Chance-met Stranger

by Oliver, Marina

  'Is it likely? Was he related to her?'

  'No, but his father married Aunt Jane's sister, so he knew her. She always said he was the most obnoxious little brat.'

  He sat on one of the chairs by the kitchen table and absentmindedly began to nibble a piece of cold toast. 'So it's highly unlikely she'd favour him.'

  'No. She never liked him.'

  'Is it possible he had some hold over her?'

  Janie shook her head. 'Of course not! She lived a blameless life, there were no scandals, nothing like that.'

  'Nor connected with anyone else she might want to protect?'

  'She had no relatives.'

  Liz laughed suddenly. 'There was only you yourself, Janie.'

  'That's ridiculous! And for heaven's sake go and get dressed!'

  Liz flounced off, muttering.

  Manuel ignored her. 'Do you believe he could have a paper of some sort? A letter, perhaps, if not a will?'

  'If he has, it must be a fake. But it would be expensive to try and prove it in the courts.'

  'Which he knows, and is trying to con you into giving up your inheritance. And Liz? What had you promised her?'

  'Well, to help her, of course. Manuel, what else can I do? I'm older, I have the money to help, and I feel responsible for her!'

  'You could let her grow up! That would be real help. She'll never become a responsible adult while she has you to come to her rescue. It was idiotic of her to take the car – '

  'Perhaps. And I agree with you, as it happens. But it's too late now to wish she hadn't,' Janie interrupted.

  Manuel nodded. 'OK, but she was criminally foolish to drive without insurance.'

  'She didn't know about that! Why should she? If a friend lent you a car when you were desperate, would you insult him by asking whether the insurance had been paid?'

  'It would depend on how much I trusted my friend. I doubt ignorance will save her. And when did she find out?'

  'When this man Mike came to take away the car and he told her.'

  'And he was the one who let her drive it, knowing that? Wasn't that irresponsible of him?'

  'Yes, of course it was.'

  'Where is the car now?

  'Apparently Mike repairs cars, so it's in his workshop somewhere in Bristol.'

  'Didn't the police want to examine it?'

  'I understand not. Surely, as no one was seriously hurt, they wouldn't bother?'

  'It depends on whether they charge Liz with careless driving, I suppose. If they do, they may want to see if the car was roadworthy before they throw other charges at her.'

  Janie groaned. 'I was hoping Mike had got it wrong, and perhaps Terry had sorted the insurance after all.'

  'That's still possible, though I suspect unlikely, from what I've heard.'

  'I agree, knowing the sort of people Liz gets mixed up with. But that's not her fault.'

  'Of course it is. She ought to have more sense. She looks the irresponsible sort who'd trust anyone she met without a second thought.'

  'As I did you!' Janie reminded him. 'Was I irresponsible too? Letting you take away my furniture? And a carpet you said was valuable? Which you still have.'

  'That was different. You were desperate and I'm not a crook like these so-called friends of hers.'

  'You don't know that.'

  'Not for sure. But she was probably driving dangerously! You shouldn't have to bail her out. None of that's your responsibility.'

  'She's my sister!'

  'She's her own person, Janie. I didn't think you were a fool, but I'm beginning to alter my opinion,' he said, standing up. 'Let her sort out her own messes. She's quite old enough, she doesn't need nannying.'

  She turned away, fighting down her anger at his lack of sympathy for her sister. Deep down Janie knew he was right, but she wouldn't admit it.

  'Then perhaps you'd better go.' She forced herself to look at him. 'I was grateful for your help, but the fact you helped me yesterday doesn't give you the right to interfere with my life.'

  He gazed at her for a long moment, and then swung on his heel and left the flat. Janie, trembling, closed her eyes and waited for the door to crash home, but he closed it gently, and she thought that showed more implacable anger than if he'd slammed it hard.

  Liz came into the kitchen. 'Yum, that coffee smells good. We can only ever afford the cheapest instant. Where's Manuel? He's rather dishy, isn't he? Where did you find him?'

  'He's gone,' Janie said shortly. 'He helped me move my furniture yesterday, and was still here when you phoned. That's all.' She saw no reason to tell Liz they'd been out to dinner together. That was over.

  'I thought he was going to help me sort things out, talk to the police and so on.'

  'Well, he's not, not now.' Janie thought of something which had puzzled her earlier. 'Brian said you were at the same New Year party. I didn't know you were still in touch with him.'

  'I'm not, but he knows people in Bristol too. It was where I met Terry.'

  'Brian knows Terry?' Janie frowned. She didn't like the sound of this.

  'I don't know, there were dozens of people there. What does it matter, anyway?'

  'They sound the same sort of people, that's all.'

  'You never did like my friends!'

  Liz appeared to have recovered her composure, and Janie could feel her own temper rising. It had always been the same. Liz attracted trouble, but as soon as she had passed on the mess to someone else, she reverted to her usual cheerful, uncaring self. As a child their parents had always come to the rescue, but now they were living in Malta Janie had taken their place, just there to pick up the pieces and make it all better for her little sister.

  She was highly tempted to wash her hands of Liz's problems. Then she rejected the thought. Whatever happened, she couldn't do that.

  'I'd better ring the police and tell them where you are, or they'll think you've absconded,' she said wearily. 'What's their number?'

  For a wonder Liz had it written down in her diary, and Janie was soon talking to the duty sergeant.

  'She'll be here when you want her, officer, but please understand, she's terrified of Terry Hughes, the man whose car she wrecked. Please don't tell him or Mike Bowcott where she is. Hughes can be violent, and she doesn't feel safe at home. What else do I have to do?'

  Liz was flicking through a magazine. 'Don't you have anything but these nursing things?' she asked when Janie put down the phone. 'They're boring.'

  'Just be thankful you're not in intensive care, depending on nurses, and that the man you ran into wasn't killed.'

  'Well, I'm not and he wasn't. Stop being such a wet blanket.'

  Janie gritted her teeth and tried to speak calmly. 'The police will want to talk to you soon, the sergeant said. And he wants to know the address of Mike's workshop.'

  'Why? It's nothing to do with them.'

  'Of course it is! They probably want to see it.'

  'It was none of it my fault! Terry should have insured the car, and if that idiot hadn't swerved in front of me I wouldn't have crashed.'

  'The address, Liz!'

  Reluctantly Liz told her and Janie relayed the information to the police as Liz stormed out of the room, saying she had had enough of being blamed and questioned and harrassed.

  Janie could tolerate no more either, She followed Liz into the bedroom.

  'I'm going out. Don't let anybody into the flat, don't even answer the door, and don't answer the phone. You'd better stay in the bedroom or the kitchen, out of sight. Terry might find out about me and come here after you,' she added, seeing Liz about to refuse.

  'Oh, all right, but he can't know your new address, even if he finds out I have a sister.'

  'I wouldn't be too sure he couldn't find out. He may know Brian.'

  'But he can't know Brian is a sort of cousin.'

  Janie prayed for patience, and took her bag. She meant to visit the dealer who had bought her old dresser, and try to discover the truth of what Brian had said
. She couldn't believe Aunt Jane would have left anything to him, she'd always said what an obnoxious little boy he'd been, and an even worse man, but she had to check it out before she defied him to do his worst.

  The shop, no more than a series of ancient sheds and lean-tos, was in a side street, and crammed full of old, and mainly tatty furniture. The elderly man in charge greeted her without enthusiasm and waved his hand.

  'Look round, Missee, and if there's anything you like, I'll be in me office at the back.'

  'I don't want to buy anything. I sold you a dresser a week ago, and I heard some papers had been found in it. Is that true?'

  He shrugged. 'There was a bit of a fuss, but I don't know no details. You'll have ter come back when the boss is here.'

  'When will that be?'

  'How should I know? He don't tell me where he goes.'

  'Is there anyone else here? A secretary, someone to answer the phone, make appointments, keep the books?' It was a forlorn hope, but to her surprise he gestured to a house across the road.

  'You could try his missus. She'll be back from shopping be now.'

  Janie thanked him and crossed the road. After several rings on the bell which went unanswered, probably because of the volume of the TV in the front room, she knocked loudly on the thin panels of the door. A raucous voice answered.

  'I'm comin', don't knock the door down!' The door opened and a wizened little woman peered out. 'What is it?'

  Janie explained again, and to her dismay saw the woman beginning to nod.

  'Yes, there was somethin', Bert said. A long envelope, with papers inside. But I didn't see it, an' I don't know what was in it.'

  'Who found it?' she asked.

  'Can't say. But Bert said it had some name on it. An' he said he knew the feller, so he give him a bell, an' the chap come over.'

  She could tell Janie no more, and Janie retreated to a nearby coffee shop to think about it. It proved nothing, she realised. The woman hadn't seen the discovery, if there had been one, and Janie was positive there had been no envelope in the dresser. It could have been planted, by Brian or one of his dubious acquaintances. And even if Bert had actually seen the envelope being found, she would continue to disbelieve it was genuine.

  How could she discover who the man was who had found it, or was supposed to have done so? She was pondering this question when someone sat down opposite her. Looking up, she saw Christine Harker, glaring at her with undisguised hostility.

  Janie stared back. They'd never been friends, so why had Christine bothered to join her? There were plenty of empty tables.

  'What were you doing at Bert's?' the girl asked.

  'Is it any of your business?'

  'Might be. I was walking past and saw you there nosing about. I wondered If you were trying to check up on me and Brian. But you won't. The will's the real thing, properly written and witnessed. The cottage belongs to Brian by rights.'

  'The cottage won't be there tomorrow.'

  'No, but Brian would have put up more of a fight, got bigger compensation from the council. You've cheated him of that, but you won't get away with it.'

  ***

  Chapter 4

  On the way back home Janie was thinking hard. Could it have been Christine who had discovered the will? Or pretended to. The fake will, she hastily amended, since she could not believe that Aunt Jane would have changed her mind, and left all her property to Brian, a man she detested.

  She had to speak to Bert. She swung round and went back to the sale room, but he was still not there, and the elderly man told her with some relish that he wasn't likely to be back until late that night.

  'House clearance,' he told her. 'Try again tomorrow.'

  There was nothing more she could do here, and plenty that needed doing at home, telephone calls to make to Rosa and to find a solicitor to help Liz. She began to walk slowly back to the flat. Surely Liz could get legal aid? Maybe she ought to consult people who knew. Manuel had appeared to know what to do, she thought, yet why should a man who had lived most of his life elsewhere, in another country, and worked for a removal company, know about such matters?

  Firmly she dismissed thoughts of him from her mind. That was over. He'd been helpful, and she'd enjoyed her evening with him, but he had no right to criticize her sister, even if in her heart she agreed with what he'd said. She couldn't abandon Liz, though it meant giving up her own dreams of a home she owned.

  A home she owned if Brian's will proved to be false. That was something else she needed to deal with. She swung round again, and went back to the office of the solicitor who had drawn up Aunt Jane's will and dealt with the sale of the cottage. He'd tell her what to do.

  He was out, but she made an appointment to see him the following day, and finally managed to go back home before she thought of other things which had to be done.

  Liz was talking on the phone, and waved to Janie as she entered the sitting room. 'Hi.'

  'Who's that?' Janie demanded. 'I said not to answer the phone.'

  'It's OK. I rang Rosa. She says Terry got back early this morning, had a lift straight after the party ended in the small hours, and as soon as he heard about the car he was banging on the door of the flat, waking up all the neighbours. Rosa had to let him search the whole flat before he'd believe I wasn't there. And he went round talking to the people in the flat next to us.'

  'Let me talk to her.' Reluctantly Liz handed over the receiver. 'Go and make some sandwiches for lunch, Liz.'

  Liz pouted, but went into the kitchen. Janie closed the door after her, then spoke quietly into the telephone.

  ' Now, Rosa, it's me, Janie. Is Terry really dangerous?'

  'I think he could be,' Rose said seriously. 'He almost broke our door down, he was so mad with rage. But he at least had the sense not to start on me. We don't have a coal fire, but I do have an old poker which made him hesitate.'

  Janie grinned. Rosa was resourceful, and could clearly look after herself.

  'I told him Liz was in hospital,' she was saying.

  Janie groaned. 'I hope he doesn't cause too much trouble! We have enough violent patients without him too!'

  'I know, and I'm sorry, but at least they won't let him in. It seemed the best way to stall him. I didn't say which hospital, and it'll take him a couple of days to go to all of them and find out she isn't in any, I hope. By then he might have calmed down. She didn't sound too scared.'

  'You know my sister! But some people know she isn't in hospital. Terry's flatmate, I suppose, since she rang his place and this man took away the car.'

  'If he comes back to argue I'll say she had a relapse and went back for observation.'

  'Will he take it out on you?'

  'Not while I have my poker! Besides, I've asked my brother and a couple of his friends to stay in the flat for a few days. They all play rugger, so I don't think Terry will get the better of them!'

  Janie rang off, feeling that at least Rosa would be safe from reprisals, but what she had said about Terry confirmed that Liz was right to be afraid. Well, he was unlikely to trace her here.

  Liz came back in with sandwiches, and afterwards Janie made an appointment for them to talk to someone at the Citizens' Advice Bureau later that afternoon. On the way she called again at the second-hand shop, but Bert had still not appeared.

  Later, reassured that Liz would have proper legal advice if she were prosecuted, they stopped for tea and scones at a small café in the town centre, then shopped for food and strolled home. They were both tired, and after a couple of hours watching programmes that held not the slightest interest for them, switched off the television and went to bed. This time Liz offered to sleep on the settee, and Janie was so exhausted after her move and the problems of the day she didn't protest, but went thankfully to her own comfortable bed.

  She slept late, and woke with a start. As she realised it was someone knocking on the front door which had disturbed her, she dragged on her robe and glanced at her bedside clock. It was a
fter eight.

  Liz, her hair tangled and her eyes wide with fright, rushed into the bedroom. 'It's Terry! It must be! Janie, what shall we do?'

  'Stand by the phone, ready to dial 999,' Janie said, trying to stay calm. A pity she didn't have a poker, like Rosa. She slipped into the kitchen and picked up her largest carving knife, than went cautiously to the door. The knocking was insistent, but didn't seem violent.

  'Who is it?' she demanded, not opening the door.

  'Manuel. Are you ever going to let me in?'

  He sounded coldly furious. Janie frowned. She hadn't expected to see him again, so what could he want? Cautiously she slipped on the chain and opened the door, and her heart gave a sudden lurch. He was dressed in black jeans and a thin white sweater which emphasised his dark good looks. He looked more incredibly handsome than she recalled.

  'What do you want?' she asked.

  'To talk, in a civilised fashion. You can put that away,' he added, gesturing to the knife she held before her.

  'We thought it might be Terry,' Janie explained when she had removed the chain and let Manuel in.

  'So he knows where you are, does he?' Manuel said, turning angrily towards Liz, who cowered away from him, clutching the long tee shirt she slept in to her body. 'I suppose you rang him to tell him?'

  'No, of course I didn't!' Liz protested.

  'But he knows something and I want to know how!'

  'Look, calm down!' Janie said. 'You woke us up, and we can't talk like this. You know where the kitchen is, Manuel, how about making a pot of coffee while we dress?'

  'That would be less distracting than having you both in your nightwear,' he said, and for a moment an amused gleam showed in his eyes.

  'I'll use the bathroom first,' Janie told Liz firmly, seeing her sister begin to sidle towards it. Liz always took hours. 'Move all your stuff, and the bedclothes, into the bedroom. Then we can at least sit on the settee.'

  She didn't wait to see Liz's reaction, but went into the bathroom and shut the door behind her, thankful for a few minutes of solitude to gather her thoughts. As she stood under the shower she tried to work out, from Manuel's angry words, what he meant. Terry couldn't know where Liz was, for if he did, surely he'd have come to her flat by now? Yet Manuel had implied that Terry knew something. What? And how was Manuel involved?