by K. J. Rabane
“Perhaps you could post these for me after I’ve left, Mrs Bates?” I ask, realizing this is the last task she will ever carry out for me.
Sitting in the back of Morton Phillips’s taxi, I look back as the car approaches the bend in the drive. Mrs Bates and Tinker stand on the steps of River House, their images blurred by the raindrops, which trickle down the car window. I sigh remembering it is always a mistake to look back.
The train to London stopping at Kings Datchet at ten fifteen is half-empty and I find no difficulty in locating a seat. I lift my suitcase into the luggage rack and sit down as the train pulls away from the station.
Chapter 40
Arnold Simpson has been working for ‘Constant Caterers’ for six months; it’s his first job since leaving school and his mother is proud of him, especially as he looks so smart wearing his uniform. She presses his black polyester trousers every morning and makes sure that the striped shirt, with the Constant Caterer’s logo on the pocket, is crisp and freshly laundered.
Arnold likes trains, likes the excitement of watching people. Travelling is something Arnold hopes to do, when he has saved enough money. He likes to watch travel programmes on the television, imagining lying on an exotic beach somewhere, sampling foreign foods or exploring ancient buildings. He’s a dreamer but has the sense to know his dreams will have to wait a while longer. Until that day arrives, he lives vicariously through the lives of people using the trains. Most are commuters travelling to work, some, the lucky ones, are off on holiday. He often tries to imagine what it would be like to be able to travel in the first class compartment, along with luggage that looks and smells expensive. It’s a habit of his to visualise where these people are likely to be going and what their lives are like. It helps to pass the time, whilst he pushes his trolley along the train.
Arnold’s flights of fancy often run away with him as he contrives occupations and locations to suit the passengers. For instance, he has noticed a man sitting in the first class carriage and imagines he’s an international jewel thief making his escape to the continent.
Arnold feels the train hit the buffers as it draws to a halt; he is used to it now and manages to stand upright without having to hold on to anything. Over the top of his trolley in the buffet car, he sees the passengers hurrying along the platform, heads bent against the wind, which is whistling through the station. He looks for his jewel thief but doesn’t see him, so concentrates on squeezing a large spot, which has appeared on the side of his nose, instead.
“Jump to it, Arnold lad, them carriages need tidying up.”
Fred Hopkins, Arnold’s boss, calls to him across the bar. Wiping the tip of his finger on the edge of his sleeve Arnold pushes his trolley down the train, picking up empty drink cartons, crisps packets and cardboard coffee cups and putting them into the waste bin attached to his trolley. He whistles softly to himself as he enters the first class compartment and sees his jewel thief asleep, his head resting on his chest.
“End of the line, sir!” he gently prods the recumbent finger with the tip of the finger he used to squeeze his spot, earlier. The man slides sideways in his seat, his head slipping forward at an angle. Arnold takes a step backwards and gasps.
It’s the first corpse he’s seen and the blood drains from his face leaving his skin the colour of putty as he staggers out of the carriage in search of Fred Hopkins who will know what to do in such circumstances.
Chapter 41
Henry Dangerfield is alone in the house. Josie is visiting Emily, the new owner of the Bennett house. In the distance, Henry can hear the sound of a mechanical digger as the council struggle to build up the riverbank with earth taken from the woodland in order to stem the rising water. He looks out of the window to the bottom of his garden. The river path is no longer visible due to the river having encroached half way up the garden. The level has risen throughout the day, as the showers have become heavier. Henry looks upwards at the leaden sky and realizes there is unlikely to be any improvement in the weather for the rest of the day.
He glances back to the newspaper resting on his lap and opens it. An item at the bottom of the second page catches his eye, it reads; - ‘Man found dead on London train’. As he continues reading the report, the paper slips to the floor. His good friend and neighbour has suffered a fatal heart attack on the ten fifteen train to London from Kings Datchet.
As Henry looks up from the paper, his gaze falls on the photograph on the top shelf of the bureau, which was taken at a polo match. He was seated on ‘Desert Night’ a beautiful black stallion with a coat as shiny as a maiden’s hair. The image of a vibrant young man, at his physical peak, stares back at him. The photograph was taken when he’d captained the winning team against the Argentineans. It was a year before he had met Josie.
That was the year he met Evie. She was in the crowd watching him when the photograph was taken and had shouted out his name along with the rest of the fans. The night before she’d spent in his bed; one of the many girls who found his celebrity status and good looks an aphrodisiac; but Evie wasn’t like the others, Evie was different.
Henry closes his eyes and the memories come flooding back.
*****
The South American sun beat down out of a cloudless blue sky, merciless in its intensity, as the mid-day temperature rose. Henry Dangerfield, Lewis Sanfield and Buster Norman headed for the shade of the bar in the centre of Buenos Aires, sweat trickling down the back of their cotton shirts. The bar was cool and, as the next match was two days away, they sank a few more beers than usual.
Buster saw her first. “Hey guys, check out the waitress, the one with the legs up to her armpits!”
Henry turned around. He was sitting on a stool at the bar. He locked eyes with the girl with short dark curls framing her elfin face. She wore a black mini skirt, which left nothing to the imagination and a white cotton blouse thin enough to outline the shape of her breasts.
Henry knew if he showed any interest in her whatsoever The Game would start. It was always the same and ended in the same way. The victor was the one who bedded her first. He turned back to his beer. “Bit obvious, I’ve seen better,” he commented, raising his glass and ordering another. His friends soon lost interest and the conversation turned to the forthcoming final in two day’s time. As the late afternoon sun sets, they left the bar and headed back to their hotel. Sometime later, after dinner, Henry left the trio drinking in the hotel bar and caught a cab back to the bar they’d visited that afternoon. She was still working, serving drinks to the customers seated at the tables. Henry sat in a corner and watched her for a while. There was something about her that stood out from the crowd of other attractive women who caught his eye. This one was different.
“What can I get you?” she asked, notepad and pencil at the ready. She didn’t look at him; her eyes were fixed firmly on the pad. A lock of damp hair curled on her forehead and she pushed it back impatiently.
“I’d like you to come and have a drink with me in my hotel room, after you finish here,” Henry replied.
“I think you’ve got the wrong idea, sir.” She looked up and hesitated as their eyes met.
“I’ll have a beer,” he said, keeping his eyes on her face.
He waited until she’d finished her shift then left. When she emerged from a side door, he was leaning against the wall waiting for her. “At least let me walk you home,” he said
She hesitated, smiled then nodded and they walked together in silence for a moment then she stopped and removed a key from her bag. “Thanks,” she said.
Henry looked up at the building, which was a hostel and laughed. “Not much of a walk home. Not much of a home by the look of it either. Look, I’m staying at the ‘Excelsior’ in town why don’t you join me for a nightcap and a bite to eat?”
At first, he thought she was going to refuse but she narrowed her eyes in consideration, quickly popped the key back into her handbag and said, “Why not?”
It was a night he’d neve
r forget. Henry had slept with his fair share of women, some beautiful, some not so but none had excited him like Evie Wallis. She was insatiable, and adorable. In the morning Buster Norman saw them leaving Henry’s room together and whispered, “You sly dog. No one told me we were playing.”
Out of Evie’s hearing Henry mouthed, “We’re not,” leaving Buster with his mouth hanging open.
Afterwards, she slept in his hotel room every night until the final game and the photograph was taken and later he was caught up in a round of publicity and lost contact with her. Soon after, the English team returned to London, amid a blaze of photographers and media interest and Evie Wallis became a memory.
He remembered that she’d mentioned she would be travelling around South America on a year out before she started her college course and he had intended to look her up but the team was now in great demand and his good intention evaporated. Then he met Josie. It was at the return fixture in Buenos Aires the following year that the accident happened, resulting in him ending up in hospital with legs that refused to move. It was the beginning of a new life - the end of an old one.
From then on Evie Wallis became a treasured memory he would retrieve from time to time, when the result of his accident became too much to bear. It helped him to remember what it was like to feel the thrill of their lovemaking - his energetic days of sheer abandon when he’d lived for the minute.
Lost in thoughts of her made him relive the pleasure of being young, fit and free. And it would all have remained a treasured memory had Josie not returned from a shopping trip in town one day and announced, “I know who the new owners of River House are and guess what? It’s only an old school friend of mine, Evelyn Hope and her husband.”
At first, Henry didn’t associate Evelyn Hope with the girl he’d met in Buenos Aires. There was no reason why he should. But, shortly after Josie met their new neighbours, she organised a dinner party and the new owners of River House were invited along with Lucas and Leonora Bennett, the owners of the property adjacent to theirs. He recognized Evie at once, she had hardly changed and it was as much as he could do to greet Josie’s friend and her husband impassively, without acknowledging their previous acquaintance. Fortunately, Evie’s husband was good company and Henry was able to monopolise him for most of the evening in an attempt to avoid having to talk to her directly. He could see she’d recognized him by the way she glanced at him over the top of her wine glass, keeping her eyes fixed on his just a fraction longer than was necessary.
After dinner, his luck ran out. As he was returning from a sly smoke in the billiard room, she came towards him from the direction of the downstairs cloakroom. Standing in front of him, she leaned towards him and placed her hands on the arms of his chair. Then she bent forward so he could see the shape of her breasts beneath the top of her dress, and whispered, “Henry, we’ve got some time to make up, you and I.”
He felt his cheeks burning as Josie walked towards them. “Isn’t it amazing, darling; to have my very best school buddy living so close, I just can’t believe the coincidence. Evelyn and I haven’t seen each other for years.” She linked arms with her friend adding, “Now let’s sneak off to powder our noses and catch up on the gossip.”
“Amazing,” he murmured, through clenched teeth, when they were out of earshot.
Later that night, when he lay in bed alongside his wife, he began to think he’d imagined Evie’s obvious suggestion. He knew, as far as he and Josie were concerned, there was no question that he was able to perform his marital duties in the bedroom without too much difficulty but it might not have been an obvious assumption for Evie to make at first glance, considering his injuries. He began to wonder whether another connotation might be placed on her words, as in themselves they were pretty innocuous but it was the tone of her voice, which had set his heart racing.
It seemed that, after the party, Evie took every opportunity available to call when he was alone. She watched Josie’s movements like a hawk and used her friendship with Leonora Bennett as an alibi with her husband. In less than a month after the party, they became lovers and she was every bit as insatiable as he remembered.
She was meticulous in her deceit, making sure their meetings were noted in her diary. Henry was shocked when she told him, “What if your husband finds your diary? How will you explain so many sudden departures?” he asked.
She’d laughed, eager to explain to him the full extent of her cunning. He noticed a gleam of satisfaction in her eyes and something inside him twisted.
“I remembered your middle name. Do you remember how I laughed when I saw the Polo Cup? It’s simple Leonard dear. If I am meeting you then I write, meeting Leo. I’ve already started to call Leonora Bennett Leo, as a precaution, but when I’m meeting her, I write L.B. It’s so easy; my darling husband doesn’t suspect a thing. He doesn’t like Leonora very much so I take every opportunity to feed that dislike. It wouldn’t do to have them become too friendly with each other and compare notes about my non-existent shopping trips with her.”
It was convenient too, that Evie cut off her association with Josie, although Henry did feel pangs of guilt whenever Josie became distressed by her friend’s behaviour towards her. However, as time passed and in spite of his doubts, he became obsessed with her and longed for their meetings, which sometimes took place in a small hotel in London during afternoons when Josie thought he was visiting his Physiotherapist or calling in at his bank. These were the times when Evie used Leonora as her alibi.
But it was when she announced she was pregnant that alarm bells rang for Henry. She wanted to keep the baby. He tried to convince her that a baby would complicate their relationship but she said she knew the baby was his and it was why she wanted to keep it. Henry didn’t believe her and later found out he’d been right to suspect her of lying; she was already in the early stages of pregnancy when he’d met her.
His liaison with Evie was now turning into something more than merely the feeding of a pleasurable obsession. It was becoming a nuisance, in addition to which he feared discovery. The last thing he wanted was for it to destroy his marriage. He was terrified she’d tell Josie. She hinted at it often,
“How would Josie feel if I told her about us, Henry?”
“What if I told them all?”
“ Don’t you think it’s about time you made up your mind who you want, Henry?”
It was all getting too much. She wouldn’t listen. But somehow, he’d managed to persuade Evie to get rid of the baby. Initially she said no but when he’d produced the pills she’d gone along with it, to please him, she said the obligation hanging in her words – look what she was doing for him – what she was prepared to do to strengthen their relationship. He was beginning to feel she would do anything to feed her obsession with him.
Fortunately, for Henry he’d still kept in touch with Buster Norman who was a consultant Obstetrician in Charing Cross hospital. Buster was not happy about providing the Cervotab but Henry knew about Buster’s reliance on prescription drugs and could have destroyed his career should he haven chosen to do so. In the end Buster produced the pills, stressing that as far as he was concerned the transaction had never taken place.
The real trouble started after Evie’s miscarriage. Leonora went to Italy and Evelyn was unable to use her as an alibi in order to see him. She took chances, ringing him at odd times and he began to be afraid she’d become so indiscreet Josie would find out. Her behaviour became so erratic he felt he could no longer rely on her keeping her mouth shut. She threatened to tell her husband she wanted a divorce. Henry felt the like a fly trapped in a web, the more he struggled to escape the tighter the threads became.
The evening he and Josie visited River House for dinner had been the last straw. She’d flirted outrageously with him all evening and Henry began to be seriously concerned she’d wreck his marriage. He tried to think of ways to silence her but before he could decide what to do fate took a hand.
The weather was bad that night. He
nry was driving home. He cut his speed and drove slowly down the River Road, taking care to avoid the ice. He could see patches of light glistening on the icy surface in the reflection from the overhead street lamps when suddenly in front of him he saw Evie’s car turning out of the side road leading from the Bennetts’ house. He followed until he saw her car skidding on a patch of ice, before sliding across the road and hitting the lamppost head on.
Darkness fell on the road, as the lamps went out. In the light shining from his headlights he peered through the darkness to where the car had come to rest, then drove slowly towards it and drew up alongside. The lamp post lay across the bonnet and had sliced through the windscreen just missing Evie’s head, which was lying against the driver’s side window, her face was bleeding from the shards of flying glass and he noticed her hair was strewn with particles of glass, glistened like diamonds.
He wound down his window as she opened her eyes. “Henry, help me, please, help me. I’m trapped, it’s my legs.” Her voice was weak. She was pleading with him, her dark eyes closing as she drifted into unconsciousness. Her voice was quite unlike the last time he’d spoken to her, when she’d taunted him, threatening to tell Josie about their affair.
Picking up his metal crutch, which rested behind the front seat, Henry ignored the gleaming hair and the pleading voice as he leaned through the window, smashed the remaining glass in the pane resting against Evie’s head and using the rubber tip of the crutch pushed with all his strength until her head made contact with the lamppost.
When he was satisfied there was no possibility of her ever betraying him, he stretched across to her once more. It was fortunate he’d continued with his upper body exercises since the accident, otherwise he never would have had enough strength to force her over in her seat.