The Long Way Home: A moving saga of lost family

by Whitmee, Jeanne

  ‘Okay — thanks, Bill.’ Leah sat staring at the door after he had gone. She’d no choice really. She had to have some kind of job and it really was a good opportunity. At least she could work hard and pay Bill back. She’d make a go of it or die in the attempt, she told herself determinedly. At least it was a chance to prove that she could do something.

  *

  It wasn’t until mid-morning that Marie had time to look at the papers. All morning as she went through her routine she wondered with a numb detachment how many more times she would plan menus with the chef, check supplies with the housekeeper and attend to all the other daily routine matters? How long before the loyal members of her staff must be given notice? How long before the doors of ‘The Ocean’ closed for the last time and the property was placed in the hands of trustees to be disposed of? It was a relief to go upstairs to the empty flat for her coffee break. Ralph was out and David had gone for a further talk to the solicitor. She made her single cup of coffee and carried it through to the living room. When she opened her copy of the Recorder and saw the photographs her heart contracted with shock. Who could possibly have got hold of all this information? Who was ‘Pandora’? It was all so long ago. She’d thought her story must be long forgotten, but it seemed she was to go on paying the price in spite of everything she had already sacrificed. With a sinking heart she read on:

  On her release from prison Marie O’Connor went into the hotel business, marrying her boss’s son a few years later. An odd twist of fate decreed that her husband Ralph was newly home from Northern Ireland where he had served with the military police. He, like so many others, must surely have believed in her innocence. Now together they own and run several hotels around the British coast; popular hotels that carry a reputation for luxury combined with personal service and a family atmosphere.

  Twenty years on, reunited with her daughters and established in her successful new life as a businesswoman, Marie is living proof that it is possible to overcome the worst of disasters.

  She closed the paper with a sigh. This was the last straw — all she needed just now. Could this Pandora person know what anguish it would cause her, or the harm it could do to the business? She’d be viewed very differently by staff and guests alike now that her past life had been laid bare for all to see. Did any of these people give a damn about the result of their work? Surely they should have asked her first for permission to print this kind of information about her?

  The secret she had kept from Ralph all these years was out in the open now. It was only a matter of time before he picked up this paper and read about it. What would his reaction be then? Marie sighed resignedly. What did it matter any more? Their lives were falling apart anyway. There was nothing more he could do to hurt her, and Evans Hotels were finished too now that he’d bankrupted them. None of it mattered really. Then her heart plummeted as she remembered Philip. What anyone else thought didn’t really matter — but Philip … She valued his opinion of her. And the girls — Leah and Sarah. They’d never forgive her for drawing this kind of attention on them. She laid her head down on her folded arms. I might as well have died in prison, she told herself despairingly. I’m never going to shake off the stigma of my conviction — never going to be able to prove my innocence. I’ll never get to know my daughters now.

  *

  Ralph had spent the morning driving round, waiting for the pubs to open. If ever he had needed a drink it was this morning. The past few days had been trying in the extreme, testing his nerve almost to breaking point. The sooner all this could be got through and he could make his escape, the better he would like it. He thought of the coming weeks. He would have to part with the Merc and a few of the other luxuries he had become accustomed to, but that was a small price to pay for the future he had planned. The thought buoyed him up. Warm sunshine and a life of leisure, money in his pocket to spend as he chose. Not long to wait now.

  There had been times when he had seriously questioned if it was all worth it. David Evans, the man he’d called Father all these years, was nothing more than a boring old fart, and Marie had gone from placid compliance, irritating him sorely with her sanctimonious whining, to stubborn defiance. There’d been a time when he could control her. One smack across her quivering mouth had been enough to stop her nonsense in the early days. He had to admit that there had been times when he’d enjoyed bullying her into line. But more recently she’d started standing up to him. Instead of bowing under his dominance, she seemed to have become stronger. No doubt wheedling her way successfully into a firm promise of the old man’s money had given her a feeling of security.

  In the bar of his favourite hostelry he sat alone with a double whiskey. He’d acquired a taste for Irish during his service days. He tipped back his head and relished its fiery solace, feeling it slide smoothly down his dry throat, warm and relax his jangled nerves. The corners of his mouth lifted in a smile at the thought of Marie buttering up David to get what she could out of the old fool when all the time he’d been there before her, milking the business for all it was worth. The thought of the money, salted away out of harm’s way, wanned him. He liked the picture of Marie wheedling and cajoling away for nothing. It was rich; something to remember and savour in the years to come. They’d be all right, those two. The solicitor had said that they wouldn’t be left destitute. And she was still young and fit enough to earn a living for them both. They deserved each other. Bloody good luck to them.

  The bar was almost empty but someone had left a newspaper on the table where he sat. He drew it towards him and began to leaf through the pages. The Recorder. A popular paper though not one he normally read. But he was bored enough this morning to have read the telephone directory if there’d been one handy. When he got to the centre pages he paused. The photograph of the fair-haired woman looked a bit like Marie. He looked closer, frowning. It was Marie — twenty years ago when she was a very young girl. What the hell was it doing in the paper? Surely they couldn’t have got wind of the bankruptcy.

  Leaning forward, he began to read rapidly. So they’d dug up the stuff about her prison sentence? But the bit about her having twins by the bloke who’d ditched her-that was news to him. His eyes narrowed as he wondered just how much of this story his father knew. No wonder he’d been so keen to get the two of them hitched. God, but they’d taken him for a mug.

  He read on — about the bomb found in her suitcase and her arrest on a charge of ‘conspiracy to cause an explosion’. He shook his head, speculating on how much he could have squeezed out of a newspaper if only he’d thought of selling the story.

  It seemed that Marie had protested all through that she was innocent — that she’d been the victim of a plot to cause an explosion. All through the trial she’d persistently named a man, but her alleged lover could not be traced and it was believed that the man she named as Liam Costello was a figment of the girl’s imagination, dreamed up in the hope of procuring a sympathetic acquittal. Ralph laughed to himself. A likely story. He began to wish he’d used his knowledge of her terrorist connections to bring her into line earlier.

  Then suddenly a thought occurred to him and the sneer left his face. He sat back in his chair, one finger nervously loosening his collar. Marie couldn’t have picked a worse time to get herself into the papers. Before you could say ‘knife’ some nosey sod of a journalist would be sniffing round his past too. Knowing how deep they were capable of digging, it wouldn’t be long before the finger of suspicion would point in the direction of his business practices. And that wasn’t all. He felt the sweat break out under his collar as another, more sinister thought occurred to him. Suppose some of this Costello’s cronies began to get touchy? Suppose they found that he — the former Sergeant Ralph Evans — had married Costello’s woman?

  Shaken, he bought himself another double whiskey and returned to his corner to think. There might well be old scores to settle. Costello understandably hadn’t come forward at the time. Presumably there’d been more at stake for hi
m than the discovery of a few pounds of explosive in a suitcase.

  Ralph’s face took on the colour of putty as his imagination worked overtime. Clearly the time had come to make himself scarce. He’d intended to brazen it out — see the bankruptcy through as though everything was above board. He was pretty sure he’d cooked the books convincingly. At least he was confident that nothing could be proved. He’d cleverly planned to come out of it with his name clean, even with a few quid to spare. But this newspaper article changed all that. He couldn’t afford to hang around now and wait for the press to make mincemeat of him. His lying bitch of a wife and the old man were going to have to battle it out on their own. But he couldn’t just disappear. He chewed his lower lip. What to do and how to make it look convincing enough to keep them all off his back — that was the question.

  He tossed back the remainder of his drink and ordered another. Then in a flash of inspiration the idea came to him. Of course, why hadn’t he thought of it before? He’d use the Merc. He smiled to himself, the irony of the idea appealing to him. It was a fitting twist. After all, if he couldn’t have it, why should they?

  *

  When Sally saw Hannah coming up the ward that afternoon along with the other visitors, her heart sank. She'd promised to leave her alone. What did she want now? Then she saw that Hannah was not alone and her heart missed a beat. Behind her, walking on tiptoe as though they were in church, came Mavis and Ken Payne. Speechless, she stared at Hannah, then at her parents as they reached her bed to stand awkwardly at the foot. Ken was the first to speak.

  ‘Sally, love. Why on earth didn’t you tell us?’ There was no hint of reproach in his voice but the wounded look in his eyes brought a lump to Sally’s throat. ‘Couldn’t you trust us not to fly off the handle at you? Did you think we’d blame you?’

  Mavis said nothing but her eyes spoke volumes. The hurt and disappointment she had felt since reading the newspaper article showed clearly in them, but in spite of this she pushed Ken impatiently out of the way and stepped up to Sally.

  ‘How are you feeling then, lovie?’ she asked gently. Hannah had told her the shocking news about Sally’s operation. Contemplating a life of childlessness was something Mavis knew all about. She bent and kissed her daughter, giving her a motherly hug. ‘Don’t you worry about it any more, lovie. Your daddy and I are going to take that little baby home and bring him up ourselves. He’s not to go to strangers — not your little son.’

  Dumbfounded, Sally stared into Mavis’s eyes. How did they know? How had they found out? Had Hannah told them after all? Suddenly all the resentment and the blame she had attached to them evaporated. The joy and relief of seeing them — touching them — of having them here with her after all these months overwhelmed her. Tears of weakness poured down her cheeks.

  ‘Mum — oh, Mum!’ was all she could mutter as she clung to Mavis. Ken moved to the other side of the bed and joined in the embrace.

  ‘There, there, pet. Don’t take on like that. You’ll have me at it in a minute.’

  Hannah quietly pulled the curtains round the bed and withdrew, leaving them to have their reunion in private.

  When the emotion of the moment had subsided and Mavis sat in the chair provided for visitors, dabbing at her puffy eyes, Ken drew the tightly folded paper out of his pocket.

  ‘This is how we found out, love, in case you’re wondering,’ he explained. ‘I don’t suppose you’ve had the chance to see it.’ He spread the centre sheet of the Recorder on the bed in front of Sally and she read, her eyes growing round with astonishment. Did Leah know about Marie’s past? If she did she had never mentioned it. According to what the newspaper article said, Marie Evans had overcome her disastrous past and now had everything she wanted from life. Obviously she had had second thoughts about taking up with the daughter she had long since given away.

  ‘You can carry on with your work if you’ll only come home,’ Mavis was saying. ‘You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.’ She smiled. ‘I expect you thought we’d insist that Jason married you?’

  Sally stared at them in dismay. ‘Jason? But Jason wasn’t — isn’t — the baby’s father.’

  Mavis’s jaw dropped with surprise.

  ‘But he was so fond of you,’ Ken said. ‘He asked you to marry him, didn’t he?’

  ‘Yes, he did, but he knew the truth of it. He was just being kind. I couldn’t let him. You do see that?’

  Mavis was frowning. ‘Well then, who …?’ Slowly and painfully, Sally told them about the night of Sharon’s party. She owed them the truth. There must be no more lies. ‘I deceived you,’ she said softly. ‘But it was because I felt smothered — overprotected. All the same, I shouldn’t have gone to Sharon’s without telling you.’

  ‘I never liked that girl,’ Mavis muttered. ‘Always said no good would come of knocking around with her kind.’

  ‘You shouldn’t have left home without telling us what it was all about either,’ Ken said sadly.

  ‘If I’d stayed it would have been awful for you, Dad,’ Sally said. ‘The shame would have half killed you. There’d have been all your friends at Chapel to face — the neighbours. I wanted to save you that. I wanted to handle it on my own. I thought I could, at the time. Later, I wasn’t so sure.’

  ‘Silly girl. There’s not the stigma there used to be,’ Ken said dismissively. ‘This sort of thing happens all the time nowadays. Anyway, as if we care about any of them. What matters is that we’ve obviously failed you, and we want you to come home so that we can make it up to you.’

  Mavis was frowning at what she saw as Ken’s over-indulgent reaction. ‘You did do wrong, Sally,’ she put in with a shake of her head. ‘There’s no getting away from that.’ She gave Ken a reproachful look. ‘But you’ve paid a terrible price for it. Like Daddy says, we want to help you start again.’ She leaned forward to take Sally’s hand. ‘We’ve been to St Mary’s to see the baby. You didn’t really want to give him up, did you?’

  Sally shook her head, her eyes brimming. ‘Everyone seems to think I’m hard, but it isn’t that. There seemed no other way. I didn’t see how I could manage to keep us both on what I earn. It would have been such a miserable existence for both of us.’

  ‘He’s lovely, Sally,’ Mavis told her. ‘The image of you were when you were tiny. I can’t wait to get him home and love him. He’s had such a sorry start, poor little mite. What do you say? Will you let us take him? Will you come too?’

  Sally considered. ‘What I’d like is to keep my job here and maybe come home for weekends. Is that all right?’

  Ken patted her shoulder. ‘Of course it is, love. Just as long as you know it’s your home, you can come whenever you like.’

  That decided, Mavis considered that she could safely mention what had been nagging at her ever since she had read the article. ‘It says in the paper that you’ve been reunited with your mother and sister,’ she said.

  Sally nodded. ‘Yes, Leah got in touch with me when I came to London. We’ve seen each other a couple of times. She invited me to her place for Christmas and I was there when the baby started. I don’t really know what I would have done without her.’ She paused, trying to assess their reaction. ‘Marie — my natural mother — came later, after the baby was born. Leah was so against me giving the baby up for adoption and when I wouldn’t listen she asked Marie to try to persuade me to keep him.’

  ‘So we gathered from the paper.’ Mavis and Ken exchanged glances. ‘What was she like?’ Mavis asked, unable to contain her curiosity. What must a woman who had mixed with terrorists and been in prison be like? She couldn’t possibly imagine. All she hoped was that Sally had made no plans to see the woman again.

  Sally smiled. ‘She was nice, and very kind. She didn’t try to persuade me either way. She really understood how I felt.’ She covered Mavis’s hand with hers. ‘But she was a stranger, Mum. That’s all she’ll ever be, a stranger.’

  *

  Leah and Bill sat opposite each
other at the kitchen table. He had laid his plan before her in some detail.

  ‘I could take out a mortgage in my name. I’d get one easily. This house is mine, you see, my parents left it to me. Or, alternatively, I could sell it and buy Bella’s outright. These houses are very popular nowadays. The agents can’t get enough of them. After all, there’s quite a large flat over the restaurant, isn’t there?’

  Leah’s heart sank. Was that to be a condition — that he moved in with her? Better to get it out of the way once and for all. ‘I’m sorry, Bill,’ she said. ‘But if that’s part of the deal you can count me out.’

  ‘Okay, okay.’ He held up his hands. ‘It was only an idea. What I was planning was to give up my job once the restaurant was established and help you run it. If I’m to do that it would seem to make more sense if I sold this place.’

  ‘But suppose it didn’t work out?’ Leah said. ‘Wouldn’t it be better to keep your house on for a while, just in case? You could always let the rooms to help with the overheads.’

  ‘I suppose you’re right.’ He looked at her. ‘We would be partners though, wouldn’t we?’

  ‘Business partners, yes,’ Leah said guardedly. ‘Nothing else, Bill.’

  He studied her face thoughtfully for a minute. ‘This business with Terry has hit you hard, hasn’t it?’

  ‘I suppose it has.’

  ‘I always knew you were in love with him,’ he said a little ruefully. ‘Even if you didn’t know it yourself.’

  ‘If I was, it’s over,’ she told him firmly. ‘There’ll be no more men in my life. I’m sick of them if you want to know.’ She stopped to smile at him apologetically. ‘Present company excepted, of course.’

  He shrugged good-naturedly. ‘Maybe it’s a father figure you’re looking for. And much as I hate the idea, I’m old enough to be it, I suppose.’

  ‘I’ve had two fathers already, thanks,’ she said. ‘The first one tried to have me blown up before I’d even seen the light of day and the second one despised me simply for being me. I don’t think I’ll be looking for any more fathers.’