One Minute Later

by Susan Lewis

  ‘Ssh, it’s all right,’ her mother whispered as Gina started to retch. ‘We’ll work this out. It’ll be fine. Just tell me how far along you are.’

  ‘Four – four months.’

  Her mother nodded. ‘It’s not too late for a termination. Is that what you want?’

  Gina nodded, but then shook her head. She couldn’t go out, couldn’t leave the house ever again, not even for that.

  Lying down on the bed next to her, her mother continued to hold her, stroking her hair and waiting for the tears to stop. In the end she said, ‘If you change your mind we can see a doctor.’

  Gina had no idea what to do. Everything was so jumbled in her mind, so twisted by the horror of who she was and what she’d made happen that she couldn’t make any sense of her thoughts.

  ‘If you decide to keep it,’ her mother said, ‘then of course Dad and I will be here for you.’

  How could she keep it? How could she not keep it? If she didn’t she’d be responsible for another death, and that would make her an even worse slut than she already was.

  VIVIENNE

  Present Day

  Shelley’s cracked and worn hands were pressed to her cheeks, her grey eyes glassy with shock. She was staring hard at Gina, though whether she was seeing her was hard to tell. Vivienne could hardly begin to imagine how she was feeling, but the distress of the past coming back like this, the effort to take it all in was palpable.

  Josh’s hand was on his mother’s shoulder, comforting, strengthening. His eyes were down; his mouth set in a harsh, thin line. It wasn’t possible to gauge what he was thinking, but Vivi knew that concern for his mother would come before anything he was feeling for himself, or anyone else.

  As Gina and Gil rose to their feet, Vivi got up too. They had no place here now. Gina had said what she’d come to say; it was time for them to leave.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Gina whispered shakily. ‘I’m so sorry.’

  Vivi glanced at Josh again, but he still didn’t look up. Beside him his mother remained trapped in the past, seeing only she knew what, as she struggled to come to terms with what she’d heard.

  Vivi followed her mother and Gil across the room.

  As they reached the door, Shelley said, ‘I saw you.’

  Gina turned round, and she looked so fragile that Vivi wanted to wrap her in her arms.

  ‘At the crematorium,’ Shelley explained. ‘I’ve always wondered who you were. I thought … There were times I thought you were someone Jack had … known …’

  Gina shook her head. ‘I never met him,’ she said.

  Shelley looked up at Josh and began speaking quietly, reminding him of how she’d always known someone had been in the house that night, that it was what had woken her. ‘No one would believe me,’ she said. ‘There wasn’t any sign of a break-in … But now we know, it was Charlie Bleasdale, so Jemmie must have lied about them being in New York …’

  Though Vivi vaguely recognized the name Jemmie, she wasn’t sure from where, and her concern right now was for her mother. The trauma Gina had suffered as a result of knowing Charlie Bleasdale had drastically altered, in some ways ruined, her life. She’d never been the same since then. She’d become a victim of so much fear and guilt that she’d seen every bad thing that had happened in her life as a form of punishment. It had even broken her marriage to Gil, for she’d been unable to accept that she deserved to be loved.

  Shelley rose to her feet, and as she came to take Gina in her arms Gina started to break down. ‘There, there,’ Shelley soothed gently, pulling her in close. ‘Sssh, it’ll be all right. You must stop blaming yourself … You did nothing wrong …’

  Vivi had to swallow as Gina clung to Shelley like a child. She felt Gil beside her, and put her head on his shoulder as his arm went round her. He was the only father she’d ever known, and God knew he was the only one she wanted.

  ‘I brought the bronze,’ Gina told Shelley. ‘Vivienne said there’s another.’

  Shelley managed a smile. ‘Yes,’ she whispered hoarsely, ‘yes there is.’

  As Gil went to get the male figurine Josh followed him outside, while Shelley led Gina into the kitchen to show her the female. The instant Gina saw it she gasped. There could be no doubt at all that the two figures belonged together.

  When Gil returned and placed the male dancer in the niche with his partner, Shelley slipped a hand into Gina’s. ‘I’ve waited a long time for this,’ she murmured.

  Sensing how special the moment was, perhaps more meaningful than she could understand, Gina said, ‘Will you tell me about them?’

  ‘Of course,’ Shelley replied. She couldn’t take her eyes off the bronzes.

  ‘Maybe this is enough for today, Mum,’ Vivi said quietly.

  Accepting that it was, Gina allowed Vivi and Gil to take her to the car. Vivi looked around for Josh, but there was no sign of him.

  Before they drove off Shelley came out after them, her eyes still shiny with tears. ‘I think I met your mother once,’ she said to Gina.

  Gina looked surprised.

  ‘Bella?’

  Gina smiled and nodded.

  Shelley smiled too. ‘She seemed … like a lovely woman.’

  Swallowing a lump in her throat, Gina said, ‘Thank you. She was.’

  Shelley held her eyes. ‘I’ll tell you another time about the bronzes.’

  ‘I’ll look forward to it.’

  ‘I’ll call,’ Shelley promised, and Vivi was in no doubt that she would.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  VIVIENNE

  Present Day

  Three days had passed since Gina’s meeting with Shelley and in that time the two women had spent many more hours together, mostly at Deerwood, but once at Bay Lane. Though Vivienne hadn’t been party to their lengthy chats, she knew they were drawing a lot of comfort from one another, and seeing her mother finally breaking free of all the guilt and self-loathing she’d carried for so long was almost as uplifting as if it were happening to her. Gina looked younger, lighter, and a new confidence was already starting to bloom in a way that was clearly giving her the courage to draw closer to Gil again.

  The effect that the friendship was having on Shelley Vivienne learned from her mother, for she hadn’t heard from Josh since the day they’d visited the farm.

  Though it upset her, and on a deeper level even frightened her, for she was constantly aware of how limited her time might be, she understood his silence. She knew too that she needed to respect it, but she missed him so much and wanted desperately to know what he was thinking. The fact that her father was responsible for the death of his would be weighing heavily with him; God knew it weighed heavily with her. In fact it made her sick to her stomach to know that the blood of a man such as Charlie Bleasdale ran through her veins.

  Now, as she got to her feet, Vivi took a moment to steady herself, and went outside. The air felt cooler, fresher, this morning, and she inhaled deeply as if its elixir might in some way strengthen her. Though she’d received no more shocks from her device since the day she’d run out to the beach, she lacked energy, and had been informed by the clinic that their nightly monitorings were showing some unusual activity in her heart. That was the word they’d used, unusual, which she knew was a euphemism for worrying, perhaps even alarming.

  She hadn’t told anyone; she didn’t want to turn everyone’s attention to her when so much else was happening for them.

  Her gaze skimmed lightly over the glistening sweep of the bay, taking in the small white fins of sailboats, and a hang-glider swooping in from the cliffs. She was willing Josh to come. The need to ring him was overwhelming, but she knew instinctively, painfully, that he needed this space. He had much to think about, and to process, not least of all how they were to go forward after this. She had no clear idea herself, nevertheless the ache for him never left her. Her mind was full of the words she wanted to say to him, and her eyes could see him even though he wasn’t there.

  And then he was.
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  She gave a low moan of relief as the Land Rover came along the lane and drew to a stop at the gates. She watched him get out and come towards her, and then she was going to him, walking straight into his arms.

  He wrapped her up more tightly than he ever had before, pushing a hand into her hair and, as she inhaled the earthy, familiar scent of him she could feel his strength flowing into her like a drug.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he murmured harshly. ‘I should have rung …’

  ‘It’s OK,’ she whispered. ‘I knew you’d come when you were ready.’ She pulled back to look at him, and seeing the strain in his face, the burning light in his eyes, she put her lips to his.

  He kissed her back, gently, tenderly, cupping her face in his hands as though it were the most precious thing in the world. This was the first time their mouths had touched, and she yearned so much for the kiss to deepen, to lead them to all the places they longed to go, but he was already drawing away.

  ‘Are you all right?’ he asked gruffly.

  Vivi nodded, but he probably knew she wasn’t. He had a way of knowing that she’d never quite understood. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said.

  ‘For what?’

  ‘For being the daughter of the man who brought about the death of your father. He might not have actually killed him, but if he hadn’t gone to your house that night … You wouldn’t have had to grow up without …’

  ‘You can’t blame yourself,’ he interrupted, ‘or your mother for what happened. It was no one’s fault but his.’ She’d never heard bitterness in his voice before, or hatred, but it was there now and she knew instinctively that what he felt for Charlie Bleasdale ran even deeper than that.

  Taking his hand, she led him into the kitchen and put her arms around him again. He looked down at her, their mouths so close, their eyes drinking each other in, but then he was holding her at a distance as he said, ‘What do you want to do?’

  She frowned, not quite following.

  ‘Do you want to see him?’ he asked.

  She bulked in shock. ‘No! Never,’ she insisted. ‘I’m ashamed even to know I’m related to him.’

  He looked both angry and anguished. ‘No one should ever have to say that about their own father,’ he muttered, ‘but where Charlie Bleasdale is concerned …’

  ‘What do you want to do?’ she asked.

  His eyes flicked to hers and away again. ‘I can’t just let it go,’ he said. ‘Do you understand that?’

  ‘Of course.’ How could she not? His father had died unnecessarily and as a young man, thanks to Bleasdale’s vengeful prank. Josh and his sisters had grown up without a father because of it, and Shelley had been forced to live without the only man she’d ever really love. ‘So what have you decided?’ she asked gently, understanding that this was what his absence over the last few days had been about.

  The bones and muscles in his face seemed to clench as he said, ‘If it weren’t for you and your mother I’d be finding out if it’s possible to bring some sort of charges, but I can’t let him do any more damage to your lives. My mother doesn’t want that either, and not only for your sakes, for Humphrey and Jemmie’s too. She says she can’t forgive the way Jemmie lied to her at the time of my father’s funeral, but the Bleasdales are old now, and frail, and punishing them wouldn’t serve any purpose.’ He looked questioningly into her eyes. ‘They’re your grandparents, of course. Maybe you want …’

  She was already shaking her head. ‘I don’t want to meet them,’ she assured him. ‘I’m not going to do anything that might hurt or upset my mother, and contacting them would certainly do that. Besides, I don’t want to explain to them why they’ve never heard of me, and why I’ve never been in touch before.’

  Josh nodded, as though it was the answer he’d expected.

  ‘You still haven’t told me what you’re going to do,’ she prompted.

  ‘I’m going to see Charlie,’ he replied. ‘He lives in west Wiltshire. I got his address from his sister, Fiona, and I’ve already been in touch to tell him to expect me.’

  Though she wasn’t surprised, she was immediately concerned. ‘Did you tell him what it’s about?’

  ‘No, but he’ll probably assume it has something to do with his father’s horses.’

  She continued to look at him, trying to read, even to feel all that was going on inside him. She understood the anger and the need for justice, even if it was the sort he had to exact himself. ‘I’m coming with you,’ she told him.

  His eyes widened in protest, but before he could speak she said, ‘Please don’t argue. There’s a very good reason why I should be there, and once I’ve told you what it is I know you’ll agree.’

  The following morning was wet and grey as Josh drove them around the outskirts of Bath into Wiltshire, and on towards the quaint, touristy village of Castle Combe. It was where a number of movies and TV series had been filmed over the years, due to its fourteenth-century market cross and abiding olde worlde charm. It was also, Vivi remembered, where Sam and Michelle had spent the first night of their honeymoon, at the magnificent Manor House hotel, set back from the village at the heart of a billowing cluster of landscaped gardens.

  Charlie Bleasdale’s ivy-clad, former rectory was about half a mile past the upper village, fronted by tall iron gates that stood open to the main road. They drove straight in, tyres crunching on the gravel, and came to a stop between a moss-covered wall and a sleek silver Jaguar. Vivi looked up at the trees hanging over the house, rich with foliage, and darkening the upper storey in a way that made it seem vaguely chilling.

  Realizing she’d probably be seeing the house in a more flattering light if it had a different owner, she turned to Josh, anxious herself, but knowing that his feelings were running much deeper. ‘Are you OK?’ she asked.

  ‘I’m fine,’ he replied, not sounding it. ‘I’m more concerned about you.’

  ‘Let’s get it over with,’ she said, and sliding down from the car she waited for him to come and join her.

  As they reached the front door it opened before they could press the bell, and a plump fifty-something woman in a tight tweed jacket and jodhpurs barely took her eyes from her phone as she told them to come in.

  ‘Through there,’ she said, pointing to an open door off the shadowy entrance hall. ‘I’ll tell Charlie you’re here.’

  Vivi watched her disappear to the back of the house and felt Josh’s hand on her arm, as though he’d sensed her annoyance at the lack of manners. He gave a shake of his head, telling her to let it go, it wasn’t why they were here, and led the way into a grand, though shabby sitting room. It was cluttered with brown antique furniture and carpeted with faded and threadbare rugs. The fireplace was empty and dusted with old ash, the mirror above it seeming as weary as the ancient paintings and wallpaper it reflected. Through a tall casement window she spotted the woman crossing a neatly mowed lawn, with a crop under her arm and her mobile phone pressed to one ear.

  ‘I guess that’s the wife,’ she said to Josh.

  As he agreed, the sound of footsteps carried in from the hall and Vivi felt her mouth turn dry. She was about to come face to face with the man she’d longed to know, had pictured in so many ways, had even romanticized and turned into the victim of her mother’s selfishness. Now he was someone she’d never, ever think of as a father. After today he would be dead to her.

  She glanced at Josh, and seeing the purposeful set of his jaw she knew that the instinct to come with him had been a good one. His need to make Bleasdale pay was only just shy of murderous.

  She turned back to the door and as Charlie Bleasdale appeared, tall, eagle-eyed, with thinning brown hair, pitted cheeks and a faded handsomeness that she suspected he continued to play on with half-drunk ladies, she felt herself become rigid with tension.

  His coldness, his air of arrogance and disdain were in no way masked by his attempt at an affable welcome. ‘Young Raynor,’ he drawled, his tone somewhere between jovial and supercilious. He held out a h
and to shake, and looked surprised, affronted when Josh didn’t take it. ‘So what brings you all this way?’ he asked, tucking the hand into his jacket pocket. His eyes slanted to Vivi with a glint of confusion. ‘You brought the girlfriend, I see?’ he said, looking her up and down. ‘Nice. Don’t see any problem with that.’

  Somehow keeping his loathing in check, Josh said, ‘This is Vivienne Shager. She’s a lawyer and she’s here to bear witness to what takes place between us today.’

  Bleasdale’s eyes bulged with astonishment. ‘What takes place?’ he repeated incredulously. ‘What are you talking about, man? I thought we were going to discuss my father’s stables. It’s high time he put the old nags out to grass. I keep telling him that …’

  ‘I’m here,’ Josh cut across him, ‘to discuss the part you played in my father’s death.’

  Bleasdale froze, then blanched. His eyes shifted to Vivi and back again. He clearly knew he was on thin ice, and was scrabbling for a way to get off it. ‘What?’ he hissed. ‘Have you lost your mind? I had nothing …’

  ‘If you hadn’t been in the farmhouse that night,’ Josh continued, keeping a tight rein on his fury, ‘my father would still be here.’

  Bleasdale blustered, ‘Look here, I don’t know where …’

  Josh growled at him to shut up. ‘It was a joke for you,’ he snarled, ‘a way of getting back at him for throwing you off our land. You took the bronze, a trophy, to prove you’d got in and out while the family was sleeping. It was meant to unnerve him, make him worried for his children, afraid of what you might do next and when you might do it. Only it didn’t work out that way, did it?’

  Clearly shocked at having his plan so accurately described, Bleasdale put up his hands in defence. ‘Listen to me …’

  ‘You are listening to me,’ Josh gritted his teeth. ‘The only reason I haven’t gone to the police with what I know …’

  ‘I didn’t do anything …’

  ‘You were there.’