So he’d looked at Anna and decided not to go down that road?
Bea stared into the future, thinking that she could see where a friendship with this man might lead. She had plenty of friends in her life already, but it was a long time since her dear husband had died and left a void in her life. She’d become used to being on her own and bearing other people’s burdens, but it struck her now that life recently had become somewhat … grey.
‘You mean an occasional meal out, perhaps once a month?’
‘I mean you and me. Telling one another our joys and sorrows, knowing our secrets would be safe with one another. For a start, I’m invited to bring a partner to a Mansion House dinner. Would you care to accompany me? And that’s only one of the invitations on my desk.’
Her first thought was: what should she wear? Which meant she’d already decided to accept. ‘I’m too old for you. You must find a younger woman who will care for you, give you children.’
‘I know exactly how old you are. I am two years and one month younger than you. So what! Yes, it is possible that I may some day meet someone I can love enough to marry. I’ll bring her to you to vet, shall I?’
She had to laugh at that.
The future would be more colourful with him in her life, even if it were only for a few months. Yes, she might get hurt, but … live a little, Bea.
He lifted his glass in a toast to her.
She continued to smile, knowing that she was opening a door on to the future which might lead … anywhere.
‘Agreed,’ she said, and touched her glass to his.
Two days later
Bea put the phone down on a satisfied customer, and it rang again.
This time it was Inspector Durrell. ‘Are you cooking?’
Bea laughed. ‘At three in the afternoon? Try again when you’ve some good news for me.’
‘Oh, I have. We’ve arrested Ginevra, stopped her at Heathrow as she tried to leave for the Caribbean. She’d dyed her hair black but had made a poor job of replacing her passport photo with one to match her new appearance. She’s trying to make out she’s as innocent as a newborn, and that any money in her account in the Cayman Islands is repayment of a sum she’d lent Benton earlier. Oh, and she denies all involvement in the deaths of her husband and his children.’
‘You’ve got enough to hold her?’ Bea was alarmed at the thought of Ginevra getting off on a technicality.
‘There’s more than enough forensic evidence to send her for trial, plus statements from Clodagh and Ricky. Rest assured, she’s not getting away with it. So, when can I catch you in? I’ve told my wife about your toaster. She says I ought to get you a replacement, to make up for all the meals I’ve scrounged off you.’
‘Zander f
ixed the old toaster and bought us a new one, but it would be good to see you. I’m out this evening. Tomorrow do you?’
‘You can’t find me a small window today?’
‘You want something? The answer is “no”. I’m too busy.’
‘It’s only a little thing. Won’t take you half an hour to solve.’
‘No.’
‘I’ll be round in five minutes …’