Lethal Ties

by Christmas, Helen

  He caught her gaze in the rear view mirror. “Where are we going then?”

  “A nice country pub with a beer garden,” she enlightened him. “You’ll love it! It’s very remote but no one will know us there, and hopefully we can talk.”

  She didn’t need to say more. Mentally running through the police reports, he had tied his mind up in knots wondering what to say to Sam. But all the while they were driving, he drank in the landscape, a patchwork of greens and browns.

  Then at last she slowed down, the road twisting sharply where a traditional looking pub awaited them. Joe smiled, drinking in the exterior, while Maisie squeezed her car into a parking space.

  “Do you think he’s here yet?” he said.

  She glanced around, guiding them into the garden to find a picnic bench.

  But as if in answer to his question, it wasn’t long before a shadow fell across their table, prompting him to look up.

  “Well, talk of the devil,” he grinned, squeezing Jess’s hand.

  “Sam!” Maisie gasped.

  She looked ecstatic, he thought, unable to tear his eyes away as Sam strolled over to embrace her. Sam briefly smiled at Jess before turning his attention to Joe. Grasping him by the hand, he observed him fondly, his frame blocking out the sunlight.

  “How are you doing, mate?”

  “Good, thanks,” Joe nodded. “Now what d’you want to drink?”

  “Let me get the first round,” he insisted.

  “I’ll come with you,” Maisie offered. “I was on my way to the bar anyway, to let them know we’ve arrived.”

  By the time they returned, the tables were filling up fast, leaving Joe thankful she had booked one. Gazing across the beer garden, he admired the flint wall surrounding it, the lawn fully enclosed with neatly trimmed bushes and overflowing flower pots. Maisie had chosen well.

  “I’ve brought menus,” she piped up. “It might be an idea to order soon, it’s getting busy in there...”

  As her words trailed off, he could not help but notice the flush in her cheeks. Sam lowered their pints to the table then plonked himself opposite, as slick and confident as he’d appeared on their first meeting. Slipping off his suede jacket, he slung it over the bench and took a tentative sip of his pint.

  “Good brew,” he commented with a nod in Joe’s direction. “Now tell me what you’ve been up to since I saw you last.”

  As if to break the ice, the conversation revolved around work. Eyes glazing over, Joe had little to add, thinking how mundane his supermarket job must seem next to their high-status careers... until eventually the topic fizzled out. Thank God.

  Next they ordered lunch.

  Everyone chose a traditional Sunday roast, apart from Maisie who fancied scampi and chips. But all the while he had been observing Sam’s face, his mind burned with questions, and he was no longer in the mood for small talk.

  “Well, here we are again,” he said, tapping glasses, “three kids from a care home, not to forget the lovely Jess of course, and a story finally being investigated. There’s just one little snag though. The bastard responsible ain’t been caught yet, so where do we go from here?” His eyes pierced into Sam’s. “Your memories seem sharp, looking back. Sharper than mine. But don’t you wonder why none of this was reported before? ‘Cos that’s what really bothers me.”

  Sam’s brown eyes flickered in Jess’s direction.

  “Don’t worry, I ain’t told her nothing sensitive, but we couldn’t help wondering why those homes closed down.”

  “I thought I-I explained,” Sam faltered, “I told the authorities everything but that was before my father took me away. What else do you want to know?”

  “Dunno really. We were friends, weren’t we? I thought we were inseparable. We might have only known each other a few months, Sam, but we had a hell of a lot of history. You’d think we might have talked a bit more about it.”

  Sam’s face tightened. “What is it, Joe, you think my memories are selective? That I don’t remember Mortimer? Great fat git and his bully boys. Or do you want me to go back further, relive the gritty details of when you found me in the loos having my head shoved down the toilet? I was the new boy, Jess, a sad little wimp the others wanted to have some fun with, and I don’t know if he told you this, but you may as well hear it from the horse’s mouth. Joe charged to the rescue. Sorted those yobs out, before they drowned me in shit.”

  Jess clamped her hand over her lips in horror. “Ugh, that’s disgusting!”

  “He’s right though,” Joe sighed. “That did happen and I’ve never mentioned it to anyone. I didn’t wanna embarrass you...”

  “It’s okay, I get it,” Sam tried to pacify him, “but you still want to check me out. You’ve been looking at the police reports and chewing over my story.”

  “Yeah,” Joe mumbled, “‘cos something don’t add up.”

  The stream of conversation was cut short when the food turned up a little earlier than expected. Huge plates rested in front of them, generously layered with succulent roast chicken, crispy potatoes glistening golden brown in a pool of dark gravy and crowned with a giant Yorkshire pudding. Maisie bit into a piece of scampi. A smile touched her lips as she savoured it before her eyes lifted to meet Sam’s.

  “I think what Joe’s dying to know is why the homes were never investigated, especially after those parties. Even the police said they sounded dodgy, and this was before you gave your statement.”

  “I thought you told your social worker,” Joe added in a hushed tone, “but can you remember how she reacted?”

  “We need to know, Sam.”

  Joe braced himself, wary of Sam’s darkening glare.

  “Okay,” he relented. “She sat me down with a mug of hot chocolate and asked if I was hurt in any way, except I wasn’t... just traumatised. I genuinely thought I could trust her, so I tried to describe what happened.”

  “And did she believe you?” Joe said, cynically.

  “Looking back, I’m not so sure. She was shocked, obviously. What social worker wouldn’t be? I mean how could someone duty-bound to protect kids face up to the scale of abuse going on in that place?”

  “Yet none of it was reported,” Maisie pressed. “Sam, if anyone in our department had been informed of something like this, they’d act immediately.”

  He shook his head in dismay. “Maisie, she swore she’d look into it, but the day my father stepped in, I had no control over the outcome. It was left in the hands of the authorities. I was eleven. What possible power did I have?”

  Joe raised his eyebrows, hit with a sudden insight. “Yeah, well talking of power, what about your father? What did he do? I mean, he was a judge, wasn’t he? You even suggested he sent a patrol out on the night of the party. That being the case, surely he could have pulled a few strings. So what went wrong and why the fuck wasn’t Mortimer prosecuted?”

  Forking up his potatoes, Sam was beginning to look flustered. “I don’t know, Joe,” he said through gritted teeth. “It’s probably a bit late to ask now.”

  “Why? You’re his son. Don’t you think you’ve got a right to know?”

  “Trouble is, Joe, you’ve got no idea what sort bloke he was, never mind the nightmare growing up in his castle. No one does, apart from me and my half-brother, Duncan.”

  “Duncan,” Maisie echoed. Her eyes flashed in alarm, suggesting she knew more than she was letting on. “I-I’m guessing he was older than you?”

  “Yes,” Sam sighed. “Duncan, who was assigned to look after me. Duncan, whose duty it was to keep me hidden in an attic room. This is the story I never got round to telling you in London, but for the benefit of the investigation, I’ll tell you now.”

  “Go on then,” Joe urged. “Let’s hear about Duncan.”

  Sam released another sigh. “Poor sod was as scared of my father as I was. The old man had a cruel streak, you know, but I couldn’t help thinking it was worse for Duncan. He was his real son, his heir, not like me, the annoying littl
e screwed-up half-brother he had to watch over, ‘cos if anything went tits up, Duncan took the flack.”

  “Well, here’s your chance to explain,” Joe kept prompting him.

  “Yeah, right,” he muttered under his breath. “I’ll explain what life was like. How about all the staring out of the window at the garden, wishing I could go out? I wanted to walk in the snow, taste the fresh air, so on one occasion I sneaked out. Shame some bloody friend of his mum had to turn up. All she did was ask about ‘the little blonde boy’ playing in the snow...” His lips betrayed a tremor. “Father went berserk. Grabbed Duncan by the throat and banged his head against the wall until he begged him to stop. The man was a psycho. I spent the next years tiptoeing around on egg shells, trying to avoid that shit, and I’m sorry if it sounds cowardly, but I didn’t have the guts to challenge him.”

  “That’s terrible,” Maisie simpered, “and I realise it was hard, but did you ever ask him if the police followed up your story?”

  “Mmm,” Sam nodded through a mouthful of potato, “except I never got a straight answer. He told me to forget all about it. Pretend it was a bad dream, Sam, you are quite safe here...”

  “God,” Maisie shivered, “you said he was a control freak but to keep you isolated... even if he did it to protect you, it doesn’t excuse him from keeping quiet. Had it been my foster parents, they would be outraged!”

  “Knowing what I know now about him,” Sam said, “I don’t suppose he gave a shit.”

  “Maybe not, but this is important. Don’t you think the police will want to question him anyway? They didn’t have much joy with your social worker.”

  Sam froze, his features rigid.

  “Stop,” he mumbled, “please. I don’t want to talk about that bastard any more, and if the police decide to speak to him, then I say bring it on!”

  Jess swallowed visibly, reaching for her wine glass. Her plate was not quite empty, but as the atmosphere around the table blackened, she placed her cutlery aside.

  “I need another drink,” she said. “Anyone else fancy one?”

  “Sorry,” Sam murmured. “I didn’t mean to dampen the mood.”

  “It’s okay,” Joe said. “We’re the ones who want answers...” His eyes followed Jess as she strolled to the rear doors. Aware that she was allowing them some privacy, he stayed rooted to the bench. “I’ll go and help her in a sec, but let’s get this discussion wound up and then maybe we can relax.”

  “I agree,” Maisie whispered. “So come on, Sam, what are we going to do about the investigation? Or should I say lack of it. If you told your social worker and nothing was done, that’s a huge failing on the system.”

  Sam leaned forward, his features pressed into a frown. “I’m just wondering... would it help if I spoke to her myself?”

  “I-I’m not sure that’s wise,” Maisie faltered.

  “No,” Joe reflected. “The police might take a dim view of that, and there’s enough secrecy surrounding that woman.”

  “A friend of mine was threatened,” she added, “Sarah. The woman I approached to try and find you. She’s an adoption reunion counsellor.”

  The frown on Sam’s face deepened. “When did this happen?”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Joe said. “If you’ve read the police report, you must know how cagey your social worker’s being, though I’m fucked if I understand why. What exactly is she hiding?”

  Sam rubbed his throat, his other hand tight around his beer glass. “I have no idea, so maybe I should ask her. And if you’re worried about the police, then let me contact DI Fitzpatrick. I could ask him to arrange another interview, at the police station again if it’s easier.”

  Chapter Fifty-One

  A brief interlude followed as Joe slipped away to give Jess a hand, leaving me face to face with Sam.

  From the instant he had appeared in the garden though, it had been difficult to take my eyes off him. An invisible affection loomed. I just didn’t want the others to see it. Even in the bar, I felt that same tug of magnetism. A scent of fresh air clung to him, a hint of dew and green leaves. It brought back our trip from yesterday, but in the absence of the others, only now could I take a proper hard look at him.

  “Are you okay?” I heard myself whispering.

  His complexion seemed ashen, compared to the glow he exuded earlier.

  “Fine,” he said with a tight smile, “and I know we’ve got a lot to talk about but it can be painful at times... I hope you understand.”

  The light squeeze of his fingers reassured me, the resonance of our discussion lingering. Sam didn’t like talking about his childhood, and despite his outer boldness, I sensed a tortured soul.

  “Here you go,” Joe said, lowering another half pint in front of him, “and we’ve settled our half of the food bill.”

  The afternoon continued in a bubble of light-hearted banter, the sun on my skin warm. We basked in the tranquillity of the garden, which was no longer so busy now the lunchtime rush had passed. At first Sam looked preoccupied, but in the light of our discussion, seemed eager to contact DI Fitzpatrick. For several minutes, his fingers moved deftly over the keypad as he typed out a message on his i-Phone.

  “There,” he said. “I’ve sent him an email with the gist of my request. Hopefully he’ll see it first thing tomorrow.”

  On the other side of the bench, meanwhile, and halfway through a second glass of wine, Jess was turning ever more animated. Sliding her hands around Joe’s narrow waist, she snuggled up close for a kiss. I watched in a dream, stirred by such intimacy, wondering what it must feel like to be so in love.

  “Are they always like this?” Sam sniggered. “Hey, get a room, you two!”

  I caught the gleam in his eye, and was happy to see him smiling again.

  Joe on the other hand, looked up warily.

  “Excuse me!” Jess giggled. “Drinking at lunchtime always makes me flirty, and it’s not as if I haven’t offered. When are you going to accept my invitation, Joe?”

  “About moving in?” he muttered. “You know I’d love to, baby...”

  “So what’s stopping you?” Sam interrupted.

  As Joe and I exchanged glances, I didn’t miss that flash.

  Was he having reservations?

  He reminded me of a rabbit caught in headlights.

  “Nothing,” he faltered, “I’m just worried about you, Maisie. I’ve loved lodging at your place but it’s time I moved on. You’ve put up with me for long enough.”

  I gulped, hit with a sense of finality. “But I’ve enjoyed having you.”

  “There’s Connor to consider, too,” he pressed. “Wasn’t it just the other day you were talking to Sarah about offering more respite care?”

  “You’re right,” I said wistfully, “but don’t go thinking I won’t miss you.”

  “Maisie, if you ever need a handyman, you’ve got my number,” he said with a wink.

  “That’s not what I meant,” I snapped. “It’ll be strange coming home to an empty flat. Just promise me we can stay friends...”

  “Sorry, am I missing something?” Sam broke in. “Who’s Connor?”

  I stiffened as thoughts of Sarah shot through my mind. “This is an arrangement with my friend, the one I was telling you about...” My voice lowered to a whisper. “Connor is her teenage foster son. He suffers from Asperger’s. But with all the pressure she’s been under lately, especially the threats, I agreed to look after him for the occasional weekend. It’s just to give her a break.”

  A little later in the ladies, Jess managed to corner me.

  “Hey, Maisie,” she whispered. “What’s up? You’re not upset, are you?”

  “No, of course not,” I said, a smile pinging onto my face. “I’m happy for you both, especially Joe. He deserves something good in his life after what he’s been through, but what about you? Is this what you want?”

  “Yes,” she sighed, “and I know what you’re thinking. It will never last.”

  I fel
t the breath pour from my lungs, and considered my next words carefully. “Just be nice to him, Jess. He’s led a very hard life, compared to what you’re used to, I mean he swears and he smokes. Don’t forget he was homeless before this.”

  “Sure,” she smiled, “but he’s told me he wants to give up smoking and try vaping. Not that it matters. Joe is so adorable, I can’t help falling in love with him. He makes me feel special in a way that no other man has, which reminds me of something else I wanted to say to you...”

  “Go on,” I frowned.

  Lifting her blonde head, her eyes developed a shrewd look. “Have you ever thought about seeing Sam a bit more? I reckon he really likes you.”

  Her words ignited a glow in some hidden corner of my heart. “Really?”

  “Call it female intuition,” she murmured, “but do you think I haven’t noticed the way he looks at you? God, Maisie, what’s the matter with you? He’s gorgeous. For goodness sake snap him up before someone else does.”

  I said nothing more, my mind spinning in circles.

  Returning to the beer garden, the crowds had all but vanished, the pub becoming emptier by the second. But looking at the men, engrossed in conversation, there was something in Joe’s expression that jolted me - an unmistakable flicker of sympathy that suggested they might have been talking about me.

  “We were just saying we might as well make a move,” he announced.

  Illuminated in the sun’s rays, Sam threw a glittering smile in my direction. I had always adored Joe for his character, yet Sam radiated an aura all of his own. I felt another wave of excitement, thinking about what Jess had said.

  Could Sam be the one?

  The mere hint of a romance brought a glow to my cheeks.

  “Is it okay if I follow you back to Bognor, then?” he proposed, out of the blue. “I’d love to take a look at the sea...”

  “So let’s go back to my flat,” Jess smiled, catching my eye again. “It’s a gorgeous day. We can sit outside on the balcony if you like and enjoy the sea views.”