Still Waters

by Linda Kavanagh

  It was becoming increasingly difficult to maintain a cool and distant relationship with Danny. An added difficulty was Fred Heartley’s recent diagnosis of pancreatic cancer, and Ivy had found it difficult to be unsympathetic to Danny when he told her. Instinctively, they’d hugged, but Ivy quickly moved away from him, afraid that he’d use the opportunity to kiss her, or initiate sex. Right now, she’d never let him touch her that way. She felt sorry for him and for Peggy, since they faced losing their father very soon, but there was no way her sympathetic gesture was going to lead to the bedroom.

  Ivy was deeply fond of Fred herself, but her concern was also tinged with relief – soon the poor man wouldn’t need to hope any longer for Joe’s return, and she herself would have one less person to feel guilty about. He’d also be saved the heartache of learning about Danny’s impending divorce.

  Chapter 54

  Ivy looked in her bedroom mirror and gave a satisfied smile. She didn’t look remotely like Ivy Heartley any more. She could almost enjoy playing this role if the reason for doing so wasn’t so critical. Today she had a day off from Bright Lights, so she intended using it to find out what was going on at 6 Cherrywood Road.

  After trawling through all the props she’d borrowed from the Bright Lights wardrobe department, she’d finally decided on a dark, severely cut suit, and teamed it with a high-necked white blouse and sensible shoes. She had also selected a short grey-streaked wig, and it completed the ensemble perfectly, making her look like the competent official she intended playing that day.

  It was a week since she’d called to see the absentee Rosa – a tension-filled week during which she’d had to find numerous excuses to keep her distance from Danny. Ivy hoped that Rosa would be back from her travels by now. If not, she intended playing a role that would enable her to get inside the house, however briefly, so that she could get some understanding of the living arrangements there.

  She also needed to call at a time when someone was in. She didn’t want to go to all the effort of dressing up and preparing herself mentally, only to find that no one was there. She decided that late afternoon would be the best time to call, since the ten-year-old boy would be home from school, and he’d need looking after. But if he was home alone, so much the better. She might get some straight talking from him. Maybe he could confirm if Danny was his father, but how on earth would she bring the conversation round to such a question?

  After the drive to Hampstead, Ivy arrived with time to spare, which she used to mentally prepare herself for the role. Briefly, she checked her utilitarian watch – which she’d substituted for her usual Tag Hueur – confirming that the boy and the Rosa look-alike would hopefully be home by now. It was time to begin playing the most important role of her life.

  Clutching a folder, Ivy made her way up the garden path and rang the bell. If Rosa answered the door, she’d abandon her disguise and get straight down to business. Her heart thumping, she took another deep breath to calm herself.

  Suddenly, the door swung open, and Ivy found herself facing the woman she’d spoken to on her previous visit. Instantly, she sprang into action.

  “I’m from the local council education department – school attendance section,” she said. “May I come in?” She took a step forward, doing her best to portray someone who wasn’t going to take no for an answer. “There’s a boy living here, aged around ten –”

  As if to prove her right, a small boy rushed out into the hall and stared briefly at her. Then he turned to the woman. “Mum, can I have those crisps now? I’ve finished my dinner.”

  “Okay, Sean,” said his mother, and he raced off into the back of the house.

  Ivy felt an overwhelming sense of relief – the boy wasn’t Rosa and Danny’s son!

  She stepped a little closer. “It’s about your son,” she whispered. “He’s been missing school.”

  “What?” the woman looked startled. “But he loves school, and he always gets top marks!”

  “Please, may I come in?” Ivy insisted. “Maybe we can clear this up quickly. And I’d rather the boy wasn’t present.” She looked at her chart. “Sean, isn’t that his name?”

  “Er, yes – okay, you’d better come in.”

  Ivy sighed with relief. Obviously the woman hadn’t realised that she herself had already supplied the boy’s name!

  The woman was looking puzzled and concerned as Ivy stepped into the hall. “I don’t know how Sean could be truanting. I meet him most days after work, and we walk home from school together.”

  As they moved into the cosy sitting room, Ivy consulted her file once again. How on earth was she going to bring the conversation round to Danny?”

  “Do you have a husband, Mrs er –”

  “Brampton,” said the woman. “And no, I don’t. I’m a widow.”

  Ivy peered at her chart again, making sure the woman couldn’t see the blank pages. She was also relieved that Mrs Brampton hadn’t realised that a school-attendance official should already know her name.

  “Ah yes, I’ve Sean Brampton down here for truancy. But you do have a man who visits you, don’t you, Mrs Brampton? Our investigations team has seen a man coming here on a regular basis.” The woman looked surprised, then gave a tinkly laugh. “Oh, you must mean Mr Heartley!”

  Ivy felt both triumph and pain in the same heartbeat.

  “To what purpose is he here, Mrs Brampton?” she asked, dreading the answer. In reality, Mrs Brampton was perfectly entitled to have a male caller, and didn’t need to tell some stranger who came to the door about her private life.

  The woman frowned. “That seems a very personal question, and has nothing to do with Sean truanting from school,” she said, looking suspiciously at Ivy.

  “Oh, I do apologise,” Ivy improvised. “It’s just that I need to list the most influential males in your son’s life. After all, these people have a direct bearing on his development –”

  Ivy knew she was talking rubbish, but she hoped that in some vague way it made sense to the woman. She desperately needed to know what the woman’s connection was to Danny.

  Mrs Brampton thought for a moment. “Well, there’s my brother Tommy – he’s very good with Sean, and often takes him to football matches at the weekend, and my sister’s husband Andy is good with him too –”

  Ivy pretended to be writing these people’s names down, but appearing calm was calling on all her acting skills.

  “And what about Mr Heartley?” she asked, then realised she was holding her breath.

  “Oh, we don’t see him very often.”

  “Sorry, I don’t quite understand –”

  Suddenly, Mrs Brampton laughed. “My goodness – you think he’s my fancy man!”

  She burst into her tinkly laugh again, and Ivy found it difficult to maintain her composure.

  Nevertheless she smiled reassuringly. “Well, yes, I did assume he was your partner – and of course, you’re entitled to have a man friend if you wish – my only concern is your son’s education.”

  Ivy spoke evenly and calmly, although her heart was pounding. She was hoping that Mrs Brampton might explain her relationship to Danny, because she’d no idea what direction her questioning could take next.

  “Well, he’s not,” said Mrs Brampton snootily. “Mr Heartley uses the flat upstairs.”

  Seeing Ivy’s look of surprise, she smiled. “Oh, didn’t you realise? This house is divided into two separate flats.”

  Ivy then remembered that many houses in London, even quite modest ones, had been divided into two or more apartments where possible. Anyway, hadn’t Hannah told her repeatedly that Rosa was also a landlady? This other flat was probably where Rosa lived when she was back in London. And when she wasn’t travelling, Danny came by to be with her.

  “How often is Mr Heartley here?” Ivy asked, before realising that that wasn’t the sort of question an education official would ask.

  “I don’t really know,” said Mrs Brampton, shrugging her shoulders. “I don’
t keep track of his movements.”

  “Is Mr Heartley your landlord?”

  Mrs Brampton nodded. “He only charges us a nominal rent. He just needs someone to keep the place lived in, which suits Sean and me perfectly. We were very lucky to answer his newspaper ad.”

  But Ivy was still puzzled. Mrs Brampton had said Mr Heartley came here. She hadn’t mentioned Rosa. Yet Hannah claimed that Rosa owned the property, although Ivy knew she didn’t. There was clearly something mysterious going on at 6 Cherrywood Road, and Ivy was desperate to find out what it was.

  “So does Mr Heartley come here on certain days?” she asked, trying a more roundabout way of eliciting the information she needed.

  Mrs Brampton’s lips were pursed. “What has that got to do with Sean?” she asked tersely, and Ivy realised she’d taken a step too far.

  “Oh, nothing. I just meant that not having neighbours present all the time would be a bonus,” she said. “Noisy neighbours overhead can be a terrible nuisance.”

  Mrs Brampton nodded silently, clearly basking in her good fortune.

  But Ivy wasn’t finished yet. She had one more question to ask. On her previous visit to the Hampstead house, the woman had confirmed to Ivy that Rosa lived there, and had offered to take a message for her.

  “By the way, Mrs Brampton, who else is living in the house?” She consulted her blank file again. “It says here that there’s also someone called Rosa Dalton in residence –”

  Mrs Brampton bridled again. “I don’t see that it has anything to do with Sean’s school attendance!”

  Ivy gave a placatory smile. “Sorry, I’m just assuming she might be a good influence on your son. So Ms Dalton does live here?”

  Mrs Brampton pulled her cardigan tightly around her. “You’d better speak to Mr Heartley about that,” she said.

  Ivy knew by Mrs Brampton’s attitude that she wasn’t going to get any more information. Was the Rosa look-alike involved in covering up Danny’s affair? It was time to conclude the interview.

  “Now, about Sean truanting from school – oh dear!” she said, looking at her file again.

  “What is it?” asked Mrs Brampton, looking alarmed.

  “Mrs Brampton, I’ve made a terrible mistake – please forgive me!” said Ivy, looking aghast. “I’ve come to the wrong address! It’s another Sean Brampton I’m looking for. I’m so sorry for wasting your time!”

  Rising to her feet quickly, she headed towards the door.

  “So Sean hasn’t been truanting? I thought not, because he’s such a good boy –”

  In the hall, Ivy surreptitiously peered up the stairs to the door of the upstairs flat. Then she turned earnestly to face Mrs Brampton. “Please, Mrs Brampton, I’d be grateful if you wouldn’t mention my visit to anyone – I could get into trouble for bothering you and not getting through my daily quota of cases.”

  “Of course I won’t!” said Mrs Brampton warmly as she opened the front door, relieved and delighted that her Sean wasn’t in serious trouble.

  Smiling, Ivy turned to face her. “You mentioned earlier that you go out to work, Mrs Brampton?”

  “Yes, I work until three each afternoon, at the local doctor’s surgery,” she replied, prepared now to be chatty. “Which means I can meet Sean after school, and we usually walk home together. If there’s an emergency and I’m delayed, he knows where the front-door key is hidden in the garden.”

  Ivy nodded eagerly. “That bond with your child is so important, isn’t it? Well, thanks again, Mrs Brampton, and apologies for intruding on your time.”

  Grimacing, Ivy walked down the garden path and out onto the road. She felt sorry for the brief distress she’d caused the woman over her son. But her evasive answers about Rosa seemed to indicate that she’d been sworn to secrecy about their affair.

  As she got into her car and turned on the ignition, Ivy was already planning her next move. She could challenge Danny face to face about the house he secretly owned and its connection to Rosa, but she knew she’d never get the truth from him. She’d just made the decision to break in next time.

  Chapter 55

  Ivy’s plans for gaining entry to the Hampstead house were put on hold the following day. A call from Peggy informed her that Fred was close to death, and her sister-in-law suggested that she and Danny should visit sooner rather than later.

  Fred was adamantly refusing to go to hospital, and had announced his intention of dying in his own home. The shop had been closed until further notice, but Fred was still worrying about his customers, and Peggy had found it necessary to lie to him about re-opening the shop as soon as possible.

  Danny opted to leave for Willow Haven immediately. But Ivy didn’t dare ask for extra time off from Bright Lights, since she’d had more than her fair share recently. Anyway, the less time she had to spend in her husband’s company, the better, as far as she was concerned.

  When she eventually arrived at Fred’s home above the store, Ivy was greeted by Peggy, who’d moved in to care for him during his final days. As the two women hugged, Peggy quickly let her know that Danny was dining with her husband Ned and the children over at their own house. Ivy nodded her thanks. At one time, she might have cared where Danny was – right now she didn’t give a damn.

  On the landing outside Fred’s bedroom, Peggy wiped her eyes.

  “He doesn’t have long,” she whispered, her eyes red-rimmed as she gestured for Ivy to enter the bedroom. “Call me if –”

  Peggy left the sentence unfinished, and Ivy nodded as she opened the door and entered the room.

  Over the years, she’d grown to love the irascible Fred Heartley, and counted herself lucky that she’d had the opportunity of loving both his sons. And of being best friends with his daughter. But she dreaded meeting those piercing eyes that hadn’t dimmed despite his advancing years. Sometimes, Ivy wondered if he could see right through her, to the very heart of her guilt.

  Stepping into the bedroom, Ivy found Fred wide-awake, and she planted a kiss on his forehead.

  “How are you, Fred? Is there anything I can get you?”

  “I wish you’d all stop fussing,” Fred grumbled. “I’m not shuffling off my mortal coil just yet. I’m worried that no one is running the shop – all my customers will start going to that new-fangled hypermarket across the village. Of course, they won’t get the kind of service they’ve always got at Heartley’s Stores –”

  Ivy nodded. “You’re right about that, Fred, but for now you need to think about yourself and leave the others to worry about the shop. Will I fluff up your pillows? Then maybe you could try to get some sleep?”

  Fred grunted. “I’ll be in eternal sleep soon enough,” he said testily, “but right now, I need to talk to you.”

  Ivy was surprised, and more than a little concerned.

  “Come closer,” he whispered, as she pulled up a chair beside his bed. Although close to death, Fred’s grip was surprisingly strong.

  “Ivy,” he whispered, “I know I can depend on you.”

  Ivy nodded guiltily, not sure what was coming next.

  “The family needs closure, and I’m not going to be around to get it for them.”

  Raising his hand, he silenced any protests about his longevity. “Ivy, will you please keep up the search for Joe? Danny and Peggy need to know what happened to him.”

  Ivy nodded, her eyes filling with tears.

  “And when you find him, tell him how much his old dad loved him? And that he doesn’t need to feel guilty about making his own life elsewhere.” He squeezed Ivy’s hand. “I’ve left a letter for Joe in the drawer of my bedside table. I wrote it a while ago – while I was still capable of writing legibly. My hands are far too weak now. I’m asking you to make sure he gets it.”

  Ivy nodded, unable to speak because of the lump in her throat. At least Fred would die still believing that his eldest son was alive. Surely that was a good thing? Inadvertently, she’d given him hope – how could she be pilloried for that?

>   She did her best to smile. “Of course, Fred. I’m sure Joe will turn up one of these days. Then I’ll give it to him.” Her voice wavered. “Don’t worry – I’m sure he knows you’ve always loved him –”

  Fred grimaced. “I hope so. I wish we hadn’t always been at each other’s throats.”

  Ivy touched his wrinkled hand. “Lots of families have rows – but that doesn’t mean they love each other any less.”

  Fred nodded. “I hope you’re right, Ivy. It’s funny how approaching death makes you realise how unimportant most other things are. Right now, I couldn’t care less how Joe makes his living, but years ago I thought I knew what was best for my family. I didn’t treat them as individuals, with needs and dreams of their own.”

  “But Danny followed you into the retail business,” said Ivy affectionately, “and you have to admit he’s made a great success of it. And Joseph looks like following in his footsteps. In your footsteps. I think you’ve had more influence – good influence – than you could possibly imagine, Fred.”

  Fred smiled, but Ivy knew his thoughts weren’t focused on Danny and Joseph. He was longing for one final chance to make things right with Joe, but of course Ivy knew it was never going to happen.

  Fred Heartley died three days later. He passed away peacefully in his sleep, and Ivy hoped his last dreams were of being with Joe. And if there was an afterlife, father and son would be reunited at last.

  Ivy drove back to Willow Haven the night before Fred’s funeral. Joseph was already there, having taken the train down from university. On arrival at Fred’s house, Ivy quickly hugged her son, then was absorbed into the crowds of people visiting the Heartley home. She nodded across the room to Danny, who was hugging a newly arrived tearful neighbour, before making her way to her sister-in-law Peggy.

  As the two women embraced, both began to weep. But Ivy knew that not all of her tears were for Fred; some of them were for the precariousness of her own situation. She was now back in the mystery caller’s territory, and she wondered if she was already under scrutiny. Was this person here, among the mourners, in this very house? Right now, she’d prefer to think it was Rosa!