When I came into the dining room in the morning, Angel was not there. I waited some minutes for her to appear, but she didn't. It was then I decided to go to the kitchen to see if Pesker or, the others knew where she was.
I was told by Mrs. Pesker that Mrs. Boreman had rushed out before nine this morning and that her husband, Pesker had taken her. She did not know what it was about, but she knew that Mrs. Boreman was in a great state of anxiety. Accepting this information, my presumption must be nothing to do with the disquieting news about the dog.
Some hours later, while I was in J. J’s bedroom, I heard a car traveling along the gravel path, I knew instantly, without looking that Angel had returned. But what was that noise, it was in the same room as me, and then I realized it was coming from me. It was the little cellphone I had brought. But who could be calling me, my hands anxiously, fumbling for the device? As soon as I had taken it out of the case, the ringing tone went off. Of course, too late, I knew it could only be the lawyer's office and though I was curious as to know why he rang, now that Angel was back, I thought it might be the best idea to switch it off.
And then it rang again. Should I answer, I held it in my hands. Well, of course I should, because what was the point of going to the lawyer to find out what was in John's will. Pressing the cellphone’s button, I answered with hello.
‘Is this Miss Boreman?’ it was Jeffrey Stanton.
‘Correct,’ I knew after I answered I had been too blunt for he seemed to stumble, almost a stutter in his reply to me.
‘This is Jeffrey Stanton here, and it is about your claim to the late Mr. John Boreman's will.’
So, it was true, it really was true. John wasn't alive anymore, and all those years together had vanished. I could never talk to him again or, see his face or watch as that stupid kiss curl fell across his brow. Silly to admit now, but I loved that kiss curl. Often, I felt I wanted to push it back, but I didn't because that was John, that was part of him. And now he's gone, and I shall never be able to say to him what I wanted to say, and that was, I was sorry. I had been a bitch, and could he forgive me for he deserved better than me, but he certainly deserved far better than her. But it was all too late. Each of those words was now trapped in time. And John did not even have a headstone where I could go and visit and talk. Unlike me, he was an only child. Oh dear, and now I felt too sad, too sad to think. A life ended at forty-two.
‘Hello, are you still there?’
‘Yes, I'm sorry, I was just thinking of John. I suppose, I still cannot believe he's gone. I suppose I was hoping against hope this was a bad nightmare.’
‘I understand’ it sounded like he too was sad.
And then I suppose we both became thoughtful.
‘So, you were ringing to tell me about John's will.’
‘Yes.’ Was there hope in his voice? ‘But first I need to have confirmation who you say you are.
‘Yes, of course,’ I could imagine Angel behind him, instructing him what to do. ‘I understand. But I'm not certain when I will be able to get to your office. It's my friend you see.’
‘Oh yes, the one who suffers from paranoia.’
‘Yes, she doesn't know I've got a cellphone and so I can't speak for too long, just in case she comes into the room.’ I was now concerned if this story was credible.
‘Oh dear.’
‘Did John leave me anything in his will?’ of course, I knew John would not leave me anything in his will because he did not have a sister.
‘How much were you expecting?’
My preparations for his answer had been completely different, I expected to hear there was no money because John's will did not contain leaving anything to a sister. But now, Jeffrey Stanton was acknowledging, I think, that there was a possibility that I, as John's sister, existed. There was something very wrong going on with this, but he was waiting, and I had to be quick in my answer. How does anyone produce a sister from thin air?
‘Naturally, what John has left me?’ I had my ear close to the cellphone, listening and waiting and I thought I heard him sigh.
‘I need to see some documentation first,’ he sounded depressed.
‘Oh, of course,’ for in my mind, I was beginning to calculate figures. A half a million, well, perhaps not, two hundred thousand would be wonderful, and even a hundred thousand would make a vast improvement in my life. But then, it might only be fifty thousand or even twenty and if it was ten, well, ten it would have to be, but I suppose that’s better than nothing.
But it was only when I switched off the phone, still wondering how much I would actually receive in the end, did it strike me of the legality of this situation. What Jeffrey Stanton was prepared to do was illegal and from his meeting with Angel last night, it appeared that he was taking his orders from her. But I had no power and no control, and she had everyone wrapped around her sticky little fingers. Yet, if I could get what I could, wouldn't that be better than nothing at all? It meant I really had to negotiate hard.
I wasn't certain if this was a time to rejoice or not or, even to be disappointed. But I was bothered that Jeffrey Stanton could be in a position to offer me money. There were so many questions asked, and none of them could give me an answer. And then, I wondered, had Jeffrey Stanton recognized my voice as I had his. This was a great possibility as I had done nothing to disguise it.
And on the floor, J.J was crawling across the room. When I called him by the name I had given to him, he responded. It gave me pleasure which made me feel unusual because when I called him by the name his mother had given him of Toy, he totally ignored me. Well, it was understandable, but it was also foolish of me. He felt more mine than he was hers. And so, I played with him with his soft fluffy ball, rolling it across the floor to him and encouraging him to roll it back to me. Such a simple game to play and yet the pleasure gained from it was immense for us both.
It was while I went to put the bedroom light on that, I imagined I heard someone passing J. J’s bedroom door. I put this down to being on edge. It was only when Angel's bedroom door slammed further along the hall, did it confirm my fancy. I wondered what she was doing in her room after she had been out, as I also wondered if she had gone to see Jeffrey Stanton. A thought which was highly likely.
Why hadn't John's will been made public, and why had Jeffrey Stanton held on to it? All these questions holding the satisfaction of any answers but one thing I was pretty sure of was that Angel had something to do with the concealment of John's will. I was reminded by what Hattie had said about it, that it was not left completely to the advantage of Angel, but how was Hattie to know this? He had been left out of Angel's confidence.
It was getting closer to J. J’s dinner time and as I now usually dined with Angel, I popped J.J in his playpen while I went down to the kitchen.
‘Don't worry mom,’ it was Annie when I walked into the kitchen. ‘We can manage it.’
Mrs. Pesker was sitting at the table polishing the silver zealously. Upon seeing me, Annie gave a limp smile and then, shrugged.
‘Mrs. Boreman,’ said Annie with a quick glance at her mother, ‘is going to have a party.’
‘Yes, I know,’ I replied. ‘She did mention something to me about it, but I just thought it was one of her whims.’
‘I don't know how many people are coming,’ worried Mrs. Pesker. ‘So, I can't calculate how much food to make. I'm not a chef.’
‘So, she's actually going to go through with it.’ I thought Angel might have proposed this because she was bored and that it was just idle talk. For Angel to have a proper masked ball, it would take weeks if not months of planning and preparation, and besides who would she invite?
‘Just do the best you can dear,’ said Mr. Pesker going across to the television to switch it on.
With my mind half on Angel's fancy of a masked ball, I realized I had to get J.J something to eat. In the past, it had always been Mary who saw to his dinner. But these thoughts were quickly overshadowed when I heard the news on the te
levision.
Again, the headline was about the still missing criminal, Jacob Barba in connection with the death of the late, Judge Angus Stove Madwort. Suspicion was falling more and more, as the investigations furthered that it was Jacob Barba, who murdered the judge on Friday last. There was also a possible connection regarding the death of the coroner. The police believed these two deaths were revenge killings. Forensics had exhumed the body of Mr. Douglas. It had been purported in Jacob Barba's trial that Mr. Douglas had been deliberated shot in the head. Certainly, Jacob Barba's gun had gone off but whether he shot to kill him is now being questioned.
The late Judge Angus Stove Madwort, much respected for his fairness and service to justice, is also under investigation. No one is above the law, said, Deputy Police Chief Harrison. The late judge's family has asked that his memory should be respected as they are still grieving the loss of a dear and beloved husband and father.
Switching the television off, Mr. Pesker turned around with a thoughtful face. ‘I don't like to say anything about the dead because they can't defend themselves, but the man is not as clean as people have tried to make him out to be. I don't know what Mrs. Boreman's game is, having an affair with him and telling him that the child upstairs is his baby, and the same goes for that lawyer fellow. You can't go around using people like that, messing them up and expecting to get away with it. It's just not decent, and it's not fair.’
‘What's not fair,’ asked Angel suddenly appearing and walking into the kitchen. She looked from one to the other, her eyes unusually bright as if she was defying anyone to speak. ‘So, you've been talking about me behind my back.’
‘It's not that Mrs. Boreman,’ Mr. Pesker, who realized now he had been caught, was now trying to dismantle the heighten feelings coming from Angel. ‘It's up to you what you do with your life.’
‘Yes, it is. And you're paid to work for me not to give your opinion on my character.’ Her eyes were like bright needlepoints. ‘Do you know that your comments are sackable, and should I sack you, you can be sure you will not receive any good references from me. Do you understand?’ and then she left the kitchen.
‘So, you were talking about me?’ Angel was sitting at the dinner table rubbing the palms of her hands together when I walked into the dining room.
I had been dreading this, coming to have dinner with her, I knew her mood swings were getting worse, and I doubted that it was all down to this insane diet she had put herself on. And in that brief second, when I answered her with my eyes, I knew she hated me. Not just disliked me but hated. It was a shock to acknowledge this revelation.
‘People do talk about each other.’ Carefully, I took my seat by making a lot of unnecessary arrangements to ensure my ease, stroking my thighs and rear before I considered the seat was comfortable.
‘What was being said about me?’ her voice was spiked as she bit her lip while her eyes were firmly on mine.
‘It was the news,’ I lightened my voice, following Jeffrey Stanton's example. ‘You see, it wasn't just you, who knew the late judge but also Mr. Pesker. He was very upset with the news of his violent death.’
‘And so was I.’
‘I agree, and so were you.’
‘The judge had been a good friend to me, and it isn't easy when you're alone and especially when you're rich,’ Angel was regarding the length of the table which oddly again reminded me of John. It was the way he looked when he was planning some new game. ‘I can't have people, who are close to me and live with me, taking advantage by slurring my character.’ And then she looked directly at me. ‘Do you understand me? You're one of my employees, and I expect loyalty and not, spiteful comments.’
It was better if I changed the direction of the conversation, and not say that people will have their views and that, it's not possible to censor others' thinking. For the time being, I was very much in her power. But once I got what I wanted, I would be out of here and fast, if it meant I would have to lose J.J. The idea did pass through my mind that she would not miss her son and that perhaps, I would ask her if I could take him with me. But he wasn't just her son, he was also her bargaining tool. If John could hear me now, he would be surprised at how much I have changed. I wasn't just jumping in by the heels, I was looking first where I might be going.
‘How many people are you going to invite to your masked ball?’ I asked, watching her pour out the wine.
‘The ones,’ she gripped my glass before passing it to me, ‘Who I consider being important to me.’
I nodded as if understood what she meant. The judge was dead, and so was Hattie. And then I thought about tomorrow for that was the day of Hattie's funeral. Now it was here, I was not looking forward to it.
‘Hattie's funeral is at two-thirty,’ I said casually sipping my wine trying to imagine how it would be in a lonely cemetery, especially at this time of year with the leaves fallen vagrant to the earth and waiting for their decomposition, it would be very depressing.
‘I'm not sure it's a good idea for me to go,’ Angel had drunk her wine in one go.
‘Oh,’ I looked up, surprised.
‘Or you,’ she was refilling her glass.
‘But why,’ and now I was astonished.
‘Let me ask you, why do you really want to go?’ again, her teeth were biting her lip as though she was trying her best to control herself.
‘Because he had become a friend. And though I've been unable to keep friends in the past, I'm holding on to this one.’ Suddenly, I felt angry.
‘What, even a dead one?’
‘Yes, even a dead one. Even if I must get there on my own, I will order a taxi.’
And then, strangely, she smiled as if what she had been doing was some sort of sick joke. ‘Oh, don't worry, Pesker will take us both. I just wondered what you would do if I said no.’
25
As we were driving through the gates the following day at one o'clock, I noticed two different faces were walking the grounds. In front of them were four Rottweilers now gaining ground ahead of these two new security men. We had already passed the three Alsatians patrolling closer to the house, these were the ones which were left from the original four. Hearing a laugh, I looked to Angel, she had been watching me and waiting for my reactions.
‘I never do things by half,’ she grinned to herself now looking out of the window. ‘Whatever happens, I never allow anything to get me down. I always win.’
Always now I felt uncomfortable in her presence, almost as if she had redefined herself from the person I had met – not even three months ago since the beginning of October. That was how long I had known Angel. This Angel was not the person I had first met. I couldn't help shuddering, and of course, she noticed and laughed once again.
The church was packed, I hadn't expected anything like this, I somehow imagined that apart from Angel and those two other gay men, Hattie was friendless, but he was far from that. And then cynically came the thought that perhaps, gay people stick together especially when it comes to things like funerals.
Stupid of me to insist that I wanted to go to Hattie's funeral because further down on the other side of the church was the man from the jewelers. I recognized him as he walked past to take his seat. Now my fear was that he would acknowledge me by calling attention to that day when we met and of my purchase. Angel, I could see also didn't want to be recognized. She was hidden by what I thought was a rather over the top black lace veil. It did the trick; her face was almost indiscernible.
Around the grave, the assembly of people stood, everyone dressed in black except for the odd bright tie or colored socks and most of the mourners were wearing gaudy jewelry. I felt awkward, though there was no reason why I should, after all, at the end of the day we are all just trying to lead our lives in the way which makes us happy.
Hattie had a pink coffin; I came away with Angel thinking about it and smiling that Hattie was not afraid to reveal his sexual proclivities. But I was glad to climb into the warmth of the car and back in
to the normality of my confused life, death is something which should not be courted.
Mary was at the funeral, she nodded to me, and I think she would have spoken to me if it wasn't for seeing Angel by my side. At the graveyard, Angel decided to go back to the car taking Pesker with her, I guessed she must have been cold or, it could have been that funerals were not her thing.
‘Twenty people said they would come to my masked ball,’ informed Angel as we were on the way back.
‘Twenty,’ I nodded, surprised at how fast Angel moved. ‘And when do you plan to have this masked ball?’ I slid off one of my high heels and folded my foot underneath me, it was one way of warming my feet up. It had been uncomfortably cold out there around the grave and in more than one way I kept thinking about John and how it had been at his funeral. I wish I could ask Angel about the funeral, but I knew that this right could not be mine ask, it would lead to many questions. But in silence and although it wasn't John's grave, I sent my thoughts to him, which I found peculiarly reassuring.
‘I'm having the ball this Saturday,’ Angel answered.
‘But that's.’
‘Yes, the day after tomorrow. I need something to cheer me up. I believe the masked ball will do the trick.’ She turned to give me one of her strange, almost sick smiles. ‘It's time the woodworms came out of the wood to show themselves,’ and then again, she laughed like one who was becoming unbalanced. ‘I'm not afraid anymore.’ Her face was beaming.
‘Afraid of what,’ I couldn't help asking.
‘Of ghosts.’
‘Ghosts,’ I repeated.
‘Yes, aren't we all haunted by ghosts?’
‘I suppose so,’ I was thinking about John.
‘But everything is okay now, as I have insurance. Nothing can touch me anymore,’ and then she turned her smiling face towards the window to stare out at the passing world.
Angel Page 24