by Lorna Cook
Guy smiled knowingly and sat beside her.
‘So I went to the local library …’ Melissa told Guy what she’d discovered and showed him the photo of Freddie’s almanac listing that she’d taken on her phone. ‘It may be something or it may be utterly irrelevant, but I think he’s definitely a brother. I find it hard to believe a visiting relative would be a regular on the cricket team, unless they were really hard up for players and drafted relatives in from across the county.’
Guy looked impressed. ‘Okay,’ he said. ‘This is a working theory. What if the man that was seen with Veronica was mistaken for Sir Albert for one very simple and obvious reason?’
Melissa interjected. ‘They were only seen by a distraught teenager who may have been mistaken and a small child who didn’t know what he was looking at anyway.’
Guy gave her a withering look. ‘Play along would you?’
Melissa laughed.
‘And what if,’ Guy continued, ‘the only reference we can find to anyone who may look remotely like Sir Albert is this Freddie chap. Same last name. Same sort of age. A bit of a regular in the village at one point. Shame that image you found in the book was so blurry.’
‘But we don’t even know if he was there or not – when the house was requisitioned,’ Melissa reasoned.
‘Hmm,’ Guy nodded. ‘There is that.’ Guy looked thoughtfully into the distance towards the end of the hospital ward. ‘You know,’ he said suddenly. ‘There is an easy way to find out who he actually is.’
‘Don’t say birth records, I’ve tried that,’ Melissa offered. ‘I’ve even tried name variations, which threw up fifteen billion results. None of them useful.’
‘But now we have an age for him, it should make it easier. We know the year of birth. If he was twenty-six in 1937, then he was probably born in 1911. Why not try it.’
‘If Veronica did have an affair with Sir Albert’s brother, that’s juicy stuff. But what good will that do us? Finding out if Freddie was a brother?’
Guy slumped in his chair. ‘Oh, I don’t know. I’m out of ideas now. Worth a shot though.’ He pulled his phone out. ‘We can’t do an awful lot from here, but if I give my assistant Philippa the information she can pull birth records for us. She’ll have the answer in minutes.’ He looked at his watch. ‘She’ll have left the office by now, but she’ll pick it up first thing.’ He tapped away on his phone.
‘You can’t use that in here,’ a nurse said as she walked over. She gave him a look that said she knew who he was and Guy gave her a devastating smile in return.
‘Sorry, I’ll go outside. I need to make a few calls.’ He turned to Melissa. ‘You okay here for a bit? I’ll come back with coffee.’
Melissa nodded. ‘Take your time. I’m not going anywhere.’ Although she really should be going home now, albeit reluctantly.
The hospital ward was quiet. Most of the patients were asleep or reading magazines. There were no other visitors; a fact Melissa found odd.
‘Where is everyone?’ she whispered to the nurse. The nurse narrowed her eyes as if she didn’t understand. ‘Other visitors?’ Melissa explained.
‘It’s not visiting hours for another half an hour yet. We let him in today a bit early. Actually, he’s been here most of the day.’ She nodded her head towards the door through which Guy had left the ward.
Melissa smiled. If ever there was a time for special treatment, this was it. When the nurse left, Melissa glanced at Anna whose eyes were on hers.
‘Oh, you’re awake,’ Melissa said.
Anna smiled. ‘Just this second.’ Her voice sounded thin and raspy and Melissa stood up to pour her some water. Anna sipped delicately.
‘Can I do anything else?’ Melissa enquired. ‘Guy’s just stepped out to make some calls, but I can go and fetch him.’
Anna shook her head. ‘Leave him be. He’s been here all day.’
Melissa took the glass from the elderly lady and then sat back down and smiled. She felt awkward being there now. ‘How do you feel?’
‘Like a train has hit me. The oxygen helps.’
‘Oh, would you like …’
‘No dear. Stop fussing.’
Melissa laughed. ‘Sorry.’
‘What have you been doing today?’ Anna said slowly. Her voice rasped and her chest rose and fell in quick succession while she spoke. Melissa winced just looking at her. ‘Tell me something not hospital-related, please.’
Melissa wasn’t sure how much she should say. ‘I’ve been reading some local history books. About Tyneham.’
Anna smiled. ‘Anything interesting?’
‘Yes and no,’ Melissa volunteered.
‘What was the interesting part?’ Anna asked.
‘Nothing much really.’ Melissa wondered if she was feeling brave, if she should chance it. ‘I found Albert’s brother. Playing in a series of local cricket matches.’ Melissa wasn’t sure how this was going to go down.
‘Oh yes?’ Anna said.
Melissa’s bravery grew. ‘Freddie Standish? Quite a batsman apparently.’
‘I wouldn’t know. I don’t know anything about cricket. I never knew the Standish brothers until I started working at the house. And even then, I didn’t know Freddie.’
Melissa’s excitement grew at Anna’s confirmation that Freddie was Albert’s brother.
‘He wasn’t there that often?’
‘Only once, in my time. At the very end.’ Anna sounded far away.
Melissa’s eyes widened. ‘Was he there the day of the requisition?’ Melissa tried not to let excitement tinge her voice.
Anna’s eyes drifted towards the end of her bed. ‘No, he … visited towards the end and went … the night before the requisition,’ she finished quickly. Her gaze drifted back to Melissa. ‘He likes you, you know,’ Anna said.
Melissa had slowly been inching forward in the plastic hospital chair. Without realising it she’d been holding her breath. ‘Er, sorry?’ she exhaled, feeling deflated. Her mind had been forced away from Tyneham suddenly.
‘My grandson.’ Anna looked at Melissa curiously. ‘Guy. He likes you.’
‘Oh. Right.’ Melissa was excitedly processing. Her heart was racing. Freddie was Albert’s brother. And he was there at the end – well, the night before, which was as good as in Melissa’s opinion. Was it Freddie that Veronica had been with in the beach hut? Who else could it be? Albert knew that Veronica had been with someone. If it was his own brother, did Albert know that too?
‘Guy reminds me very much of my husband.’ Anna interrupted Melissa’s thoughts. ‘Sometimes qualities skip generations, you know. Guy’s father is lovely, but in a different way. Thinks nothing of sending his wife in his place to check on me. Considers that a job well done. But in Guy, I see his grandfather almost entirely.’
‘In what way?’ Melissa asked absent-mindedly as she tried to process the information about the Standishes.
‘Guy thinks with his head and his heart. He may overanalyse a situation until it drives you mad, but in the end it’s his heart that will rule any decision.’
Melissa smiled, starting to pay attention. She liked the sound of that. ‘How did you meet Guy’s grandfather?’
It was Anna’s turn to smile. ‘In an air raid. Not long after Tyneham was requisitioned. I’d turned eighteen and had just joined up. I was off to join the WAAF. I was that excited about being able to play my part in the war that when the siren went for the raid I don’t think I even moved. I was too busy grinning from ear to ear looking at my papers. He was home on leave and as he ran past me on his way to take cover from the bombs, he simply grabbed my hand and pulled me along with him to safety. We talked for hours in that shelter, unaware of anyone around us. He was a bit older than me. His parents were very well-to-do, but in the middle of a war none of that seemed to matter very much at all. Nor did it after. He was incredibly kind. Very handsome. Guy’s just like him. Guy’s not a closed book, but neither is he renowned for wearing his heart on his sleeve, so
I can see …’ Anna sounded tired and she trailed off.
‘See?’ Melissa prompted.
‘That he likes you very much indeed.’ Anna yawned sleepily.
Melissa could feel her cheeks reddening. She didn’t know how to reply to that. She looked at Anna, but the elderly lady was closing her eyes as she drifted back to sleep.
Guy gave Melissa a curious look as he returned. ‘What was that about?’
‘Nothing much,’ she fibbed and looked at him thoughtfully, trying to stop a smile spreading on her face.
Guy stretched and yawned. ‘Coffee shop’s closed, would you believe it? I’m taking a few things to Gran’s to wash for her in a bit. Mum’s on her way to take over. Keep me company?’
At Anna’s house Melissa put the wash on while Guy filled the kettle. He sniffed the milk dubiously and then washed it down the sink. ‘It’ll have to be black coffee, I’m afraid.’
They sipped their drinks at the old Formica table in the kitchen while the whir of the washing machine provided a monotonous soundtrack.
‘So Sir Albert did have a brother,’ Guy said once Melissa had relayed what Anna had told her. ‘Interesting. You know, the more I wonder about Veronica sleeping with someone in the beach hut and the more you keep on about Sir Albert’s brother …’
‘Yes?’ Melissa smiled. She knew where this was going.
‘When Reg’s brother saw Veronica with someone, he would have known if he was looking at someone he knew, someone from the village. The village wasn’t that big; everyone knew everyone. John only saw the back of the man’s head, but he thought it was Sir Albert. It could have easily been the brother.’ Guy sipped his coffee. ‘He was there, after all. Gran confirmed that.’
Melissa nodded. ‘It’s all guesswork though, isn’t it? I mean, we’ll never know what really happened and we can’t find any of them after the requisition. Every time we move a bit further forward, it feels as if we get to another standstill.’
Guy looked thoughtful. ‘Can I ask you something?’
Melissa looked at him warily. ‘Yes,’ she replied, one eyebrow raised.
‘What is it about Veronica that’s got you so hooked? I mean,’ he clarified, ‘I’m forever on the hunt for an interesting story, but …’ He left the question hanging in mid-air.
Melissa stiffened and thought about what she should say. That this was some kind of therapy? That she needed to know Veronica had got away from what sounded like a hellish existence? She wondered if she should risk it? No, she’d only frighten him off.
‘You’ve converted me,’ she said. Avoiding frightening him was probably the sensible option. ‘I’m becoming an amateur sleuth and it’s all thanks to you.’
He laughed and it turned into a yawn. ‘God, I’m tired.’
‘Do we need to collect anything for your gran?’ Melissa asked, grateful to change the subject.
‘We’ll hang this washing out, grab Gran a couple of extra nightdresses and then make a move?’
Melissa remembered where she’d seen the nightdresses before in Anna’s room. She also thought of the memory box she’d found and wondered if she should say anything about the oddly blank postcards. They sat in silence sipping their instant coffee.
‘I’ll get the nightdresses,’ she said, washing up her coffee cup and placing it on the draining board.
Melissa had found the clothes Guy had asked her to locate in the bedroom and was absent-mindedly playing with the pink ribbon on one of the nightshirts while staring up at the memory box on the shelf.
Guy swung his head round the door. ‘All set?’ He looked in the direction of her gaze. ‘What’s that?’
Melissa was torn between fibbing outrageously by claiming not to know and confessing that she’d already looked inside on her prior visit. ‘It’s a memory box.’
‘Really?’ He moved towards the wardrobe. ‘How do you know?’
‘I looked inside. Last time we were here. I was on the hunt for writing paper.’
‘Anything interesting in there?’ Guy asked. He slowly reached up and took the box down, positioning it on the bed.
‘A few postcards. Just bits and bobs really.’
He prised the lid off and looked inside.
‘Guy, you’re snooping!’ Melissa cried.
‘Oh right,’ he scoffed. ‘Pot calling the kettle black.’ He gave her a grin and then poked the contents around the box, sitting down on the bed while he took out the stack of postcards. ‘They’re all blank.’ He sounded disappointed. ‘Stamped and addressed, but blank. That’s weird. Don’t you think?’
Melissa agreed. She sat on the bed and folded the nightdresses up, laying them on her lap while Guy flicked through the stack of cards.
‘Hello.’ He pointed to the bottom of one of the postcards. ‘Look at this.’
Melissa took the postcard. Her eyes widened as she read the tiny script at the very bottom. The slanted handwriting wasn’t in the main text box; it had been written at the bottom next to the printed words identifying the cover image. Melissa had only flicked through the batch of cards the first time she’d looked and the writing was so small it wasn’t surprising she hadn’t spotted the faded ink. At the very bottom of the artist postcard, dated March 1944, the words simply said:
Thank you. For everything. Even though it ended the way it did. Veronica. x
CHAPTER 30
Melissa looked at Guy, whose eyebrow was raised as he flipped the card back and forth slowly. ‘Well, well, well,’ he said. ‘Gran said she received some letters and such from Veronica throughout the years.’
He started leafing through the postcards, scanning for more writing and handing them to Melissa to double-check, but all the remaining postcards were blank.
‘Where’s the postmark from?’ Guy asked.
Melissa looked at the stamp. ‘Inverness. Two months after Veronica and Albert were spotted at that swanky-looking ball.’
‘Gran wasn’t lying then, Melissa,’ Guy said softly. ‘Veronica was okay … in the end.’
‘I guess.’ But Melissa was uncertain. ‘“Even though it ended the way it did?”’ she read the postcard out loud again. What did that even mean? That didn’t imply happiness. Melissa remembered what Reg had confirmed, that Albert was nasty. The implication seemed to be that Veronica suffered both emotionally and physically at his hands and that certainly looked the case in the photo of Albert holding Veronica’s hand far too tightly. Melissa held on to the image of Veronica’s frightened face in the photo. ‘I just don’t understand what would possess her to be with him.’
Guy gave her hand a squeeze then tilted his head. ‘What’s that?’ he asked, looking in the box. He let go of her hand and reached over, pulling out an old ornate brass key. He turned it round in his hand.
‘I doubt that opens anything in a post-war bungalow,’ Melissa said. ‘It looks old. Victorian?’
Guy didn’t reply. He was thinking – turning the key over and over. He slowly put it back in the box, then changed his mind, and took it out again. Pocketing it, he replaced the postcards, put the lid on the box and put the box back in the wardrobe.
Melissa raised her eyebrow. ‘What are you thinking?’
‘I’m not sure. Not at the moment anyway.’
She knew she needed to go home, but even thinking about it made her stomach feel tight. She just didn’t want to go. She felt happier throwing caution to the wind and staying in Dorset, with Guy, just for a few days longer, even if the cost of the hotel room was draining her bank balance. She felt she had more to do, more to discover. She couldn’t leave now.
‘I’ll tell you what I’m thinking,’ Melissa said. ‘It’s been a long day. My brain hurts and I’m starving. Let’s deliver this care package to the hospital and go and find somewhere to eat.’
Melissa and Guy were reading their menus at a hotel at the top of the hill that overlooked Lulworth Cove. Melissa couldn’t help staring in wonder at the view. It was magnificent; the cove a near-perfect circle of a
zure blue sea with only a small inlet fenced in by thin green cliffs. She could barely concentrate on the choices of fresh fish and local produce.
‘Wow,’ she said. ‘How did I not know about this place?’
Guy laughed. ‘You’re very welcome. I told you I’d bring you here.’
The last of the sun was shining down, offering them a beautiful view of the almost Caribbean-looking sea. ‘Lulworth Cove was beautiful when we sailed into it before, but seeing it from inland is just breathtaking,’ Melissa said.
Guy nodded. ‘If you like this, you’ll love Durdle Door.’
Melissa looked at him blankly.
‘It’s a rocky arch in the sea, essentially. You can swim through it. It’s huge. Fabulous beach. And yes, it is better looking out to sea rather than in to land, I suppose. But please don’t tell any of my yachty chums I said that.’
The doors of the hotel were wide open, letting the last of the evening sunlight cast a glow upon the diners. Melissa put her elbow on the table, resting her chin on the upturned palm of her hand and taking in the view.
‘It’s just magical. You know,’ she said, dragging her eyes away and on to Guy, who was looking at her and smiling. ‘I was having a terrible holiday this time last week. Meeting you, well, you’ve made it fun. Different. Special,’ she dared.
He reached over and touched her hand. Melissa watched as his thumb started stroking the skin in between her thumb and forefinger. Despite the summer breeze through the open doors, Melissa suddenly felt hot.
Guy’s eyes were fixed on hers. There was a small smile playing about his lips and Melissa looked up just in time to catch it.
A waiter suddenly appeared, thrusting his hand in between them, lighting the candle. Melissa sat up straight and Guy moved back, letting go of her hand. Since he’d kissed her on the boat and then again at the hotel, he’d made no further move on her. She knew they were starting whatever this was slowly, but the candlelit dinner was only serving to get her hopes up. Realisation crashed down on her that a relationship with someone as lovely and as well-known as Guy was probably not likely. This would end up a fling.
