The Midnight Rose

by Lucinda Riley

  ‘How odd.’ Dr Trefusis leaned over Ari’s shoulder to study the certificate. ‘Yes, that’s my grandfather’s signature, but by law he’d have had to send the duplicate to be officially registered.’

  ‘I’ve checked every public record online too, and there’s not a trace. Of course,’ he said, ‘his mother never believed Moh did die that day.’

  ‘Really?’ Dr Trefusis was obviously surprised. ‘So, did he?’

  ‘No. Mabel Smerden was able to confirm he didn’t die. She’s sure that Moh was taken to an orphanage somewhere in London that day.’

  ‘By whom?’ said Dr Trefusis, sitting down opposite him.

  ‘I’m sorry to say, by your grandfather.’

  Ari was waiting for a defensive reaction and was surprised when the doctor only lowered his eyes.

  ‘Sadly, it doesn’t surprise me. I’m not sure of the circumstances surrounding your relative’s birth, but I can confirm that my grandfather aided a number of young women who found themselves in trouble. When the babies were born, he’d remove them discreetly to a number of church-run orphanages. You do understand, Mr Malik, that the world was a very different place in those days.’

  ‘I’m certainly beginning to, yes.’

  ‘My grandfather wasn’t a bad man,’ the doctor said. ‘He did what he could to help. In fact, I can help you with the names of the orphanages my grandfather used. Goodness knows whether any of them are still open today, but it’s worth a try. Wait here.’

  Dr Trefusis stood up and was back a few moments later with a slim leather book. ‘This was my grandfather’s medical contacts book, containing addresses and numbers of local hospitals, names of surgeons and the like. At the back are the addresses of three orphanages. Only one of them is in London. Shall I write down the details of it for you?’

  ‘Thank you, although, as you say, who knows if it’s still open?’ Ari sighed. ‘Also, I have no idea whether Moh retained his birth name or not, although I can be accurate as to the day he would have been taken there. It was the day Donald Astbury died.’

  ‘Really? Well, you can check online, I’m sure,’ Dr Trefusis suggested. ‘And if you don’t have any luck, please feel free to contact me and I’ll see what else I can do to help. I must admit I’m now intrigued to hear more of the story.’

  ‘Mabel Smerden is the one to ask, although she swore me to secrecy. Anyway, I mustn’t take up any more of your time,’ Ari said as he stood up. ‘I’ll let you know if I find out what happened to him.’

  ‘Please do that. By the way, how is that delightful patient of mine doing?’

  ‘Extremely well, thanks,’ said Ari as Dr Trefusis walked with him to the front door.

  ‘I must admit to being very taken by her. I’m hardly surprised Lord Astbury was too. You’re a very lucky man, Mr Malik.’ The doctor smiled at him. ‘Goodnight.’

  On his way back to Ashburton, Ari turned in to the Astbury Hall drive, parked his car in the courtyard and went off in search of Rebecca’s suitcase. It took him quite a time to locate the bush where Rebecca had dumped it, but when he did, he stowed it in the back of his car. Then he went inside the Hall and made his way up to the attics to say goodbye to Mabel Smerden.

  She smiled when she saw him. ‘Have you got time for a cup of tea, my love?’ she asked him.

  ‘No, Mrs Smerden, sadly I haven’t. But I just wanted to say goodbye. I leave for London tomorrow and I saw Dr Trefusis this afternoon. He gave me the name of an orphanage in London, so I’m going to investigate it whilst I’m there.’

  ‘Good for you, and do let me know if you find out what happened to him, won’t you?’

  ‘I will, and thank you for trusting me.’

  ‘I’m glad for all of us that the truth has finally come out. My mum, Tilly, thought Anahita was a wonderful woman.’

  ‘She was,’ Ari said proudly.

  ‘Oh, and by the way, I looked this out for you.’ Mabel reached for a photo in a frame on the table beside her and handed it to Ari. ‘It’s the photo of the late Lord Astbury, Anahita and Moh that my dad took from the cottage by the brook.’

  Ari gazed in wonder at the three people in the photograph. Their story was part of him now; he felt it in his bones. ‘Thank you, Mabel, I will treasure this all my life. Goodbye.’

  Ari walked downstairs to retrieve his own possessions from his room. He studied Donald’s diary, before putting it in his holdall with the photograph. Anthony certainly wouldn’t have need of it now and it was his family history too.

  Taking his holdall down to the main entrance hall, he paused for a few seconds under the great dome, thinking of Anahita and all that she had suffered at the hands of the Astburys. He was still wondering why it had been him whom Anahita had trusted to discover the story.

  And then he heard it, soft at first, so soft he simply wondered whether his ears were ringing. But then, as the singing gained in strength, a pure, perfect sound that seemed to swell upwards towards the vast dome above him, he was filled with a strange but beautiful euphoria.

  Ari found tears in his eyes as he stood looking up, finally understanding everything, knowing then that Anahita had passed on far more than just her story to him.

  47

  That evening, Ari and Rebecca ate supper together in her suite.

  ‘You’re amazing,’ he said as he poured her a small glass of wine. ‘If I’d had to go through what you did last night, I’d have been a wreck, I’m sure.’

  ‘Well,’ Rebecca shrugged, ‘I suppose I kind of understand weird behaviour. Even though my mother wasn’t schizophrenic like Anthony, when she drank she could behave aggressively. So I’m used to the strange side of human nature. It’s you who’s the hero, Ari, refusing to take no for an answer and insisting Mrs Trevathan told you where he’d taken me. Thank God!’ She shuddered.

  ‘No wonder Anthony didn’t want me investigating the cottage by the brook. He told me it was derelict when I asked him about it. Of course, the big question is whether you are related to Violet.’

  ‘As I don’t know who my father is, I’ll probably never be able to find out. But you know what?’ said Rebecca, ‘I don’t want to. The past is gone. I want to concentrate on the future now.’

  ‘You’re right, Rebecca, there’s no point dwelling on the past, as you said. I have to follow your lead, be strong and get on with my future, whatever that is.’ Ari sighed.

  ‘Well, I’ll do my best to anyway. I admit that I cried buckets when I saw a photo of Jack with his new girlfriend in the newspaper they delivered to the room. Now that really hurt.’ Rebecca stood up, walked to the sofa and reached underneath it, sheepishly producing a newspaper. ‘It says, “It’s over! Jack bins Becks for his new love!” I suppose I wasn’t expecting anything less than I got,’ she said in resignation.

  ‘I’m sorry, Rebecca.’

  ‘Don’t be. It’s for the best, really. I knew there’d be no going back once I told him to clean up his act. His pride wouldn’t have been able to deal with it.’

  ‘And are the media circling like vultures to get your side of the story?’

  ‘Apparently so. My agent called me while you were out. At least they don’t know I’m staying here for now anyway. But someone is sure to spill the beans – they always do.’

  ‘God, Rebecca, your life isn’t exactly easy, is it?’

  ‘My agent wants me to put out a statement, and you know what? I’ve refused. I’m fed up of playing the game. Who gives a damn what other people think! I know what happened and that’s all that matters. I’m so tired of it all.’ Rebecca shook her head. ‘You won’t believe this, given the last twenty-four hours, but I’m actually sort of missing the peace and quiet of Astbury Hall. No one could get to me there with this kind of shit. I’m on a merry-go-round where my life is served up as public fodder and I just don’t want it any more.’

  ‘I understand,’ said Ari.

  ‘In fact, I’m dreading going back into it.’

  ‘Speaking of going back, I
have to tell you that I need to leave tomorrow morning. I’ve got some things I must do in London before I fly home to India at the end of the week.’

  ‘Do you really have to? I mean, I understand, of course.’

  ‘You’ll be safe now, I’m sure of that. Anthony is taken care of, you’re here at the hotel with the film crew all around you and in a couple of days’ time you’ll be leaving yourself.’

  ‘Yes, I will. So is tonight goodbye?’

  ‘I suppose it is, yes.’

  ‘Well, all I can say is thank you for everything you’ve done to help me over the past few days. I’ll never forget it.’

  ‘Or me, I hope.’ Ari smiled at her.

  ‘No, I couldn’t forget you,’ she said quietly. ‘You know, a few days ago, I’d really convinced myself that I was related to Violet, somehow . . . And maybe I am, but there’s no chance of me ever finding out.’

  Ari looked at her and said, ‘Why, can you not ask your parents?’

  ‘No, my mother is dead and I have no idea who my father was. Anyway, as much as I hate to say it, I’ve got a busy day back on set tomorrow and I need to prepare. And I’m sure you have packing to do yourself,’ she added.

  ‘Okay. I’ll leave you to it.’

  They both stood up.

  ‘Well,’ she said, smiling brightly, ‘I guess this is it.’

  ‘Yes.’

  They walked to the door in silence.

  ‘Well, goodnight, and take care of yourself,’ he said.

  ‘I will.’ Suddenly, Rebecca felt tearful. ‘I’ll walk with you to the elevator,’ she said.

  They left the room side by side and made their way to the lift. He pushed the call button. Neither spoke as the lift arrived.

  ‘Well, goodbye, Ari,’ she said as he stepped inside and the doors began to close.

  He pressed the button to halt the doors. ‘Rebecca?’

  ‘Yes, Ari?’ she asked, her eyes downcast.

  ‘Look at me.’

  Rebecca looked up towards him and he read the emotion in her eyes. It mirrored his own.

  ‘I want to say something before I go. We’ve both got a journey to finish over the next few days, and I have to return to India. But, I think we should meet again soon. Do you agree?’

  The lift doors began to close again. This time, Rebecca put her finger on the button to stop the doors closing.

  ‘Yes,’ she said.

  ‘I want to say also, that if you ever decide to come to India, please let me know.’

  ‘I will.’

  ‘Promise?’

  ‘Promise.’

  The doors began to close and Ari disappeared from view.

  When she returned to Astbury Hall the following day to shoot her scenes, Rebecca felt a flutter of nerves.

  ‘Try not to worry, Rebecca, we’re all here to protect you from any amorous suitors lurking down darkened corridors,’ said Steve comfortingly as he accompanied her into Make-up. ‘Only one more day to go.’

  ‘I’ll be fine,’ she answered, embarrassed that some version of her story seemed to have already become known to the cast and crew.

  Luckily, most of the filming was taking place outside and Rebecca was chauffeured back to the hotel the minute it was over.

  Back at the hotel, Rebecca realised that now she was no longer staying at Astbury Hall, she couldn’t wait to leave Devon. She felt claustrophobic in her suite, albeit the largest in the hotel, and she longed for the wide-open spaces she’d grown used to.

  ‘God help me when I get back to New York,’ she brooded, thinking of her apartment on the high floor of a gleaming steel tower, where she’d be trapped by the paparazzi as soon as she returned to the city.

  But it wasn’t just the sprawling gardens and wild, sweeping moors of Astbury she would be missing, she acknowledged. And it wasn’t Jack, either. An emptiness she found difficult to describe had descended on her in the past twenty-four hours. Simply put, it was as if some part of her had disappeared, and there was a dull ache in place of it. Just now, she refused to acknowledge exactly what that might be.

  On the final day of the shoot, once the director had called it a wrap, the cast and crew stood on the terrace in the glorious evening sunshine and drank champagne.

  ‘Are you sorry it’s over, Becks?’ asked James.

  ‘In many ways, yes. It’s been an amazing experience. I think I’ve grown as a person, as well as an actress.’

  ‘Indeed you have,’ said Robert, putting his arm around her. ‘Wonderful job, darling, really wonderful. Expect awards aplenty next year.’

  ‘Thank you, Robert. I hope I didn’t let you down.’

  ‘Not at all, darling, not at all. And I hope we can work together again very soon.’

  Rebecca glanced across the terrace and saw Mrs Trevathan serving the champagne. Rebecca had avoided speaking to her in the past two days, unwilling to confront what had taken place. But now she knew she must go and say her farewells. Whatever had happened, Mrs Trevathan had been very kind to her.

  As the film crew began to pack up for the last time, Rebecca stepped inside the drawing room and went in search of her. She found her in the kitchen, washing up glasses.

  ‘Hello,’ she said shyly. ‘I’ve just come to say goodbye.’

  Rebecca watched Mrs Trevathan dry her hands on her apron and turn round to look at her, an expression of anguish on her face. ‘Rebecca, I’m so sorry for what happened to you. I hold myself entirely responsible. I was the one person who should have seen where all this was heading.’

  ‘Please don’t blame yourself, Mrs Trevathan, I certainly don’t. I think that you’ve been amazing caring for Anthony for all these years.’

  ‘Well, we do what we must for those we love.’ She sighed. ‘Anyway, I hope you won’t remember your time at Astbury as all bad.’

  ‘Of course I won’t. Putting what happened a few days ago aside, I loved being here. And what about you?’ Rebecca asked her. ‘What will you do with Anthony no longer living here at the Hall for a while?’

  ‘The Astbury Estate is in the hands of the trustees now, dear. They’ll have to decide what they think is best for the place. Even if they decide they’re going to sell it, that’ll take a while.’

  ‘The trustees can do that? I thought it was only Anthony who could make that decision.’

  ‘Yes, but sadly, His Lordship will be declared as not of sound mind. I was going to write to you, dear, because I’ve been to see him every day in hospital and he wants you to know how very sorry he is that he scared you. The trouble was that he fell in love with you, and that made him so confused, the poor thing.’

  ‘I know, Dr Trefusis explained it to me. I’m so sorry.’

  ‘No need for you to be sorry. You can’t help being who you are, dear, nor the effect you had on him. Anyway, if you ever wanted to write to him, I know he’d appreciate your forgiveness. It might help him.’

  ‘Yes, I will.’ Rebecca watched Mrs Trevathan’s face brighten at her acquiescence. ‘So he’s a little better, you say?’

  ‘Well, it’s early days, dear. I find it a bit difficult going to visit him; he cries a lot, you see, and asks to come home because he doesn’t understand yet where he is. He’s very confused, poor lamb. I can only hope they can stabilise him soon. That’s why it would be wonderful if you wrote. He has no one else, you see, except me.’

  ‘I will, I promise. But right now, I’d better be going. I’m leaving for London straight from here.’

  ‘I bet you’ll be glad to get back to your real life in New York.’

  ‘Not just now, to be honest,’ Rebecca admitted. ‘I’ll miss you, Mrs Trevathan, really.’

  ‘Oh, stop it, dear, do! You’ll make me all weepy. Just lovely, you are, dear, lovely. Now, come here and give me a hug.’

  Mrs Trevathan opened her arms, and Rebecca went into them.

  ‘Quite a time we’ve had here since you’ve arrived,’ Mrs Trevathan sighed as she released Rebecca. ‘Are you going to see that
young Indian chap again?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Well, it’s none of my business, but I thought you fit together well. And better for you in the long term than some fly-by-night actor,’ she added and the two of them were silent for a moment at the memory of Jack.

  ‘Maybe.’ Rebecca nodded.

  ‘Well now, you go off and make me proud of you.’

  ‘I’ll try, I promise, and if ever, if ever,’ Rebecca reiterated, ‘you wanted to come across to New York and visit me, you know there’d be a place for you at my apartment for as long as you wanted.’

  ‘Thank you, dear. But I think we both know I can never leave His Lordship, not even for a few days. You write to me as well, do you hear? And tell me what you’re up to.’

  ‘I will, I promise, Mrs Trevathan.’

  ‘Oh, I’ve just remembered. I was going to ask you if perhaps you’d like to take this with you as a keepsake of your time here.’

  Rebecca watched as Mrs Trevathan reached across the sink to the window ledge and retrieved the rose which Anthony had cut for her in the Astbury gardens.

  ‘Can you believe it continued to bloom since I first put it up in your room all those weeks ago?’ said Mrs Trevathan. ‘Then after you left a few days ago, the first petal dropped off. But it’s such a beautiful colour. Perhaps you could press it and keep it in a book? It might help you remember His Lordship as he was.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Rebecca, taking the rose. She understood why Mrs Trevathan wanted her to have it. She put it to her nose and inhaled the still-strong scent. ‘Goodbye, Mrs Trevathan.’

  ‘Goodbye, dear.’

  Rebecca left the kitchen and walked across the main entrance hall. She paused under the great dome, remembering the first time she’d seen Anthony standing by the door.

  ‘Goodbye,’ she whispered into the silence.

  48

  Ari looked out of the window onto the leafy green of the city garden that surrounded the Victorian house. He could hear the chatter of children’s voices playing outside.

  ‘The registrar, Miss Kent, will see you now,’ said the receptionist.