Three Letters

by Josephine Cox

  As he turned into the lane, he saw the rear of Connie’s BMW as it went up the drive. Slowed down by a taxi cutting in front of him, he turned into the drive just as Connie was closing the front door behind her. She didn’t see him as he parked his car behind hers.

  ‘Hi, there, Steve. Back from your travels again, are you?’ That was James Walters next door, poking his head over the fence. ‘Another concert, was it?’

  ‘Not this time, James, no. In fact, I haven’t performed in a concert for some time now.’

  ‘Oh, I see. So, was it business of another nature then?’

  ‘Sort of, yes.’ Retired and regimental, the bloke was a bit of a nosy parker, but he meant no harm.

  ‘Oh, I see. Good man! So, might I be curious, and ask what you’ve got yourself into these days?’

  ‘Oh, this and that … but look, James, I’m sorry I’ve got to go. Catch up with my wife and all that. I’m sure you understand.’

  ‘Oh, I do, I certainly do.’ Giving a sly little wink, he tapped the side of his nose suggestively. ‘A gorgeous wife like yours, who could blame you?’

  When a shrill voice called out for him to, ‘Come inside, James!’ he went away at the double.

  Thankful to be rid of him, Steve let himself into the house, where he went from room to room, searching for Connie.

  He was just about to call out her name when he heard the telephone make an odd little ring. Curious, he picked it up, and was shocked to his roots at the conversation he heard.

  He instantly recognised the voice of the man talking to Connie.

  Don Mills was his new accountant, recently signed up on the retirement of a senior accountant who had previously taken care of Steve’s fnancial affairs.

  Astonished by what was being discussed, Steve continued to eavesdrop on their conversation, something he would never have done before. This time though as the conversation deepened, he felt compelled to hear every word.

  ‘Be careful, Don. We need to be sure we’ve covered every angle.’ Connie was both excited and nervous. ‘I don’t relish the prospect of ending up in prison.’

  ‘Don’t worry, that won’t happen. I know what I’m doing, and I’ve been extra careful. The fact that the bank would only forward money for Steve’s big venture if both your signatures were on the document was in our favour. Added to which, the new house is officially jointly owned, thanks to your powers of persuasion.’

  ‘Oh, I know how to get what I want.’ Connie congratulated herself.

  ‘And don’t I know it!’ Don went on, ‘As you know, these past months, I’ve worked very closely with Steve. I’ve gained his confidence. I’ve made some suggestions and I’ve managed to persuade him that they are in his best interests.’

  He issued a word of warning. ‘Steve is nobody’s fool, and up to now, we’ve been fortunate, because he’s been so tied up with this big project of his that I’ve discreetly managed to manoeuvre him in the right direction.’

  Connie laughed. ‘I always said you were too clever for your own good.’

  ‘Don’t let’s get complacent, though. Steve is a sharp businessman. Normally he’s ahead of the game, especially where finances are concerned. But juggling time, energy and finances is difficult at the best of times, and Steve has had a rough ride with all the travelling and meetings and worries about the project falling apart. Lucky for us he has temporarily taken his eye off the ball, but it won’t be too long before he smells a rat.’

  ‘OK, I see what you’re getting at, and I’ll be careful. I’ll be ready to move when you are.’

  ‘Good! There are still a few tweaks here and there before it’s all tied up, but on the whole, and we’re nearly there. He’ll be stitched up so tight, he won’t even know what’s hit him until it’s too late.’

  ‘Can he come after us?’

  ‘He can try, but it won’t do him any good, not when I’ve done covering up the trail.’

  Connie was jubilant. ‘We’re a good team, you and me. I told you I could twist him round my little finger, didn’t I?’

  Don sniggered. ‘You’re a witch! You’re planning to strip your husband to the bone, and you don’t feel even the slightest twinge of guilt.’

  ‘Why should I?’ She felt a surge of loathing. ‘I cheated to get him, and I cheated to use him for my own ends. I’ve never loved him. In fact I hate it when he’s even in the house. At this very moment he’s headed home, and I can’t wait to get out. I’m only ever happy when he’s away and I can meet up with you.’ She gave a girly giggle. ‘I can’t wait to see you at the Markham Hotel this evening. I hope you’ve booked us a nice room?’

  ‘Of course. The best room for the best girl.’

  ‘I expect I’ll have to be patient,’ she reminded him. ‘Don’t leave any stone unturned. I need to make sure I take what’s mine. I’m not going without what I’m owed. So, check everything twice over, because I don’t want any comeback. I want it tied up so neatly, he hasn’t got a leg to stand on. Stitch him up, Don, and I’ll show you a life you never even dreamed of. All that … and me into the bargain.’

  They laughed at that, before she reminded him again, ‘Eight o’clock at the Markham. Be discreet. We don’t want anything to go wrong at this late stage. It won’t be long before we’re spending his money in some beautiful, hidden corner of the world, while he’s back here, starting all over again.’ The thought gave her a great deal of pleasure.

  Not for the first time, Don realised he must never underestimate her. ‘I hear you loud and clear,’ he said. ‘And, by the way, remind me never to get on the wrong side of you. Remember, just play your part right up to the end. When it’s time, make doubly sure you leave nothng whatsoever that can be traced back to you.’

  ‘Oh, wait a minute!’ His timely reminder jolted her memory. ‘There is just one thing. It’s a little parcel that’s been tucked away for so long I’d forgotten I still had it. Don’t worry, I’ll sort it. It’s always a mistake to keep trophies, don’t you think?’

  ‘For pity’s sake, whatever it is, get rid of it now!’

  ‘Don’t worry, I’ll do it straight away.’

  Angry with herself for having forgotten that vital piece from her past, she replaced the telephone; so intent on her errand, she did not notice the small click as the downstairs phone was also replaced.

  Horrified and deeply shaken at her betrayal, Steve climbed the stairs to confront Connie. He could hardly believe what he had overheard. It was painfully obvious that his wife and the trusted accountant were planning to pauper him, and had been planning it for some time. How could he have been so gullible? How could he not have seen what was happening right under his nose? His anger knew no bounds.

  As he got to the top of the stairs, he could see partly into the bedroom and there was Connie, standing on a chair, reaching into the back of the wardrobe.

  Intrigued, he crept closer, his instincts warning him not to show himself just yet.

  Remaining just out of sight, he watched her as she drew a grubby envelope from the top of the wardrobe. Getting down from the chair, she opened the envelope and peeped inside. ‘Time to get rid of you,’ she said harshly. ‘Time to wipe out the past for ever.’

  When she made for the door, Steve dodged back.

  Keeping her in sight, he watched her go down the stairs. He was nervous when she collected her car keys, coat and handbag from the hallway table, realising that if she went out now, she would see his car and know that he was inside the house. He stayed back and held his breath, reluctant to show his hand just yet.

  A moment later, he breathed a sigh of relief when, carrying her belongings, she made for the kitchen. He then heard her go out of the back door.

  Quickly, he followed, but he didn’t go outside. Instead he looked out of the window and there she was, walking down the long, winding path that led to the orchard. It seemed she was approaching the gardener, who was up the ladder, pruning back the top branches in an old apple tree.

  After ass
uring himself that his house and car keys were in his pocket, Steve hurried out, closing the door behind him. Then he quickly started the car, taking a minute or so to take it round the cul-de-sac and park it where she would not see it.

  That done, he ran back to the house, where he went inside and watched from the kitchen window. He saw her waiting impatiently while the old gardener painstakingly climbed down the ladder.

  When the two of them walked away towards the spare land at the back of the orchard, Steve saw how they went straight to the pile of twigs and shrub cuttings, which were ready to burn for fertiliser. When Connie pointed to the pyre and was apparently issuing instructions to the old gardener, Steve realised with a sinking heart that her intention was to burn the envelope.

  Too late! The old gardener struck a match and, throwing it onto the pyre, he set it alight. Connie threw the envelope into the flames, and then she turned and went out of the side gate, round to her car at the front, and was soon away.

  Frantic, Steve ran down the garden, shouting and yelling for the old gardener to douse the fire.

  ‘It’s all right, sir,’ the old man said, ‘it’s not catching hold properly. Some o’ the branches are still wet from yesterday’s downpour.’

  Greatly relieved, Steve grabbed a branch from the pile and hooked out the smouldering envelope.

  While the old gardener tried to get the fire burning, Steve took the envelope back to the house, where he opened it up.

  He found a letter inside. It was addressed to him.

  It was an emotional and beautiful letter, with the writer telling Steve that she was carrying his child, and that she so needed to meet up with him, so they could talk about it … that though she would be sad and concerned if he didn’t want to see her, she would try not to blame him. But that she really hoped he would want to see her.

  The letter was signed ‘Ruth’.

  Shaken by what he read, he saw the name and his heart turned somersaults. He then dipped into the envelope again and found a photograph. What he saw took his breath away. It was her! Linking arms with Connie was the girl he had fallen in love with on the beach that night. He now realised that she was the same woman he had rescued from those alley thugs, and the woman he had seen going into the boarding house only yesterday.

  He turned the photograph over. Written on the back were the words ‘Me and Ruth at Blackpool Pleasure Beach’.

  Dazed and excited, he read the letter again. Over and over, he read those precious words: ‘I’m carrying your child.’

  Slumping to the floor, he laughed out loud, then he sobbed as though his heart would break.

  Saying her name over and over, he prayed she had not got rid of the child. ‘Ruth,’ he whispered lovingly, ‘I have to find you.’

  Clambering to his feet, he washed his face in the kitchen sink, then he went to the phone and called three companies. In the first two, he arranged for the house locks to be changed, and the security system to be recoded.

  He then rang the bank and authorised his accounts to be frozen, together with all or any transactions already going through. Also, he blocked any attempt to remortgage the house.

  Being well known to the manager, Steve confided, ‘You need to know that my finances are being compromised by my wife, and my accountant.’ He made arrangements to go straight in and sign any relevant document or authority needed to change all his account numbers.

  His phone calls finished, he turned again to Ruth’s letter. Connie must have deliberately kept the letter back, so she could worm her way into his life and push Ruth aside. She was a cold, calculating woman, capable of stealing from him everything he had worked all his life to achieve.

  Thankfully he had discovered the extent of her treachery in time, and he meant for both Connie and her accomplice to get their comeuppance.

  Overriding all of that was his immense joy and excitement. On reading that letter though, his joy was tempered with regret and anger. He hardly dare even think about the possibility that he had a child somewhere.

  Suddenly, his hopes were dashed.

  When he’d taken Ruth back to the boarding house that night of her attack, there was neither sight nor mention of a child.

  For now, though, it was enough that after all this time he had found his Ruth.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  MARILYN WAS CONCERNED. ‘Are you sure you want to go and see them?’

  ‘Yes.’ Ruth had thought long and hard about her decision, and it was only now that she felt strong enough in herself to face Tom’s father and Casey. ‘It’s time to make my peace,’ she said, ‘if only they will let me.’ She was nervous but excited at the same time.

  ‘Do you want me to come with you?’

  ‘Yes … and no. The thing is, I have to try and make amends for what I did, and it’s best if I go on my own. But, I’m grateful for your offer, I really am.’

  The older woman wished her well and saw her to the door. ‘God bless.’ Choked with emotion, she gave Ruth a hug, then she watched her go down the street.

  It’s taken a lot of agonising for her to go and see them, she prayed. Don’t punish her anymore, Lord.

  She remained long enough to see Ruth out of sight, before turning around and going back inside.

  Arriving in Blackburn, Ruth got off the bus and walked along Preston New Road until she came to Addison Street, where Tom’s father lived.

  The walk down to his house seemed never-ending. Eventually, she knocked on Bob Denton’s door.

  She could hear footsteps coming along the passageway. Then a large and friendly-looking woman, her pinny covered in flour, opened the door.

  Ruth was nervous. ‘I’m Ruth, Bob’s daughter-in-law. I’d like to speak with him … if that’s all right?’

  ‘That’s fine by me,’ the woman said, ‘… only he’s not here just now. He and the boy have gone to the churchyard. Being Sunday, they allus tek flowers up to …’ Feeling uncomfortable, she paused. ‘They’ll not be long, I don’t suppose.’

  Ruth thanked her. ‘I’m sorry to have disturbed you.’ She glanced down at the floured apron. ‘Seems I caught you in the middle of cooking.’

  Sensing her discomfort, Dolly asked politely, ‘Would you like to come in and wait for them?’

  ‘Best not,’ Ruth graciously declined. ‘I just needed to talk with Bob … and Casey, my son.’

  ‘Will I tell them you were here?’ Dolly was at a loss as to what she should do.

  ‘No, it’s all right. I’ll come back another time. Thank you all the same.’ Disappointed after plucking up the courage to come here, Ruth reluctantly turned away.

  As she started off up the street, Dolly called after her, ‘I’ve got fresh crumpets and a lardy cake. You’re welcome to share.’

  ‘No, thank you all the same,’ Ruth shook her head, smiled at her, and carried on walking.

  At the top of the street she waited for the bus and quickly climbed aboard when it arrived. When no one was looking, she shed a few tears. She didn’t know if she would ever find the courage to come back here again.

  In the churchyard Casey sat on the ground beside his daddy’s little garden. ‘If I talk out loud, will he hear me, Granddad?’

  ‘I dare say he might.’ Bent over the vase, the old fella was arranging the fresh flowers. ‘Where’s that bottle o’ water, lad?’ He held out his hand and the boy put the bottle of water into his fist.

  Reaching out, Casey tenderly stroked the small, marble headstone that marked the spot where his daddy lay. ‘I love you, Daddy,’ he whispered. ‘I love you every day, and I say a prayer for you at night. Dolly says I might not see you on earth again, but one day I’ll see you, only we don’t know when.’

  When his voice broke and he started crying, Granddad Bob took him in his arms. ‘There, there …’ He rocked him back and forth.

  ‘I’m sorry, Granddad.’ Sniffling, Casey wiped his eyes with the cuff of his sleeve. ‘Only, I can’t help it.’

  ‘I know that. There’s no s
hame in crying, lad,’ he told him. ‘They say it helps to heal the heart.’

  ‘I’m all right now, Granddad.’

  ‘Are yer sure?’

  ‘Course I am!’ He had to be brave.

  After Granddad Bob had finished with the flowers, they went inside to put their pennies in the box and light a candle.

  From her hiding place, Ruth watched them, heartbroken as she remembered that good man lying there.

  ‘I’m sorry, Tom can you forgive me?’

  Coming forward, she knelt by his side and told of her pain and regret, and the guilt at what she had done; how if she could turn back the clock, she would treat him right.

  ‘I was wicked, and I know it now. I don’t ask forgiveness for that because I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve the boy’s love either but, oh God! What I would give to have it all back again, with you and Casey.’

  Surprising her, the old man’s voice boomed out. ‘Yer right! You don’t deserve forgiveness. It don’t matter what yer do now, yer can’t ever make it right. You took my son, and you took this lad’s daddy, and may you never in your miserable life be forgiven!’

  Ruth stood up to face him. ‘Every word you say is true. I know that now, and I’m ashamed of what I did. I’m ashamed that I hurt Tom. He didn’t deserve that.’

  When she now reached out to the boy, he slunk away behind his granddad’s back. ‘I’m so sorry, Casey, I truly am. I was bad, and I don’t know why. But I do love you so very much.’

  When her words were greeted with downcast eyes, she told Bob and her son, ‘It’s too late, I understand that, and I will always be sorry … for everything.’

  She looked at Casey, who was nervously peering up at her. ‘Even though neither of you wants me, I’ll always watch from a distance. You’re my son – I know you’d rather it wasn’t true, but it is – and I want you back. But I have to abide by what you want, and if you send me away, I’ll be unhappy, but I will understand, I promise.’

  When he didn’t answer, and she turned to walk away, the softest breeze got up to ruffle the boy’s hair, and in that moment, in the turmoil of his young heart, he could hear his daddy’s tender words, written in the saddest letter: