by Allen, Anne
‘Mm, this is all very interesting, but how does this connect with that…man and my mother?’
Malcolm sighed heavily. ‘I suspect that he was linked in some way to Archie, who killed my father. He’s the only one who knew about the jewels. You see,’ He got up and walked around, stretching his legs, ‘before Archie and my mother left Guernsey, he took the jewels and cash from the safe. Everything would have been inherited by her anyway, if she and Roland had married, as planned. But Archie knew he stood to inherit nothing, hence the row with Roland. So in effect he stole the money and jewels.’ He stopped walking around and sat down next to Louisa.
Taking her hand, he said, ‘There were no other relatives who stood to inherit, Roland was the last of the line and if my parents had married, I’d have been the heir. Although neither my mother nor I had a legal right to Roland’s fortune, it could be argued we had a moral right.’
Louisa nodded in apparent agreement.
Malcolm continued, ‘Archie hid the jewels and any unspent money in their new home in England but, unknown to him, Ma knew the hiding-place. After he was called up she used some of the cash to buy our passage to Canada. I’d imagine Archie was pretty steamed up about it when he got back on leave and found it all gone. Ma changed our surname to avoid being traced. He was probably looking for us for years. And then one day, perhaps he saw the photo of Susan wearing the jewels in the report of the charity ball and…’ He shrugged, gripping her hand tighter. He could only guess this is what happened, but it fitted with what Louisa had said about Susan’s last words – the man said they had seen the photo of her wearing the jewels and he asked about Malcolm. Archie knew Betty’s son was named Malcolm so it would have been logical to assume he had inherited or borrowed them from her. He may have assumed that he had married Susan and she now had the jewels. At the moment he could not think of any other reason why someone would target Susan for the jewels.
Louisa chewed her lip and Malcolm’s feelings of guilt and remorse rose up from where he’d pushed them since she’d told him about Susan. Dear God, my family’s robbed this poor girl of her mother, all for the sake of stolen jewels. I’m going to find the bastard who did this, if it’s the last thing I do.
‘The man I saw wasn’t that old. Late middle-aged, I’d guess. He didn’t run like a young man. Could Archie have a son?’ She looked up at him, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.
‘I’ve no idea. We’ve been trying to track Archie down these past few months, so far without success. But I’m even more determined now. The police investigation was led by a local inspector, and he’s since retired so I’d like him to act for me privately. He’ll have access to useful sources and we have more to go on now.’
Louisa, appearing mesmerised by the bright, garish jewels, yawned. ‘Sorry, I’m so tired. Any chance of a lift home? Or I can get a taxi.’
‘Of course I’ll run you home. Let me put these baubles away first.’
He came back bearing their jackets and jangling his car keys. Minutes later they were in the car and heading back into Les Canichers on the way to the sea front. A tired stillness filled the car, only broken by the purr of the powerful engine as Malcolm throttled up the steep Val des Terres. Louisa’s head rested on the back of the seat, her eyes closed. Not wanting to disturb her he remained quiet, his mind full of the events of the past two days. His nightly ritual was to review the day, creating a virtual balance sheet of positive and negative experiences or events. Two entries in the balance sheet for the previous day stood out, one negative, one potentially positive. The negative was Susan’s death, robbing him of the chance to make amends to the woman he now acknowledged was the love of his life. The positive was the arrival of Louisa, apparently a daughter he never knew he had. Initially, he was wary. After all, he was wealthy, an easy target for a con artist or the genuine article looking for money. In his heart he knew Louisa was his flesh and blood so that was okay. He still wanted her checked out and the London private eye had done a thorough job. It seemed that, not only was Louisa who she said she was, but that she had been well provided for by Susan. So not a gold-digger. It was a huge relief as Malcolm believed strongly in getting second chances in life, his mother being a prime example. As he negotiated the winding lanes out to St Martins and La Trelade, he fervently wished for a second chance at love. But this time around, sharing the love between a father and daughter – not a lover.
chapter 10
Louisa stretched her long limbs, her toes curling up under the duvet. She had slept more soundly than for a long while and was amazed to see the green flickering lights of the digital clock registering eight thirty. The memory of the previous evening floated into her consciousness and she re-lived it as if in slow motion. It was too early to form a definite opinion about Malcolm, but so far she thought he seemed a decent bloke, if a tad selfish. Probably spoiled rotten by his mother, she brooded; then the memory of her own upbringing brought her up sharp. Some would say she had been spoiled by her mother. Lying cocooned in the warmth of her bed, she could see the similarities between the pairings of herself and Susan and Malcolm and Betty. Two single mothers, never married, but with a child to raise. Susan had at least received some support from her parents, and had been brave enough to start her own business rather than settle for a secure job. Betty had no family support but did have some money, although Louisa had no idea how much it had been – and had not only moved to a strange country but started an hotel business on her own. She guessed that Susan and Betty, with so much in common, would have got on like the proverbial house on fire.
There was so much to learn about her father. It felt strange to be embarking on this journey of discovery at her age. The thought popped in that it must be even stranger for Malcolm who had had no idea that she even existed. As he dropped her off he had suggested that they met at La Folie for lunch and he would show her around. The green digits now flashed eight forty-five and she swung her legs out of bed, heading into the bathroom for a quick shower.
The morning sped by: after a light breakfast Louisa went along to the health suite for a protracted swim, followed by a session in the steam room. Energised, she took a walk along the cliffs for an hour, the fine weather having held. After being cooped up in London for weeks, too depressed to go out, it was a joy to breathe the clear island air. At one point Louisa had stood and watched a group of seagulls ducking and diving over the sea, calling out to each other with high-pitched cries. One of her favourite books, given to her by Susan, was Jonathan Livingston Seagull and ever since, while watching seagulls, she had wondered if one of them was a Jonathan. An Outcast gull who became a free-thinking leader and teacher of other Outcasts. After the death of her mother, Louisa had felt like an outcast. To all intents and purposes an orphan. Someone to tip-toe around, not sure how to deal with. But she was no longer an orphan, an Outcast, she had a father. The thought made her smile as she made her way back to the hotel to change for lunch.
Louisa pushed open La Folie’s front door and immediately was pounced on by Nadine, who rushed over from the reception desk.
‘You’re a dark horse, aren’t you? Fancy being the boss’s daughter and not saying a word!’
Louisa grinned sheepishly. ‘It wasn’t public knowledge so I couldn’t say anything. Has my…father told everyone?’
Nadine nodded. ‘I guess. He said you’d be coming here for lunch and a grand tour and that we were to be on our best behaviour.’
‘What? He said that? That’s a bit…’
Nadine giggled. ‘He didn’t use those words exactly, but I think he wants you to have a good impression of the centre and what we do here. I’m to take you through to the dining room and he’ll join you as soon as he can. He’s in a meeting with Paul at the moment.’
Nadine led the way down a corridor towards the back and opened a door leading into a long, narrow room with fully-glazed walls on three sides. Hazy March sun lit up the space, highlighting the collection of cosy dining
tables. Louisa clocked about eight diners scattered around the room, before Nadine steered her to a window table set for two. Flashing a cheeky smile, Nadine left and was soon replaced by a waitress.
‘Good afternoon, what would you like to drink? Our speciality’s a choice of fresh juices but if you’d prefer a glass of wine…’
‘A juice would be great, thanks. What’s on offer?’
After making her choice from the list of exotic combinations, Louisa gazed out of the window. The garden was flanked by hedging, with a gate at the far end for access to the cliff path. The sea sparkled in the distance. She worked out that it was probably about a thirty minute walk from here to the point near her hotel. The garden itself looked immaculate; the beds abundant with tulips, hyacinth, daffodils and narcissi; all nestled among shrubs of camellia and rhododendron. Little paths cut across the flowerbeds and a couple of guests strolled round, stopping occasionally to sniff fragrant flowers. A paved terrace adjoining the sun room provided an outside seating area, with tables and chairs ready for warmer weather. Heavenly. Malcolm’s chosen a brilliant spot for his centre, regardless of its connection to his father.
Her bright green juice, a mix which included spinach, kiwi and apple, arrived and she took a cautious sip. It tasted delicious and she was taking a longer sip when Malcolm appeared at her side. He patted her arm, saying, ‘Sorry to keep you waiting. Something cropped up that couldn’t wait,’ before settling into the chair opposite. A waitress bustled up to ask if he wanted a drink. After ordering a juice, Malcolm turned to face Louisa and she found herself smiling at him. He looked genuinely pleased to see her again, if a little unsure of his reception.
‘No problem. I’ve been enjoying the view of the wonderful garden. I imagine it’ll look even more stunning by summer.’
‘Yes, it will. The previous owner worked hard on it and we’ve changed very little. We’ll walk round later. Now, what do you want to eat? I can, of course, recommend everything on the menu.’ They shared a grin before Louisa perused the list.
The same waitress returned to take their order and after she had left there was an awkward silence.
‘I…’
‘What…’
They both laughed.
‘You go first,’ Malcolm said, patting her hand.
‘I was going to say how much I enjoyed dinner last night. Although it still feels strange to be sitting talking to you. For years I’d imagined how it would be if we ever met, but I’d always assumed that Mum would be there too…’ The hard ball of grief tightened in her solar plexus and she gritted her teeth.
‘Of course. It can’t be easy for you, my dear. But I hope in time you’ll see me as an important part of your life, though I can never replace your mother.’ He sighed. ‘And although it’s too late for me to be a proper father, I’ll do my best to be there for you. I want you to know you’re no longer alone.’
He certainly looked sincere, she thought, not doubting his words.
‘Thanks. That’s good to know.’ She sipped her juice before continuing, ‘There’s still so much we don’t know about each other…’
He nodded. ‘Fire away.’
The waitress arrived at that moment with their food and Louisa waited until she’d left.
‘Would you mind telling me what happened after you lost your mother? What you did, where you went?’
Malcolm picked at his salad. ‘That’s a long story. Initially I oversaw the running of Ma’s hotels while the legal stuff was sorted, then I moved to Toronto and opened my first, luxury hotel. I’d gained a lot of experience in London and made some useful contacts too, so raising the finance wasn’t difficult. Five years later I opened another one; eventually I owned four in the city. I upgraded Ma’s original hotels, so it became a quality chain, with a good reputation.’ He took a sip of his juice. ‘It was hard work, I never took a day off and had no private life. A true workaholic. It was as if I needed to prove something.’ He shrugged.
Louisa could picture him, being driven to succeed, to be the best. She said softly, ‘Who were you trying to prove something to?’
He tapped his fingers on the table. ‘Myself, mainly. Ma had suggested that we open luxury hotels at some point and I wanted to prove I could do it without her help. I’d always had the need to be the best, at whatever I did. Compensating for not having a father, perhaps.’
She pursed her lips. ‘Makes sense, I guess. Although I don’t share your high ambitions, I did work hard at school and university to get top results. I never wanted to go into business like Mum, looked far too stressful for my taste, but liked the idea of being able to help those with injuries or illness.’
‘What attracted you to physiotherapy?’
‘As a teenager I was into sport in a big way and I liked to push myself to the limit.’ She gave a short laugh. ‘Typical teenage arrogance, thinking I was invincible! It was school sports day and I’d entered in several events. I didn’t bother to warm up properly or pace myself, and while jumping over the hurdles I twisted my knee badly and couldn’t walk. Fortunately for me, a watching parent was a physio and took charge. I needed several sessions with her before my knee recovered, and without her help I could have ended up with a limp.’
‘Are you still sport mad?’ Malcolm asked, smiling.
‘Not really. I tend to stick to swimming and walking these days. And this place is ideal for both.’
They continued their meal in companionable silence before Malcolm suggested he show Louisa around.
‘Let’s start outside with the gardens and the swimming pool. This way,’ he said, opening the door onto the terrace. The air was a little warmer as they began walking towards the bottom of the garden, the bright flowers looking particularly cheerful under the spring sun. At one point Malcolm stopped and, taking her arm, turned her to look back at the house.
‘Oh! Isn’t it lovely. So different to the front. A house with a split personality!’ she joked, gazing at the big bay windows on the upper floors, between which spread the branches of a wisteria still in bud. The sun room, clearly a recent addition, spread across most of the ground floor, finishing just shy of a bay window at the further end. Even with the round towers visible, the effect was much more English country house than gothic castle.
As they walked, Malcolm stopped to say hello to the guests strolling around the grounds. Louisa stood to one side, listening as he asked if they were enjoying their stay and if there was anything they were unhappy with. From what she heard, everyone was perfectly content, complimenting both the therapists and the accommodation. She felt a tiny frisson of pride that her father was the mastermind of this centre, able to please the kind of people who could afford to stay wherever they chose. Malcolm then moved off in the direction of the swimming pool, to the side of the house and set in the middle of what appeared to be a nascent kitchen garden, with small shoots of herbs and vegetables peeping through the soil.
‘We started planting at the end of October, once the pool was near completion. The plan is to be self-sufficient in vegetables, herbs and fruit, all organically grown. This area was once an overgrown field with the remains of a greenhouse in the middle. It’s where my father…’
He looked grim as he stared ahead. Louisa squeezed his arm and he turned and attempted a smile.
‘At least something good’s coming out of what happened, Malcolm. I’m sure your father would have been proud of what you’ve achieved.’
‘Thank you. I’d like to think so. Let’s check out the pool, shall we?’
Louisa was intrigued by the pool’s glazed enclosure. ‘Does it slide back in summer?’ She asked, noticing how it was made up of sections like sliding doors.
‘Yes, it’s quite ingenious. Each section slides under the next, ending up at each end. It’s all electronically controlled; on a dry day, as the outside temperature increases, the sections start telescoping back from the middle. Neat, huh?’ he said, grinning.
‘Yep, sur
e is.’ They stepped inside and a wall of heat hit her, prompting a swift removal of her jacket. She guessed the pool to be about fifteen metres long and eight metres wide; a good size for proper exercising. Two women and a man swam up and down and others lay stretched out on loungers. With the sun pouring through the clear panels, the impression was of swimming outside on a summer’s day. A door at one end led into a wooden lodge holding changing rooms.
‘I think you’ve done a great job. And once the kitchen garden’s matured guests will be able to look out and choose their veg for dinner,’ she said, laughing.
‘That’s the idea. The only thing missing is a Guernsey cow,’ Malcolm replied. ‘But that seemed a step too far! But we’ve leased out another field to a local farmer so there are cows nearby.’
‘Quite a bucolic picture you’re painting,’ Louisa said, looking out over the neighbouring fields. ‘It’s so peaceful here, too. No sounds of traffic: nothing. Your guests must sleep like babies. Heaven, after the noise of London.’
‘That was the aim. To provide somewhere that’s easy to get to, but in its own world. Most of the guests lead full on, stressful lives, and need to escape every few months. We’ve already had some re-book for later in the year.’
Louisa was suitably impressed. ‘That’s good. Have you, er, had any celebs staying?’
He tapped his nose, smiling. ‘Can’t mention any names, but we are expecting an A list film star next month.’
‘Cool! Male or female?’
‘Female. And not another word. Now, let me show you around inside; you’ve hardly seen anything yet.’
They retraced their steps to the sun room, walking through from there to the hall.
‘Right, along this passage are a couple of therapy rooms and over there is the library, used by anyone as a place to relax and read or chat. Other therapy rooms are in the next passage.’