Unspeakable

by Marturano, Tony

  Adam had learned much about the Harrison dynasty, including details of the tragedy that had befallen it, here at this very place.

  However, it wasn’t death that unsettled him but something much more important; Rupert Harrison, Elisabeth’s cousin. He was a multi-millionaire, and the majority shareholder of one of the most successful publishing houses in the world. Adam had met him but a few times in the past year. Each meeting was more nerve-wracking than the last. It wasn’t just because the man was, albeit indirectly, his boss, but more because he was Elisabeth’s closest family member; a family that he planned to marry into very soon.

  It was not lost on Adam that Elisabeth doted on her younger cousin and that the two were more like siblings than relatives. It was for this reason that he wanted to make a good impression, and this was the best opportunity to do so.

  Nobody was going to get in the way of that, Adam thought as he watched the blue Ford Explorer make its way onto the forecourt, and come to a standstill behind the Range Rover.

  He had met the driver, James Howard, Rupert’s closest mentor and corporate lawyer, multiple times before. They worked in the same building, and, regardless of Adam’s intimate relationship with Elisabeth, the lawyer had made it pretty obvious that he trusted him only as far as he could throw him. It was clear that he’d already written him off as another of Elisabeth’s opportunistic toyboys.

  Adam resented the presumption.

  He watched the pot-bellied sixty something-year-old man, in the unflattering grey sweatsuit, get out of the car, and unload his bags, and vowed to convert him to his way of thinking.

  James Howard hooked the overnight bags over his shoulder and, as he did so, he watched Adam put an arm around Elisabeth She promptly shrug it off as they entered the building.

  James looked up at the building; it had been a long time.

  So many memories.

  Eventually, he turned to his partner to find that she had left the car, and was now reaching up to feel the stone gargoyles of the fountain.

  “Isabella?”

  No answer.

  “Isabella?”

  He walked over to her and placed a hand on her shoulder.

  “Isabella.

  She spun to face him.

  “Wow, sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said, looking into her pale face, “but I called you and you didn’t answer. Are you okay?”

  After a few lingering moments, she said, “I’m fine,” zipped up her coat, and added, “Just cold.”

  The tone of her voice was flat, her accent Polish.

  James smiled, “Then we best get you inside.”

  Born in London, and after spending most of her childhood there, Isabella Meltza returned to Poland with her parents and the Meltza Globetrotting Fairground. This is how she lived and worked for the next twenty years, until her father’s business failed and they settled into a house near Warsaw. However, Isabella’s home was London and, after a painful separation from her parents, she moved back home to train and earn her living as a counsellor.

  Eleven months ago, as James struggled to cut the umbilical cord of an eighteen-year marriage, his secretary suggested he meet with Isabella and, after much encouragement, he did.

  Isabella opened his eyes and helped him see the end of his marriage did not mean the end of his life, but that it was, in fact, a new beginning.

  In fact, it wasn’t long after James checked out of therapy that he began to see more of Isabella. Nothing serious. Just the odd show, the occasional meal.

  She had managed to avoid the other people in James’ life, until now.

  She looked at the building as if it were a great wall she was about to scale.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” James asked.

  “Yes,” she replied, sweeping a curl of black hair from her blue eyes.

  He placed a gentle, reassuring hand on her arm. “Don’t worry about this lot. They may be rich, but they’re lovely people.” He paused and then added with mock seriousness, “Well, all but Elisabeth, she’s a bitch.”

  They laughed.

  “Come on,” he said, looking up at low-hanging rain clouds, “looks like the weather is turning again.”

  Inside the house, Elisabeth had called to her cousin, but the only reply was the hollow clicking of her heels on the hard floor.

  “Where do you think they are?” Adam asked.

  “How am I supposed to know?” Elisabeth snapped. “She’s probably taken him around the back for a quickie. That’s her speciality you know, quickies.”

  “Really?” Adam asked. He had heard this story before.

  “Don’t be glib, Adam. It doesn’t suit you.”

  “For God’s sake, Elisabeth, lighten up…”

  “Lighten up?” she echoed in an angry whisper. Then, moving closer to him, she added, “How do you expect me to lighten up when I’ve agreed to spend a weekend with some gold digging slut who’s attached herself to my cousin like a parasite, and a throwback hippie who’s idea of a fun day is probably a sale at Oxfam?”

  “I don’t think they’re as bad as you’re making them out to be,” Adam said.

  “Yes, well you wouldn’t,” Elisabeth retorted, dismissively.

  “So where are our hosts?” James asked, somewhat breathlessly, as he struggled through the door with his bags and ample paunch.

  “Your guess is as good as mine,” Elisabeth threw back.

  “They’ve probably gone for a walk,” Adam offered.

  “Not by that lake, I hope.”

  “Why, what’s wrong with lake?” Isabella asked as she marvelled at the interior of the building.

  Elisabeth’s eyes widened with interest. “You mean you don’t know? James hasn’t told you?” She asked with a wry smile.

  “No, I haven’t had the chance yet,” James said with a glare.

  “Tell me what?” Isabella asked, half-heartedly, for the ornate balustrade and the red-carpeted stairs mesmerized her. The place looked so regal.

  “Well, umm... “James fumbled with words.

  “Well?” Elisabeth prompted him, smiling mischievously. She relished his discomfort and could not wait for Isabella to find out that someone had actually died here. She was bound to freak out.

  James knew this. “I’ll tell you later,” he said not taking his eyes off Elisabeth’s smirking face.

  “Oh well, if you aren’t going to tell her then we may as well go see if we can find my…” Elisabeth cut her words short and her face creased into a big smile, “Rupert!”

  “Hello everyone,” he said as he entered the front door, closely followed by Ashley. “I’m sorry. We went for a walk and completely lost track of time.”

  “So we gathered,” Elisabeth said, embracing and kissing her cousin on both cheeks.

  “How are you?” Rupert asked, looking her up and down.

  “Oh fine, considering the journey.”

  “Was it not a comfortable one?”

  “Yes, it was but…”

  “I think what Elisabeth is trying to say is that she couldn’t wait to get here.” Adam interrupted, extending a hand. “Good to see you again, Sir.”

  “Sir? Adam. Only a few years older than you! Call me Rupert. And thanks for taking the time to come over.”

  “Wouldn’t have missed it for the world, Sir… Rupert!”

  “Sir Rupert? For crying out loud, man, you’ll be calling him lord next,” James mocked, as he hugged Ashley and said loudly, for Elisabeth’s sake, “Can I just say, you look fabulous today, Ashley. If you don’t mind me saying so.”

  “Oh thank you. No, I don’t mind at all,” Ashley said, putting on a very posh voice.

  They laughed.

  Elisabeth rolled her eyes.

  “So, where did you go? I was thinking of taking a stroll with Isabella later,” James said.

  “Oh, you must… I’m Ashley, by the way,” she said with a big smile, and touching Isabella affectionately on the arm. “We walked the whole mile through the
woods to the next estate. I can’t believe it’s all part of the same property.”

  “It's good to meet you,” Rupert joined in.

  He moved to embrace her but Isabella pulled away, abruptly, as ice cold tentacles shot up her arms and stabbed her brain. Daylight turned to night and she felt as if the room was going to implode on her.

  James was fast off the mark and rushed to catch her fall as Rupert, dumbfounded, just watched the woman as she was helped to a nearby chair.

  Ashley rushed to assist.

  For what must have been the tenth time already, Elisabeth rolled her eyes.

  “Isabella, are you alright?” Ashley asked, her voice laden with concern.

  After a few moments and what sounded like panting, she replied, “Yes, I think so. I’m sorry. I get these silly things all the time. I will be okay in a minute,” she said.

  “Are you sure?” James asked.

  “Yes. Honestly, I’m sorry.”

  James looked at Rupert; “Well, you always did have this effect on women.”

  The comment worked to dispel some of the tension in the air.

  They all laughed.

  It was then that Ashley gasped. “Isabella, you’re bleeding.”

  Indeed, Isabella’s nose had spontaneously begun to bleed. The blood was dribbling over her lips, down her chin and onto her anorak.

  “Oh God,” Elisabeth groaned under her breath.

  “Come on, let’s get a cold compress on that,” Ashley offered, helping the woman out of the chair.

  “Oh, I’m sorry to be such a nuisance.” Isabella apologised.

  “Don’t be silly, it’s no problem. I get these all the time. Admittedly, it’s after a few rounds with him.” She exchanged comforting glances with Rupert and James, who watched as Ashley led the Isabella away, towards to the kitchen.

  No sooner were they out of earshot and Elisabeth perked up, “Well that’s just perfect.”

  “I’m sorry about that,” James said.

  Rupert smiled. “Why are you apologising? It’s not your fault. I just hope she’s okay.”

  “Pretty smooth, Rupert, bringing women to their knees just by the shake of a hand,” said Adam.

  “He’s a very handsome man,” Elisabeth replied, putting her arm around his waist. “Unfortunately, he doesn’t set his sights very high.”

  This was an obvious dig at Ashley that Rupert ignored and said instead, “I’m a very happy man, Elisabeth.”

  “Yes, but…”

  “…he’s a very happy man, Elisabeth,” James reiterated.

  Rupert smiled.

  It’s going to be a long weekend.

  “Come on, I’ll show you to your rooms,” he said.

  4 RUMOURS

  Kenning Hall’s first guests for two decades spent the next few hours unpacking, exploring and settling into their respective rooms.

  It was 7:03 pm when Rupert and James found themselves sharing a drink in the study.

  It was a large traditional wood-panelled room, with one entire wall made of books; an eclectic collection of soft and hardbacks of all sizes. Some in pristine condition, others dog-eared and tired. Most were Harrison imprints.

  Rupert’s grandfather began the collection when his publishing house printed its first book. The tradition was passed down to his son, but ended that fateful day, many years before, leaving a lonely gap in two of the long shelves.

  A sad metaphor of the hearts of those left behind.

  A large open fireplace sat at the opposite side of the room, surrounded by a couch and a pair of armchairs.

  There was a massive square window that almost ran from floor to ceiling. An imposing oak desk sat in front of it.

  The desk was clutter free but for a blotter, two cradled fountain pens and a lamp which was on, creating a tawny smog of the cigar smoke that was rapidly filling the room.

  Rupert pushed open a section of the window and dusk’s fresh air hurried in like a whirlwind of chambermaids eager to purify the contamination.

  “You know, if Ashley catches me smoking this thing, I’m a dead man,” Rupert said with a smile.

  “It’s okay, I’ll confess to coercing you into keeping this old fart company.”

  They were sitting in two of the leather upholstered armchairs that guarded the front of the desk.

  “Oliva Serie V Melanio Figurado and single malt whiskey, Rupert? Your intimate knowledge of my most treasured vices is frightening.”

  “If there’s one thing I learned from my father, it’s that the cigar is one of man’s finest pleasures and, as such, only the finest will do,” he said with a silky, dreamy voice, and then promptly had a coughing fit.

  James laughed. “Indeed,” he said, knowingly.

  Rupert quickly stubbed the cigar out in the nearest ashtray, causing James to wince until it was replaced with an affectionate smile.

  “Thanks, Rupert.”

  “Don’t mention it,” the younger man said, swiping at the air in front of him, still spluttering, and then taking a swig from his glass. “It’s my way of saying thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “Well, just for being there. You’ve always been there for father and, most importantly, for me when I needed it the most. I know things are different in the city, that we tend to talk work most of the time, but I just want you to remember that, for me, you’re part of the family.”

  James smiled, warmly, at the young man.

  Rupert had travelled such a long, difficult and often lonely road, and James was immensely proud of what he had become. The fact that he may have somehow been instrumental in this was a bonus.

  The reality was, James had played a significant and positive role in Rupert’s journey to adulthood. Ever since that tragic day, the young man had struggled not only with the burden of his loss, but with the grief he believed his failure to save his brother had caused their parents.

  “So what’s with your best-kept secret, Isabella? Why haven’t I met her before?” Rupert asked.

  “Oh, you know. It’s still early days. We’ve been more like companions for the past year. It’s only recently that we’ve started to spend more time with each other, so I thought it was time she met you all. By all, of course, I mean you.”

  “It’s mine and everybody else’s privilege. She’s lovely, and it’s good to see you moving on.”

  “What about you and Ashley?”

  Rupert nodded, thoughtfully, “Yes, things are good.”

  “Just good?”

  “What else do you want me to say?”

  “Do I hear wedding bells?”

  Rupert shuffled in his seat “Um, no, can’t say we’ve discussed anything like that yet. She won’t even move in with me, so I don’t think there’s much chance of me walking her down the aisle just yet. Besides, I’ve already been through one of those and you know how that ended. I’m in no particular hurry to rush into another.”

  “That was over two years ago.”

  “Just under, actually,” Rupert corrected.

  “Whatever. I’m wondering if you’re enjoying this whole most eligible bachelor thing way too much. Has it occurred to you that Ashley may not be interested in just playing house with you? Maybe she’s expecting more of a commitment.”

  Rupert lifted an eyebrow. “I’m sorry, doctor, could you say that again?”

  James continued, “Ashley’s right for you, son. I’ve never seen you this content.”

  “Really? Is it that obvious?” Rupert asked with a grin. “Elisabeth seems to think that I’ve not been myself since the divorce.”

  “That’s because your ex happened to be her best friend.”

  Rupert nodded, pensively, before taking another drink from his glass.

  James took advantage of the moment.

  “Rupert, there’s something we need to talk about. I wanted to wait until after your birthday but, hell, you’d only give me a roasting for not telling you sooner so I’m mentioning it now.”

  Rupert s
hifted in his chair. “What’s up?”

  “I spoke to Jonathan today, and he shared something with me that I think you should be aware of.”

  “Go on.”

  “Someone’s been showing a lot of interest in Harrison stock.”

  Rupert cocked his head, “Interest?”

  “They’ve been buying unusually large chunks of shares.”

  “Someone? You sound dramatically cryptic, James.”

  “We don’t know who. All we know is that they’ve hired Dillon, Harris & Norris to transact on their behalf.”

  Rupert frowned.

  Dillon, Harris & Norris were a partnership of notoriously ruthless stockbrokers, with a rumoured reputation for market manipulation.

  “Yes. That’s why I thought you should know,” James added. “I’ve scheduled a meeting with Jonathan and the rest of the team first thing Monday so we can discuss. Just as a precaution. Of course, you and Elisabeth are still majority shareholders.”

  “Does Elisabeth know about this?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Okay. Let’s not say anything to her just now. You know how she can get, and nothing may come of it.”

  “Whatever you think’s best,” James nodded.

  There was a pause as an owl signalled the onset of night.

  “So, what do you know about this Adam character?” James asked.

  Rupert pondered for a few seconds then shrugged, “Not much, actually. Seems a pretty decent guy, though, he’s put up with Elisabeth for the best part of a year so all due credit to him.” Rupert raised his drink as if to toast that fact. “Why?”

  “No particular reason, just wondering,” James replied, casually.

  “Right,” Rupert said, knowingly, and then added, “You don’t like him?”

  “I don’t even know him. Nobody really knows him.”

  “Well, I get the impression that Elisabeth has got to know him very well,” Rupert said with a smile.

  “Yes, about as well as a praying mantis,” James said, dismissively.