by H G White
I looked over at De Villiers trying to catch his eye. He saw me. I winked at him as if to say ‘Gotcha’ back. I saw the rage on his face. Without warning he picked up the glass of water in front of him and threw it at me. It missed. It hit the woman seated behind me, smashing on impact.
‘Bailiff, arrest that man!’
Charles De Villiers was dragged away by two large men in suits. I could hear him telling them that the glass had been meant for me, not for her and that it was all an accident …
They weren’t listening.
***
Peter was hopefully now on the way to becoming a very wealthy man. De Villiers could appeal but would there really be any point? The document had been proven to be genuine. And as it predated the De Villiers–Moncourt merger, it meant that the whole company would be Peter's, less our finders’ fees of course!
I was still trying to take it all in. Peachy was still erring on the side of caution; that it wasn't over until the fat lady had sung. But it was difficult not to feel like we'd won, even though I couldn't hear any singing.
Chapter 35
It was a just over a week later when I got the call from Peach. He had some unexpected news: Charles De Villiers was dead! Whether he'd topped himself wasn't clear but he'd had a cocktail of drink and drugs that had proved fatal. I felt no sorrow for him. If Neil had died De Villiers wouldn’t have batted an eyelid. There would be no appeal. The fat lady hadn't just sung; she'd left the stage. We were home and dry.
Chapter 36
Karl dipped his head under the water; when he surfaced, the air felt cooler. The Andalusian sunshine was fierce but the swimming pool made it heaven. Refreshed, he walked to the table; there were tapas laid out ready to eat. He looked at the lady tending her stitches. It had been two months since the glass had hit her head in that courtroom and still the cut had not properly healed.
Pamela Stokes dabbed a little more antiseptic on the weeping wound. A refreshing Margarita appeared as if by magic by the side of her. Karl looked up.
‘Where’s mine Dad?’
‘You’ll have to get it yourself. I’m not going back to the bar.’
Karl got up, walked over to the bar and ordered a Margarita. He was only fifteen but the barman served him anyway. Karl had never opened the package his father had asked him to snatch from the woman standing on the pavement that day, but whatever was inside, the three of them now had a much better life because of it.
The man looked at his son – walking towards him, a cold drink in his hand, a big smile on his face. Karl Lazarus loved Spain.
Epilogue
Fourteen years later
My father also told me: ‘He who laughs last – is usually thicker than everyone else.’
The world had changed, and life had changed for everyone. Peach had bought a bigger boat and had been pootling around the wider European canals, mainly in France.
Phil had acquired even more technology and owned a company that specialised in advanced computer security systems.
Neil had married Denise and become the taxi-king of the town. He had a fleet three times the size of the Bryces’ and covered a huge area. Graham Philips managed the operation for him.
Tegan and I had bought a smallholding. It was hard work but we were enjoying it. We were able to survive almost totally on what we produced, which was just as well, seeing as I’d made a few bad investments with my share of the court award and there wasn’t much of the money left.
Gavin had moved to LA. He had his own radio show and was also Celebrity Plumber to the Stars.
Vaughan had turned ninety and he'd also turned Newton Manor into a residential care home. He was its most important and demanding resident.
And Martin Sedgely – well he had become a full-time campaigner for the legalisation of cannabis. It wasn’t a paid position and I have absolutely no idea how he supported himself!
***
December was freezing. Neil helped Vaughan out of the taxi and into his wheelchair. Neil straightened Vaughan’s tie. Phil was putting gloves on as a man approached us. Peach walked over to him and shook his hand.
Sean Coleman was Richard Coleman's son – a partner in Coleman & Samuel. He was executor of the Steadmans’ estate. Although at the time of the hearing we didn't know it, Peter was extremely ill. I knew he'd been visiting doctors. Winning the case had meant he'd had the best treatment that money could buy. It also meant he probably managed to prolong his life many years more than someone without such means, but no-one lives forever.
Louise and Peter had been on their way to see a specialist. She had been driving when the car swerved across the road and crashed into one of the concrete pillars supporting a bridge. The coroner’s report stated that they were both killed instantly. There were no other vehicles involved. I wondered if it was a joint-suicide, but I guess it was one of those mysteries that will forever remain unsolved.
Contrary to all the promises everyone made at the time of the hearing, we hadn't kept in touch that often with the Steadmans. Peter and Louise had held on to the Shoreborough Estate, living in an apartment located in one of the wings. Yes we'd sent each other Christmas cards, but with their lives being so outrageously different from ours, it was a case of ‘never the twain shall meet’. I suppose in that regard, money did change some things.
They didn't have any children. Louise had a sister but none of us had ever met her. There were so many people at the funeral. Peach and Sean were chatting; I could never figure out what it was about funerals. People always seemed to make jokes; it was like they were in denial that it was a tragic event. Human nature, self-preservation, call it what you will, it was the mind trying to protect itself from stress.
The church service was respectful but shorter than I expected. Peter had made sure that the company had maintained its commitments to charity, and if I had to guess, most of the mourners had some connection through different charities supported by the Steadmans.
At the graveside there had been such a mass gathering, we were not really able to get very near. It was better that way. I'm sure there were many who had much closer relationships with Peter and Louise than we did. Proceedings drew to a close. People started to mill away, some making their way home, others to the wake.
As we stood there, Sean walked towards us once again. He was accompanying a woman wearing a veil. Could this be the sister?
Sean introduced us. ‘This is Tamara, Louise's sister.’
The lady removed her veil. Her mascara had run with the tears she’d cried, but running mascara could not hide her mesmerizing beauty.
‘Please call me Tara.’ We nodded our heads waiting for her to continue.
‘Thank you all for coming. We're having some drinks at the estate. If you would like to drop by you'd be most welcome.’
Again we nodded, and thanked her. As she was about to say something else, a boy appeared. He must have been in his early teens; he grabbed Tara's arm.
‘Come on Mum I want to go, we've talked to enough of these people.’
‘Don't be rude Ethan. These people have travelled a long way to say goodbye to Aunty Louise and Uncle Peter.’
Watching him, instantly I realised there was something vaguely familiar about this adolescent. I cast my mind back to the portrait of a young man I’d seen in Charles De Villiers’ office, years earlier. The bushy hair, the contemptuous expression. Suddenly, without warning Ethan sneezed and his head shook violently.
‘Come on then mister. We'd better get you indoors before you catch a cold.’ She smiled and they made their way to the chauffeured car waiting to take them home. I looked at Peach, Peach looked at Phil. In fact, we were all looking at each other.
I felt shocked. I wondered if they were thinking along the same lines I was. ‘What do you make of that then?'
Vaughan stroked his chin for a moment. ‘Mmm … if I’m perfectly honest, I think he's a very ill mannered youth.’
‘No, I mean, who does he remind you of?’
/> ‘Well no-one in particular, although I have to say Will, if you’ll excuse my French, that if the truth be known – I thought him to be an ugly little bastard!’
Phil looked at me. ‘Now you come to mention it Vaughan, he does remind me of someone!’
‘Thanks Phil.’ I said.
They laughed, I laughed.
All that burying had made us thirsty. We started to walk to the waiting taxi. It was time to attend Peter’s wake and have the gin and tonic we should have had with him all those years ago.
Table of Contents
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Epilogue