by Marcus Alden
‘Tea would be good,’ Dan said.
‘We’re cooking up a full English breakfast.’ Dan noticed that although Mrs. Finkley gave the appearance of being busy she left Mr. Finkley to do the work. She slumped down in her armchair and flicked through a TV guide. Mr. Finkley brought Dan a gigantic plate of food and a pot of tea. The portion, enough for two people, was caked with grease. Dan gulped. As Dan ate Mrs. Finkley got up from her chair in front of the TV and sat opposite him at the table. She watched him eat like he was an entertainer. Mrs. Finkley poked her glasses back on her nose.
‘You need fattening up boy, you eat up. When I was your age I was double your size.’ Mrs. Finkley seemed to forget that she was still double his size.
‘Leave him alone Margaret!’ a voice said through the kitchen hatch.
‘I’m doing no harm,’ Mrs. Finkley said to her husband and looked back to Dan. ‘Just chatting aren’t we dear?’ Dan took a bite of a soggy tomato. ‘We had none of this half fat rubbish when I was young. My mother made butter, and for a treat on a Sunday we had a lardy bun.’ She didn’t expect a response. ‘That was the highlight of my week, those lardy buns.’ Her yellow grin paused for a second and then, without explanation, she left the table and went back to the armchair. Mrs. Finkley unwrapped a sweet and added the wrapper to the pile of other ones on the side. Dan expelled a loud burp. His stomach struggled to cope with the quantity of grease. Mrs. Finkley didn’t look up as she seemed too fixated on the clock. Mr. Finkley came to clear the table.
‘Oh, Margaret’s waiting for her programme to start. She loves the antiques one she does; watches it every day.’ Dan smiled. He felt sorry for the couple trapped in their bubble, but they seemed happy enough. It was time to leave the new world he’d been introduced to; a place he didn’t want to find himself one day. Dan collected his bag and thanked them for their hospitality.
‘That’s forty pounds dear, do come again won’t you?’ Mrs. Finkley called out in a garbled voice as she chewed another sweet. Mr. Finkley collected the money and squirrelled it away in a drawer before going back to the kitchen to start the washing up. ‘Goodbye dear,’ Mrs. Finkley said from her chair.
Dan shut the red front door behind him. In the daylight, he could see that the house was part of a row of small brick houses. Some houses had trailing plants that grew round the windows and others had flowers in pots. The Finkleys’ house had cracks and a shoddy hand-painted B&B sign that squeaked in the breeze.
Dan walked towards the shops and got out the crumpled scrap of paper with Sarah’s number on.
‘Hi, it’s Dan we met yesterday.’
‘Hey Dan we met yesterday,’ Sarah said teasing. He should have seen that coming he told himself.
‘I’ve got some time to waste. Do you want to meet up for that coffee?’
‘Ok, but are we actually going to have coffee or do you just want me for my brain?’
‘Yes, I mean no. Yes, we can have coffee,’ Dan said.
‘Ok Dan we met yesterday I’ll be there in ten minutes. Meet you at the Buttercross; it’s the stone spire in the High Street.’
Dan had no idea where that was, but as he walked down through the shops it was clear. It was a busy morning: shoppers walked back and forth and a busker played guitar looking for a little more than applause. A man took photos of the buildings; a dog pined for its owner while tied to a pillar. Dan looked in the windows near the carved spire. His stomach gurgled from the fatty breakfast as he looked at Cornish pasties and chocolates.
‘Couldn’t wait to see me then eh?’ Sarah said as she smiled. Dan turned around. She looked even more beautiful than he had remembered.
‘Something like that.’ Dan joked, but he meant it. They went into the coffee shop. Behind them, the man who took photos switched his subject from the buildings and pointed the lens at the window. They sat down with the coffees and Dan got out the printed sheets.
‘See, I knew it!’ Sarah said.
‘C’mon I need help. At least look at what I found, will you?’ Dan halved the papers and gave some to Sarah.
‘Ok what am I looking for, I don’t understand?’
‘I came here because my grandfather died leaving me money; a grandfather I have never heard about or even seen a picture of. I got a call from a solicitor’s office here in Winchester telling me to come to discuss my inheritance. But the papers I was supposed to sign got ruined yesterday when the crash happened.’
‘Ok,’ Sarah said puzzled.
‘Because of the crash yesterday I had time to find out about him. See, I didn’t know my parents either so there are no family memories. I just wanted to find a photo or something that told me who he was or what his life was like.’
‘So, what did you find?’ Sarah asked.
‘Well, that’s just it, nothing. I couldn’t even find anyone called Charles Easton. There are people with the Easton name, but no Charles. If you could look through those sheets for anyone with a connection to Hampshire I’ll check these. There has to be something.’
‘Is this what you do with all the girls you meet?’ Sarah said as she took a sip of coffee.
‘Oh yeah, why wine and dine and jump through all those unnecessary hoops when you can do research?’ Sarah chuckled as she picked up the first sheet. ‘There’s a Henry; Michael; James. I can’t see a Charles,’ Dan said.
‘This says about someone called James, here look.’ Sarah gave him the sheet.
‘None of this makes any sense. There should be something on him.’ Dan’s mobile rang.
‘Mr. Easton, it’s Jennifer here. I have the new papers. Can you come in to sign them now?’ Jennifer’s tone was urgent.
‘What, now this minute?’
‘Yes. Alexander is leaving for London and he’s eager to have this wrapped up before he goes.’ Sarah took the sheet back that she had passed to Dan; her face puzzled over it as she sipped her coffee.
‘I can’t I’m… with a friend.’ Dan hesitated as to what to call Sarah. ‘I can pop in later.’ Sarah wasn’t a friend; Dan knew nothing about her but she was not an enemy either, he thought.
‘He’s not going to be back for days. You really need to come in now otherwise—.’
‘It’s just I’d like to know about my grandfather, where he lived, and who my family were before I accept his inheritance,’ Dan said. He could sense Jennifer was fidgety. Sarah circled a word on the sheet and added a question mark; she passed it back to Dan and left for the toilet.
A man got up from a nearby table and followed Sarah. As she pushed the door to the toilets a tight grip twisted her arm back. She tried to wriggle free. Sarah started to yell, but the man covered her mouth before the sound could escape. The man held his grip tighter. He leaned in close and spoke in her ear.
‘I have a message for you.’
Chapter 4
The thug pushed Sarah hard against the wall and her lip caught a jagged tile.
‘Leave him alone,’ the man said. Sarah struggled to be free of his grip as her legs kicked about. She bit into his thick hand, but he only flinched and then tightened his grip again. Then the door opened and a woman walked in. Sarah yelped and, for a split second, the thug was distracted. It was enough for Sarah to wriggle free and she kicked him as she did. Sarah had not seen his face but as she scrabbled away she caught a flash of a tattoo on his neck in the reflection of the mirror. The thug slid on paper towels and Sarah pushed past the woman who was too stunned to be of any use. Sarah ran back towards the front of the coffee shop as her lip bled down her chin.
‘You say you don’t have any information about my grandfather, and I can’t find any record of him. Who is James?’ Dan said to Jennifer. The receptionist paused as if she waited to be given an answer. Dan could tell she had been rattled. The change in her voice, although only subtle, was enough for alarm bells to start to ring in his head. His mind raced, what did her reaction mean? He had taken everything they had said as truth, as fact, why wouldn’t he? But what if there was more
to the story than Maybury had revealed?
‘What do you know? Who were my family? I want to know the truth.’ Dan pummelled the questions to Jennifer, certain that she knew something he didn’t. He gave Jennifer no time to reply. ‘Tell me!’ There was another pause on the phone.
‘I’m sorry I—.’ The line cut dead. The silence echoed like high-pitch screeching as Dan’s perceptions of what he had been told thrashed about in his mind. A feeling of emptiness swept over Dan as he realised that his family were no nearer to him than they had been before; he felt lost. But there was no time for reflection, for, as he sat by the window of the coffee shop, Sarah rushed toward him.
‘Dan, we need to go. Now,’ Sarah yelled. Dan heard the urgency of her tone, but he was still distracted by the phone call. He got up and turned in a half daze. Sarah grabbed him by the arm and shoved the papers into his bag. She turned. The thug emerged at the back of the room and shoved past a member of staff who cleared a table. The tray flew into the air; the cups catapulted off and smashed on the wooden floor. The thug swerved in reaction. A toddler started crying. Dan and Sarah rushed out through the glass door.
‘What’s going on, you’re bleeding?’ Dan said as he took a glance back at the man that chased them. ‘Who is he?’ Dan’s lungs tried to keep up with the sudden jolt.
‘I don’t know; he threatened me, told me to stay away from you. What does he want from you?’ Sarah said as they ran up the High Street.
‘I’m just a normal guy. I don’t know anything. I’ve never seen him before,’ Dan said as he looked towards Sarah.
Dan and Sarah turned left into a narrow, darkened passage. The high brick walls seemed to taper inwards at both ends of the passage and created a sense of safety. Dan and Sarah stood back as flat as they could against the chalky bricks. Their weaving between the shoppers seemed to have worked as the thug had not caught up with them.
‘Your lip is still bleeding, here, take this.’ Dan passed Sarah a tissue. He stared captivated by the tainted beauty next to him. Sarah dabbed the white tissue to her face. Dan refocused.
‘Back in the coffee shop I asked Jennifer about what you had circled on that sheet. I asked her who James was, that’s all. She seemed to know what it meant and wouldn’t answer. Then she got uneasy, scared even, and put the phone down. Who is James?’ Dan said.
‘The name just leapt out. Something’s not right. From your notes, you said that your grandfather died in hospital. Is that correct?’ Sarah asked.
‘Well, either a hospital or a care home. I'm only going on what I was told; I’ve never even met him.’
‘And that your grandfather’s name was Charles and he lived somewhere in Hampshire?’
‘Yes, but—.’
‘We better not stay here, let’s go,’ Sarah said as she looked to the end of the passageway. They hurried on through the passage and turned the corner out of sight. They found themselves away from the high street and tucked between buildings. They were safe for now. They both sat down on a set of stone steps that dipped in the centre from years of use. Dan got out the sheets of research that he had printed. The sheets were out of order as well as dog-eared and crumpled. Dan sifted through them for the one that had caused the reaction. He found it: an A4 sheet of typed text. Nothing stood out about the piece of paper other than the pen mark made by Sarah. But what was it that had caused her to make the mark, he thought? Dan started to read. It was an obituary notice from the local newspaper.
1930-2014
James Frederick Garrett Easton
Passed away peacefully after a short illness on 19th May aged 84 years.
Funeral service at St Peters, West Liss on Tuesday 29th May at 11am.
‘So what? He’s not my grandfather,’ Dan said as he looked up to Sarah.
‘Well maybe, but his surname would be Easton, right? And, as far as you know, he lived in Hampshire and didn’t have any living relatives? When did they say he had died?’ Sarah asked.
‘I can’t remember, no, wait. Maybury said he had been looking for me for a while.’
‘Ok, well the surname matches, the county matches, and potentially the date matches,’ Sarah said.
‘Yes, but not the name. My grandfather’s name was Charles! Just because this man has my surname doesn’t mean anything,’ Dan said.
‘Ah yes, but who told you that? Was it the same people that sent that thug to warn me off?’ Sarah said as she looked at Dan. Dan squinted his eyes and shook his head in disbelief. ‘What if the information they told you had been twisted? What if the inheritance is not what they said it was? How do you know for sure Dan?’ Sarah asked. Dan didn’t know. The more time passed the less he felt sure of anything. If the information he had been told was false then maybe the inheritance was not what they said it was. If the inheritance was not what they said it was then what was the truth? Dan stopped thinking and froze. He searched Sarah’s face for clarity. A door shuddered open which made them both jump. A hunched woman in a sea-green coat stepped out from her house. A cat followed her out and meowed after her, but she shooed it back in and locked the door.
‘That’s just it: I don’t know,’ Dan said after the woman had passed by.
‘But they do know something, and it must be important. Something they don’t want you to know about James Easton,’ Sarah said. Dan’s mobile rang; it was Jennifer. Dan left the phone unanswered as it buzzed in his hand.
‘Will you help me, help me find the truth, whatever it is?’ Dan asked.
‘Do I really have any choice? Now they know what I look like who’s to say that they’ll leave me alone anyway?’ Sarah said.
‘But it might be dangerous. That guy back there. You could get hurt,’ Dan said concerned. Sarah laughed.
‘Sounds exciting. I need a few distractions in my life. Besides, I gave him a good kicking,’ Sarah said. They smiled at each other. Each one relieved that the other was going to be around for support if the thug did catch up with them. They stood up from the cold stone.
‘So now what?’ Sarah asked.
‘How should I know? It’s not as if I’ve got a guidebook on how to avoid villainous thugs,’ Dan said. He noticed Sarah raise her eyebrows at his comment. ‘I guess we could go to that grave site and see if there’s any clue there.’
‘Sounds like a plan. I’ll drive, but we’ll have to get to my car first. It’s parked in someone’s drive. I rent a space as there’s never any parking here. Sarah searched her pockets for the key. ‘Dammit, my key must be in my room.’
‘How far is that?’ Dan asked.
‘A few minutes up the hill.’
‘Let’s go, if he’s going to find us at least we’re expecting it this time,’ Dan said. Sarah gave a nod in agreement and they turned back down the alley. Cautious, the pair slipped back into the shoppers on the high street. Looking straight ahead Dan and Sarah walked up away from the shops without saying anything to each other. They both felt tense, unsure of whether the thug followed them. If they continued on up they would have to walk past Maybury’s office, but if they went a different route it would take longer and they risked being seen. They looked at each other and moved ahead in unison.
Dan and Sarah crossed the traffic lights. Their eyes fixed on the stone Westgate ahead of them. Maybury’s building got nearer.
‘Is this a good idea?’ Dan asked as the tension built inside of him.
‘He’s not going to be there waiting, is he?’ Sarah said. Dan glanced at Sarah with a sick feeling that gained momentum in his stomach.
‘Yeah, but we don’t know,’ Dan said.
‘Just don’t look,’ Sarah said in a matter of fact way. ‘If you go past gawking at the windows and acting strange of course you’ll stick out.’
‘I hope you know what you’re doing,’ Dan said with gritted teeth. They passed the building close so that they could not be seen from the high windows. The pale painted stone was gone soon enough and, as they reached the shadowed archway, they both let out a sigh of relief a
t the same time.
‘I thought you were sure it would be fine?’ Dan asked.
‘I just said that to help,’ Sarah said.
‘There I am thinking you’ve got some calculated theory and really you’re just hoping for the best,’ Dan said in disbelief.
‘Well, you can’t blame a girl for trying. It helped, didn’t it?’ Sarah said. She smiled at Dan.
‘Yeah, it did actually,’ Dan said. He was grateful for her confidence. Dan felt more attracted to his beautiful stranger and looked away, aware of not wanting to gawk. As Dan and Sarah walked up the hill towards the University, Dan felt a strange comfort with her by his side.
* * * *
Adrian, who had followed Harrier doing banal tasks such as scrape gum off the bottom of his shoes, looked on from a distance. The thugs met in the street, unaware they were being followed. Adrian only guessed what they said as the music from the busker drowned out any definition.
‘You idiot! Why weren’t you following him?’ Hawk said. He took another breath of smoke as he waited for the answer.
‘I was lying low. You asked me to lie low. You didn’t do so well yourself losing him like that,’ Harrier said.
‘We can’t afford to make sloppy mistakes like this; Atmore’s up to something,’ Hawk said.
‘Atmore’s always up to something. How else would we have jobs? Don’t worry your little head about it. If we hang around long enough we’re bound to see him or the girl,’ Harrier said.
Chapter 5
The wide door swung shut behind Dan and Sarah. They stood in a hallway with doors to the left and right. In front of them was a noticeboard with health and safety notices that had been defaced and, on the floor, were flyers for nightclubs and takeaways. Sarah led the way to her room. Her room was furnished with generic university issued furniture which comprised of a fitted wardrobe joined to a built-in sink and a desk next to the window with a bookcase above. Across from the desk, a single bed faced the wardrobe. The walls were covered with colourful artwork that lifted it out of the dull reality. Torn out magazine pages and clippings had been stuck to the wall alongside Sarah’s own work.