As spring magically turned the trees into a miracle of bird song, fresh new, slowly unfurling green leaves, and the glories of the first flowers, changing every day and becoming more and more beautiful, Ronald Martin died. Mabs was with him as he slowly relaxed into the unmistakable peace of the last farewell. He had been talking softly but Mabs understood little of what he had said. She called the doctor, then went to the phone to let Lottie know.
‘He was rambling on about property and investments, but I couldn’t follow what he was trying to say,’ she told her sister-in-law. ‘It was as though he was talking not to me, but someone else, someone he could see but I couldn’t. There were names he mentioned before, Billy Dove, among others. He’s made a will, I understood that.’
Lottie was surprised. ‘A will? I don’t think so, Mabs, dear. Everything was in joint ownership – not that there is very much. Just the house and some savings for our old age. I’d have known if Ronald had made one and I’d have been involved in the decisions.’
‘It’s with Davies, Davies and Philips. Or so he said.’
‘How odd. It’s all so simple. There wasn’t any need for a formal will.’
Family and friends gathered once the procedures were underway. They talked about the times when life had been carefree, of the childhood years, and of how everything had suddenly changed when Ronald had become ill. They ate snacks, drank tea and Lottie made a list of the people they needed to tell.
Zena phoned Jake’s office and the place where he was supposedly living, but couldn’t contact him. I’ll write to the office. They’re sure to know where he is. If he’s on his travels the office has to be the quickest way of getting the news to him, she decided. Aware of his real address, Greg wrote too, but not being certain of the house number and aware of the multi-occupancy of the houses in that drab area, his letter was returned to him a few days later.
In the office, Madeleine Jones read Zena’s letter regarding the death of her father and threw it away. She bought some of Jake’s favourite food and went home to where Madeleine had persuaded him to stay. She prepared their meal and said casually, ‘Zena hasn’t written for a while. Losing interest now you’re so far away, I expect. Absence makes the heart grow fonder? That’s a lot of nonsense.’
‘It’s true of me! Zena is busy, that’s all. When I persuade her to join me we’ll be fine.’
‘Do you think so?’
Jake didn’t sleep well that night. What was he doing there? He should have gone home to recuperate after the attack, with Zena and her family – his family. With no relatives, Zena, Ronald, Lottie, Greg and Aunty Mabs were the only family he had – or needed. Going find Madeleine after the attack had been a mistake, and being persuaded to stay had been a worse one. But how could he have faced going back to that dreadful place when he had the offer of a few more days in the comfort of Madeleine’s flat and her caring attention? He lay on Madeleine’s couch, wide awake, planning how he would explain his stupidity to Zena.
Greg was upset after seeing Rose again and the evidence that she had found someone else repeated and repeated in his head. With little hope, he decided to try one more time to find her. He needed to know why, then he’d be able to let it rest. The fact that she was in London was no help but if he could find out which area he might have a chance. He went first to the railway station and spoke to the ticket inspector, whom he knew slightly. He had been on duty when Rose left and remembered Greg shouting after her. ‘I don’t know her but remember her working in the shoe shop.’
It had been a quiet time when Rose had caught the train back to London and Greg learned that her ticket was for Paddington. ‘No use whatsoever!’ he muttered in dismay. She could be going anywhere. He thought he might ask Jake to help in the search. After all, he probably didn’t have much to do in his spare time and he might enjoy the company. Yes. Next time he had a few days off he would go to see Jake. He’d be letting Mabs down but she would understand.
He knew from his sister that Jake was not very good at letter writing so he decided to just go straight to Jake’s office. He wondered whether to invite Zena to go with him. It would be a nice surprise for Jake, and Zena would be so glad to spend some time with him.
Jake had fully recovered from his injuries. There was just the inconvenience of a plaster on his arm. He hadn’t gone back to work and was still staying at Madeleine’s flat, being spoilt and, he had to admit, enjoying it. She was very attentive, aware of what he needed before he knew himself. He wrote to Zena, telling her what had happened and promised to come home now his injuries had faded and no longer looked frightening. He gave it to Madeleine to post and she tore it up and put it in the first waste bin she passed. It wasn’t until Zena telephoned the office at a time when Madeleine was out that she learned about the attack.
‘Zena,’ Greg called as he walked through the door. ‘I’m going to London for a couple of days, would you like to come? It’s unlikely, but Jake might be able to help me find Rose.’
‘You’ve spoken to him? You know about his injuries? Why didn’t you tell me? It’s no wonder I haven’t heard from him, he was afraid of worrying me. Although he should have written when I told him Dad had died.’
‘What injuries?’
‘He was attacked. Money and his briefcase were stolen. He was beaten up and has a broken arm.’
‘Will you come then? Aunty Mabs will stay with Mam.’
‘Let’s get the funeral over first. Jake’s sure to be back for that. Then we’ll arrange a few days with him. It’s what we had once planned.’
They discussed this for a while and decided to go during the week following their father’s funeral, when Greg had three days off and Zena would have time to rearrange her days.
Every day Zena delayed setting off to her cleaning jobs to wait for the post hoping for a letter from Jake. ‘Perhaps he can’t get to a phone,’ she said to her mother.
‘Or maybe he doesn’t like funerals.’ Lottie suggested. ‘We had a neighbour once who refused to attend a funeral, ever.’
‘That doesn’t explain the lack of a letter or a phone call. If he can’t get to a phone box, surely there’s someone who’d ring for him?’
‘He’ll be there, dear. Jake may be absentminded but he wouldn’t miss supporting us on that terrible day.’
The funeral was a surprisingly quiet affair. Ronald had been ill for some time, in and out of hospital, and had lost contact with men he had worked with, and most of the local people with whom he had previously enjoyed socializing. Only twenty people went back to the house where Zena and Aunty Mabs had prepared food. There was no sign of Jake. Greg found Zena standing outside the back door alone, and, seeing she was upset, he put an arm around her. ‘Don’t be sad, Dad wasn’t having much of a life, was he?’
She turned a tearful face towards him. ‘If another person asks why Jake isn’t here I’ll scream.’
‘Don’t worry, next week we’ll find out.’
‘I know I’m always making excuses for him but maybe he didn’t get the letters I wrote?’
‘You finding excuses for Jake, me going to London in the foolish hope of finding Rose – who clearly doesn’t want to be found – a right pair, aren’t we?’
With Sam helping, Greg moved the bed they had prepared for their father’s convalescence back upstairs and put the house back to normal. Ronald’s clothes and personal belongings were away in his wardrobe; that was something their mother had to deal with. ‘I hate this,’ Zena said tearfully. ‘It’s as though we’re brushing Dad out of our lives.’
A week later, leaving Lottie in the care of Mabs, they set off.
They went straight to Jake’s office. ‘Then, if he isn’t there we can try the address of the flat he shares with his friend,’ Zena decided.
Greg shook his head. ‘Sorry, Sis but that’s a secret I really have kept from you,’ he admitted. He told her about his previous visit and the sad place where Jake lived.
‘I’m beginning to realize that I d
on’t know Jake at all,’ she said in angry disbelief, ‘and I was planning to commit myself to him for the rest of my life.’
‘I thought I knew Rose.’
They went by underground to central London. Rose took a deep breath as they walked towards the office. It was closed. ‘Take me to the place where he lives,’ she said. ‘I want this sorted. Is this really where he works? Or is everything a pack of lies?’
‘On the day I met him, he was coming out of this place and he carried a brief case and waved as he left, calling “good bye” and “see you tomorrow”, I’m sure he was working here then. But what’s happened since I don’t know.’
‘Perhaps we should go home and forget about Rose and Jake.’
Greg took her to the mean street where he had previously met Jake and they knocked at the door of the room and waited. There was no response until a nearby door opened and a man told them that the occupant of the room hadn’t been seen for several days. ‘It’s like that here,’ he explained lugubriously. ‘People come and they go and we never see them again.’ Greg thanked the man and led Zena away.
‘Now what?’ Zena said with a sigh.
‘We’ll go to the hotel and try again tomorrow.’
When they went again to Jake’s office, they gave their names to a receptionist who knocked on a door and called Miss Jones. There was no response. She opened the door saw the office was empty and shrugged. ‘She isn’t here. I’m sorry but I don’t know where she is or how long she’ll be.’
Crouched behind a filing cabinet Madeleine waited, then called the receptionist and told her never to admit those people, whispering that they were looking for her over a romance she’d had to end. Hiding a smile of amused disbelief, the receptionist promised.
Having nowhere else to continue their searches, they went to the theatre on their last evening. ‘Better than sitting in the hotel moping,’ Greg said. ‘This has all been a waste of time.’
‘Not completely. It’s helped me realize there’s no point in searching for someone who doesn’t want to be found.’ She turned to her brother. ‘We should both give up.’
When they got back to Llyn Hir, to Zena’s disbelief the door opened before Greg could find his key and Jake burst out and hugged her. ‘Darling! My lovely girl! I had no idea you’d lost your father. Why didn’t you tell me?’
‘Where have you been? We’ve tried everywhere to find you. I’ve phoned the office and spoken to that Madeleine woman and written to the flat you’re supposed to be sharing and to the office, marking the letter private. We’ve been to London and no one seems to know where you’ve been.’
All the time she was scolding him he was staring at her and smiling. ‘Oh, Zena. My lovely girl. How I’ve missed you.’ With his arms around her making her aware for the first time of the plaster on his forearm, they walked into the house.
‘Have you really been to London? Why didn’t you tell me you were coming? We’d have had a wonderful time.’
‘I think Miss Madeleine Jones has been careless with messages and post, don’t you?’
‘No, it must be some mix up in the post room.’
‘They handle phone calls as well, do they?’ she said sarcastically.
He knew he ought to tell her exactly what had happened and where he had been staying – she had obviously not received his letters, but he said nothing. Madeleine must have held back the letter, not wanting to worry Zena, kindly believing it better to wait until he was recovered. He explained that the shabby room was so he could put more money aside for their wedding, and about failing to mention the attack, presuming that was where she had addressed her letter. He said nothing about how Madeleine had looked after him. That wouldn’t have impressed her at all. There were times, he decided, when lying was simple common sense,
On Lottie’s behalf, Mabs called to talk to the solicitor who had drawn up Ronald’s will. ‘Can you come to the house when all the family are there?’ she asked.
‘If you wish, but there don’t appear to be any difficulties. It’s quite straightforward, Mrs Bishop.’
The solicitor called at Llyn Hir on the day following Zena’s and Greg’s return from London. Jake was present for the reading. The solicitor had described it as straightforward, but he told Lottie in private that things had come to light which changed everything. ‘There has obviously been a change in Mr Ronald Martin’s circumstances and a new will should have been fully discussed. This is the only one we have, unless you have something about which I haven’t been informed.’
‘Just read it, please.’
‘Very well.’ He coughed nervously. ‘To begin, I have to tell you this house had been re-mortgaged. I have no information regarding why this was necessary, the money is nowhere to be found. The debt on it was more than the money in your joint bank accounts will clear.’
‘That cannot be right! We have shares and investments that would easily clear the full cost of this house twice over.’
‘The stocks and investments are there no longer, I’m afraid.’
‘But—we were saving for the children’s future and our retirement. What’s happened?’
‘If I can continue, please, Mrs Martin?’ Zena noticed the man’s hands were shaking as he went on. ‘The money in the joint bank account to be distributed as my wife sees fit between herself and our children. For Lottie there is the jewellery I have bought her. A hundred pounds is left to Mabs in appreciation of her sisterly love and affection.’
Aware that Lottie had known nothing of the contents, although Ronald had assured him she was in complete agreement, the solicitor muttered about arranging probate and keeping in touch and left, leaving the family silent in shock and disbelief.
When they had recovered sufficiently to speak, both Greg and Zena offered the money they had been left, to their mother to help pay off the mortgage.
Although she actually had enough money to clear the debt completely, and with more to spare, Mabs offered her only the one hundred pounds she had been left and asked, ‘Why did he do this to you, Lottie?’ When Lottie shook her head, Mabs insisted, ‘Come on, this is a terrible indication of the state of your marriage, you must know why!’
Lottie went to her room and Mabs glared out through the window, and said finally. ‘Give me a lift home, will you, Jake? I want to be on my own to try and make sense of this.’ Then she turned and glared at the brother and sister. ‘You must know what was wrong, living in the same house as them, you must know! Tell me. Please.’ Zena and Greg shook their heads, completely confused by the last words of their father.
Long after Mabs had gone and Zena and Greg were asleep. Lottie picked up the phone. ‘He knew,’ she sobbed. ‘Ronald knew and he said nothing. He just planned this awful way of telling me he knew.’
Chapter Four
Over the following days, life went on at Llyn Hir as though everything had returned to normal but there was still an atmosphere of unease. Lottie refused to discuss the unexpected shock of Ronald’s will any further, but the mystery of his unkindness to his wife was on everyone’s mind. Mabs too refused to comment. She ignored Lottie when they met. To Greg and Zena, she insisted that their mother knew the reason for their father’s actions and, until she was told, she wouldn’t speak to Lottie again. She was very strained in her communication with them too, but when Greg turned up as usual to help in the night café she treated him as always, with a hug and a ‘Thank you, lovely boy’.
It made it difficult for them all, being unable to share their grief. Trying to avoid remarks on happy moments from the past that included their father, usually also included Mabs, who had been such a close part of their lives and avoiding her name was a constant worry.
Zena went home one day about two weeks after the funeral to find all her father’s clothes tied up in a bundle. They were going to the place where tramps called to find replacements when their clothes and shoes were worn. Other items were included, that would be sold to provide food for them. His personal possessions were plac
ed in a box from which friends could take anything they wanted. Books were left there and some records, which Lottie offered to Mabs.
‘Thank you but no, I don’t need anything to remind me of my brother. Unless you find a diary!’ she said sharply. ‘I know you must have hurt him badly and I want you to tell me how.’
‘Ronald was my husband. And what went on within our marriage is my business and no one else’s.’
‘He was my brother, and I need to know why he acted so badly. His family was his life; you and the children were his greatest pride and delight, so what went wrong? What did you do to him?’
‘If you don’t want any of his books I’ll take them to the hospital,’ Lottie replied, ignoring the question. ‘Some of the patients are glad of a book to read.’
Dismissed, Mabs left.
The house was cheered by visits from Nelda and her two lively girls. Their laughter and their endless questions brought the place to life after weeks of anxiety and worry. When she knew they were coming, Lottie busied herself cooking, making all the things children loved, cakes and biscuits, as well as sausage rolls with which Bobbie enthusiastically helped. The large garden and the fields beyond were perfect for adventurous play, with even Georgie managing to climb to where the tree-house still stood. Greg promised to get it strengthened so they could have tea there next time.
They walked in the woods and even down the rocky path to the edge of the lake, although the girls were warned never to go there without an adult. The company of the children did more that anything else to help Lottie. Zena knew this and invited them again for the following weekend.
Greg and Uncle Sam fixed the tree house ready for them with smiles of satisfaction. It had been Sam’s father Neville, who had made it originally and he came to inspect their work and nodded approval. It was the saddest time and the happiest, Zena thought. Such a pity her father hadn’t been there to enjoy it.
Jake was back in London but since the misunderstandings, he promised to come home every other week and he telephoned fairly regularly. With frequent communication between them and getting back to the daily minutiae there was always plenty to say and they returned to their former closeness.
The End of a Journey Page 9