Lewi's Legacy

by Graham Adams

  The shock of the news hit him very hard at that moment, then even harder when he realised that he was the reason for his daughter’s death. If she hadn’t contacted him that day with details of the lost artefacts, she would be still alive. Instead of jumping up and wanting to rush back to England, he just sat in the chair and put his head down in silence. Then something came to him, so that he had to ask his father a favour.

  ‘Dad, before I take my leave of you, I want to tell you the whole sorry story of my life between when I left you to meet Aunt Ruth, that day after your wedding, and right now, will you listen, and then give me some advice please?’ Collette excused herself as she went to make breakfast for them. His story was long and painful, but he didn’t hold anything back from Henry. They talked for several hours, they had eaten two meals and now the sun was disappearing into the western horizon, causing the sky to be flushed with red. Louis looked at the sky and smiled to himself. ‘Red sky at night, shepherd’s delight’, he recalled the old saying, but as he contemplated on the next day, there was little delight for him to look forward to.

  ‘So dad please tell me what to do, I’m all out of ideas.’ Louis looked despairingly at Henry.

  ‘I can only answer you, my boy, like this.’ Henry said. ‘If I was in your position I would firstly get a plane to London and try to find that young man who worked with my granddaughter and find out if you can, any clue to what he knows. Victor, that was his name, wasn’t it?’ Henry asked, and Louis nodded. ‘Also, if you were able to find out who did this, I fear for your own life son, if you try to seek some sort of revenge. Don’t forget the wonderful things you did to help those Jewish people get their belongings back, I know that you have sacrificed a lot, but please, I don’t want to be going to your funeral son.’

  Louis kissed his seated father on his balding head, and asked Collette if she would ring the airport at Marseilles and book him a flight to London, and in the morning drive him to the Marseilles Provence Airport. She gave him a quick hug and went to do his bidding.

  As he sat on the plane to Gatwick, having had only two days with his father and step mother, he wondered when he would get the chance to see them again. Seeing his father in his advancing years, had hit him hard, mainly because he had seen so little of him since the age of sixteen. It weighed heavily on him, but not as heavily as what he had to do in London; identify his only daughter’s body. A wonderful future cut so short, he pondered.

  The white marble-like features looked back at him as he shook with pain. The staff at the mortuary gave him space and time alone with her remains. As he leant over to kiss her face, his tears dropped on her closed eye and he whispered to her ‘Revenge will be mine, my darling to my last breath, revenge.’

  From that moment he knew what he had to do, - find Victor and get him to talk. As he walked through the huge concourse area of Waterloo Station, his mind was focussed on getting to Southampton and getting some help from his only friend there, Mark. He had dealt with all of his legal work, albeit not that much, mainly in respect of deaths, Aunt Ruth’s and Esther’s. Also he dealt with all his property transactions’ including the sale of the bungalow, and the little hideaway cottage in the New Forest he had for a while. He had rung Mark’s office at Williams and Smithson at The Bargates and was able to get an interview at ten the next day with him.

  Eating his evening meal at the Novotel, just a stone’s throw away from the Southampton railway station, made him reflect on his usual status of ‘meal for one’. He recalled the two times that he was left alone in this state. The first was through choice. Henry, his father, had asked him to accompany him to France but at only sixteen years old he needed to find his own way in life. The second time however, was completely different. Now, the only two women in his life had been forcibly and terribly removed. Was this the reward for searching for Lewi’s legacy? Was it the ring, or was it the great cost of finding it?

  As he walked up to the reception desk of the lawyer’s offices, he was looking forward to meeting Mark again. An accomplished lawyer in his own right, and yet so easy to approach and very friendly. He was about forty five years old, Jewish, and had another life apart from the law. His first love was music, particularly keyboards, and most weekends he could be found as a volunteer entertainer at any one of the large nursing homes in Bournemouth. He had a huge repertoire from classical to pop. He had a particular type of music that was frequently requested by the residents which was ‘music hall’. His rendition of ‘on Mother Kelly’s doorstep’ went down a storm with many of the older folk.

  Mark often made Louis howl with laughter with his humorous stories, one of which was Louis’s favourite. One particular lady would sit next to Mark whilst he was playing, and he would ask her if she would like to request anything. Every time her reply was the same. ‘Silence, young man all I want is silence!’ She would shout at the top of her voice.

  Before Louis was able to begin with his prearranged list of points, Mark told him that someone had been asking to meet him. This suddenly put him off his guard, but then Mark told him that it was in fact the current owner of the cottage he once lived in, and the owner had mentioned that he would quite understand if he declined. Louis did not decline and said that it would be a good idea and he would consider it.

  Surprisingly his lawyer told him that nothing could be done legally about Leah-May as the police were still investigating her death. He did say however that the police had agreed to use him as the go between and Mark promised that he would keep his client informed of any developments in that area.

  Louis hired a small Suzuki four wheel drive, as he knew what the area was like where he was going. As soon as he was out of the city, he felt a lift from all the dark clouds that were surrounding him. He was intrigued about the mysterious Edmund and hoped that there could be some mutual benefit from their meeting. He smiled to himself as he drove down the bumpy drive and on reaching the cottage he was pleased to see a Toyota pickup parked at the back, so he parked there too. He admired the carport that had been built with a little sports car underneath it.

  ‘Hello, can I help you?’ the man asked.

  ‘Sorry I was just admiring the car shelter, a good idea for the little Morgan.’ Louis smiled and walked towards the man, who had a collie standing next to him. ‘I’m Louis Owen; I believe you have been asking about me.’

  The man smiled and proffered his hand. Good to see you, Louis. My name is Edmund and it’s great to meet you, the previous owner of the cottage, yes?’ Louis nodded and Edmund indicated to him to step inside. He sat in the other chair and the dog came up to him and sat down beside him. ‘This is Zowie, she is a very friendly dog, less than a year old I think.’ Edmund said.

  As they sat down with a mug of tea, Edmund got down to the reason why he had enquired about Louis, thinking that they might have met somewhere in the past. Louis noticed a faint accent in his speech so he asked whether he came from Derbyshire, and his host said that he did. After a while they got around to where they went to school. Although they were born in the same year, and went to the same infants school, but had different teachers. Edmund remembered Danny Sanderson though, and screwed his face up when he mentioned the tripe shop his father ran. Louis found this hilarious and told him that they had found the first thing in common; disgusting tripe.

  When Louis told his host about the senior school he went to, Edmund asked if he knew Paul Arlington. He told his guest that he and Paul had left the town that they were born in, a few years after leaving school, and went to explore in France.

  Louis smiled and said that he did, particularly about Paul’s footballing prowess. He remembered reading in the local paper about his trial with Aston Villa.

  Edmund filled him in with some of Paul’s acting successes, especially in New York, where he still lived. Louis was speechless on hearing that. He could see already that they were going to be good friends when suddenly the dog barked and ran to the door. Edmund explained that it was time for a walk, and he asked
whether Louis would like to visit his bench and with a broad smile he agreed. His shoes were not really the best for the journey, but he shrugged that off and was first out of the door. With Zowie as their guide they were soon sitting on the bench, Louis took a look at the plaque and remembered Esther and the pain he had felt after her suicide.

  As they relaxed in the late morning sunshine, looking at the peaceful vista of the black pond, Edmund gave Louis a short history of his life, where he had ventured to into Spain and Portugal, but keeping the more serious items out, maybe for later. He did make his guest laugh when he told him about his and Paul’s escapades on the Forts in the Thames Estuary when they worked on the Pirate Radio station.

  Louis was quiet after Edmund’s stories and he felt a little sad that he didn’t have a great deal of fun or excitement in his life. He finally plucked up the courage to tell him that a couple of days ago he had had to fly over from Marseilles to identify his only daughter’s body, which had been found in the Thames. Edmund just stared at his friend, shocked to the core. He couldn’t imagine having to do the same for his daughter Ellie. Louis let him catch his breath, and told him that the last time he had spoken to his daughter; she was working in Paris with a young colleague called Victor.

  Edmund asked Louis whether she had told him where this Victor came from. He didn’t know that, but all she had said was that he had graduated from the same university in Southampton with an arts history degree. He told his host that he hoped to meet up with this Victor and perhaps he could shed some light on what had happened.

  ‘Look Louis, I know it’s a long shot but I was planning to visit some friends in Burley, and if you agree to come, you might see something that could help you.’ Edmund got up from the bench followed swiftly by his guest.

  Louis followed the Toyota along the beautiful forest roads and soon they were in the village heading down Pound Lane, and coming to a halt opposite a row of small cottages. Edmund tapped on the door of the middle one, and an old lady answered the door and smiled at him as she gestured for them to enter the living room. After the introductions Edmund enquired after Sally and Harry pointed to the ceiling. Without asking he gathered that his dog was up with the young man in his bedroom.

  ‘Before you ask, Eddy, the doctor says that it’s best that he stays at home as it is only..’ Edmund put his arm around Fay and she didn’t hold back her tears.

  ‘Do you think it’s possible we could go up to see him?’ Edmund asked them both.

  ‘Let’s all go up and see him Eddy, shall we?’ Harry changed from disconsolate to suddenly cheerful. ‘I feel only good can come from seeing you my boy.’

  They all filed up into the tiny bedroom including Zowie, who was on her lead. Louis could not hold back the tears when he looked inside. The still, white faced young man was lying in his bed as if he was already dead, and sitting alongside the bed with her head on the cover near his hand was Sally, another border collie. She didn’t move her head. She just averted her eyes to them and then closed them again. Louis looked closely and he could detect a small rising and falling of the bedcover near his chest, but that was the only sign of life that he could see.

  Edmund looked at Harry and the older man nodded his approval as he unleashed Zowie who submissively crept around the bed to Sally, and they all watched as she sat down beside her and placed her head on the bedcover. Sally lifted her head and licked Zowie’s face as if to say ‘Hello’ and then they just sat together in the same position. Louis could hear Fay sob out loud, it was a beautiful moment.

  Edmund looked again to Harry and his host nodded his approval again, and waved his hand as if to tell him to carry on with what he intended to do. Edmund asked Louis to stand alongside him as he pulled something out of his trouser pocket. His friend looked down at Edmund’s hand, and nestling in his palm was a small smooth stone. Edmund picked it out of his hand and gave it to Louis, who then looked at it more closely. It seemed to be glowing right in the centre of it, or maybe it was a trick of the light? Edmund asked Louis to place it in the young man’s hand and close it over the stone, which he did.

  Edmund then pulled out a little brown dropper bottle similar in shape to the oil bottle people often used for their ear drops.

  ‘I bought this last week from a renowned herbalist in Southbourne. He says that it will do the boy no harm. Is it ok if I try something Harry?’ Louis asked.

  The two parents looked at each other and nodded for him to go ahead. Louis instinctively knew what Edmund wanted him to do. He slid his arm underneath Victor’s neck and gently pulled his head away from the pillow. Edmund then squeezed open the young man’s mouth and placed a few evil smelling drops of the liquid into the opening. He nodded to Louis who lowered the head back onto the pillow.

  Louis looked at the hand that had the stone in it and pointed it out to the others. There was a distinct change of colour of the whole hand and it seemed to be creeping up his arm.

  ‘I think we all ought to go downstairs and have a cup of tea. What do you say, Fay?’ Edmund asked in a sort of jolly tone. They all left the young man in the care of the two dogs.

  ‘What do you think will happen to him, Edmund?’ asked Louis as they sat in the lounge.

  ‘I must tell you, I have no idea what will happen, but if something does, it will be a thousand times better that what their doctor could drum up, don’t you agree?’ His new friend answered with a smile. The day before, Fay had walked into the village and she had purchased some of the famous Burley fudge. She placed the delicious cubes on a china plate and handed them around. There must have been eight different varieties on that plate. Fruit, chocolate and mint varieties, they soon disappeared. Harry showed Louis some of his paintings and his new visitor remarked on the fine detail, but he was drawn, as Edmund was, to the magical painting of the figures in the misty moor.

  Harry was about to tell him the story of the painting when there was a chorus of barking coming from upstairs, and it seemed to be getting louder. They all rushed up allowing Harry and Fay to go into the bedroom first.

  ‘Victor, Victor! Fay shouted, ‘You’ve come back my darling boy!’ The young man, looking very dazed, was sitting up in bed eyes wide open, but very much better. Harry hugged Edmund, and went to other side of Victor’s bed and Louis shook Edmund’s hand enough to almost break it.

  ‘Can you speak, my son?’ His father finally spoke.

  ‘Who’s been eating fudge? I can smell it from here!’ Victor said a little shakily. They all laughed and the dogs barked as loud as they could.

  Harry noticed the stone that had been in Victor’s hand had fallen onto the carpet, so he retrieved it and gave it to Edmund. ‘Thank you, my dear friend.’ Harry said, and went back to his son.

  The two men and the collie quietly left the house with the happy little family still in the bedroom, and as they stood opposite the cottage, Louis could hear Sally still barking, and he was still reeling from what he had just witnessed.

  ‘Do you think that that is the same Victor that you talked about Louis?’ Edmund asked.

  ‘I should like to find out for sure. Do you think we could go back in a couple of days please old friend?’ Louis asked. They agreed to meet at that place on the Saturday, and Edmund reminded him that it was very busy with tourists at the weekend; even though Pound Lane was a little quieter than the centre of the village.

  22 Sew it up

  Bargates Southampton

  Louis had two days free to explore places he had never seen, or had time to spend in them. Edmund had suggested he go to the coast at Southbourne, so the next morning after breakfast he made that his first destination. The morning was a cold one however, and as he walked towards the beach, he was facing a cutting wind coming off the sea. Not prepared for extreme weather he only had a lightweight coat on and town shoes, but he had got here, so nothing was going to change his mind. The gusting wind was whipping up the waves that were crashing onto the sand causing the water to foam, which covered his shoes. Push
ing his way through the wind felt like he was pushing against all the negative things in his life, trying to find a way through.

  As he struggled to get forward along the beach, with the noise of the battering waves he felt a sort of calm inside, and at the same time he recalled his father’s words ‘I don’t want to go your funeral son.’ He then thought of Harry in Burley. He reminded him again of his own father; they both displayed a grace and patience that he would like to aspire to. As he faced the sea, the spray of the water seemed to clean his face and strip away all the bad thoughts clouding his mind at that time, replacing them with a hope of better things. He turned again at the shrouded shape of Hengistbury and further out, a vague grey outline of the Needles. It reminded him of the awakening of the young man Victor the day before, and the self assured character of Edmund. There was something evident in the man, simple and yet deep. Had he suffered any pain? Surely not, and yet why had he become a recluse in that cottage deep in the New Forest? As he turned for home, he decided that he wanted to know more about his new-found friend, and he trudged up the Zig Zag at Fishermans walk and headed to the café on the cliff top.

  As he walked into the café, he suddenly felt wet through. He was soaked right to the skin. There were only a couple of tables in use so his self consciousness soon subsided. After a warming hot chocolate, he decided to take the route through Lyndhurst on his way back to Southampton. A few miles past the town he noticed a sign for Hythe, turned off and headed there for a while. There were several benches for visitors to admire the view over the Solent, to look at the great ocean liners filling up with the next cruise passengers. Louis sat next to a very old man who gave him a smile as he sat down. They were soon talking, and the old man told his visitor that he used to work in one of the great hangars looming close to where they sat.