A Fitting Revenge

by CA Sole

  Mrs Potter was a round, matronly woman. Her eyes were red rimmed and she looked terrible when she opened the door to me. ‘Oh Mr Alastair,’ she cried, and promptly burst into tears while I was still standing on the step. I put my arm around her and drew her close. Her head only came up to my shoulder. She pulled out a little lace trimmed handkerchief, blew her nose and sniffed. Henry appeared in the hall looking just as grim. He came over and took Mrs Potter from me.

  ‘Terrible, terrible, Mr Alastair, sir. Why, why? He was such a good man.’ He was shaking his head in utter incomprehension.

  ‘Is, Henry,’ I answered, ‘is. He’s not dead and he may have a full recovery, but it will take a long time. Are you busy? I would like to talk to both of you. May we go to the kitchen, and I’m sure you’ll make us some tea, Mrs Potter?’

  ‘Of course, sir.’ She brightened a little, glad to have something to do.

  Seated at the kitchen table, we clasped mugs of tea, but none of us felt like the biscuits that Mrs Potter put out. It was interesting that she would serve me tea from a pot into cups in the living room, but we had mugs in the kitchen. It was always warm in there with the Aga going, and I shed my jacket.

  ‘I’d better tell you that I’m a suspect for this attack,’ I told them.

  ‘No, sir. Not you. You’re his very best mate, you’re like brothers you two. They’ve got that wrong, very wrong,’ Henry replied. Mrs Potter just sat there shaking her head in disbelief and muttered, ‘Very wrong.’

  ‘Well, I didn’t do it, just to reassure you, and I’m sure it will be cleared up in the end. Anyway, the reason I came is to find out how you’re getting along and to discuss the future. Mr Giles might not recover to a normal state for a long time, possibly a couple of years, and we need to think about that.’

  Mrs Potter gasped, and Henry shook his head again. He was hunched over the table and holding his mug in two hands as if trying to warm them.

  ‘While he does recover, he’s going to need a lot of looking after, and I want to know if you’ll be comfortable with a part in that process?’

  ‘Of course, Mr Alastair,’ Henry replied, and Mrs Potter repeated, ‘Of course, sir.’

  ‘But,’ Henry added, ‘Mrs Collins told us there was no need for us to stay on now that this “accident”, as she put it, had happened. She said that if he recovered then he would not need a house like this, and therefore she was going to sell it straight away and there would be no need for us to continue, and she did that this afternoon. He was only attacked this morning. Mr Alastair, neither of us can understand this. People don’t do things like this, not normal people. She gave us a month’s notice. This has been my home for over thirty years.’

  ‘Forty years I’ve had here,’ Mrs Potter added in support, ‘I still remember when young Giles was born.’

  My mind raced over the options, these two had been at the house long enough to have a moral right to at least pass an opinion on the future of it. ‘All right, Henry. I must admit that attitude is pretty unbelievable, but please don’t worry. Firstly, I’m sure that she’ll not be able to sack you just like that, there are laws about dismissal. Also, I’ll go and see Giles’ solicitor and discuss it with him. I’ll see if he can provide money to continue to pay you both a retainer until this is sorted out. If I had power of attorney over Giles’ estate I would do just that, but I don’t, and I wouldn’t get it under the present circumstances. If that’s not possible then I will loan you both some money to stay on, but it will only be the bare minimum, I’m afraid.’

  ‘That’s very good of you sir,’ Henry replied, ‘but, speaking for myself, I’ve money put away for a rainy day.’

  Mrs Potter followed him, ‘Very good of you, sir, but I won’t be relying on anyone else.’

  ‘The offer is there and won’t be withdrawn.’

  ‘I have to say Mr Alastair, sir,’ began Henry tentatively. He was speaking with his head bent over and staring into his mug. ‘I shouldn’t speak ill of people, but I never took to Mrs Collins at all. She was always offhand to us, rude sometimes, like we are beneath her. Seldom a “good morning”, never a good word.’

  ‘No, never a good word,’ Mrs Potter repeated, shaking her head.

  ‘You know what I say, Mr Alastair, I think she was born working class like us, but she’s made some money and she thinks that puts her above us now. And she was always fighting with Mr Giles. It was her that picked the fights, not him. He was far too forgiving. I don’t think she’s a nice person, sir. And to just turf us out after all these years without so much as a kind word ..... It’s not right, sir.’

  ‘Like Henry says, she’s no manners, never a good word. It’s not right.’

  ‘No, it’s not right, but we’ll sort it out. Fortunately you both have other homes to go to, but you still have a month here and I believe we’ll know what Giles’ future will be before that time is up.’

  I left them alone amid profuse thanks and good wishes, and drove slowly home. If there had been anything more which was necessary to endorse my already rock-bottom opinion of Sandra’s character, the last half hour had been it. An ever-present threat lurking in the background, she would be calculating and refining her next unexpected and appalling move for personal gain. So far, her reach had touched Giles, Mrs Potter, Henry and me; Juliet too, although that was my doing more than Sandra’s. Thank goodness Juliet had been up north over the past week. For a brief moment I wished she would stay out of harm’s way.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  ‘It’s that same man again about Collins,’ the ward sister said, apparently lowering the phone but failing to cover the mouthpiece, ‘Won’t you talk to him?’ There was some muffled exchange, then a doctor who was obviously harassed and did not want to take the time to talk to interfering friends of the injured took the phone. He was blunt, ‘Look Mr Forbes, I understand your concern, but Mr Collins is in an induced coma to lower the pressure in his brain. It may be many weeks before we can very slowly bring him out of it. In the meantime there is not going to be any quick or dramatic improvement. To be frank, and I’m sorry to have to put it like this, for you to call in so often when we know there will be no change is not only frustrating for you, but it is also disruptive for the staff here who need to get on with caring for a lot of very traumatised people.’

  That was a telling off. ‘Oh, I’m sorry,’ I replied, ‘I didn’t think, I’m worried. Stupid. Sorry.’

  Juliet came in the front door at that moment. She put her case down, hung up her jacket and came straight over to me. Her familiar black jeans and leather boots were topped by a deep green polo shirt. She never seemed able to get all the mud off those boots. I liked that in a way, it showed she was not concerned with fashion as much as with practicality. Without a word she put both her hands around my upper arm. Her head was close to my shoulder. The physical contact banished my anxiety over what attitude she might have, and I dropped my chin into the cool raindrops on her hair. She quickly dropped her hands, they had merely been a gesture of support, and stepped away. Nothing had changed.

  The doctor was still talking, and I held the phone off my ear so that Juliet could hear. ‘Never mind, Mr Forbes. If you will just give me your phone number, I’ll ensure that it’s put down as a primary contact in the event of a change; after his wife and the police, of course.’

  After the police. Of course, what else? ‘Are we able to visit him?’

  In the background we could hear another phone ringing and the bustle and voices of busy staff. ‘I understand from Inspector er......’

  ‘Carter.’

  ‘Carter, yes. ....in charge of the case, that visitors will be allowed when we think he’s stable enough, and only with his permission. There’s been an attempt on his life, so there’s a level of security regarding Mr Collins. In the meantime we are monitoring him continuously.’

  ‘I think Inspector Carter will allow me in,’ I said. ‘ May I just come to see him? I know he’ll be unconscious, but he’s more than a broth
er to me. I’ll stay outside the room if that’s necessary.’

  The doctor gave an audible sigh, ‘It will be necessary, but please wait until next week. You can ask Inspector Carter and he can let the ward sister know. Now, please excuse me I have patients.’ He put the phone down without waiting for my answer.

  Juliet’s voice was filled with anguish. ‘Poor Giles. Why? He’s such a lovely man! He’s good and kind and fun. Why would anyone do this?’

  There was no point in explaining, it was a rhetorical question to which she already knew the answer. At that point I was fretting because she had moved away. The pause in conversation dragged on. A bit late, she went back to the door and removed her boots.

  “I need to update you,’ I said, as much to keep a dialogue flowing as to the necessity for an explanation, ‘things have changed.’ I outlined the situation I was in as the prime suspect for the attack and why. ‘I’m afraid that you’re also involved. Giles rewrote his will and divided his estate into portions for the servants and the substantial remainder split between you and I. That has already raised questions from the police about our relationship and whether there might be collusion between us in the attempt on Giles’ life.’

  ‘God, what a mess,’ she commented, staring out of the window. She knelt down to Tina curled up in her basket and stroked the dog’s ears. ‘It’s all over your head, isn’t it? You lucky thing.’

  The following silence was tense; it wasn’t the comfort of two people in agreement maintaining their peace. Juliet was looking around the room. In the past I would have imagined she was surveying the things she liked and disliked and suggested how they should be changed. That interest was wasted now, she seemed to be thinking, it’s all gone, thrown away, discarded. Eventually, I summoned the courage to ask, ‘Jules, where do we stand? I need to know - now.’

  Her eyes were sad, but her tone hardened. ‘You have hurt me, Alastair. You’ve betrayed my trust in you. You had me miles high on a pinnacle of happiness, then you pushed me off. A mere week passes and you want my forgiveness?’ She was shaking her head slowly in bafflement. ‘Have you no sense of what you’ve done, of how I feel? If all you’re thinking about is your own misery and loss, then you have at last shown your true selfish nature, and we are finished.’

  I couldn’t meet her eyes, I had never seen her so upset. For a moment I really didn’t know what to say or do. Eventually, I stopped staring at my feet and looked up into her face. ‘Jules, I do understand what I’ve done to you. We’ve been so close that your feelings were my feelings too. It’s been your hurt that has stopped me sleeping, not mine. My mind has been in a turmoil as I’ve tried to think how to make it better for you, to regain what I’ve ripped apart. I’m sorry for asking you now, I didn’t think about the short time that’s passed. So much has happened in the last week that time has been distorted. It’s just that I’m desperate to see you happy and have you back again.

  ‘I can’t summon the words to express how stupid I was to get drunk and fall for that woman. The only argument I have is that it was pure lust, certainly there was no feeling there. I let you down and I have to live with the guilt of that for the rest of my life. It can’t be undone and it won’t go away. All I can say is that, if you let me back in your life it will never happen again. It’s just too painful for us both. Beyond endless repetitions of regret and “I’m sorry”, please tell me what I can do to regain your trust.’

  In the lengthy pause that followed I despaired of righting this wrong. It stifled my ability to breathe. I tried to prepare myself for the words she would use to end everything there was between us, everything we had spent in building what I had thought was an unbreakable partnership; and we hadn’t even had to put any effort into it, it had seemed as natural as an oak growing - big and strong.

  Her voice was softer, she sounded exhausted, and I wondered how much she had slept recently. ‘Right now Alastair, there’s nothing. I’m living in what feels like a capsule of shock that is floating around in space without direction. I feel isolated from the rest of the world, I’m numb and not thinking a full range of thoughts about anything, not even on how to escape from it. I’m staying with my sister. Mary says time will sort it out, and she’s probably right. I don’t know how long it’s going to be, but you know me, I will eventually be quite clear about what we’ll do. I can’t forgive you yet, and maybe not ever.’

  ‘You know I love you,’ I said. There was no point in trying to reinforce my position.

  She went on, oblivious to my words, ‘I came down here again for the two men who made my life so rich for a while, particularly for Giles who is the greater victim of all this. I felt so bad after I told him I was with you. It hurt him, I know, so I came here because I felt I had to give him support somehow, as well as to honour past loyalties. Now you tell me that I’m a beneficiary, so I have a more tangible reason to be involved. That’s why I’m here. Understand that.’

  The anger left her face and we stared miserably at each other across a great divide.

  The jangling ring of the telephone broke our mood. ‘Ullo, mate. It’s ‘Arry ‘ere. You got into that storeroom yet?’

  ‘Oh God! I’m sorry Harry, I haven’t tried. There’s been an accident and I’m a bit preoccupied at the moment, but I’ll go there right now and call you back. I did sort all my keys out, so here’s hoping. If I haven’t the key, I promise I’ll go and get another lock tomorrow.’

  ‘Orl right, but I really need to put my stuff in there as soon as possible.’

  ‘I’ll ring you back in fifteen minutes.’

  ‘Enough.’ Juliet stood up suddenly, ‘We’ve a job on our hands, and we have to put our heads together over what to do. What’s happened between us must not interfere with that.’

  ‘Come and see Harry’s cars, you’ll enjoy that.’ She was a country girl whose father had dragged her round shows and fairs exhibiting old machinery of various sorts: traction engines, steam engines and cars of which she had driven various odd specimens. Hopefully the cars would detract from her misery for a while.

  With an umbrella each and a yard separating us, we walked past the big barn with its joinery and its wonderful smells of freshly cut timber and from where we had a cheery wave from John Knott, the artisan. I unlocked the doors to the smaller barn and showed Juliet inside. ‘Oh wow!’ she exclaimed as she saw the MGs and, tucked into the back corner, the Series 1 Land Rover. ‘How fabulous!’

  I left Juliet inspecting them and went to the heavy steel door at the back of the barn. None of the keys fitted, and it would not be a simple job to get this door open without a cutting torch or bolt croppers.

  Harry Burbage answered the phone on the first ring from my mobile; I wanted to let him know well inside the fifteen minutes I’d promised, just to show I was better at my word than he was probably thinking. ‘I’ll go into town and get some bolt croppers and another lock tomorrow. Can we meet in the afternoon?’

  ‘Bout four?’ he suggested, ‘I’ve also got ‘fings to do, an’ it’ll give me time to get my stuff together and bring it over.’

  Back in the house, Juliet made tea while I explained how helpless I felt and couldn’t understand why the police hadn’t arrested me. ‘The trouble is, I have no way of knowing what’s going on. Carter won’t tell me anything, of course, and I have no idea how the police operate. It’s so frustrating, not being able to do anything and not knowing what progress the police are making. They might be here tonight and take me away, for all I know.’

  She rummaged through empty tins in the cupboard before pushing a cup of tea across the table to me. ‘You’ve no biscuits. We must get the papers and listen to the news at every opportunity. The police make statements to the media and that will be the only source of information available to us. Did the case get into this morning’s paper?’

  ‘I don’t know, I don’t normally read them, but you’re right, we will from now on. All I can think of is exacting revenge, making sure that Sandra and her brother are sho
wn to be guilty.

  ‘Giles kept saying how Sandra was always a step ahead, how she orchestrated arguments and set up situations to her advantage. She’s sure to employ the same tactics with us, and we have no idea what she’ll try next. Somehow we have to seize the initiative from her and have her responding to what we do, not the other way around.’

  Juliet was angry and frustrated too. I could see from her pursed lips and the intensity in her eyes that she was now on a mission. She desperately wanted to punish the culprits who had hurt her friend, but didn’t know how to. She was an incredibly positive person and usually had several ideas at once to solve a problem. She would come up with a daft one on the spur of the moment then settle into analysing a more sensible and practical solution.

  ‘We should send them a note, one of those ones made of newspaper cuttings stuck on a sheet of paper. Or better, I’ve a friend with an old typewriter. We could use that and they would never trace it to us.’

  I sighed inwardly, this was going to be one of her daft notions. ‘And say what? In any case, they would know it came from me. I’m the only other person who knows the truth, and it would just encourage Wiggins to more violence.’

  ‘The idea,’ she said, as if talking to an imbecile, ‘would be to spook them into making a mistake and bring them out into the open. We would then be confident that it was them and not some other bloody awful person.’ She perked up as her idea developed, ‘Aunt Alice could say she was watching birds up on the hill with her binoculars, when she saw him hit Giles with a club and then run away. She could say that she could identify him and would go to the police, but needs money for an operation or something, and he must give her, er..... fifty thousand by the end of the week, or something like that?’

  I played along, the last thing I wanted to do was destroy the partnership that would hopefully build through our cooperation. ‘Jules, what if they ignore the letter and bluff it out? We won’t be able to do anything because you can’t identify Wiggins in a line up, you’re biased, and in any case the police will find out you were never there but in Yorkshire at the time. And, what do we do if they fall for it and pay the blackmail? We need to have answers to both those questions before we decide on this or any other plan like it.