Double Cheque

by Heather MacQuarrie

  Alastair was now sitting beside her on the sofa, his arm around her, his head resting against hers, his voice soothing in her ear. “We should tell them,” he whispered. “They’ll all understand. Life goes on.”

  “Everything all right?” quizzed Bradley, emerging from the kitchen and picking up on the atmosphere.

  “Jasmine’s just feeling a bit fragile,” Jillian answered. “Molly’s death is still very raw for her, for all of us. It’s only been three or four months.”

  “I just feel so guilty about having any sense of happiness,” Jasmine sniffed.

  “Well, that’s the last thing she would have wanted,” Grant put in. “The best way you can honour your sister’s memory is by getting on with your life and making every day count. I should know.” They all expressed their agreement.

  “Best thing you could do is have your own baby,” Imogen trilled. “Bring a new life into the world. It’s such a wonderful feeling.” She gazed lovingly at little Victoria as she spoke and planted a gentle kiss on her forehead.

  “Would that not seem as though we were trying to replace her,” Jasmine interjected, wiping her eyes and giving Alastair’s hand a squeeze.

  Knowing glances were suddenly exchanged all round. It was Bradley who spoke. “Have you something to tell us all, Alastair?”

  “Maybe,” his friend grinned, looking at Jasmine for permission. She hesitated and then gave him a nod and a watery smile.

  “I’m pregnant,” she confirmed.

  “Mum doesn’t even know yet,” Alastair then warned his cousin, “so don’t you go saying anything at home.”

  “We’ll have to tell them all soon,” said Jasmine. “My parents don’t know anything either. I’ve been afraid of their reaction. But you’ve made me feel so much better about it. Thanks everyone, especially you, Grant.”

  Grant smiled and whispered something to Bradley as the girls gushed their congratulations.

  “We’re not in any hurry, thanks,” Bradley retorted, brushing off the remark. “We’re happy enough with things as they are for the moment.”

  Jillian immediately concurred, guessing what Grant had said and explaining that they wanted to enjoy a few years of freedom before tying themselves down with a family. They had plans to travel and see a bit of the world.

  “Don’t leave it too long,” quipped Imogen. “We’ll both be thirty before the year is out.” Jillian and Imogen were the same age and had been best friends ever since going through school together.

  “No doubt Granny will be organising one of her famous parties,” said Alastair.

  “Wait till she hears about you!” Grant replied, laughing. He went over and shook his cousin by the hand.

  Bradley followed suit but didn’t stop with a handshake. He threw his arms around his friend and hugged him with genuine affection and delight. “Such wonderful news,” he enthused, “and so unexpected.”

  Jasmine understood the veiled comment at once. None of them had expected Alastair to lead a normal life. She remembered Maggie warning her off him, telling her that he was brain-damaged, that there were things he couldn’t do. And she recalled the nasty comments she had been witness to at the garden centre.

  “That’s all thanks to you, Brad.” It was Grant, voicing aloud what they were all thinking.

  No-one else spoke but they all knew what he meant. It was Bradley’s friendship over the years that had normalised Alastair when others had shunned him. Grant himself had acknowledged this almost a year ago when he had finally let go of his childhood jealousy and had accepted Bradley as a real friend.

  “I only meant that it was unexpected now, so soon,” Bradley retorted, embarrassed, “not that it wouldn’t happen eventually.”

  Alastair bristled. “Would you all stop talking about me as though I was some kind of freak,” he blurted out indignantly, annoyed at the inference. “I didn’t need Bradley or anyone else to show me how to make babies!”

  Both men were taken aback and muttered an apology whilst Alastair took a deep breath and tried to regain his cool. And suddenly there was another knock at the door.

  “More visitors,” trilled Jillian. “I should have organised a party!” She went out to welcome the newcomers and then led them into the room.

  Jasmine stiffened when she realised who had arrived as Maggie and Lawrence materialised in front of her. She hadn’t seen her friend since the disastrous scene in the restaurant five months ago when Greta and Thomasina had come face to face.

  “Oh, sorry,” Maggie gulped, as she caught sight of Jasmine on the sofa. “I don’t want to be rude but I didn’t expect you to be here. We just tiptoed past your flat hoping you wouldn’t spot us.” She averted her gaze from Alastair, embarrassed.

  “Look, Imogen’s here with the baby,” Jillian gushed, hoping to avoid any unpleasantness. But Maggie continued to look directly at her erstwhile friend as though she hadn’t even heard. Instinctively the others all began to back away into the kitchen. Even Lawrence followed them in.

  “You don’t need to feel that you’re treading on eggshells around us,” Jasmine said with a lump in her throat. “You don’t have to tiptoe past my flat.”

  “I’m so sorry about your sister,” Maggie uttered.

  “I got your card,” Jasmine answered with a nod. “I kept hoping you might call.”

  “I didn’t think I’d be welcome.” She was aware of Alastair’s quickening breath and forced herself to look at him at last. “I can’t expect you ever to forgive me.”

  “There’s nothing to forgive,” he told her. “It was never your fault.”

  “I can understand why you didn’t tell us,” added Jasmine. “It was an awkward situation.”

  “But you never phoned or texted. I was afraid to approach you. He was my father. The association will always be there, in the background.”

  Jasmine squeezed up closer to her boyfriend and patted the sofa, indicating that Maggie should sit down with them. “I didn’t know how to break the ice either,” she admitted. “And then Molly died. And everything changed.”

  “Sam told us your mother has come back home. Do you think she’ll stay?”

  “Probably not. She only came home to support Dad and help with the arrangements but her life is in Scotland now with that man, McKendrick.”

  “Are you going to tell Maggie our news?” Alastair asked, his breathing back on an even keel.

  “We’re expecting a baby,” Jasmine divulged with a smile.

  “No!”

  “Yes!”

  “Well congratulations!” Maggie gave her a warm hug. “That’s brilliant news.” Then she added, “Can we really be friends again?”

  “I hope so.”

  Maggie looked at Alastair for confirmation.

  “Maybe our mums will even be friends some day,” he mused. “I’m glad you called in here this morning. Jasmine has missed you.”

  The sound of laughter was now filtering through from the kitchen. “She’s already a potential heiress,” Imogen was saying with a giggle, “and Grant’s Uncle Scott is away back to Canada in disgust.”

  “I’m so glad that I’ve got to know them all,” Grant added. “To think that I rejected him at first and burnt that letter.”

  Jasmine smiled to herself. A lot of good things had come from that overheard phone call almost a year ago. “Come and see Victoria Esme,” she said, standing up and beckoning to Maggie as Alastair led them both towards the merry throng in the kitchen.

  “Ah,” cried Grant with a modicum of glee, as he saw them approaching and trying to make up for his earlier comment which had enraged his cousin. “The very man. It’s never too soon to start practising. Come and help me change this nappy.”

  Chapter 27

  Patricia smiled as she waved goodbye to Tania and Stevie after a fun afternoon in the garden. In spite of the inauspici
ous start to their relationship, she had become very fond of Sam’s fiancée and loved spending time with her grandson. How time flies, she thought to herself; Stevie would be two before Christmas. She began to tidy up the toys which were strewn around the grass and the remainder of the impromptu picnic they had enjoyed. Kenneth would soon be back from his round of golf with Sam. Jasmine and Alastair were coming for tea. Everything seemed so normal.

  But, in reality, life was anything but normal. Molly’s ghost was everywhere, plaguing her with unanswered questions, blaming her for all that had gone wrong in the family. Douglas was becoming impatient about her not giving him a date for her return to Scotland. Kenneth was in denial that he was hiding a guilty secret. Patricia poured herself a glass of wine and sat down on the wooden bench under the rowan tree to enjoy the late afternoon sunshine. She had never seen such an abundance of orangey-red berries in previous years; it was quite a magnificent display. Her gaze landed next on the cluster of terracotta pots on the patio, sporting a colourful array of petunias, antirrhinums and cosmos, then on the flowerbed full of pink and purple fuchsias and bright yellow sunflowers. So much beauty around her but so much sadness in her heart. She closed her eyes and drifted into a gentle sleep.

  ***

  “Ask her to stay, Dad, before it’s too late.”

  “I can’t, Son. We had an agreement.”

  Patricia heard the muffled voices coming from the kitchen. She was still sitting on the garden bench. Checking her watch, she pretended to sleep on and listened.

  “Well I don’t understand your agreement. You want her here and she clearly wants to be here. You’re still married.”

  “I don’t expect you to understand.”

  “So you’re just going to let her walk away again? Back into the arms of that bastard?”

  “She loves him. She’s only here because of Molly.”

  “I don’t think so. She told Jaz that she made a mistake.”

  “I couldn’t have coped without her. Thank God she was here, especially when Molly’s body was recovered. And the funeral. We were all there for each other though I still don’t know how we managed to get through it. But Jasmine’s got the wrong end of the stick about your mum. This has all been for Molly. She’ll be gone again soon.”

  “No, Dad, open your eyes. She doesn’t want to go back. She spoke to Jaz before this all happened. Do you remember? Jaz went over to visit Mum in hospital. They were together when the news about Molly came through. The first message. The one that said she was missing.”

  “And she’d already told your sister that she wanted to come home?”

  “Yes.”

  “I don’t believe you. She wanted her freedom and I granted her that wish.”

  “And what did she give you in return?”

  “What do you mean?”

  A lengthy silence ensued. Patricia held her breath, waiting for Sam’s answer. Surely he could not have discovered any inkling of the truth. She was still horrified by what Kenneth had done but also ashamed of the emotional blackmail she herself had deployed against him. The manner in which they had used one another was so abhorrent to her now, so regrettable. What had happened to the happy couple they used to be when they loved and respected one another? When she heard her son speaking again she had to strain her ears to pick up what he was saying.

  “I don’t really know what I mean. Jaz and I have just wondered why you accepted the situation so lightly and agreed to everything on her terms. After all, it was Mum’s fault in the first place.”

  “Not entirely.”

  “Dad, it doesn’t really matter now. The crux of the matter is this. She wants to stay here with you. Can you not forgive her and let that happen?”

  Patricia now got up from her bench and headed towards the hushed voices.

  “Hello, you two,” she said cheerily. “I must have dropped off for a moment. I didn’t realise you were back.”

  Sam smiled at his mother. Kenneth scowled and indicated the back door, lying wide open.

  “We could have been burgled,” he chastised her, but in a semi-jocular manner. “You’ve been asleep for at least half an hour.”

  “Sorry, my eyes just grew so heavy, sitting there in the sun.”

  “Never mind. There’s no harm done.” He turned to Sam. “Thanks for the game, Son. We should do it more often.”

  “I had a lovely afternoon with Tania and Stevie,” Patricia told them.

  “I know. She texted me,” Sam replied.

  “You young people are never without a phone in your hand,” Patricia retorted. But in truth she was pleased that Tania had not just been humouring her. She really must have enjoyed spending time together.

  Sam headed for his car, both parents automatically walking alongside him. Patricia gave him a wave as he drove off and then decided to take the bull by the horns. She turned towards her husband. “I wasn’t actually asleep all that time,” she confessed. “I heard the two of you talking.”

  Kenneth just looked at her and nodded, a sad expression on his face.

  “What Sam told you is true,” she continued, her heart in her mouth. “I did have that conversation with Jasmine in the hospital. Before we knew about Molly.”

  Kenneth let out a huge sigh. “If only we could turn the clock back,” he muttered.

  They ambled back round to the garden bench and sat down together, side by side. It was now in the shade but the air was still warm.

  “I never stopped loving you,” Patricia declared in a quiet, even voice. “I am so sorry for everything.”

  “But you still love him too?”

  “No, I don’t. It was an infatuation, an adventure. I was flattered and carried away with the excitement, the duplicity.”

  “Because you were bored with me.”

  “I was never bored with you, my darling. I loved our life together.”

  “But when it came to the crunch, you chose him.”

  Patricia sighed. “I was so confused that day. He appeared out of the blue at Grant Cartwright’s wedding reception and he seduced me. I had no idea that he was going to be there. And I thought that you didn’t really want me back, not properly, that you were just going through the motions with me to keep the police at bay.”

  Kenneth shuddered. “You can’t still love me, knowing what I’ve done.”

  “You only did it because of me.”

  “I only meant to give him a fright, to ward him off.”

  “You’ve never actually told me what happened.”

  “Only because I can’t bear to think about it. I do still love you, Patricia. I’m dreading the day that you return to him.”

  “Then ask me to stay.” It was a mere whisper.

  “Can you live with the guilt?”

  Patricia grabbed his hand and held it tightly in her own. Her heart was pounding in her chest. “I’ll never mention it again, Kenneth, whether I stay here or go back to Scotland. I know it was an accident and it would never have happened if I hadn’t driven you to it so it is my fault as much as yours. No-one else knows or suspects anything. We can put this behind us and move on. I love you, only you.”

  Kenneth looked her straight in the eye and smiled. “I’d like that,” he said simply. “I never stopped loving you either. I acted defensively out of jealousy and anger.”

  “So what do you want me to do?”

  “Stay.” He kissed her tenderly on the lips and enfolded her in his arms. “Please stay here where you belong and move back into our bedroom with me.”

  “Tonight?”

  “Yes, tonight.”

  Patricia felt a surge of happiness wash over her like a cooling breeze on a sweltering summer’s evening. She snuggled into her husband’s warm embrace, feeling the old, familiar sensation of his heart beating against hers, the most wonderful feeling in the world. Unbelievably
her greatest wish was being granted, her impossible dream coming true. She whispered lovingly into his ear.

  “I will never be unfaithful to you again. I promise you that. Just let me talk to Dougie one last time. I owe him that, a proper explanation.”

  “Yes, of course,” Kenneth agreed. “Do it now before Jasmine arrives.”

  They shared another kiss and then Patricia disappeared into the house to make the call.

  ***

  Jasmine was over the moon. Her parents were back together. Douglas McKendrick was history. Grant Cartwright was happily reunited with his biological father and his baby daughter, Victoria, was apparently heiress to a fortune. And she, herself, was looking forward to motherhood with the man of her dreams, someone she might never have met had she not acted upon the information she had gleaned from that overheard phone call in this very house. The one blip on the horizon was that her sister was dead, her beautiful, fun-loving sister who had lived life to the full and who had ironically died on a beautiful, sandy beach, caught up in a sudden tidal wave while she was having an innocent evening swim, and not whilst participating in one of the potentially hazardous activities she had undertaken during the previous months. Jasmine comforted herself in the knowledge that Molly’s final year had been a happy one, full of adventure. But she missed her dreadfully and the house seemed so empty without her.

  Emerging from the small downstairs bathroom and walking past that same coat-stand where she had concealed herself eleven months ago, Jasmine took a deep breath in preparation for the conversation ahead. Now that her friends knew about her pregnancy she figured that it was only fair to inform her parents before they stumbled on the news from someone else. She retook her place at the table and smiled nervously at Alastair. He reached for her hand and gave it a loving squeeze.

  “Are you feeling all right?” Patricia asked, a worried expression on her face. “You’ve been running to the toilet a lot recently. That’s twice since we started this meal.”

  “I’m fine, thanks.” Jasmine hesitated for a moment and then just blurted it out. “Apparently it’s normal when you’re pregnant.”