by Tony Salter
‘Poor Fabiola,’ he said. ‘This must have all happened just before Uni. Right before we met. She must have been so lonely.’ He looked around the table as though he would find answers in our eyes. ‘Why did she never tell anyone?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Dad. ‘There was always something dark and sad hiding deep inside her. This must have been it. I always assumed it had something to do with Jax and you guys; she was never very forthcoming about any of that.’
‘That figures,’ said Daz. ‘You know what? Knowing this makes me feel that I started letting her down right at the start. She never had the lucky breaks, did she?’
‘Aren’t we missing something?’ I said.
‘Of course,’ said Daz. ‘We need to look at the positives. We’re not gonna change the past. You’ve got a sister now. There’s another little piece of Fabiola out there.’
‘Well, half sister,’ I said. ‘And we only have a dead guy’s word for any of this.’
‘It shouldn’t be hard to find out more,’ said Liz. ‘They won’t share adoption records, but your sister must be mid-thirties now. She’ll have a big social media footprint.’
‘Not as much as I expected,’ said my dad. ‘What I managed to find was very limited and didn’t tell me a lot. I’m not an expert, but it looks managed. She works for a company called Odell Services, some sort of political consultancy. Maybe they control their senior people’s profiles?’
‘Odell? That name rings a bell,’ said Daz. ‘Isn’t that the name of the place where Fabiola died?’
‘Yes,’ said my dad. ‘Weird isn’t it?’
‘Why not just pick up the phone to this Nicki?’ said Daz.
‘Firstly, she’s probably hearing about her father’s death right about now,’ I said. ‘It may not be the best time.’
‘All right,’ said Daz. ‘No need to be quite so sarky. Some of us are trying to catch up.’
‘And secondly,’ I continued. ‘What’s she going to say if I turn up with nothing but an email sent to my Dad? We’re basing everything on the fact that Dad believes Joe was telling the truth.’
‘Telling the truth, and frightened of something,’ said Dad.
Liz sat up straight like a meerkat. ‘You’re not suggesting ….?’
‘No. Of course not,’ said Dad. ‘I just believed him and, from what he implied, there’s more to this story than we know.’
‘There’s a fairly simple solution,’ said Liz after we’d proceeded to talk ourselves round and round in ever decreasing circles for half an hour. ‘We can’t do anything now – the poor woman’s just lost her father – so we use the next couple of weeks to find out more.’
‘How exactly?’ I said.
‘I know someone. Used to be a colleague and a good friend. She runs a small investigation agency. They’re not cheap, but they’re very good. Let her poke around discretely for ten days or so and see what she turns up. At least that way you’ll know a little more about Nicki before you get in touch.’
‘That sounds like a good idea,’ said my dad. ‘Liz’s friend can try and get to the bottom of Joe’s money situation as well. I thought that was strange.’
‘I’m not sure,’ I said. ‘Isn’t this all a bit creepy and intrusive? What will Nicki say when she finds out? Not a great start to a relationship.’
‘Why would she find out?’ said Liz.
‘Because I’ll tell her, for starters,’ I said. ‘I’m not going to lie to her.’ I looked around the table at the three scheming faces. Why couldn’t they see that poking around in Nicki’s life was wrong?
‘All right,’ said Daz. ‘We might be getting carried away here.’ He looked over to me. ‘The thing is, Sam … you’ve been in the press a lot recently and there are lots of dodgy people out there. This could be some sort of scam. We’re just trying to look out for you.’
‘I know,’ I said. ‘I just don’t want to do anything underhand.’
‘Neither do we,’ said my dad. ‘You know us better than that. How about we agree to limit the investigation to checking that Joe was telling the truth?’
‘OK,’ I said. ‘Then I’ll be able to tell her what we did, and why.’ I felt my niggling irritation fade as quickly as it had arrived. ‘Dad and I will meet up with Liz’s investigator, tell her what we know, and we’ll meet back here in a couple of weeks to discuss the results.’
Looking at the three people nodding their agreement in front of me, I saw my closest family and friends, people who would be there for me no matter what.
I couldn’t help imagining that, in a few weeks or months, there might be one more.
Revelations
Nicki looked terrible as she walked into the visiting room. I had arranged for us to be alone, but the guards had still insisted on a screen between us.
She slumped into the chair, arms crossed, looking more like a rebellious teenage goth than a thirty-eight-year-old CEO. I could see that her eyes were red and swollen.
‘Hi Nicki,’ I said, smiling. ‘I was sorry to hear about your father.’
‘Thank you,’ she mumbled into her lap, before lifting her head and staring at me with defiant eyes. ‘What the fuck’s going on Julie?’ She was almost shouting. ‘One minute you’re my boss, then you’re in prison for murder and now … now I don’t know what the hell you are.’
‘You read the letter then?’
‘Of course I read the bloody letter. I can’t say I understood half of it, but I read it a hundred times.’
‘It must be a hell of a lot to take in …’
‘No shit, Sherlock.’
‘Nicki!’ I snapped. There were limits. ‘I’m trying to be supportive here, but remember who you’re speaking to.’
I genuinely felt awash with sympathy as I watched her crumple back into her chair. ‘I’m sorry, Julie,’ she said. ‘I just don’t know what to believe any more. I’m still trying to get to grips with my dad dying. I knew he was ill, but he was supposed to have six months or more. He could be a plonker sometimes, but he was a good dad. He did his best.’
‘Of course he did. I know it’s tough, but don’t take it out on me. Did you cross check the timings?’
‘Of course. It all fits. Everything makes sense now, except for why no-one ever told me the truth – and how you come into it.’
‘I tried to explain that in the letter and, as for me, if you’d known your mother, you’d understand. Anybody who had Fabiola in their lives felt the same way, including your dad. She was wonderful, even when she was being a spoilt pain in the arse. Have you ever watched a small child stroking a lamb?’
Nicki nodded without speaking, her anger and confusion seemingly evaporated.
‘Everyone who was with Fabiola would have that look on their faces. Innocent, unquestioning adoration.’ I said, looking down at the floor. ‘Although she left me and broke my heart, I would still have done anything for her.’ I lifted my head and smiled at Nicki. ‘After she died, looking out for you and Sam was all I had left of her.’
She probably thought I was laying it on a bit thick, but it was all true. Looking around a room just after Fabiola walked in (or walked out for that matter), you’d see it on every face – eyes glazed, bottom lips hanging loose, every head pulling itself imperceptibly towards her. Fabiola had traipsed through her short life unconsciously dragging a trail of disciples behind her like tin cans on a wedding car.
Nicki wasn’t convinced. ‘It still doesn’t make sense. You helped fund my schooling and you’ve supported my career. I just about get that.’ She looked over her shoulder at the guard before whispering. ‘I know you’ve got enough money, so why not? I even think I understand why you changed your name and kept your past hidden from both of us.’ She leant forward, fingers splayed out on the metal shelf and nose almost pressed against the glass. ‘But you had an affair with Sam, who’s apparently now my half-brother. You actually slept with him. How does that fit with the whole godmother/mentor thing? … And then there’s all this business with
my mother’s phone and her suicide. Something stinks.’
Finally, we were getting to the nub. In my experience, truth was a fluid and slippery thing. By the time this conversation was over, Nicki needed to be convinced of my truth. Convinced in a way that no revelations of half-brothers or water-cooler scandals would shake. The difference between my truth and Sam’s truth was that I had been nurturing Nicki for a quarter of a century, and poor Sam hadn’t even met her yet.
‘OK,’ I said, smiling a young girl’s smile and lowering my eyes. ‘I couldn’t explain this in a letter. Apart from anything else, I feel so foolish. My relationship with Sam was clearly a mistake and I regret it now. I started off trying to help his career, just as I have been helping yours. It was totally professional and then … then it just happened. I could see how attracted he was to me and, trust me, as you get older, that feels pretty good. We’d been working late, had a glass of wine too many and …’ I continued to avoid her gaze and allowed the silence between us to swell and grow.
The shadows shifted on the steel counter as she pulled back from the glass and sank back into her chair with a sigh. ‘I guess it’s not the first time that sort of thing has happened,’ she said. ‘But still … it’s not right.’ Acceptance and understanding would do. I wasn’t expecting approval. But she wasn’t finished. ‘And anyway, that doesn’t explain what you did to his – I mean, our – mother.’
No room for playing the blushing ingénue here. She was on the back foot and needed to see her mentor and boss. ‘How long have you been working for Odell?’ I snapped.
‘Almost five years.’
‘… And you still believe everything you read or hear in the media?’
‘No, but …’
‘The basic explanation for that story is that it’s not true,’ I said. ‘None of it. As much as anyone can, I understand how deeply Fabiola’s death affected Sam – there’s always been something missing in his life – but I’ve never understood why he turned it into such a vendetta. It’s never added up.’
‘So you didn’t put spy software on Fabiola’s phone?’ Nicki said, her voice oozing sarcasm. ‘Sam just made all of that up?’
As I thought back to that time, it wasn’t difficult to fill my voice with sadness and tears. ‘No. He didn’t make it up.’ I took a deep breath before continuing. ‘I did install the software, but her husband did too. We were both worried about her. She became very fragile after Sam’s birth. The rest of it – the stories of persecution and manipulation – were all in Fabiola’s imagination, I’m afraid. There’s a reason why the police never investigated that story – there was nothing to it.’
‘I don’t buy it,’ said Nicki. ‘Why would Sam go to so much trouble to pursue you?’
‘Take a step back and open your eyes. Imagine you’re vetting a new client. What’s the first rule I taught you about modelling a politician’s behaviour?’
‘Forget the noise. Follow the money.’
‘Exactly,’ I said. ‘… Exactly.’ I leant forward and lowered my voice. ‘And that’s what you need to do now. I’ve been successful because I’ve always kept tight, tight control on my strategy and plans. That’s how I managed to keep one step ahead of the competition. I’ve only let my guard down twice – once with Sam and once with Dave Bukowski. I shared my vision with them and look at what happened. Dave’s now a billionaire and Sam’s not far behind.’
Nicki’s eyes widened, her lips forming a perfect “O”. ‘Are you saying that the two of them manufactured those accusations to destroy your reputation and take Pulsar from you?’
‘Not exactly – it’s much more complicated than that. But I am saying that you should do your homework before you make assumptions. And they didn’t just take Pulsar from me. They took it from both of us.’
‘What?’
‘Wake up, Nicki. Who else would be my successor? … Who?’
I had waited a long time to drop that bombshell, and could tell from her blank expression that everything she had previously imagined about her life and her future had been vaporised, wiped out by a few, simple words. It would take a while for greed and resentment to seep in to fill the space, but they would.
‘You’ll still have Odell,’ I continued. ‘But you were supposed to have so much more.’
I looked at the still figure in front of me and was surprised by my sudden urge to give her a hug. I didn’t do hugs – ever – but Nicki looked so confused and alone.
‘Nicki,’ I said. ‘I know you’re still in shock about your dad … And this is the last thing you need to be dealing with. Go home and rest. Look after yourself for a few days, grieve for your loss, and we can pick this up another time. OK?’
She nodded and stood up.
‘One last thing,’ I said. ‘I’d place a big bet that your dad contacted Rupert or Sam before he died. They’ll be looking for you now. When you hear from them, promise me you’ll come and see me.’
‘All right. I’ll do that.’
‘Before you meet them.’
‘Yes.’
One In – One Out
Life often seems like one of those complicated Scottish dances where people spin round, dip between arches of raised arms, twirl behind a back or two and end up hand-in-hand with a new partner. One in, another out.
I had started to believe that I might be gaining a sister but, before I’d even met her, I found myself needing to consider the possibility that I might lose my last remaining grandparent. Granny had been rushed into hospital and, although the consultants were still waiting for the biopsy results, the prognosis didn’t look good.
‘She’ll be all right, Dad. It’s Granny. She’s the toughest.’
‘I’m not sure this time,’ he said, sadness creeping into his voice. ‘I saw her yesterday, and she was different. As though she’d shrunk – withered into herself. The doctors didn’t say much to make me feel better.’
I realised I was holding the phone away from my ear. In a futile attempt to dilute his words?
‘Can I see her?’ I said. ‘I could come up for a few hours tomorrow.’
‘Leave it until the weekend. She’ll be back home on Friday and I know she’d rather be in her own space. Hospitals are such awful places.’
‘OK. I’ll come up on Saturday morning, first thing.’
‘Great,’ he said. ‘… And for now, don’t worry too much about your granny. We’ll know more in a few days.’
‘I’ll try,’ I said, noticing how empty most words of comfort tended to be.
‘What about that private investigator lady?’ he said. ‘How did it go? Sorry I couldn’t be there, but now you know why.’
‘That was actually why I called,’ I said. ‘I know you’ve got a lot on your plate, but I was going to ask if you could write to Nicki sooner rather than later.’
‘I thought we agreed to wait?’
‘We did, but Liz’s PI friend is still on holiday and her assistant said the earliest we’d have any feedback is in three or four weeks, at best. I’m actually thinking of not bothering with the whole investigator thing.’
‘That’s a bore,’ he said, ‘but go and see her, anyway. Even if you meet Nicki before you hear from Liz’s friend, it’s still worth making sure.’
‘All right,’ I said. ‘Anyway, it’s been ten days since Nicki’s father’s funeral and I think we should contact her before she stumbles across a copy of the email Joe sent you … or something else which mentions Mum or me.’
‘Why don’t you just call her? It’s you she’ll want to meet.’
‘I guess for the same reasons Joe contacted you first, rather than me. You can act as a buffer … it’ll give her a chance to go through her thoughts and feelings ahead of time. I know I’d prefer that.’
‘Yeah. There’s some sort of logic there, I suppose. Leave it with me. I’ll use Joe’s address. I’m sure that’ll get to her.’
Iona Stevens was Liz’s investigator friend, and she wasn’t a lady to be messed with. That wa
s clear the moment I walked into her office; the woman was a pocket-sized bundle of sharp angles and nervous energy, not more than five foot tall, cropped black hair and bossy as they come. Without Dad to add a bit of moral support and gravitas, we passed a frosty first five minutes. I was half-expecting her to tell me to leave and stop wasting her time – in fact, I’d have taken bets she’d have done exactly that if Liz hadn’t been calling in a favour from the past.
The conversation eventually settled down and become more relaxed, but there was never any question about who called the shots. When it came to the actual nitty gritty, and I handed her the details I had, a look of weary despair washed over her face. It was the kind of look I hadn’t seen since I was a school kid and Mrs Hibbert was handing me back a particularly poor Religious Studies essay.
‘So this is it?’ she said, leaning forward and waving the single sheet of A4 paper in front of my nose. ‘An email from her deceased father to your father, a reference to a sordid scandal from forty years ago, her name and her father’s address? That’s what I have to go on?’
I shrunk back in my chair. She may have been tiny, but she was very frightening. ‘I’m sorry. That’s it,’ I said. ‘That’s why we wanted your help. We don’t want you to dig too deeply, nothing intrusive. We just want to know that it isn’t some sort of scam.’
Her world-weary shrug and rolling of eyes looked well practised.
‘… Oh. And there’s the stuff my dad discovered about her father’s house and the offshore company …’
She nodded and shrugged her shoulders.
‘… And that’s it really …’
The silence grew uncomfortable before she unrolled her paper sword, straightened out the fold and stood up.
‘OK. Thank you Mr Blackwell. I’ll see what I can find out.’ She gestured towards the door. ‘My assistant will have explained our fee structure?’
‘Yes. Thank you,’ I said.
‘… I’ll have something for you in three weeks,’ she said, as I made my escape. ‘Not before.’