by Neale, Kitty
‘Well, yes, what’s all this about?’ Adam quickly racked his brains to check if he’d done anything recently that might attract the police.
‘Your wife is Ruth Mortimer? Also known as Ruth Hamilton-Smyth?’
‘Yes, she keeps her name for professional purposes,’ Adam bristled, still unable to make out what could have brought on this visit.
‘And she drives a red sports car?’
Gradually, it began to dawn on Adam what this might be about. ‘She does. What’s happened? Has there been an accident?’
‘Not exactly, sir,’ said the older of the two. ‘Maybe you’d better sit down. Through here, is it?’
Confused, and now beginning to fill with dread, Adam allowed them to escort him to his own plush living room. It had been furnished by Ruth, who’d designed every last detail, from the black leather sofas to the chrome light switches. God, that woman had taste. What were these officers about to tell him?
‘I’m very sorry, sir,’ the policeman went on. ‘Your wife was found in a layby just outside Tunbridge Wells. It would seem that she had collapsed.’
‘Collapsed?’ Adam repeated, feeling stupid. ‘Not an accident, then? Is she all right?’
‘Someone called an ambulance and she was taken to hospital,’ the other officer said.
‘Which one?’ Adam was impatient now. ‘Obviously I must go to her at once. Is the car all right? No damage? She’ll be furious if there is. She loves that car.’
The two officers looked at each other and the older one sighed. ‘We can certainly take you to the hospital,’ he said. ‘But I must inform you, sir, that your wife was pronounced dead upon arrival.’
Lorna was washing the dishes when the phone rang. ‘Robert, can you get it?’ Hastily she dried her hands. Very few people called them this late in the evening.
‘Right, right,’ Robert was saying from the hall. ‘That’s terrible … I’m so sorry. Of course. No, absolutely not. We wouldn’t want anyone else to do it. Can you tell me any more? … No, I quite understand. Please let us know if you need anything else. We’ll do it right away.’
He put down the receiver and let out a long sigh. Lorna was seriously worried – that was his equivalent of most people’s shouting and swearing. ‘Whatever is the matter?’ she cried, hurrying to him.
‘Come with me,’ Robert said, putting his arm around Lorna’s shoulder and steering her towards the living room. It was large and yet cosy, as Lorna had kept many of the furnishings from the old flat and had added to them over the years. Now they both sat on the sofa, surrounded by cushions. ‘Lorna, you’ve got to be brave. That was bad news.’ He met her gaze, and she thought how gentle his face was, even though it was beginning to show signs of age. ‘That was Adam. It’s Ruth.’
She shook her head. ‘Ruth? What, is she in trouble? What can she have done?’
‘No, nothing like that,’ he said. ‘I’m afraid she’s dead.’
‘Dead?’ Lorna stared at him as if he’d gone mad. ‘She can’t be. She’s my age. There’s been a mistake.’
‘I’m so sorry,’ he said. ‘There’s been no mistake. She was found in her car. They took her to hospital but it was too late. She was already dead. They’ll have to do a post-mortem but they think it could have been a brain haemorrhage. Did you hear me, Lorna? Do you understand?’
Slowly she shook her head again, unable to believe what he was saying. How could Ruth be dead – dynamic, decisive Ruth? All right, they’d fallen out and had stopped being friends after that last dreadful row in the flat, but because of Penny, they had been part of each other’s lives for years and it didn’t seem possible that the woman was dead.
‘Really?’ she asked. ‘That’s awful, that’s …’ She couldn’t find the words.
‘It is,’ said Robert. ‘But you’ve got to pull yourself together. We haven’t got time to fall apart. You can grieve for her later. But right now, we have something to do.’ He paused. ‘Adam wants us to tell Penny.’
Just over an hour later, they pulled up at the gates of St Martha’s. Lorna shuddered. She hated this place, although she had tried very hard to hide the fact from Penny. No doubt it was an excellent school but she had never been able to forgive Ruth for sending her daughter there. Now Ruth was no longer around to forgive. Lorna hesitated before opening the car door, not sure what to feel – anger that Ruth had been so selfish and stubborn, sorry that she’d died so young and, most of all, dread at how Penny would react.
A glow appeared as someone opened the main door. Lorna recognised the figure of the school secretary, huddled in a thick cardigan. ‘Come in, come in,’ said the woman, ushering them into a side office. ‘I’m very sorry to hear about your friend. The housemistress has gone to fetch Penelope.’
Lorna smiled weakly at the formal name, which nobody else used. ‘Thank you,’ she murmured as the woman passed her a cup of tea. It looked weak in its china cup. Robert smiled at her encouragingly and she tried to sit up straight, to prepare for the ordeal.
The minutes ticked by and the silence seemed endless before there was a knock on the door, and a middle-aged woman led Penny inside. ‘Here are your visitors,’ she said briefly, and withdrew, followed by the secretary.
Penny looked at them and half-smiled. ‘I don’t suppose this is good news, is it?’ she said. ‘I was almost ready to go to bed and Miss Carter came to warn me not to, but not why.’ She sat down on a hard plastic office chair. Its legs squeaked on the parquet floor.
‘You’re right, I’m afraid,’ began Robert. ‘There’s no easy way to put this, Penny. We’re here to tell you … to tell you …’ He swallowed and started again. ‘Your mother is dead. She was taken ill on her way home from work and rushed to hospital but it was no good. They’re doing tests to find out exactly what it was but it’s too late to save her. Penny, we are so sorry.’
Lorna looked up and held out her arms but Penny jerked her head away. She backed away into the door and then fled, her footsteps echoing as she made for the main entrance and ran out into the darkness. Taken aback, Lorna stayed where she was for a moment and then she was off, haring after the girl as if the devil himself was at her heels.
‘Penny!’ she shouted, as she raced across the front lawn, beautifully trimmed even though it was winter. ‘Where are you? Penny!’
From behind the sheds came a strange sound; part scream, part shout. Cautiously Lorna made her way around the corner, to where the moonlight was illuminating the yard behind the sheds. Someone was hitting the wooden wall of the furthest one, making the dreadful noise all the while.
‘Penny,’ she called. ‘I’m here. Stop it, you’ll hurt yourself. Come here.’
The girl didn’t even look up, much less stop what she was doing.
Gradually Lorna edged closer, until she could make out what the noise was.
‘Bitch!’ Penny screamed. ‘Bloody bitch!’
‘No, no,’ Lorna said gently, reaching out, afraid Penny would hurt herself on the splintering wood. ‘Stop it now, Penny, this isn’t helping. Come back inside with me.’
‘Bitch!’ Penny screamed again, punching the wall. ‘I hate her, I hate her, I hate her, she’s a bloody bastard bitch and I hate her.’
Lorna felt like screaming too but forced herself to hold it in. Instead she waited until, slowly, Penny stopped screaming and finally came to a standstill. Then she held out her arms and the girl fell into them.
‘It’s okay,’ soothed Lorna, stroking her back. ‘It will be all right.’
‘It won’t,’ said Penny, and looked up with a frighteningly adult expression on her face. ‘You can stop saying that to me now. I know it wasn’t all right before and it won’t be all right now. She hated me, I hated her, and now it won’t change.’
‘She didn’t hate you,’ protested Lorna, hoping the girl wouldn’t hear the hesitation in her voice. ‘She just didn’t know how to show love, that’s all. Some people don’t.’
‘If that’s what you want to believe, then
fine,’ said Penny bitterly. ‘I know she didn’t want me and she didn’t hide it. I don’t know why she had me.’ She burst into tears once more.
‘Come back inside,’ said Lorna. ‘It’s freezing out here. I want to get warm, even if you don’t.’ She tried to smile. ‘And Robert’s waiting. He’ll always be there when you need him, you do know that, don’t you? Like me. We’ll never let you down.’
‘I know,’ said Penny, sagging exhausted onto Lorna’s shoulder. ‘I do know that and I’m glad you’re here. But I still hate that bloody bastard bitch of an excuse for a mother.’
Chapter Nineteen
‘God, I hate funerals,’ Maureen complained, tightening her belt as the fierce wind threatened to blow open her coat. ‘Don’t know why you dragged me along. You know I never liked Adrianna, sorry, Ruth.’
‘You know exactly why,’ snapped Lorna. Her usual patience had been severely tested over the last couple of weeks and she was in no mood for her cousin’s dramatics. ‘Because I need you and Penny needs you. Is that good enough? Can you think of two better reasons?’
Maureen looked contrite. ‘No, you’re right, of course,’ she said. ‘That poor girl needs all the help she can get and it’s not fair that you and Robert have to do it all. Don’t suppose he’s any help.’ She nodded to where Adam was standing outside the church, immaculate in a beautiful formal black suit and cashmere coat. ‘He never was when the tart was alive, so don’t imagine he’d bother to start now. Anyway.’ Maureen stroked the fur collar on her coat. ‘Gives me a chance to wear this. It’s too sober for Soho, there’s no call for it there.’ She flashed her eyes, then remembered she was at a funeral.
‘Give it a rest,’ said Lorna, but she didn’t mean it. It was a great relief to have her cousin there, joking, keeping their spirits up. Even if her skirt was far too short for the occasion and her blouse open just one button too far.
‘Where’s Penny now?’ asked Maureen, looking round as her hair blew across her face. ‘Can’t believe how tall she’s got in the couple of months since I seen her last. She’s going to turn some heads before long, no doubt about it.’
‘Well, don’t tell her that,’ said Lorna firmly. ‘She’s got her exams soon and she needs to concentrate on getting those. She should do well, especially in Spanish. Seems as if she picked up far more than her mother or I ever did and now her teachers say she could be really good.’ For a moment Lorna forgot where she was, full of pride in Penny’s achievements. Then she groaned. ‘That’s if she picks herself up after all this. It’s hit her really hard. Not surprising though.’ She shook her head. ‘She’s with Robert, over there.’
Maureen looked across to where she was pointing. ‘And who’s that other bloke? The one who looks like a crow?’
‘Hmm, see what you mean,’ agreed Lorna, catching sight of the man’s beaky face. He had dark hair and, like many of the others, wore a long black coat. ‘He’s Adam and Ruth’s solicitor – well, suppose he’s just Adam’s solicitor now. Looks like most of the people here are business acquaintances. Don’t think Ruth had any family – or she never talked of any – and now it seems as if she didn’t have many friends either.’
‘Are you surprised?’ asked Maureen bluntly. ‘Wasn’t exactly a friend in need, was she? Not known for her kindness?’
‘She gave me somewhere to live and a job when I needed it,’ Lorna replied, remembering how close she’d come to giving up and moving back in with her mother. ‘I’ll always be grateful for that, even if it ended badly.’
‘Exploited you for her own ends, more like,’ Maureen pointed out. ‘Got a cheap housekeeper and babysitter, all in one go. All right, all right, I won’t go on, but just so’s you don’t go thinking she was a saint just because she’s dead. She wasn’t.’
Lorna turned away. She hated speaking ill of the dead. ‘Look, Robert’s waving us over, we’d better go.’
The two women made their way across to where Robert was standing with Penny and the crow-like solicitor. ‘This is Kenneth Morris, Adam’s lawyer. He’s asked to have a word with Penny, so I said we’d stop by his office on the way back to the house.’
Lorna had generously asked everyone round after the service, guessing correctly that nobody else would offer. ‘Well, yes, you do that,’ she said. ‘Just don’t be too long, as I’ll need someone to help me with the corkscrew.’
‘Don’t you worry, I can handle that,’ said Maureen, just as Robert assured them that of course he wouldn’t let them down.
‘I can’t believe it. That takes the biscuit, even for her.’ The guests had gone and Lorna was free to give vent to her anger, all thoughts of not speaking ill of the dead blown away by the information Robert had learnt from the solicitor. ‘How could she?’
‘Come on, it’s exactly what you would have expected,’ blazed Maureen. ‘When did she ever think about anyone other than herself?’
‘Look, she had no way of knowing she would die young,’ said Robert reasonably. ‘I don’t think we can blame her for that. Who of her age makes a will?’
‘Not me,’ admitted Maureen, ‘but then I’ve not got nothing to leave so it don’t really count.’
‘Well, I’ve made one,’ said Lorna, turning to her husband, ‘and so have you. And one of the reasons we did it was so that Penny wouldn’t be left with nothing if we were both to die suddenly. But that never entered her head. So Adam gets the lot and she has to rely on him doing the decent thing.’
‘Don’t hold your breath there,’ Maureen said instantly. ‘Him and Ruth was birds of a feather, both as bad as the other. Looking out for number one. End of. Which leaves Penny in a right pickle.’ She sank down on the sofa. ‘Is that some red left? Don’t mind if I do.’
‘Steady on,’ said Lorna, even though she was longing for a drink herself. ‘You had a few earlier, remember.’
‘So?’ Maureen tossed her hair. ‘Might as well enjoy meself somehow. Ain’t going to happen remembering the dear departed, is it?’ She knocked back half the glass in one go and made to top herself up.
‘Fair point,’ agreed Lorna, giving in. ‘I’ll join you. I’ve been on my feet all day, waiting hand and foot on those … those … bloody people.’
‘Lorna!’ cried Maureen. ‘You swore! Oh you are cross!’
‘Yes, those bloody people.’ One sip had broken down Lorna’s reserve. ‘Those parasites, those vultures with their Savile Row suits and fake accents. Didn’t offer to pass anything round, didn’t bring anything, just stood there, exchanging business cards, like it was a bloody conference or something. Probably hardly knew Ruth.’
‘Well, the Ruth we knew was very different to the Ruth they knew.’ Maureen banged down her glass for emphasis.
‘God, you’re loud,’ said Penny, coming into the room. ‘Is it safe here now? Have they all gone?’
‘Too bleedin’ right they have,’ Maureen half-shouted. ‘Come on in here, Penny my lovely, and sit with your Aunty Maureen.’ She patted the cushions beside her.
Despite the occasion, Penny had to smile. ‘Is that what you are now officially?’ she grinned. ‘And what did you mean about the Ruth you knew being different?’
Robert cleared his throat ominously but Maureen was in full flow and there was no stopping her. ‘Because we went back a long way, your mum and me,’ she said, waving her now-empty glass. ‘Way back before Spain, way back before Lorna knew her. Oh yes. Mrs High-and-mighty Hamilton-Smyth didn’t always have the posh clothes and lovely penthouse, though I grant you she always looked down her nose at everyone else like they was a piece of shit on her shoe, even back then. No, when I first knew your mum she was a stripper called Adrianna.’
After that bombshell, going back to school seemed pretty tame to Penny. Robert had carefully checked that her fees had been paid and that she wouldn’t have to go cap in hand to Adam, but it seemed that Ruth had at least settled the amount until the end of the school year.
‘I wouldn’t mind not going,’ said Penny hopefully, knowing t
hat she could never expect any of her sheltered classmates to understand what had just gone on. But Robert and Lorna insisted that she take her exams. So it was back for another term of mind-numbing lessons and revising and then the O-levels. Penny had no idea how she’d done but didn’t really care. The only subject she really liked was Spanish, and that was because it came easily. She quite liked Geography, or at least the parts of it that let her imagine living in different places around the world. If dancing had been an exam she’d have loved that, but other than appearing in school plays there was little opportunity. She knew some of the older girls crept out to go to Brighton on Friday and Saturday nights but she’d never been asked along and besides, despite now being taller than most of her friends, she wasn’t convinced she’d pass as old enough.
Still it was a shock to be called to the headmistress’s office to be informed that after the summer there would be no more St Martha’s.
‘It seems your stepfather feels the expenditure is not worth the rewards,’ said the stern woman.
‘What?’ said Penny, confused.
‘He’s not going to pay your fees,’ said the headmistress. ‘That’s sad, but it happens. Many families feel it is time to move on when a pupil reaches sixteen. And in a few weeks’ time that will be you.’
Families, thought Penny, what a joke. Adam might be her stepfather according to the letter of the law but he’d never shown the slightest interest in her, let alone any affection. She didn’t know how she felt about the situation. She didn’t particularly like her school, but her mother had insisted she go there. While Penny knew that was mostly a matter of convenience, combined with the status of having a daughter at a prestigious school, very occasionally Ruth had implied she thought getting girls educated was important. Clearly Adam didn’t agree.
Penny didn’t know what to do. Finally she phoned Lorna and Robert.
Lorna managed not to exclaim what she thought of Adam but wasn’t really surprised. In some ways he was totally tight-fisted and he’d rather spend more on his beloved penthouse than on his stepdaughter.
