Generations of Love

by Wendy Pulford

  CHAPTER 20

  At this point Sarah signalled Amy for more coffee. She looked around the room. Peter seemed to be lost in thought, staring down at his hands. Luigi, Jerry and Rob were still and silent. Glancing at Christa, she detected the sheen of tears on her face, much like her own. Dougie Johnson looked even more tired, but smiled at her when she touched his arm.

  With the room quiet again, he cleared his throat and continued with the story.

  ‘A week or two after the funerals, I was contacted by solicitors acting for Alex and Catherine. They told me that Alex had left a box in their safekeeping addressed to me, for if anything happened to him. I opened it and found…’ he hesitated and looked around the room, ‘copies of our files. Alex must have been copying all our evidence as he went along. He had also made sure before Sir John’s meeting was supposed to be held that the copies were safe, and out of our office. No one had any idea of their existence, not even me. Alex insisted on carbon copies of anything we typed up and I thought he might be passing these on to this Mr Francis, but I was wrong. It appears he was also making handwritten notes of our other evidence.

  ‘My problem was, what could I do with all this? I would have turned it over to Francis if he’d contacted me, but he didn’t. Who else could I go to? The very person I chose might well have been part of the set-up, and even if they weren’t, I was putting my neck out in advertising the fact that I held certain evidence and knew more than people thought. I admit I was afraid, pure and simple. I put the box in my attic, and left it there. I’ve felt a weight of guilt ever since.’

  His voice began to break. ‘I let Alex down. I let that little girl’s murderer live out his life, and she had once trusted me. I can’t undo all those wasted years, but I have now made up my mind to investigate further. I have contacted you in case anything happens to me, as I need someone else to know the truth; but not someone in the force. Again I say to you, this knowledge could bring with it danger. That’s my dilemma, but I can’t cope with it myself any more.’ He leant back in his chair and closed his eyes, the lines of worry etched on his face.

  As silence descended again, Sarah was sure that every person in the room felt the same way she did: as if they were in some sort of dreadful nightmare.

  She was so lost in thought that it took a moment or two for her to register that Peter had risen to his feet. With a pale, set face and eyes bleak and hard as stone, he looked down at the man opposite him.

  ‘Dougie, I’m prepared to help you. Come and see me as soon as you can with all your evidence and we’ll go through it together, and I promise you I’ll be with you every step of the way.’ He looked around the room. ‘I think I’ll go downstairs now, if you will excuse me.’

  Everyone watched as he walked out, closing the door behind him. No one spoke, but a moment or two later Christa left her seat and followed him.

  Worrying whether she was doing the right thing, Christa went down the stairs to Peter’s rooms. She could hear music playing. As she entered, she saw him standing at the window looking up into the evening sky. She hovered in the doorway, uncertain of his reaction. Would he rather be alone? He had made no acknowledgement of her presence.

  ‘Am I intruding?’

  Not turning from the window, Peter held out an arm to her. She crossed the room and he folded her close. It was obvious that he must be reeling from all he had just heard, and every fibre of her being wanted to offer him any solace he needed. As they stood together, Christa became aware of the haunting melody playing in the background, the notes seeming to swirl around and fill the whole room with their sound.

  ‘This is beautiful music, Peter.’

  He sighed. ‘It’s from Rachmaninov’s Second Symphony. According to Sarah, my father always loved his music. I inherited his vinyl collection, as well as his wristwatch and writing desk. I found I liked the music too, so I now have it on disc, and it’s a kind of connection with him.’

  Christa realised that, for the moment, Peter needed to speak about inconsequential things, while his mind dealt with the shattering revelations. Both silent again as they continued listening to the music, Christa’s heart ached for him. What he had just been told must have shocked him to the core, and torn apart the supposed truths by which he had lived for so long. But he would still never know his parents.

  As the notes died away, Peter looked down at her and spoke, the expression on his face confirming the anguish she could hear in his voice.

  ‘Dear God, I’ve been such a fool, Christa. My father would be ashamed of me. How could I have been so blind? Over all these years, Lionel has let me believe all those lies, when he knew the truth all the time, because he instigated it. I can see now how I’ve been manipulated by him, steered into making choices without question just because I thought of him as family. Why didn’t I query things more? Make my own decisions earlier than I have?’

  He took his arm from around her and slumped down on his bed.

  ‘I could never understand why Lionel wasn’t keen on me working for the Ravens. I thought he would be pleased: they’re a top, well-respected chambers. You see, Christa, it’s him wanting to be in control again, making the choices. But why? To what end? Is it the money? Perhaps there’s more for me to learn about this… mess. All I do know is that I now have a chance to do something to rectify matters, and I’m going to do it, no matter what happens. I owe it to my parents.’ His voice started to break. ‘Oh dear God, why did all this have to happen!’

  Seeing the pain on his face, Christa moved over to sit beside him. Once more he folded her close and buried his face in her hair. She could feel as his body gave way to the tears, the outward sign of the rawness of his internal emotions. Her heart joined in with his sadness.

  As she held Peter close, Christa could see how it had happened. The young, vulnerable boy befriended by his supposed true relative who appeared helpful and caring, but who, over the years, was drip-feeding the young mind with his own ideas. He must have tried to do the same with Catherine. Sarah had been right. The man was a kind of puppeteer, but like Peter she could not understand what he intended to gain by this influence.

  When Peter seemed quieter, she spoke. ‘I’ll do everything I can to help you, Peter. We all will, I’m sure.’

  For a moment longer he hugged her closer in silent thanks, then let her go, and disappeared into the bathroom. On his return she could see that he had himself under control, and was now brisk and efficient.

  ‘I’m going to suggest to Dougie that we collect all the evidence he has and speak to my solicitor, Simon Kingsley, and also the Ravens about it. I trust them, and they’ll be able to judge if the evidence is strong enough to bring it out into the open. I think we must take that chance.’

  ‘I’m sure something can be done, Peter.’

  To her ear his remarks seemed bright and animated, but she sensed underneath that he was still frustrated at the years of misguided infatuation.

  She squeezed his arm. ‘Would you like to run me home?’

  He planted a quick kiss on her forehead. Smiling down at her, he murmured, ‘Thank you. I would like that.’

  *

  Later that night, something woke Christa. Her head was on Peter’s outstretched arm and she was curled into his side. She looked up at him and saw that he was awake, staring at the ceiling.

  ‘What’s the matter, Peter?’

  ‘I’m sorry, did I wake you?’

  ‘It’s alright. Can’t you sleep?’

  He turned to face her, and, in an absentminded gesture, stroked her arm. ‘I keep thinking about all I’ve heard. You know, one thing upsets me more than anything. Did my father know that my mother was dead before he got himself out onto the stairs? If he did, what was he feeling? Why didn’t he stay with her?’

  Christa looked into the pain-filled grey eyes, and wanted to cry. ‘He wouldn’t have known that it was all planned, an
d I suppose he thought it was more important to apprehend what he believed was an intruder and safeguard you, and his home.’

  ‘If, as he thought, it was a burglar, he would have just taken stuff, not lives. It wasn’t worth it.’

  Christa took his hand from her arm and kissed his fingers. ‘Perhaps if he knew about your mother he wanted to catch the person who had done it. Loving her as he did, he would have been beside himself. Then again, Peter, he might not have known anything. He could have been spared that, and then would never know. I prefer to think it was like that.’

  Peter turned on to his back, staring once more at the ceiling. He sighed. ‘Perhaps. I hope it was that way too. Maybe he didn’t know, but I’ll never be sure about that, and so many other things. Do you understand, Christa, just how much I would like to have the chance to talk to them now, as an adult? To know them as real people? They’re like shadows… almost there, but just out of reach.’

  Christa could hear the desperation in his voice.

  ‘Then all the time I’ve been pandering to that… that bastard of a man, who created all this unhappiness! Messing around with other people’s lives for some ideal of his own. And I thought he was so marvellous. It makes me look an idiot – which I am! I wish I’d taken more notice of the comments Sarah and Luigi made over the years about him. I thought they were just envious of the time he spent with me, and in a way I resented their attitude.’

  ‘Without knowing all this other information, Peter, would you have listened to them or believed them? They must have been nervous about speaking out too much. It could have alienated them in your eyes and reduced their contact with you, pushing you more towards Franklin. I think he had all this weighed up from when you were a baby. He had practiced it all once before on your mother, don’t forget. I think anyone in your position would have done the same. Why should you question his supposed helpfulness?

  ‘What worries me is what he would do if he ever found out you knew about him. If Sergeant Johnson is right, awful things happen to people who cross him.’ She clutched his arm. ‘I’m frightened, Peter.’

  He turned her head up to him and stroked her cheek.

  ‘Don’t worry, Christa. It’s up to me to make sure we don’t alert him before we find more answers. Now we’ve been given the chance, we must finish this thing once and for all.’

  He bent his head and kissed her. ‘Thank you for being here for me. It means more than I can say.’ His smile was gentle as he stroked her cheek. ‘Now, although I can think of other nicer things to do, we’d better try to get some sleep.’

  Christa lay for some time listening to Peter’s even breathing. She had realised from the beginning that his attitude to relationships was coloured by what he had been led to believe about his parents. He had been afraid of commitment which in the end might turn out to be in vain. Perhaps, with what he now knew to be the truth, he could start to see things in a different light. She was sure Peter felt something for her, but how deep did it go? One thing she was certain of: he needed her now more than ever, and she would support him in any way she could.

  CHAPTER 21

  Sarah sat in the hospital canteen enjoying a last cup of tea before returning to her afternoon clinic. She was reflecting on the last few days, from the momentous news brought to them by Dougie, to the events still happening.

  When Peter and Christa had left the room that afternoon, Luigi told Dougie what Alex had revealed to him about Lionel Franklin and Catherine’s young life.

  ‘Alex has told me some of what you say, Mr Gandoni, and it seems obvious that some of the monies being used by Franklin was Catherine’s inheritance – now Peter’s.’ With what seemed like reluctance, he went on, ‘Alex also had thoughts about Franklin’s possible involvement with the death of Catherine’s parents. He had the feeling that it, too, was no accident. We were going to try to investigate.’

  This information shook everyone. To think of someone planning Catherine’s death was bad enough, but to contemplate that this sort of thing had happened before was something else.

  When it seemed that Peter would not be returning, Dougie made to leave.

  ‘I’m sorry to have brought you all such distressing news, but thank you for listening to me.’ He looked at Sarah. ‘I’ll bring my papers along one evening during the week, maybe Wednesday. Anything different, and I’ll ring you.’

  Luigi stood and shook hands with him. ‘I apologise for my previous attitude towards you. I think, for Peter’s sake, that there needs to be another person involved to give him moral support, and I would like to join you and Peter if you have no objection.’

  Dougie smiled at him. ‘Thank you, Mr Gandoni. I would be pleased to have you with us.’

  *

  On the Monday morning, Sarah noticed that her car was missing. She assumed Peter had taken Christa home as usual, and not returned. It was her rest day and she did not intend to go out, but it was unlike Peter to keep the vehicle without a word. Before long, however, she heard the sound of car tyres crunching on the driveway. She expected him to go straight to his rooms and was surprised when he came into the kitchen. He would know that she could not fail to realise where he had been for the night, but even if he anticipated any comment from her, she decided she would make none.

  She expected him to be subdued and shattered by the revelations of the day before, but she noted with amazement that there was none of this. He was looking confident and assured, as if he had thrown off a cloak hiding the real person. With this new attitude, the glint in his grey eyes and the hint of stubble on his face, Sarah thought he looked lean and dangerous, awakening fond reminders of his father.

  ‘Sorry I took the car without asking, Sarah. I drove Christa home last night, and didn’t want to come and tell you before we left, not with everyone still there. I’ll get changed and then I’m off to work. Did Dougie make any arrangements with you?’

  ‘He and Luigi will come here on Wednesday evening, if that’s OK with you.’

  ‘Yes, fine. I want to get on with it. I’ll contact Simon Kingsley today and fix an appointment to see him on Friday, if he can make it.’

  He had turned to leave, but then came back and wrapped his arms around her.

  ‘I’m glad I belong to this family.’ He kissed her on the cheek and left.

  Sarah was certain that whatever happened in the end, some good had already come from these last few weeks.

  *

  Luigi had been toying with the idea of mentioning his news from Canada, but after a discussion with Christa it was decided to wait. Michael Hartman had replied to his letter, saying that he too had been thinking of trying to re-establish contact. He apologised to his old friend for the break. He had considered that when he knew Alex was doing well there was no reason to seek news, and anyway delivery of mail was pretty haphazard where he intended going. Luigi in his letter said that he had been assisted by a friend in Canada in finding his address. Michael’s sole comment on this was to mention a visit from a journalist for an article, and that he had wondered whether there was another reason behind the contact. Luigi smiled at this. He would be amazed if he knew the truth. At least it proved that his friend was still as sharp-witted as ever.

  Michael was shocked to hear of Maria’s death, but was glad that Luigi was gaining comfort from his son and grandchildren. He said that he himself had never remarried, and then made the heart-stopping remark that Alex could be a grandfather himself by now. Luigi wanted to write back and tell him the whole story, but on reflection thought that perhaps now was not the time.

  *

  Dougie arrived as arranged on the Wednesday evening. Luigi was already with Peter and, like Sarah, was amazed at the change in him. Had he at last cast off the shadow of Lionel Franklin, to emerge as his true self, rather like his mother had done? He judged that Peter would need all this new confidence in the weeks to come.

  T
he box of papers was soon sorted out, and the three men sat down to sift through the information they contained. Dougie explained the line of reasoning that he and Alex had developed in looking for information, and Luigi could see that Peter was impressed by the astuteness of Alex’s thought processes. He began to appreciate the amount of work the two men must have done to amass all this evidence.

  ‘One of the key moments,’ Dougie told them, ‘was when Alex realised that the troubled company he became aware of might well fit the pattern we were looking for.’

  ‘You see, Luigi,’ Peter explained to him, ‘how certain events could only have happened with inside influence?’

  They then studied the subsequent information obtained on that case and several other similar instances of firms in trouble. In one, the link was made to a man who had been in Court, and his hearing had been presided over by Judge Franklin.

  Peter made particular note of this. ‘Franklin was always giving me advice to take notice of people in Court. Now I know what he meant: establish a connection with people known to be in trouble, and prey on their misfortune by using that knowledge to your advantage. No doubt that’s why he was so keen for me to pursue that particular branch of the law. It would give a continuing supply of people who could be used – like me. But no longer!’ The last few words were uttered in a firm voice, full of resolve.

  Luigi patted Peter’s hand. He had noticed the change to his normal form of address for Franklin, betraying his innermost feelings, and hoped that he would be able to remain calm and focused.

  Dougie went on to explain their other various lines of enquiry. ‘The Ardrossan episode was pivotal. The events there were conclusive, and the best bet yet for tying everyone in, including the Irish connection. The company information we found as to Kelly’s benefactors was also crucial.’