The mystery was solved, then. The bear had been kept merely as a convenient hiding-place for Daniel`s letters. But why hide them at all, if they contained nothing incriminating? Battling guilt, she had to force herself to read them -- it did not feel right to be prying into something Tom had taken such pains to conceal.
The first letter was simply to establish that Daniel had got in touch with the right person. "If you are the man who helped my mother so much, please write back, as I`d like to tell you how she got on after she left Newcastle."
The second contained more news of Eleanor. "She got married again while we were living in Bexhill. Joe seemed like a good bloke at first, but after we moved to London he was always short of money. Mum used to let him have loans, till she realised he was spending the money on another woman. Joe swore he`d given his fancy-piece up, but when Mum had her accident and he realised she`d never get better, he legged-it over the horizon with her jewellery and all the loose cash in the house."
Eleanor had not had much luck with men, it seemed - her second husband must`ve been just as much of a rat as the first. To Sylvia, contemplating re-marriage, it was a sobering thought – what if Ray turns out to be like that? -- not all men are like Tom. But then again, exactly what had Tom been like? The passage of time made his actions no easier to understand.
The third missive, dated almost three years later than the others, was very different to the others, a chilling masterpiece of recrimination. "Dad`s turned up here, but I expect you knew that already. What was the idea of letting him know where we live? As if Mum hasn`t had enough, with Joe bunking-off, you just had to let Dad get back into the act, didn`t you? When she refused to go back and live with him, he hit her again, just like in the old days." No wonder she left him, Sylvia thought – men like that are nothing but a waste of space.
Daniel`s bitter diatribe continued relentlessly. "After paying out all that money, having the flat converted for her as a disabled person, we`ll have to move again. She`ll never feel safe here, now Dad knows where we are. I hate you and I never want to hear from you again."
Tom had presumably written back, denying Danny`s allegation, for the last letter was remarkable only for its brief clarity. "Rot in hell, you bastard, I don`t believe you."
Sylvia struggled to make sense of the truncated communications. Surely, if Tom had helped Eleanor to make up her mind to escape, he wouldn`t have been stupid enough to betray her new address? -- there must be some mistake. The wonder was that, after receiving such an unpleasant letter, Tom had still left him the money. It`s more than I would`ve done, she thought – I`ve got a good mind to contest it, and make sure he never gets the chance to benefit from what Tom gave him.
Alarm-bells rang in her mind. When she and Eleanor talked to each other at the Charter House, what had the woman said about leaving Robert Franks behind in Newcastle – "We`ve never seen him from that day to this." Evidently she had lied, but for no obvious reason. Why couldn`t she tell me the truth, even now? -- will I ever get to the bottom of this business? -- I hoped once I`d met Eleanor it would be all sorted out, but it isn`t.
Once more she put pen to paper, addressing Daniel`s mother rather more bluntly than previously. "I`ve just found letters from Danny which make it obvious Robert Franks came to see you after you left Newcastle. Why did you tell me you`d never set eyes on him since you moved away? Danny`s blaming Tom, so I need to know the truth – did my husband tell Robert where you were?"
While she waited for a reply, her friendship with Raymond Hood blossomed. A trip to the cinema, another concert, meals at her home and his. He lived in Gosforth, in a rambling Victorian terrace-house bought for a song two years ago, and was modernising it in his spare time. `It`ll be lovely when it`s finished,` she said, sensing that her opinion mattered to him.
His face lit up on realising she shared his vision. `One thing I`m not sure about, though, is how to decorate and furnish it. Do you know much about that sort of thing, Sylvia?`
His question struck a chord. Tom had always refused her plea that the museum-flat might be furnished in sympathy with the period when it was built. (`I manage a museum. I don`t want to live in one,` he said whenever she brought up the possibility.) But being in Raymond`s home brought on a feeling of deja-vu. The faded grandeur of its high-ceilinged rooms were too reminiscent of the museum-flat -- if Ray does get serious, I don`t know whether I could ever live here.
Overcoming her mixed feelings, she succumbed to the chance to influence its decor. `I might be able to give you a few ideas, if it wouldn`t be too pushy of me.`
`Push as much as you like,` he reassured her. `I haven`t a clue what`ll suit these rooms, and it really matters to me that you should like the house.`
It matters because he sees me living here, she thought, scolding herself for being too previous. Ray had not invited her to move in with him yet, and perhaps never would – I could do with waiting till I`m asked, before I start worrying about what answer I`ll give. `
Three weeks later, when Sylvia had almost given up hope of hearing from Eleanor Harrison, her reply turned up on the doormat. "I`m sorry I didn`t tell the whole truth when we met, but it would`ve looked as if I was miscalling Tom. And with him being not-long dead, I didn`t want to upset you any more than necessary."
Very public-spirited of you, Sylvia thought sarcastically, reading on. Robert Franks had met Tom by accident three years ago, and asked if anyone at the museum ever heard from Eleanor. "Robert begged and pleaded, insisting he wanted to make up for the past by taking care of me. He swore he`d changed his ways, and would do anything to be allowed to meet Danny."
In the mistaken belief that Eleanor`s ex-husband was genuinely sorry for his bad conduct, Tom had given him her new address. "When Robert turned up, boasting about how easy it had been to find me, I felt like crowning Tom. Hearing me say how let-down I felt must`ve turned Danny against him. I never knew he had written a letter like that to Tom, though, and I wish he hadn`t, but I can well imagine how Tom fell for the story. Robert always could charm the birds off the trees, if he had a mind."
The reply, though civil, had one or two curious features about it. While Eleanor denied any wish to speak ill of the dead, a hint of censoriousness intruded in places . ("I felt like crowning Tom . . ..Robert always could charm the birds off the trees.") The implication that Tom had been a gullible fool was all too obvious. ("Hearing me say how let-down I felt must`ve turned Danny against him.") Did Eleanor still hold a grudge against Tom? She might not be as sorry about Danny`s letter as she professed to be. Had she lied through shame about the hurtful tone of his missive? Or because such written evidence of a serious rift between Tom and Danny might give Sylvia grounds for contesting the Will and depriving the boy of his inheritance?
While she was trying to decide between the alternatives, Patty called in. `Hi, Mam. I hope I`m not stopping you doing anything, but it`s Cathy`s first day at the playgroup, and I can`t get her off my mind. Daft, isn`t it? You`d think I would be glad of a bit of peace-and-quiet.`
Sylvia laughed reminiscently. `It`s just like when they start school, isn`t it? – you go out, and spend the whole time feeling as though you`ve left something behind somewhere, but can`t think what it is. Didn`t you have to stay with her there for a while? Folks used to.`
`It wasn`t me that took her. The twins were playing-up, so my neighbour said Cathy could go with her and her little lad. I`m going to do my share of helping on Monday, but I thought I`d better tell you the news.`
`What`s the matter?` Sylvia was suddenly aware of how tired Patty looked. She had not had a holiday last year, owing to the birth of the twins, and was probably in need of a rest.
The truth was more than that. `You know all that chestinesss and colds our Cathy gets? The doctor says she`s got to have her tonsils out.`
`Ah, poor little soul!` Sylvia reached out to squeeze Patty`s hand. `It`s a shame, but it`ll be worth it in the long run, sooner than her getting these chest-infections. When are they doing it?`
/> `We`ve got to wait for a letter from the hospital. I know it`s nowt these days, and I`m daft for worrying, but . . `
`Mothers do worry. It goes with the job, and you`ll never grow out of it.` The thought reminded her of what else was missing. `Where`s the Terrible Twosome?`
`With Edgar`s auntie. She stopped-over, last night. She`d been away with a church-trip, and the bus broke-down, so they didn`t get back to Newcastle till yon-time. She`s too nervous to go in the house by herself at that time of night, so she got a taxi to Ours. Edgar`s on the Southampton run, so he wasn`t here to take her back, and I couldn`t leave the kids in by their-selves.`
`It`s come in handy, you calling anyway,` Sylvia said. `Put your feet up while you`ve got the chance, and I`ll make us some coffee. And I`ll give you that bear while you`re here.`
`What bear?` Patty had evidently forgotten Cathy`s discovery.
`The one she found in my cupboard, that I thought must be Lost Property from the museum. It wasn`t. Apparently your Dad bought it for Eleanor Franks to give Daniel, but she wouldn`t take it.`
`Dad bought it? What on earth for?` Sylvia`s explanation about Robert Franks`s jealousy brought a frown to Patty`s face. `That seems a bit fishy, to me. Are you sure that`s all there was to it, Mam?` Clearly she had begun to harbour much the same suspicions as her mother`s.
`I keep telling myself it`s true, mainly because I want it to be. What`s the alternative?`
Unable to frame a tactful reply, Patty dropped the subject as the kettle came to the boil. While they sipped their drinks, Sylvia mentioned her attempt to mend the stitching on the bear`s back, and the letter she had found inside. `The more I find out about this business, the less I understand. Read them, and see what you think.`
Perusal of Danny`s missives brought an angry flush to Patty`s face. `Of all the damned cheek! He doesn`t deserve Dad`s money, sending a letter like that. You should go to Law with him, and get it back.`
`I certainly felt like it when I read that last one. But quite honestly, I can`t afford to. What if I lost the case? I`d have to pay the costs, and I just don`t have enough money to risk that.`
`It`s not fair!` Patty stormed. `I wish to God we could win the Pools, and we`d give you the money to fight it.`
`Even winning the Pools might not be enough, pet. If Daniel decided to defend the action, the costs could run into six-figures. It`s a kind thought, but I couldn`t possibly take it. If Edgar ever does win the Pools, you enjoy spending it on yourselves. I`ve never had your dad`s money, so I`ll never miss it. With my Widow`s Benefit and my little job, I get by.`
`You should be able to do more than just Get By,` Patty protested. `Whatever was Dad thinking of? Sometimes it makes me almost hate him, when I see you living in this place.`
Sylvia felt tears welling up again at the effect her news had had. `Oh, Patty! Don`t say that!` He might`ve played me an awful trick, but he always loved Dee and you and the kids. I don`t want you turning against him on my account.` To move the conversation away from the dangerous topic, she changed the subject. `How are the pups doing? Are they ready yet?`
Patty pulled a face. `More than ready, if you ask me. The place`s overrun with them. Why, do you want one?`
`In here?` Sylvia glanced round the tiny flat, laughing at the notion. `We`d break our necks, falling over one-another. I could put a card in the paper-shop window for you, though, if you want rid of them.`
When Patty had gone home, Sylvia wrote details of the puppies on a postcard and walked down to the paper-shop with it. Mrs. Marshall had just put the kettle on, and invited her to stay for a cup of tea, delaying her by a good half-hour. On re-entering the flat, Sylvia found an envelope on the doormat and picked it up curiously.
Raymond must have called while she was out, for the note was from him, enclosing a door-key. "Dear Sylv. Could you possibly do me a favour and come over to the house tomorrow afternoon, please? The new gas-fire isn`t working properly. The fitter can only come then, and I`m at an area-meeting I can`t get out of. Sorry it`s such short notice, but I`ll take you out for a meal when I get back. You might as well hang on to the key, so you can get in again if you want to.`
That he should have suggested she keep a key to his house was another step-forward in their relationship, she realised. Sooner or later, a decision must be made -- spending time in the house on my own might help me to decide how I feel about it -- perhaps I could get used to it if I tried. Though the conversion was not yet finished, the place already had a homely atmosphere, and being there for an afternoon would give her the chance to tour the rooms and plan the decoration-schemes about which he had asked her advice.
She arrived at the Gosforth house just after twelve. Since Raymond had forgotten to say what time the gas-fitter was expected, it would be just as well to be early. To occupy her time while she waited, she embarked on a leisurely examination of the rooms. He had brought a book of wallpaper-patterns home to study, and she perused the designs, making notes of a few she thought he might like to consider using.
Shortly before two, the sound of a vehicle stopping nearby signalled the gas fitter`s arrival, and she let him in quickly, out of the pouring rain. `I`m afraid I don`t know exactly what`s wrong with the fire. Did Mr. Hood explain?`
`Aye.` The man knelt by the hearth, and opened his tool box to begin work. `I don`t think it`s much. It only wants adjusting, by the sound of it.`
`Can I get you a cup of tea? Sylvia asked, and brought it in just as he was packing up again. `That was quick work. Is there anything to pay?`
`No, hinny, it`s all covered under the guarantee.` Tasting his drink, the man nodded gratefully. `Thanks very much. You make a damn sight better tea than Mrs. Hood.`
`What?` Sylvia felt herself do a double-take, and hoped the man had not noticed.
`Like dishwater, that lot last week was. She could do with a few lessons off-you. Missus.`
`You`re welcome.` Sylvia hoped he could not tell how surprised she was. Mrs. Hood . . . was here last week . . . what the devil is he talking about? According to Raymond, his wife had been out of the picture for many years, but there seemed no reason for the gas-fitter to make up such a story.
Aware that he was speaking to her again, she pulled herself together to listen to his question. `Have they heard yet how the bairn is?`
`What bairn?`
`Her grand-daughter was having to gan into hospital, and I just wondered how she had got-on.`
`When was all this?` Raymond had never mentioned that the child was ill, which seemed curious, considering he had been so keen for Sylvia to choose a present for the little girl at Christmas.
`Last week, when I came to fit the fire.`
`Are you sure it was Mrs. Hood?`
`Oh, aye. That`s who she sayed she was, anyway.` He was looking at her quizzically, as if wondering why she knew so little of the man whose house she was in. When he had left, she came back into the lounge and sat on the sofa , trying to make sense of what she had heard.
All along she had wondered whether this second-chance at love was too good to be true, and warned herself against making too hasty a commitment to a future with Raymond. Could her trust in him be misplaced? - I can`t possibly go out with him tonight - I need time to think.
She scribbled a note pleading a previous engagement, locked up the house, pushed the key through the letterbox and headed for home.
SIXTEEN
Raymond came over to the flat that evening, bringing his house-key with him. `You didn`t take it home with you.`
`I wasn`t sure if you`d still want me to have it.`
`What do you mean? Of course I want you to have it.`
The moment could be put off no longer. `How`s your grand-daughter? Is she any better?`
He looked slightly confused. `Better?`
`She`s not been well, has she?`
He sounded more puzzled than ever. `Have you heard something I haven`t. Did Jamie or Rachael ring while you were at the house?`
`No. The gas-fitter told me.` Ta
king a deep breath, she began the confrontation that might mean the end of all her hopes, but must be faced. `He said Mrs. Hood mentioned it last week, when he came to fit the fire.`
`Mrs. Hood?` Surprise and laughter mingled in his eyes. `What`s she got to do with you not keeping the key?`
`I didn`t know there still was a Mrs. Hood.`
Something appeared to be amusing him mightily. `Actually, there`s three.`
`Three!` Sylvia`s senses swam, forcing her to sit down hastily. `I don`t understand.` Her lips felt as if they had frozen, making the words come out awkwardly, and he sat down beside her at once, laughter replaced by concern.
`Sylvia, love, I`m sorry. I was just teasing, but I can see I`ve given you a shock.`.
`Shock? You can say that again. Have their really been three Mrs. Hoods before?`
`Not only have been, there still are.` As she made to pull away, he reached out to take her hands. `Mrs. Hood Number One is my mother – over eighty, but still going strong. Number Two`s my son`s wife Rachael. And Number Three`s my sister-in-law Audrey -- she`s the one the gas-fitter spoke to. She was at the house when they installed the fire, but she couldn`t be there today because she was down-to-play in a bowls-tournament. That`s why I had to fall-back on you at such short notice.`
Sylvia began to laugh too, that hysterical tearful laughter that had so alarmed her in the past. Raymond, looking keenly into her face, seemed at last to grasp the problem. `You thought it was Georgina, didn`t you?`
She could not meet his eyes. `I didn`t know what to think. When he said about your grand-daughter, I felt certain . . .`
`Audrey has got a granddaughter. So have I. It`s sheer coincidence that our grandchildren are both girls.` He placed one arm round Sylvia`s shoulders and stroked the backs of her fingers in a gesture of comfort. `Don`t ever worry about Georgina. Like I told you, she`s right out of the picture. In fact, I heard through friends that she got married again about five years ago and went to live in Devon, so she`s not likely to show up round here any more.` He paused for a moment, before placing his fingers beneath Sylvia`s chin and tilting her face towards him. `Would you have been upset if it had been her?`
A Long Road Through The Night Page 20