The Bloodline Will

by A B Morgan

  Stopping Crystal mid-rant by grabbing her scrawny forearm, Ella pulled her close. ‘Don’t. They’ll say you’re paranoid and give you more medication,’ she whispered. ‘Let’s just go quietly.’

  Raising an apologetic smile, Ella led Crystal towards the exit, making lame excuses, distracting the two disapproving staff members. ‘Sorry, it’s been a long day… difficult. We’re hungry and maybe a cup of tea will help, you know, pick up the sugar levels a bit. Crystal’s dying for a cigarette and she’s a bit crotchety.’

  Ella was gabbling and Crystal appeared to guess that it was mostly to stop her from interrupting and making matters worse. She didn’t say another word until they arrived at the dining area where Meg was waiting anxiously at a table and beckoned for them to join her.

  ‘That new agency nurse won’t be coming back for a second shift.’

  ‘Why? What did we miss?’ Crystal asked, taking a seat next to Meg and sliding a wafer biscuit from a small plate placed between them. Ella sat opposite the pair, keen to hear the news.

  ‘I was shuffling past the witch’s office with Celeste,’ Meg said. ‘The door was open quite a way. There was the new girl, that agency nurse, in a proper state she was. Crying. Shaking.’

  ‘Isla,’ Ella said, reminding herself of the girl’s name. ‘Go on.’

  ‘Well, I couldn’t make out exactly what the problem was, but something happened with snooty Abigail and she wanted Dr Yellnow to report it to the police. There was a ghostly man in there with them, skinny like a beanpole. White skin, like he was already dead.’

  ‘So, you think you saw a ghost?’ Crystal asked, paying more attention to the biscuit in her hand than to what Meg was reporting. She looked across at Ella who was weighing up the chances of Meg’s tale being clouded by hallucinations.

  ‘I’m not really a hundred per cent on that one,’ Meg conceded. ‘He could’ve been a ghost. He spoke in a posh accent, but I only saw half of him.’

  ‘Great. Half a ghost,’ Crystal scoffed.

  ‘When he spoke, what did he say?’ Ella asked, kindly.

  ‘Now then, that’s where it gets a bit difficult. Geoffrey was giving me no end of grief at the time and I couldn’t hear everything what the ghost man said, he just sounded posh like. He was furious and asked the girl for her full name. I remember that. He threatened to report her to the nursing agency for insubordination.’

  ‘Just out of interest, what was her surname?’ Ella asked.

  ‘Don’t know. Can’t remember that either.’

  ‘What happened next?’ Ella prodded.

  ‘The old witch fobbed her off by saying Abigail was under assessment and in the best place and all that bollocks, but this girl was adamant. Just before the door slammed, I heard the ghost man tell her she was being paid to do her job and she should keep patient details private … and that he would take her to court if she didn’t.’

  Almost laughing, Ella said, ‘Two aces, Crystal. Two aces.’ Her eyes shone with sheer delight. ‘I can make Konrad Neale squirm in his expensive underpants with that little beauty. If Meg is right, then I’m willing to bet my last lipstick that the ghost man was Guy Nithercott.’

  Crystal shrugged. ‘Whoever, the fuck he is when he’s at home.’

  CHAPTER SIX

  The Nithercotts discuss matters

  Guy Nithercott preferred to stand by the window; it gave him psychological advantage. Abigail knew this well enough as she sat poised in a bedside chair. The door to her hospital room was closed and they were alone together. ‘How long did she spend with Konrad Neale?’ Guy asked. On the surface his manner was business-like, but Abigail could sense his concern and need of assurance.

  ‘About fifteen, twenty minutes, that’s all. She came back as the bingo finished and tidied up the room with that spiteful harridan Crystal.’

  ‘He saw you. Sandra Yellnow said he asked about you.’

  ‘So, it worked then?’

  ‘As far as he’s concerned it did. The arrogant fool took the bait – hook, line, and sinker. More importantly, does the girl know who you are?’

  ‘Ella? She’s too intelligent not to. She’s already started the predictable befriending efforts.’

  ‘And you need to let this particular girl do just that. Take an interest in her and remember to accidentally share with her your apparent infatuation with you-know-who. Give her just enough to make her suspicious.’

  With his habit of treating her as if her intelligence had been surgically removed, Abigail bit back. ‘There’s no need for you to keep on and on, Guy. I know what the plan is. I’ve already done what’s necessary. I told you, they all think I’m here because I’m as warped as the roof of an ancient barn. That stupid doctor of yours has even given me another diagnosis. She’s useless. Always has been.’

  ‘She’s been very accommodating,’ he chided.

  ‘Accommodating? She was the one who recommended a hysterectomy as a way of solving all our problems. Three miscarriages and she couldn’t for the life of her work out why I became depressed.’ Abigail spoke as if she were reporting a trifling annoyance. ‘I suppose it suited our needs,’ she concluded. Her dark thoughts and feelings of loss were buried deep, but now and again they threatened to surface. This was one such moment.

  Guy cocked his head at her. ‘Dr Yellnow may well have saved you from unnecessary heartache and she’s very discreet because she has to be. Your new agency nurse, however, was somewhat of a handful.’ A vertical furrow appeared on his forehead. ‘You went too far, and she threatened to report your behaviour to the police. She reckons you’re dangerous, my darling.’

  Abigail released a sardonic smile, glad to have a distraction. ‘Me? I was only having fun. I hardly touched the girl.’

  ‘There was no need to go poking at her with your blasted knitting needles,’ he snapped.

  Abigail looked at her feet, preventing Guy from seeing the joy on her face. Prodding the girl had been irresistible. ‘It wasn’t my fault. She misunderstood. Will she take the story about me being here to the press before Konrad Neale has a chance to?’

  Guy stared hard at the top of her head. ‘Did she know about Konrad Neale being here?’ he asked.

  ‘Everyone knew he was here today,’ she said, daring to look up. ‘The talk was of nothing else.’

  Guy tensed at the remark. ‘That man deserves what’s coming to him, and your principled nurse cannot be allowed the opportunity to forewarn him in any way whatsoever.’

  ‘I could find a way to keep her quiet.’ Abigail said this so sweetly it sounded like a kindly offer.

  ‘No, you leave things to me, please. This has to be handled very delicately because...’ Guy widened his nostrils, ‘because your Plain Jane frumpy nurse from the agency goes by the name of Isla Renfrew.’

  There was a moment of frozen panic on Abigail’s face as she recognised the name. ‘Oh God, you don’t think she’s—’

  ‘Yes, I do. Just as we always feared, one of your damned parents must’ve slipped up after all these years. Why would she be here if not for you? If it was an innocent coincidence, then why didn’t she disclose who she was?’

  Abigail stared absently at Guy, her mind churning, thinking back. ‘She could be little Isla, I suppose. Come to think of it, I haven’t seen her parents since she was a small child. But then as you say, if she was our Isla Renfrew she would’ve said so.’

  ‘I’m not prepared to take the gamble, so I’ve asked MacDonald to make enquiries and if it turns out to be the case that she’s nosing around after the truth, then we shall take the necessary action.’

  Abigail took a few seconds, pushing at the cuticle of one thumb with the pointed nail of the other. ‘Ordinarily I would agree with you about eliminating her as a risk, but is it completely necessary to dispense with the girl? Can’t you just pay her off?’

  ‘Did I say anything about dispensing with her? What the hell are you suggesting, Abigail?’ She had picked up her knitting again. It helped her to remain calm.
‘Are you listening to me?’ He tipped her chin. ‘You are not to give instructions to MacDonald without my say-so.’

  ‘Would I do such a thing?’ Abigail puckered a small kiss.

  ‘Yes, you would,’ Guy replied, tapping her on the nose before standing straight again. ‘You could be right about money though. Maybe she’ll approach us directly… But who’s to say she’s not working for Channel 7 or for Konrad Neale as a research assistant, trying to expose the secrets hidden by her own family? Now that makes much more sense.’ Guy turned his disconcerted face to the window.

  ‘It wouldn’t surprise me if she was in Konrad’s pocket. That man is a persistent blight on our lives, he never gives up and I’ve had enough.’ He fingered the collar of his shirt. ‘We have a right to privacy and what goes on in our personal lives should not become public business just because Konrad Neale says so.’

  At this, Guy began to patrol the room, his rangy limbs wooden with annoyance. ‘Would he bother if we were ordinary folk? No. But inherit a fortune and earn a few million on top out of determination and financial risk taking… and boom you are the subject of endless interest.’

  Abigail sat upright, not taking her eyes from Guy while she dextrously completed a row of fine stitches. She tried to reason with him. ‘Oh, come on. It’s more than the money. This family invites curiosity. You practically revel in it, spreading ridiculous rumours about cryogenic chambers, germophobia, and your penchant for tantric sex.’

  She let out a short-lived laugh. ‘The press loved that one. It gives you the greatest satisfaction to dangle tiny morsels of intrigue in front of the few journalists who have the backbone to persist in seeking out the real story. You only throw them scraps so you can keep them where you can see them.’

  Guy lunged forward, placing his hands on either arm of the chair he pushed his face into hers. ‘Be very careful, my love. You almost made it sound like a bad thing. Control is good, ordered, manageable and powerful. It is something to be taken and kept – like you are. It is not for sharing.’

  His voice was low and menacing. His kiss was hard and demanding. ‘Remember, Abigail, “together forever or not at all”, that’s what we promised each other.’

  How could she possibly forget?

  He stood again.

  ‘Now get your things, you’re coming home for a long weekend. Doctor’s orders.’

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Exposing a lie

  Konrad sauntered into the workshop at Ribble’s Garage. To the rear of the building, his oldest friend Barney had his head wedged under the bonnet of a vintage tractor.

  ‘Thought I might find you in here. I couldn’t get an answer from the door.’

  ‘You won’t, will you, Cyclops. Fat Club started at six o’clock down at the village hall. They left well over an hour ago, old mucka.’ Barney stood up with a loud grunt and placed a pudgy finger to his lips for a second before speaking again. ‘Don’t tell Netty, but I said I’d an urgent job to finish, so I couldn’t make it tonight.’ He wedged his spade-like hands onto his hips and arched his spine, wincing as he did so.

  ‘What’s up? Bad back?’

  Barney let out a long sigh. ‘I wish I’d never agreed to this. Reducing my food intake is tough enough, but going to the gym… never again, mate, never again.’ He shook his head ruefully. ‘I’m stiff in all the wrong places.’

  Konrad stifled a laugh and tried to appear sympathetic. ‘Oh yes, it’s coming back to me now. Russell-with-the-muscles put you through your paces yesterday, did he?’

  ‘Paces? I don’t have any pace, as well you know, old pal. I only went along because it was a free trial, and because Netty said I had to. She did her best, bless her, but the pair of us came perilously close to pegging out when he put us on one of those treadmill things.’

  Barney stared wistfully at the tractor engine for few moments, tutting. ‘Don’t be offended, but we won’t be taking up your offer of temporary gym membership. We had a good chat and muscly Russell reckons we should start our fitness regime with something less likely to induce cardiac arrest. We’ve ordered some of those walking poles.’

  ‘Netty’s idea?’ Konrad managed to ask without his face breaking into a wide grin of ridicule.

  ‘Yes, Nordic sodding walking. Can you believe it? I’m going to look like a right berk. Going to Weight Watchers was her idea as well, but she’ll have to drag me there or poke me in the arse with one of her walking poles. It’s not for me. It’s hardly my fault my metabolism is a bit on the slow side,’ he added.

  Barney’s beer gut was an overhang of notable proportion. He raised it and allowed it to fall silently back into place with a wobble. The poppers on his oil-stained overalls sprang open under the strain.

  Hanging his head, Konrad exclaimed, ‘Of course! I forgot all about Weight Watchers. That’s where Lorna was dashing off to. Not that she needs to lose any weight. I was getting worried when she didn’t come back.’

  ‘I can’t tell you how grateful I am to Lorna for agreeing to go along with Netty,’ Barney continued, ignoring Konrad’s ruminations. ‘My wife has taken the doctor’s advice very seriously, but I’d rather pretend to be on a diet. Want to go for a pint? If we’re quick I can ram a couple of bags of crisps and some pig lumps into my gob before we get caught.’

  Konrad gave Barney a sheepish grin. ‘Lorna might not be too chuffed if we skulk off to the pub. I upset her earlier.’

  Closing the bonnet of the tractor with a metallic rattle, Barney raised his head and narrowed his eyes. ‘Yes, you inconsiderate oaf.’

  ‘She mentioned it then?’

  ‘In a manner of speaking.’

  ‘Such as?’

  ‘Such as referring to you as a thoughtless selfish twat.’ Barney scratched his chin. ‘Or words to that effect.’ He dragged an old rag from the workbench and rubbed his hands with it. ‘She can spot your lies from a mile off. She reckons you’re hiding something about that psychiatrist. Something you failed to tell her. So, she’s going on a mission to find out for herself before she goes to see Ella. She’s got a soft spot for that girl.’

  ‘Tell me about it…’ Konrad checked the old clock on the wall nearby. ‘What time will they get back?’

  ‘Any second now,’ Barney said, a smile widening.

  Konrad followed his gaze and saw Lorna and Netty strolling along the pavement, heading towards Ribble’s Garage forecourt, chatting amicably. Lorna was taking easy strides, whereas her breathless companion waddled along, shorter fatter legs preventing her from doing otherwise. Netty’s jovial face lit up when she spotted Barney ambling towards them, Konrad several paces behind.

  ‘According to their scales I’ve already lost two kilos in a week.’

  ‘Well done, wife. Admirable,’ Barney beamed. ‘Must’ve been all that sweating we did yesterday. Was it alright then? Fat Club?’

  Taking his chances, Konrad opened his arms as he approached Lorna. ‘Hello, love, forgiven me yet?’

  She managed a crooked smile and allowed the welcoming embrace before stepping back. Placing his hands on her shoulders, Konrad made a sincere apology. ‘You’re right. I’m selfish and I’m inconsiderate, but I do love you and I love your enquiring mind, your sense of justice and your determination. I hadn’t realised how much work was required for the course you were on and I hold my hands up to being completely unaware of how much it means to you to help Ella. I’ll support you and Ella as much as I possibly can.’ He waited, and within an instant he felt his wife relax a little. When she spoke, he knew he was in the clear.

  ‘Promise?’ she said. ‘You can’t interfere. You can’t railroad Ella into spying for you either, and you’ll do as I ask if I need your help?’

  ‘Yes, promise. This is your mission. I’ve done my bit. She’ll have nothing more to do with me anyway, so over to you. When do you plan to visit?’

  ‘As soon as you’ve told me the truth about Doctor Sandra Yellnow.’

  Netty and Barney were heading through the door t
o their house, attached to the large workshop. Konrad called out, ‘Oi, Barney. What about the pub?’ A question which earned Barney a slap across the shoulder from Netty.

  ‘Did you agree to that?’ she yelled. ‘Well, did you? We said we’d cut down on trips to the pub, and as soon as you see his lordship over there, you immediately plan—’

  ‘My fault, Netty.’ Konrad’s deep voice rang out across the forecourt. He released Lorna from his hold and grabbed her by one hand. ‘We thought you might like to join us for dinner. Light salad? Low calorie tonic?’ He saw Netty’s resolve crumble.

  ‘Oh, go on then, if you insist. But no peanuts for starters.’ She rounded on Barney and caught him giving a crafty thumbs-up to his friend. ‘I mean it, boy. Now get in the shower.’ She waved towards Konrad and Lorna. ‘We’ll join you as soon as Slim Jim here has cleaned up a bit. Twenty minutes, max.’

  That gave plenty of time for Konrad to share his most recent findings with Lorna. ‘I thought you’d gone off in a huff. I forgot about Weight Watchers. Sorry, my sweet. I’ve been so preoccupied by this stalker thing.’

  Lorna squeezed his hand as they strolled along towards the old village pub, The Valiant Soldier. ‘I still think you’re up to something,’ she said. ‘In your usual underhand way, you’re trying to fob me off with a mystery about this consultant psychiatrist, but there’s bound to be something else. It can’t be that simple. I just haven’t worked it out yet.’

  Konrad laughed at her. ‘When you hear what I have to say, you can decide for yourself.’ He then commenced a detailed explanation about how, while she was with Netty at Fat Club, he’d made a concerted effort to begin his investigations into St Cuthbert’s Hospital. And more specifically how the resident consultant could be allowed to house private patients in the same facility as NHS patients. Not only to accommodate them there, but to bring in private nursing care.