The Long Way Home: A moving saga of lost family

by Whitmee, Jeanne

  She arrived on a Friday afternoon at the end of the month. One of those mellow, golden summer’s end days when the sea is like a sheet of shimmering silver and the sun shines through a gauzy golden haze. She had changed her car and now drove a smart little red BMW cabriolet. She looked tanned and fit from a recent holiday in Greece, and almost the first thing Marie noticed was that she had had her hair cut. The long brown tresses were gone, giving way to a smart highlighted bob which made her look younger than her forty-five years.

  The two women hugged each other warmly and Marie took Hannah straight up to her room.

  ‘I thought you’d like this one,’ she said, throwing open the door. ‘It has a view of the sea.’

  ‘Oh, it’s beautiful.’ Hannah opened the window and took a deep breath. ‘You really have done wonders, haven’t you? What’s this — your fourth hotel?’

  Marie nodded. ‘Yes, but don’t let’s talk about business now. Tell me all your news. How’s your new job? And your holiday in Greece — did you have a good time? You look wonderful.’

  Hannah chatted for a while about her holiday and the new job she was about to return to in London. But as she spoke she was assessing her friend. Marie didn’t look well. She was too thin and there were dark smudges under her eyes.

  ‘That’s enough about me,’ she said at last. ‘Tell me about yourself. How’s David? You said he’d been ill.’

  ‘He’s fine now — living here with us as I told you. I insisted,’ Marie said. ‘Besides, he’s company for me, with Ralph away so much.’

  Hannah saw the shadow that clouded Marie’s eyes when she mentioned Ralph’s name.

  ‘Are you happy?’ she asked.

  ‘Yes, of course.’

  ‘Ralph certainly doesn’t seem to let the grass grow under his feet.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘And you — are you sure you’re not working too hard? You’re looking a little tired. Have you had a holiday this year?’

  ‘Good heavens, there’s no time for holidays. We haven’t been away since — since Italy, our honeymoon. No, I expect the refurbishment here and David’s illness has taken it out of me. I’ll be fine now that the season’s coming to a close.’ She walked to the door. ‘You’ll excuse me if I leave you to unpack, won’t you? Life gets hectic here around now. I’ll join you for dinner later, of course. Any of the waiters will show you to our table. Oh, and do have a drink first, won’t you? On the house, of course. I’ll join you if I can. ’Bye.’

  Hannah stood for a moment after she had gone. There was something wrong. Marie’s cheerfulness seemed forced. She told herself it was tiredness after the season, but the niggling doubt at the back of her mind refused to rest.

  After she’d unpacked and changed, Hannah went down to the bar. Marie did not appear but she got talking to a couple who had just checked in for a weekend visit. The man introduced himself and his wife as Mark and Barbara Summers and during the conversation Hannah learned that he had recently retired from the services and had just come out of hospital after surgery for injuries received during the Falklands War. She was still chatting to Mark and Barbara when Ralph walked into the bar. He greeted Hannah like an old friend, kissing her on both cheeks and turning his back pointedly on the couple she had been talking to. They moved discreetly away, making Hannah feel acutely embarrassed at Ralph’s boorish behaviour.

  Over the weekend Hannah felt that Ralph was putting on a special show for her benefit and was quite relieved to see him leave early on Monday morning. Over breakfast she noticed that Marie was quiet and later she excused herself, saying that she needed to work in the office for an hour. Hannah found her there later, opening and sorting mail. Tapping on the half-open door, she said: ‘Hello — can I come in?’

  Marie looked up. ‘Hannah! Of course you can. It’s the secretary’s day off today. That’s why I’m doing this. I’ve almost finished.’

  ‘I thought we might have a day out together. If you can spare the time, that is?’

  ‘Oh, that would be lovely.’ Marie reached quickly for a cardigan that hung over the back of her chair, hastily throwing it around her shoulders, but not before Hannah had glimpsed the livid bruises on her upper arms.

  ‘Have you hurt yourself?’

  Marie blushed scarlet. ‘No.’

  ‘But there — on your arms. Those bruises look nasty.’

  ‘Oh, that? I — bumped into something. I’m always doing it.’

  Hannah frowned but didn’t pursue the subject further. They asked David to go with them but he said he had a dental appointment. They took Hannah’s car and drove out to the New Forest, stopping for lunch at a quiet little pub. It was there, sitting outside in the late summer sunshine, that Hannah gently probed Marie about Ralph.

  ‘Are you sure everything’s all right between you and Ralph?’

  ‘I told you — yes.’

  ‘You’re happy?’

  ‘Of course. You never stop asking.’ Marie laughed, but Hannah noticed that she couldn’t quite meet her eyes.

  ‘I know I keep asking, and frankly, Marie, it’s because you look downright afraid of him,’ Hannah said in her forthright way. ‘And the bruises on your arm … they weren’t caused by bumping into anything, now were they?’

  Marie sighed. ‘He doesn’t mean to. Sometimes he’s — sometimes he gets …’

  ‘Violent?’

  Marie shook her head. ‘No. He’s just a little — excitable at times. He doesn’t seem to realise how strong he is.’

  Hannah was seriously worried now. ‘Has he always been like this with you?’

  ‘I suppose … no.’ Marie shook her head unhappily. ‘You shouldn’t be asking me these things. It’s private.’

  ‘I know. I’m sorry, Marie. But you don’t have to put up with that kind of thing, you know. A marriage certificate doesn’t give a man the right to abuse you.’

  ‘He doesn’t. Please — can we talk about something else?’

  The warm colour and the look of shame in the other woman’s eyes were revealing. Hannah had seen the same reaction so many times before in the battered wives she had dealt with. Reluctantly she let the subject drop but not before she’d covered Marie’s hand with hers and said: ‘Look, love, I’ll say this once again and then we’ll leave it. You don’t have to put up with it, you know. You don’t have to stay with him.’

  Marie said nothing for a moment. It was as if she was struggling with herself inwardly. Then she said in an almost inaudible voice, ‘And just where else do you suppose I’d go? This is the only home — the only work I know, Hannah. And I couldn’t leave David. He needs me.’

  ‘Does David know how things are?’

  ‘No.’ Marie looked up with an expression of appeal. ‘Please don’t say anything to him. He’s not strong. I don’t want him upset.’ She tried to smile, ‘It’ll work itself out, Hannah. Don’t worry.’

  ‘I’m always there if you need help,’ she said softly. ‘You know that, don’t you?’

  ‘Of course.’ Marie withdrew her hand, but her eyes were bright as she looked up. ‘And thanks. But I’ll be fine. Honestly.’

  *

  It was the same night, as Hannah was having a pre-dinner drink in the bar, that Mark Summers joined her. She turned to smile at him as he slid on to the bar stool next to hers.

  ‘Said I’d meet Babs in the lounge,’ he explained with a smile. ‘But you know how long they take.’

  She laughed. ‘I should do.’

  ‘Spotted you in here and thought I might as well join you.’ He ordered a gin and tonic, looking enquiringly at her. ‘What’s that you’re drinking?’

  She shook her head, holding up her glass. ‘I’m fine thanks. One’s my limit.’

  He paid for his drink and took a sip, looking hesitantly at her over the rim of the glass. ‘Look — I don’t know if I should say anything, but something’s been bothering me ever since Friday night.’

  She smiled. ‘Really? Anything I can help with?’


  ‘I wonder — it’s just — the man who joined you in here on Friday evening. Who is he?’

  ‘His name is Ralph Evans. His father owns this hotel.’

  The man’s eyebrows rose. ‘Really?’

  ‘What makes you ask?’

  ‘I know — or rather knew — him. It was quite a while ago. I had a job to place him at first. Even then I wasn’t sure. He’s changed quite a lot since I knew him.’

  ‘How long ago was it?’

  ‘Oh — must be all of seven years now.’ He rolled his glass between his hands, frowning as though trying to make up his mind about something, then he turned and looked at her. ‘Close friend of yours, is he? Know him well?’

  An intuitive caution stirred in the pit of Hannah’s stomach.

  ‘Not well,’ she said truthfully. ‘Hardly at all, in fact.’

  ‘But you knew he was in the army?’

  Hannah nodded. ‘Military Police, wasn’t it? That was before I met him though.’

  ‘Tell you his reason for leaving, did he?’

  ‘No.’

  He looked uncomfortable. ‘Look — maybe I should keep my big mouth shut. None of my business really. Babs is always telling me to keep my nose out of things that don’t concern me, but we’re leaving this evening and …’ He looked at her. ‘You’re obviously a nice woman and I wouldn’t like to see someone like you getting mixed up with his sort.’

  ‘Mr Summers, I think you’d better tell me,’ Hannah said quietly. ‘It sounds as though it’s something I should hear.’

  ‘I think so too.’ Mark took out a packet of cigarettes and offered it to Hannah. She shook her head but he lit one thoughtfully before he began: ‘I served with him in Northern Ireland. It was some years ago, as I said. I knew him only slightly — mainly through the case because I was on escort duty at the time. He certainly wouldn’t remember me.’

  Hannah frowned. ‘The case?’

  He nodded. ‘He was court martialled. Obviously, he never told you. Not surprising really.’

  ‘No. What was he in trouble for?’

  ‘Basically for being too handy with his fists; knocking prisoners around. Then there was an unsavoury business with a local girl. Apparently he beat her up quite badly. That was when things got serious. She accused him of passing information to …’ He looked at her. ‘Shall we say, a subversive organisation?’

  Hannah let out her breath in a silent whistle. ‘So — what was the outcome of the court martial? Was he found guilty?’

  ‘He got a longish sentence for the assault charge, but the girl’s accusations were never proved. There was insufficient evidence that he’d been an informer. After he’d served his sentence he came out of the army. He’d served his time and I imagine he was left in no doubt that it was time for a change of career.’ He looked at her. ‘I hope I haven’t put my foot in it?’

  Hannah finished her drink and looked at him. ‘On the contrary. I’m very grateful to you, Mr Summers. Thank you for being so open with me.’ She looked past him through the open bar doors into the lounge and smiled. ‘I think I can see your wife looking for you.’

  *

  ‘You mean to say you sat in the bar, discussing Ralph with one of the guests?’ Marie’s eyes were bright with anger and two spots of crimson flamed in her cheeks. ‘I don’t know how you have the gall to come to me and admit it.’

  ‘Please, don’t take it like this, Marie. I’m telling you as a friend.’

  Marie stood at the open window, her face stony as she faced Hannah. ‘A friend? Is that what you call yourself? It’s rubbish — all of it. The man’s a liar.’

  Hannah took a step towards her. ‘Don’t bury your head in the sand, Marie. Mark Summers wouldn’t have told me if it wasn’t true. Why should he make it all up?’

  ‘He was mistaken then. He must have taken Ralph for someone else.’

  ‘No, he didn’t. He remembered the name — everything. Marie, I’m telling you for your own good. I’m warning you, Ralph has a criminal record. He’s been in prison.’

  Marie spun round to face her. ‘And in case you’ve forgotten, so have I!’

  Hannah winced. ‘But you were innocent.’

  ‘How do you know that?’

  Hannah stared at her. ‘You were. I know you were.’ Suddenly she was afraid. ‘Marie — what’s the matter with you, for God’s sake?’

  ‘You say you know I was innocent, but you can’t know for sure, can you? Maybe Ralph was innocent too.’

  The two women stared at each other for a long moment. Marie’s eyes were like ice, cold and glittering, expressionless, and suddenly Hannah felt that she was looking into the face of a defiant stranger, someone too far away to reach. She said: ‘I think perhaps I should leave in the morning.’

  Marie shrugged. ‘That’s the most sensible thing you’ve said so far. I agree. I think you should go. But I must ask you to promise me one thing. Please don’t mention any of this to David.’

  ‘Of course I won’t. What do you take me for?’

  ‘I took you for a friend,’ Marie flung back at her. ‘I’m beginning to doubt it.’

  ‘Look, Marie, will you at least ask Ralph about it?’ Hannah pleaded.

  ‘If there was anything he wanted me to know he would have told me when I told him about my trouble,’ Marie said defiantly.

  Hannah stared at her. ‘You told him?’

  ‘About my conviction and going to prison. He believes in my innocence.’

  ‘So — he knows about the twins?’

  ‘No. Not that. I couldn’t bring myself to tell him that.’

  There was a pause as Hannah looked at her. ‘Look, if you believe he’s innocent, why not give him the chance to tell you so?’

  ‘I told you — no.’ But Marie shook her head, her face pale. ‘Why should I stir up a whole heap of trouble that no one can do anything about? We’re all right as we are. Just leave it alone, can’t you, Hannah?’

  ‘You’re afraid of him, aren’t you?’ Hannah shook her head. ‘Oh, Marie, don’t you see? I’m worried about you. That’s the only reason I’m telling you this. I don’t want to see anything bad happen to you.’

  ‘It won’t,’ Marie said, turning away. ‘Please, will you go now?’ She stood looking out of the window, her back towards Hannah. After a moment she heard the door open and quietly close behind her. Only then did she allow her shoulders to sag and the tears she’d held back to fall. She covered her face with her hands. ‘Oh, Mother of God help me,’ she prayed silently. ‘Please — tell me what to do.’

  Chapter 10

  When Terry answered the ring on his bell that night and went downstairs to open the door, he was more than a little surprised to find Leah standing outside.

  She picked up her suitcase and looked at him hopefully. ‘Can I come in?’

  ‘Of course you can. What’s happened?’ he asked, looking at the case.

  ‘I’ve left,’ she told him. ‘There was a row. I’m not going back, Terry — ever.’ She stood in the dark hallway looking up at him appealingly. ‘Terry, can I stay with you for a couple of days, please? Just till I sort out where I go from here.’

  ‘Here?’ He frowned. ‘Haven’t you got a girlfriend you could stay with?’

  ‘You know I haven’t — not one I could trust. All my old schoolfriends’ parents are friends of Jack and Hilary’s.’ She peered at him. ‘Why, is it a problem?’ Terry raked a hand through his hair. ‘Look, love, any other time it’d be fine, but I’ve had notice to quit the flat by this weekend. The building is coming down next week. I’ve got some holiday due to me so I’m going away tomorrow.’ Her forlorn look tugged at his heart. It was so unlike Leah to show the slightest hint of vulnerability. Something serious must have happened. Relenting, he reached out and took her suitcase. ‘Come upstairs, kid. We’ll talk about it over a coffee. You look as though you could do with a cup.’

  She climbed the three flights of stairs behind him and when they reached his top-floor room she c
losed the door firmly behind her and stood with her back against it.

  ‘Can I stay just for tonight then?’ she asked. ‘I wouldn’t ask but I haven’t got anywhere else to go. I’ll sleep on the floor — anywhere. And tomorrow I’ll be gone before you’re awake. I’ll get a train and go to London.’

  He sighed. ‘And just what do you think you’re going to do when you get there?’ he asked, switching on the kettle. ‘It’s a dicy business, you know, a girl of your age, alone in London.’

  She grinned mischievously. ‘Do you think the white slavers’ll get me? Terry, you’re a stuffy old fusspot. I’ll be all right. There are hostels for single girls, aren’t there?’

  ‘And do you know the addresses of any?’ He looked at her. ‘Before you set off I think you should make enquiries and organise yourself a bit better. You can’t just take off. You’re not nearly as grown up as you think, you know.’ He held out his hand for her coat and indicated his best chair. ‘Sit down and get it off your chest, whatever it is. Have a row with the folks, did you? I expect it’ll all have blown over by the morning.’

  ‘Not this time, it won’t.’ Leah threw herself down in the chair.

  ‘Serious, eh?’ He was busy spooning instant coffee into two mugs.

  ‘You could say that. I’ve been really stupid, Tel. I mean — really stupid.’

  He poured boiling water onto the coffee and added milk. ‘Well, I’m all ears if you want to unburden yourself.’

  Leah sipped the scalding coffee gratefully. ‘You won’t like me much when I tell you.’

  ‘Risk it,’ he said with a grin. ‘Nothing you could do would shock me.’ Or put me off you, he added to himself.

  ‘You might change your mind when you know what I did.’