Bromington Heights

by Trisha Kelly

  “Jane, come and sit down and hear me out, we’ve never had cross words before, and I don’t want there to be any now. Come on, let’s have a nice cup of tea.”

  Walter filled the kettle with cold water and fetched the teapot down from the self. Jane didn’t answer, she just watched him for a few moments. It was very hard to look at him and feel any anger. He was so mellow, kind, and… and she thought she knew him. Trust was all well and good when you had it, not so nice when it had been broken. Especially when your ‘soulmate’ had the need to hide something from you.

  … “And so, you see, none of the pearl money really belonged to me, did it? So when she sent the letter and there was just a small amount left, I had to make a decision. After donating it all to good causes in Bromington, making sure we were both all right from the sale of the bungalow, bearing in mind we have this lovely cottage, the Garden Centre and our whole lifetime together - I felt a fleeting stab of guilt. Yes, I know what she did, how she acted and all the rest of it. It was a begging letter and I decided to send her the remaining couple of thousand. Two and a half thousand, to be precise. Not for her, but to ease my guilt. I made it plain I never wanted to see her again and I didn’t just keep it from you, I kept it from everyone, except Matt. I was afraid if you and Rosie knew, you would think of me as weak. Most of all, I thought it would keep her away, forever.”

  “Well, now we both know you were wrong, Walter. She’s back and she’s done a hatchet job on poor Rosie. The girl is lying in a fitful sleep. Anna said she was pure white when she went to her this morning. I’m hurt you didn’t tell me; it isn’t about the money. It’s because you went behind my back, I thought I was your best friend, Walter. I thought… we could tell each other anything.” Jane’s eyes filled with tears; her bottom lip trembled. As much as she wanted to be angry with him all she could feel was pain. The hurt of being deceived and an overwhelming desire to protect her soon to be darling stepdaughter.

  “Do you still want to marry me?” Walter asked behind wet eyes.

  “Are you ever going to keep anything from me again?” Jane blubbed, her voice full of emotion.

  “Never,” he whispered. “I’m sorry, please believe me.”

  Grabbing her hands in his, Walter pulled Jane to her feet and tenderly lay her head onto his chest. They stayed locked in a loving embrace for a few minutes. Both of them realising how very lucky they were to have each other in this big, bad world.

  “Well then,” Jane sniffed. “Now we have cleared the air, let’s talk about how we are going to deal with this woman this evening. I’ve a jolly good idea. How about we change the reservation to a table for eleven? I’d like to invite Sandra and Izzy to the great unveiling. There is something else I need to talk to you about as well. Everything James and I have found out from your Aunt Dorothea.”

  By the time Anna returned from a lovely stroll up and down the riverbank she was very relieved to hear laughter coming from the cottage garden. It would seem the grown-ups had sorted out their differences amicably.

  ~

  When Michael had driven back along the coast road that Saturday afternoon he spotted a familiar person sauntering along the clifftop path. He would know that walk anywhere. The slight limp, broad shoulders, far too broad for the man’s height. Now what on earth was he doing in a place like this? In the back of beyond.

  Michael Smith pulled the car over into a small lay-by and got out. He watched him for a few minutes more as he hid behind his car. He wasn’t mistaken. The comb over, the bald patch spreading from the crown. It was him all right. The man he had shared a cell with for some time. Michael got back in the car and carried on staring into the rear-view mirror until he disappeared into the distance. For a few moments he sat there thinking and the pennies began to drop. One by one. This letter demanding money Rosie had told him about in her kitchen. The envelope with her mother’s writing on it. The strange phone number, a phone registered to Michael.

  The man was a forger, a thief, a con artist. He was also dangerous. Michael had no time for his sister, nor his mother. He himself might be a lot of things but he wasn’t violent. Just for a moment he thought about the money in his bank, the scam, and he wondered if he should do the right thing. At least warn someone of his suspicions. Then he thought twice about it, turned the key and drove off.

  ~

  Albert stopped two miles away from the Kings Arms. He’d walked a long way, off the beaten track, through woodland and footpaths. Eventually he sat down by a brook and opened the plastic bag. He wasn’t a fool. Before he left the big house, he’d emptied most of the fridge. No doubt the millionaire could afford to lose the food and soon replace it. Apart from the breakfast it was the best grub he’d eaten for days. Scotch eggs, fancy cheese, a tub of black stuff; he slung that into the bushes and munched his way through roast beef and washed it all down with a pint of creamy topped milk.

  It was only then he came to realise that he’d left his other supplies back at the summerhouse. With a shrug of his shoulders he took out the book once more. Then he removed the bottle of poison, lifting it up towards the sunlight to better see the contents. The dark brown bottle was full. Later tonight he’d be back inside his own home, the job would be done, just as he always knew it would be and the best part was, he would be in the clear. As soon as he watched the man die before his eyes he was going home.

  Albert wasn’t a well-man in his head. He was a fruit-loop and the only person who’d never seen through him had been the person who should have known him the best, his wife, Gladys. Had he ever really known his father he would realise he too was mentally unstable. When he left on a bus he was on a mission, which was why he never returned home. Albert decided when his mother was diagnosed with cancer, he’d help her along. It fascinated him how much pain she was able to take if he swapped her tablets. Or how she suffered more than she should if the food she ate had a little extra sometimes.

  Gladys was just someone else to carry on experimenting with and he’d gained immense pleasure over the years watching her suffer too. He couldn’t do that anymore. Not now the stupid woman had gotten other people involved. Doctors and the suchlike. Still, he doubted he’d ever experience another high like the one he would be responsible for in a few hours from now. The mysterious man had been sent to him; of that he was sure. He settled down on to a broken tree branch and he waited.

  ~

  It was three o’clock in the afternoon when Anna shook Rosie awake. At least the colour had come back to her cheeks. “Rosie, Rosie, wake up, look. I’ve got you a nice cup of tea.”

  Rosie slowly opened her bleary eyes which were slightly bloodshot. “Anna?”

  “Yes, the one and only. Come on sleepy head it’s the middle of the afternoon and we have a ball to go to!”

  “Ball?”

  “Figure of speech. The pre-wedding dinner, remember?”

  “Oh, shoot. What’s the time?”

  “Three o’clock. Don’t panic we aren’t leaving for over four hours. You didn’t sleep last night, remember?”

  Rosie frowned. “They were here, mother and Michael. Did I tell you?”

  Yes, yes you did. Don’t worry about them. I have some things to tell you. Sit yourself up, I’ve made us a late lunch too. Once you’re awake I’ll tell you all about it.”

  “Where’s Bear? Oh, the poor thing, he’s been alone all day.”

  “He’s fine. We’ve been to the harbour, the beach, the Garden Centre. Now he’s downstairs with Mum for an hour.”

  “Oh, Anna. What would I do without you?”

  “Get yourself in trouble probably, daft woman!”

  Rosie listened wide-eyed over lunch and then eventually, she was back! Gone, the doleful, pitiful girl – in her place was the strong young woman Anna knew and loved.

  “You know I gave her a cheque, fool that I am.”

  “Then, stop it.”

  “That’s a good idea. I’m going to ring the bank.” Rosie took the stairs two at a time and jump
ed over the bottom four. Her flat was still locked, a precaution Anna took earlier. Rosie let herself in and found her mobile. What a fool she’d been, giving Michael her new number. She’d have to change it of course, but there was no time today. “Hello? Yes, I’d like to stop a cheque please.”

  A few minutes later, Rosie slumped into her armchair. They were one step ahead, of course they were. The twenty thousand had been cashed. It wasn’t a case of theft, Rosie had written the cheque and given it willingly. The pair of them must be laughing all the way back to the stones they crawled out from. She’d been had. Her, of all people. She’d fallen for their lies. The lying, scheming, lowlifes.

  As for the other matters, it was a good job Sandra was a chatty lady. She was relieved Jane now knew about the money her dad had given. She herself was not meant to know, Matt had told her in confidence. So best she kept her own council on that one. Even so, there was still something Anna was keeping back and she’d been glad when Matt had agreed to her odd request. She’d had to ask him twice. In her mind she still thought if anyone was going after James or even herself, it would be Albert Winston. She knew nothing of this masked stranger, that was the part Anna was keeping to herself. And Jane, James and Walter. But there was someone else she knew all about. Something she would keep to herself.

  Rosie opened her wardrobe. There amongst her going out clothes for this evening was a slim, stab vest, as requested. Courtesy of supplies from the new bobby, ‘Nick’. Matt was persuading James to wear one, as was he, as was Bradley. They would be the only ones in the front line if any attempt was made to hurt James or Rosie. Her fiancé had taken her seriously when she’d explained Jane and Anna were hiding something from her and she could see the fear in their eyes.

  As far as drinks went tonight, they were having wine, unopened bottles brought to their table. Just another precaution. There was no fear either that anything poisonous would be added to their food by the kitchen staff! Rosie would also have one other thing about her person, just in case. And Matt had shown her how to use it, with caution!

  She had attended safer dinner parties. Rosie jumped into the shower in peace, before little Bear knew she was up and awake, and smothered her in big, sloppy, very probably muddy kisses.

  Izzy and Sandra shut shop the moment the last customer left. They just had time to do each other’s hair and throw some clothes together after their last-minute dinner invitation.

  “I’m looking forward to this. What a showdown the pre-wedding dinner is going to be!” Izzy roared with laughter.

  “What if she gets violent, the old woman? She might come after me,” Sandra said.

  “Then she’d have to get through me, have you felt my muscles lately?” Izzy bent her arm and flexed her bicep.

  “Yes, this afternoon, briefly, let me see, last night? Yes, the day before? I think so, and it makes me feel better already!”

  Izzy kissed the top of Sandra’s head. “I have a nice new pair of Doctor Martins. I’ve been saving them for a special occasion,” she teased. Her LGBT steel toe-capped boots shone. She would certainly stick out from the well-dressed diners.

  “Don’t you dare even think about it! Do you think they do proper food? I’m ravenous.”

  “So, am I; shall we have a nibble before we go?”

  “There’s some cheese in the fridge and a few crackers,” Sandra laughed.

  ~

  He was going to change his plan. Walking into the old phone box he rang the Kings Arms. “I’ve got a table for one booked this evening. Can you cancel that please, something’s come up and I can’t make it.”

  Considering how much money would be involved and considering things could escalate into something more sinister, it was best all round he did everything from a distance. From right here, in fact. For now. Gone was the sleeping bag. Thrown into a used clothes green bin. Gone was the crockery and cutlery, thrown into a coloured glass recycle bin, ah well, honest mistake. The breeze picked up and he pulled on a baseball cap. Plain, like his sunglasses; reflective, mirrored, shielding his eyes. He now sat among long thin reeds in a rocky part of the beach. No-one was around. His stomach was rumbling and he ate the food he’d taken from the fridge this morning and downed the bottle of water. All he could do was wait.

  ~

  After the eventful day all the ladies at the B & B were making the most of the early evening, adding finishing touches. Rosie, Anna and Jane were taking a taxi together. Walter was coming with Sybil and Derek. Izzy and Sandra were having pre-drinks at the Flag for an hour and had a taxi booked for 7.15. p.m.

  Meanwhile at the Police Station the three men were ready wearing large shirts and open waistcoats. Concealing the vests as best they could. Rosie had done the same thing. The smocked top she wore showed no sign of the thin vest underneath. With a shawl wrapped around her shoulders and an oversized large bag for the occasion she was carrying off a look more suited to Jane who to be fair, was at heart an aging hippy.

  “Are you really sure this is necessary, Sergeant? My skin will be positively chaffed and reddened.”

  “James, it is only for one evening. We wouldn’t be doing our job otherwise,” Matt smirked. To be fair, he was just trying to make his fiancée feel better when she suggested it. After all, wasn’t poison the weapon of choice? According to the book at least. He too knew nothing of the masked stranger.

  Bradley was used to the vests; he didn’t even notice he was wearing one.

  “So, Oscar - tell me more about Rosie’s friend. Is Anna single?”

  “I think we better use our real names, at least for tonight! The others will think we have gone mad! Yes, as far as I know. There was someone, but…”

  “Ancient history?”

  “Far as I know.” Matt smiled. Anna did have a bit of an eye for the males.

  “Heartbeat characters, am I right?” At long last, James had cottoned on to their banter.

  “Standing joke, James. I’ve come from a warzone in comparison to this small place,” Bradley laughed.

  “Hmm. Well you may just see a bit of action tonight then.” James realised they thought they were protecting him. There was no way he could alarm Matt with talk of a masked stranger and danger to the love of his life. Besides, who listened to mediums anyway, or well-meaning ghosts come to that.

  “Needs must then. I will grin and bear it like a true trooper. Once all this ghastly business is over you must both come to my house-warming party. I will stall it for a reasonable period. We don’t want to overshadow the wedding!”

  Matt nudged James along, they had one mirror between them, and he’d had way more than his fair share of grooming time.

  At seven-fifteen on the 10th August and all the dinner guests were making their way from their respective dwellings.

  Outside in the gardens of the Kings Arms was Albert Winston. Concealed among the bushes, it wouldn’t be dark for another hour. Someone wouldn’t be alive in just over an hour. He couldn’t see the comings and goings of the diners arriving, there was nothing he could do but patiently wait for the stranger. His accomplice, partner in crime.

  Sitting in a quiet corner to the side of the main dining room were Mildred and Michael Smith. Her walking stick was propped against the table and her face once more, a ghostly shade of powdered white. Michael thought she had gone overboard, she looked like she’d been dug up, but why? He couldn’t understand her pretence this evening, they had just come out for a farewell meal together before he took off the following week.

  Saturday evening, the 10th of August

  The guests took their seats for the 19.30 booking. Mildred stole a glance at her watch. She couldn’t see into the main conservatory so decided to let them all settle down. At 8 o’clock she would make herself known. Meanwhile she dug into her fish starter. A staple of life. At these prices she was glad they were going dutch.

  Michael picked at his melon balls. The smell of her stewed fish was making him nauseous. Did she ever eat anything else? His three-course meal was g
oing to cost him the better part of a hundred quid. Even the napkins in this place were thick cloth and expensive. The cutlery was hallmarked silver, heavy. It was all he could do to resist the temptation.

  “It makes a nice change to come to somewhere oozing with class.” Mildred was using her best telephone voice. Meanwhile, in the conservatory the guests were seated. Walter and Jane were at the head of the table, with their backs to the window. Either side of them were Sybil and Derek. Izzy and Sandra next, sitting opposite each other, exchanging mischievous glances. James sat next to Sandra. Rosie and Anna were tucked in next, leaving Bradley and Matt with their backs exposed, sitting beside their respective dinner dates. The men first in line should there be any physical trouble.

  ~

  The stranger glanced at his watch. Five minutes to eight. He would make the phone call in fifteen minutes.

  ~

  Mildred stood from her seat, right on cue and hobbled along with her walking stick. She kept her head down and was hoping to do this swiftly. She’d fooled her daughter and now she was going in for the kill. She knew Walter like the back of her hand and was sure he’d take one look at her pitiful state and jump up to help her. From there they could sit down together away from prying eyes and she’d play the cards which had worked so well the evening before. She approached the conservatory, shuffling and pitiful.

  “Oh, Mrs. Bellamy! I wondered where you were. Look Walter, your sister is here!” Sandra beamed. “I forgot to tell you we were invited too. What a surprise. Cheers everyone, let’s toast the future Bride and Groom.”

  Everyone stood and chinked glasses. “To Walter and Jane. Hip, hip… hooray” they all chanted. Jane took the opportunity to excuse herself afterwards and made her way around the table while the others stood.

  “Let me help you, dear!” She took Mildred firmly by the arm and spun her around in the direction of the toilets.

  “You… you despicable, shrivelled up old bat. How dare you! You came here to con Rosie out of money. Twenty thousand pounds, wasn’t it? Then you have the darn cheek to turn up here tonight. What was the plan? To try the same thing with Walter… again? Did the last two and a half thousand disappear? Well, you listen to me lady, and listen well. Ring a cab and leave. Now. For if you don’t, then the two policemen at our table are going to arrest you for obtaining money by deception. Your precious son will never see the light of day again. And think on this, if I ever, ever, see or hear of you again then that care home you’re conning, and the disability department will hear all about you. Do we understand each other?”