by Jenna Chase
“I’m sorry, I should look where I’m going,” Claire responded, her face turning red.
“You have nothing to apologise for Claire. I was being nosey, trying to see what you were looking at.” He glanced over her shoulder. “Not a nice lot.”
“No,” she responded. She had no idea how much Charles Drummond knew.
“Tevis has come up with an idea for getting Boyd and Ellie out of the house for their honeymoon.”
It sounded as though Charles was assuming the paparazzi were there for information on Eloise Grace.
“He has?” she responded, glad that Charles hadn’t connected them with her.
“We’ve all damned well got to get dressed up. Not you—you’re staying here.” He glanced out of the window again. “Fancy dress,” he grunted. “We’ll be driven out of the security entrance totally unrecognisable in makeup and costume.”
“Hidden in plain sight,” she responded with a smile. “Very clever.”
“Yes, Ellie will be right in the middle of us all…” he waved his hand at the window, “…and that gang of reprobates won’t have a clue.”
He took her arm and tucked it through his. “Come away from the window and don’t let them spoil your day.” He led her back up the stairs to the roof garden.
As the afternoon moved into early evening the mood changed to relaxation. The lighting was subtly dipped to a soft blue tone and the guests took it turns to pick up an instrument and play tunes. Some tunes were simply a strumming along to popular songs. Other guests were more accomplished players. Every now and then, Ellie would enchant everyone with renditions of her favourite songs.
Claire was stroking the neck of one of the guitars as Tevis stepped up to her side with a glass of wine in his hand for her. She took it with a smile and put the glass to her lips for a small sip.
“Do you play?”
“I used to.” She traced a finger down the polished wood. “It’s been a long time since I last touched a guitar.”
Tevis took the glass from her hand and placed it on a low wall and she looked at him with surprise as he picked up the instrument and offered it to her.
“Here, have a go.”
“I don’t know if I’ll remember.”
“Claire, you saw my attempt,” he growled. “Anything would be better than my version of Wild Thing.
She grinned wickedly but didn’t say anything. He’d been awful. Boyd had joined in and made it even worse.
“Look...” he cocked his head at the other guests chatting in small groups, “...they’re too engrossed to notice what you’re doing.”
She took the guitar from his hands and sat on the low wall where he’d put her wine glass. Her fingers danced carefully over the strings, as she listened to the notes resulting from her tentative exploration. She looked up at Tevis.
“Go on,” he encouraged, taking a seat next to her. “Play something for me.”
Claire started picking her way through the melody of Moon River. She was hesitant at first, but Tevis nodded at her—encouraging her to continue. Shyly she closed her eyes and lost herself in the memories of the music.
She had no idea how long she played, the tunes came tumbling out. Some made her smile, others brought a little sadness. She continued plucking at the strings until she realised the only sound she could hear was that of her playing. Slowly she opened her eyes as the last notes of her favourite song tumbled from her fingers.
Everyone was watching her.
“Claire, that was beautiful,” Ellie was sat at her feet, leaning against Boyd. “I didn’t know you could play.”
“I only play for my own entertainment—I haven’t done it for a long time.” Claire placed the guitar back on its stand.
“You should play more.” Tevis was looking at her oddly. “You go to another place when you do.”
She shrugged her shoulders and retrieved her wine glass.
“I didn’t recognise most of those songs,” Ellie queried. They’re beautiful. They’re not pop songs.”
“My father wrote them.” She fiddled with the fine crystal stem.
“Including the last one?”
“Yes.” She looked away, she had no idea why she’d played it.
“What’s it called?”
“Claire’s Lullaby.”
Chapter Six
TEVIS
Sam Rendall studied him carefully as he passed the paperwork over.
“I’ve managed to find some information but there are some important gaps.”
Tevis flipped open the file and glanced at the first page. “Sam, give me a quick rundown on the key points.”
Josie had called him to the library five minutes earlier. He had no idea how Sam had done it—got through his security and into the house without being seen. Not even by the group camped out on the pavement. He wouldn’t tell him either, which made Tevis suspect it was illegal. Or close to it. Sam advised him to change his security firm.
The wedding party was over, just a few stragglers enjoying the late evening. The fancy dress costume members had left without a hitch. Some of the press had followed the vehicle but he knew they were going to be disappointed. The ‘event’ was taking place at a private venue where Boyd and Ellie could slip out unseen.
“It’s difficult to find any real detail about Claire and her family. It’s as if there was a lock down on information when Kathryn Tyler died. There wasn’t that much before either.” Sam ran his fingers through his sandy hair, a sure sign he thought something wasn’t right. “For a global star, she kept her home life extremely private.”
“How private?” Tevis looked up from the photograph of Claire’s mother he was studying. Why hadn’t he noticed the resemblance?
“So private I can’t find out who Claire’s father is.”
“There’s nothing on her birth certificate?”
Sam nodded to the file. “No. Take a look in the second section, there’s a copy in there. Claire’s mother registered her. Bretton is Kathryn Tyler’s birth surname.”
Tevis frowned, “And you can’t find any reference to who he is?”
“Not a damned thing.”
“He’s around, she’s mentioned him. She’s also mentioned a step-mother and a five-year-old half brother.” He looked again at the photograph of Kathryn. “I wonder why she kept the relationship secret?”
“I can only guess that she didn’t want people to know—or the father didn’t.”
“Claire was a child when her mother died, who took over her care?”
“That’s another odd point. Her interests were handled by a small but prominent law firm. They were instrumental in getting the injunction against the press. They were also the point of contact for anyone needing to talk the family.” Sam grimaced. “Unfortunately, the lawyer who managed her affairs has since passed away. So the trail disappears there.”
“Josie told me the family were harassed. At some stage during all the trouble, Claire must have been staying with someone.”
“I’ll go through the press cuttings again to see if there are any clues.” Sam pushed his hair back that now flopped over his brow. “I know you want to keep this hush-hush but you could ask Claire.”
Tevis frowned. “She’s refused to talk about it. I get the feeling it was a hell of a bad time. You should have seen her face when we had a photographer at the kitchen window.”
“She was only fifteen and the press went into a frenzy. I’ve put clippings in the back of the file. In most of the photos taken of Fay Tyler, the kid looks terrified.” Sam’s face softened. “Whoever took over her care, even if it was kept hidden, they did their best to put a stop to it. The injunction was so watertight the press weren’t allowed to go near her while she was in full-time education. That clause included university education. The judge made sure she would be able to have a normal life growing up.”
“Until now.”
“Yes, until now. Until she appeared as a temp working at Standford and Henderson Law, Claire Fay Tyler Bretton dis
appeared. She doesn’t appear on any formal records.”
Tevis flicked through more pages of the file. “You think she used another name?”
“Yes, her father’s.”
“Damn it, we’re going round in a loop.”
“It seems like it. What are you planning to do with this information, Tevis?”
“I’m trying to find a way to put a stop to the press interest—or at least pull their leashes in. Her family are my starting point. They know her history.” He closed the file firmly. Have you had any luck finding out who told Citrus Gem Magazine about Claire?”
“Not yet, but I have a couple of leads I’m working on.”
Sam stood up and Tyler knew the meeting was over. It was always like this with Sam. He dictated the length of the meetings, not the client. He was good, so he could do whatever he wanted.
“Claire played a guitar at the wedding. Completely off piste—no rehearsal.” He walked with Sam to the library door but didn’t open it. Instead, he placed his hand against it, blocking Sam’s exit.
Sam grinned. “Why do I get the feeling you have something to tell me, my friend?”
Tevis cocked his eyebrow and his smile broadened. “She’s talented, played like a professional—no, better. She has a star quality. When Ellie asked about the songs she played, she said her father had written them.”
“Why didn’t you fucking tell me that when I came in?” Sam slapped his hand on the door. “He’s probably a musician or a composer—that’s a whole new avenue to investigate.”
“I didn’t know his identity was secret—besides I like seeing your face when I give you something you don’t know about.”
“It would serve you damned right if I refused to provide my services to you,” Sam growled.
Tevis laughed and took his hand off the door but still didn’t open it. “Sam, you love the jobs I put your way.”
Sam didn’t comment but Tevis knew he’d got him.
“One more piece of information…” Tevis offered.
“Come on, spit it out. Time is money.”
It was worth it to wind his friend up a little. Their teasing games went all the way back to boarding school.
“I have the title of one song...Claire’s Lullaby.”
“That might be enough,” Sam muttered, as he opened the door and walked out.
Chapter Seven
TUESDAY
TEVIS
It was past midnight and Josie was the only one up on the roof garden. He found her in the process of tidying up and turning off the lights.
“Where’s Claire?”
Josie frowned. “I haven’t seen her for a while. Perhaps she’s downstairs with your father?”
“Why is he still here? He was supposed to be with the fancy dress party.”
Josie gave him a wry smile. “He didn’t like his outfit—your stepmother gave up on him and left.”
Tevis chuckled, he could imagine the argument. “Emma has more sense than to give in to his moods. Now he’ll be moping because she’s gone. Damn, I hope Claire hasn’t got herself landed with him.”
“He’s not so bad,” Josie laughed. “It’s all a show most of the time. He’s a big softy really.” She picked up a glass hidden behind one of the plants, “I saw him taking care of Claire earlier.”
Now he was worried. He didn’t need his father trying to convince her to become part of the family. Worse, he didn’t like the idea of Charles Drummond probing her for background information.
“I’d better go and find out if they are together,” he muttered.
Josie smiled. “I’m going to finish off here and then check the caterers have gone.”
Tevis took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I can’t thank you enough for today.”
“I loved organising it and everyone appeared to be having a good time.”
“It was the most laid back wedding I’ve ever been to,” he laughed. “Remind me of this one day when I start to go over the top with arrangements.”
“For you and Claire?” Josie teased.
“No comment,” he grinned.
He was about to leave when Josie’s next words brought him to a halt.
“That last song Claire played today...,” she said out of the blue, “...it’s familiar. I’ve had it running round my head all evening.” She started to hum the tune. “I can’t place it and it’s driving me to distraction trying to work it out.”
He frowned. “I assumed it was a family song from what she was saying.”
“No, it’s not. I’ve heard it before. The version I know has a haunting catch to it. My memory keeps on insisting there should be words to go with the tune, but I can’t recall them.” She laughed. “You know what it’s like, I’ve heard it out of context and it’s bugging me. I’m sure as soon as I remember; I’ll kick myself for not knowing straight away.”
“Let me know when you work it out, will you? I’d like to know too.”
“Can’t you ask her?”
“No, there are reasons why I can’t. She’s a little sensitive at the moment.”
“Because of the idiots outside the house?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t blame her,” Josie said firmly. “If they were on private property we could get them moved. Instead, they can sit there like vultures. I don’t like it.”
“None of us do but I will get it sorted.” He didn’t know how yet, but it was his number one priority.
He left Josie to finish off and went down the stairs to the floor below. Charles was in one of the sitting rooms enjoying a whisky. Tevis walked across and looked out of the window. A series of camera flashes lit up the road.
“They’re going to be damned disappointed it’s only you,” his father said with a chuckle.
He turned to look at him. “Has Claire been here?”
“No, I thought she was with you.”
“No, I had something to handle.”
Charles Drummond waved his hand in the direction of the window. “Something to do with dealing with that lot?”
“In a way.”
“Good.” He took a mouthful of the amber liquid. “Need any help, Son?”
“No, but thanks, I’ve got it covered.” He walked back to the door, “I’ll talk to you tomorrow, I’m off to find Claire.”
“Nice girl. I like her,” his father called after him.
“I like her too, Dad.”
***
At first, he thought she was asleep. The room was in darkness as he walked through the door. Quietly he crept over to his side of the bed and switched on the lamp.
The bed was still made.
A note lay propped on his pillow.
I love you, Tevis. I’m sorry but I can’t stay. Forget about me.
***
CLAIRE
It had been too easy. Dressed once more in her old jeans and tee-shirt and with her make-up removed, she’d easily convinced the catering staff that she had been in to help with cleaning and missed her lift home. As she climbed into the van, the driver had even offered to drop her off in Kings Cross and she’d gladly accepted. The tube trains stopped running at midnight and the alternative would have been to take a taxi. She wanted to keep hold of her cash for the train ticket and somewhere to stay until morning.
When Tevis handed her back her belongings with her camera, he had placed his trust in her. She’d broken it when she left but at least she’d kept her promise to stay until Tuesday. She’d walked out of his house at five minutes past midnight.
Claire hadn’t been willing to hang around the station for five hours and booked herself into a budget hotel. She’d spent the night lying on top of the bed, telling herself over and over again that she’d done the right thing.
She couldn’t stay.
No matter how much she loved him, the thought of living through the hell of being chased by the press drove her into a pit of despair.
She’d been there before and paid the price.
Tevi
s would get over her. He was strong. Resilient.
But will I?
Now it was five forty-five in the morning and Kings Cross rail station was already busy. Trains were arriving and travellers were disembarking. Her own train was already on the platform, she could see it beyond the barriers. Soon they would be calling the passengers through.
She looked up at the train board at the listing of familiar northern names—Doncaster, Leeds, York, Newcastle, Edinburgh, Aberdeen. Two hours and she’d be in the one place she’d always felt safe. Two hours and she’d be with her family.
Why then did her heart tell her she was leaving someone more important behind?
You’ll manage. You have to.
He’d be hurt at what she’d done. Walking out without a goodbye. It had to be that way. She hadn’t the strength to face him.
The gates were open and she stepped up to the barrier and presented her ticket. A slight nod from the guard and she was waved through. Claire walked steadily past the first class section and climbed up into a standard class carriage to look for a seat. There weren’t many seats reserved so early in the morning, and she soon found a vacant one beside the window.
A short while later the train pulled out of Kings Cross, leaving London behind. It would be a long time before she returned, if ever. She no longer felt safe there.
Leaning against the headrest she stared out of the window. At first, her view was of industrial estates and houses but gradually it was replaced by open fields and small villages glimpsed in the blink of an eye.
As her head dipped in drowsiness, the voices from the past returned.
“Don’t go.”
“Sweetie, I have to.”
“But what about Dad? What am I supposed to tell him?”
“It’s okay, darling—he understands.”
I don’t.
“I love you, Mum.”
“I love you too, Claire.”
But not enough to stay.
CONCLUDED IN PART 4
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