by Amanda James
She nods her head vigorously and tears splash onto the table. ‘Yes, I know … I know. It’s a relief, I suppose. But what a hell you’ve been through, love. And this Nathan. Ransom sent him to kill you … and someone else to kill Immi too? Are you sure?’
‘Yes, I’m sure. How could someone do that to their own child?’
This brings fresh tears from Mum and I hand her some kitchen roll. She wipes her face and says, ‘Bloody hell, Bryony. It’s all too much to take in. What a complete and utter bastard he was.’ She looks at me from staring red-rimmed eyes and I wish I’d stuck to the dribs and drabs idea of information telling.
‘I’m sorry, Mum. I’ve upset your day, and you were so looking forward to making the lovely meal and everything. We could put it off until later in the week—’
She holds up a hand. ‘We bloody well could not! I’m not having that bastard calling the shots from beyond the grave after everything else he’s done.’ Mum wipes her eyes some more, blows her nose and gives me a watery smile. ‘We are having this meal and we’re going to celebrate your homecoming and a hell of a lot more besides, now I know what’s behind it!’ She stands up and holds me tight. ‘Thank God you’re safe, love, because if anything had happened to you—’
‘Nothing has and nothing will,’ I say, giving her a squeeze. ‘Now I’m off to make myself beautiful while you carry on beavering away.’ I look at her, pull a face and say in a grudging tone, ‘Unless you want any help?’ Without giving her a chance to reply I rush to the door. ‘Thought not, see ya later!’
She chuckles and throws after me, ‘Well that’s just typical, you cheeky monkey!’
It could have gone much worse between Mum and Nathan tonight. I think she’s too relieved that everything is fine now, that I’m safe, to be too angry with him. He apologised and promised that he would never have actually taken my life, regardless of the fact that I saved his, and she accepted it. She was also glad to hear that his mum had suffered no ill effects from being kidnapped and was doing well now in her new home and happier than she had been for years.
Jen and Graham are the only ones around the table that have no clue about what’s really happened. We had to come up with a story for why Nathan isn’t called Jacob anymore, so told part of the truth. We said Ransom had let slip that he was after me, and that Nathan, who worked for a friend of his, had overheard and came to warn me. He used a fake name because he was worried I might have come across his name in my investigations. We mentioned that Ransom had turned on Immi too, but not to bring it up in conversation – it’s too upsetting and this is a celebration.
Immi is the life and soul of the party and has us all in stitches for most of the time. I’m so glad she’s on form, but I do worry that she’s overcompensating by going over the top and drinking too much. I don’t want her getting completely rat-arsed because I have a little surprise for her later. Thinking of which, I check the time … nearly 9.30. Great, best get the coffee on.
Mum joins me in the kitchen and pours the last of the champagne into her glass. She’s been drinking far more than usual too. Understandable, I guess. ‘Coffee?’ I ask, waving the cafetière at her.
‘You trying to say I need soldering up?’ Mum laughs and trips over a chair leg.
I crack out laughing at that. ‘You will need soldering if you don’t stop tripping over the furniture.’
‘I didn’t say soldering … did I?’ Mum hiccups.
I give her a withering look and put the kettle on. There’s a message beeping on my phone. I give it a quick glance. ‘Right. Immi’s surprise will be here any minute. Go and make sure she’s not dancing on the table with no knickers on!’ Mum shrieks with laughter and totters into the dining room.
Once I’ve checked that everyone is sitting round the table with coffee, I sneak to the front door and run down the driveway to a parked car at the end. The window goes down and I give the driver the nod. Then I rush back inside and grab Immi’s arm. ‘Can I borrow you for a moment, Immi?’
‘Not the washing up.’ She looks up at me and holds up the sign of the cross with her forefingers. ‘Anything but that!’
‘No. Something far nicer.’
Puzzled, Immi stands up and follows me out into the hallway and I close the dining room door behind us. Then her hands come up to her mouth and she shrieks, ‘Jonathan! Oh, my word!’
Jonathan gives her a huge smile and steps forward, arms outstretched. As she runs into them, tears of happiness rolling down her face, I retreat to the dining room and my thumbs up is greeted with whoops of joy. Everyone has been in the know about Jonathan except Immi. I breathe a sigh of relief and sit down, thankful that this gamble has paid off.
Nathan takes my hand and kisses the back of it. ‘Well done, Bryony. Immi can have her happy ever after now too, hopefully.’
‘Yeah, here’s hoping.’ I smile at him and allow the little flame of hope for my own happy ever after a bit more oxygen.
An hour later, I kiss Nathan goodnight with a promise to spend the day with him tomorrow and send him back to the hotel in a taxi. He’s a bit disappointed that we aren’t spending the night together but, as I remind him, we are taking it slowly. Having said that, I can imagine that most of tomorrow will be spent in bed. Immi and Jonathan have gone to his hotel to chat things over, and with a satisfied smile on my lips I wander into the kitchen to find Graham stacking the dishwasher. ‘Oh, I thought Mum and Jen were doing that?’
Graham looks up. ‘Yeah, they were, but your mum got a bit tearful – think she’s had too much pop.’ He grins. ‘Anyway, she went to the bathroom so Jen went up to see how she was.’
‘Ah. I’ll go see how she’s doing.’ I climb the stairs worrying that she’s upset again about what I told her, and hope she’s not telling Jen all about it – we’d agreed to stick to the doctored version. As I clear the last stair, I hear a sob from Mum’s room at the end of the corridor. Sounds like Mum. Then Jen’s voice comes low and urgent, but I can’t make out what she’s saying. Instinct tells me whatever they’re talking about isn’t for my ears, but I tiptoe along the dark corridor anyway. I stand outside the door and a sliver of light comes through the crack.
‘It’s no good torturing yourself, Gilly. It’s over and done and you need to just forget about it,’ Jen says. ‘You’ve had too much to drink and it will all seem better in the morning.’
‘How can it?’ Mum wails.
‘Shhh. Keep it down.’
Mum lowers her voice, so I press my ear to the slight crack in the door. ‘… do that to his own daughter? I mean, what kind of fucking monster was he?’
Right. They’re obviously taking about Immi. Poor Mum is such a caring person; it’s all hit her hard. I’m about to leave when Jen says, ‘Come on, G. You know exactly what a fucking monster he was from the off. I wouldn’t be surprised at anything he ever did.’
‘Not at first, Jen. At first he was charming, sweet. He certainly bloody charmed me, idiot that I was back then,’ Mum says and blows her nose. A prickling sensation starts at the base of my spine and I wrap my arms around myself. I want to leave, but my feet root me to the spot.
‘As I said, no use in going over it. She’ll never know the truth, thank God. You’re lucky he took it to his grave. Beats me why he never told her just to spite her.’
‘Not his style. He’d have seen it as some kind of weakness to have a copper for a daughter. And he would have looked bad in front of Immi – cheating on her mum – wouldn’t he? No. He’d rather see her dead. Oh, Jen, what would I have done if he’d had her killed? I couldn’t have gone on …’ There’s a heavy sigh. ‘But as you say – she’ll never know now, thank the Lord.’
I can’t breathe. There’s a giddy feeling in my head and then my feet suddenly decide to move me, but into the room instead of away. My fist comes up and I smash the door back on its hinges. The two women jump up from the edge of the bed, mouths agape, shock and guilt splashed red across both faces. Then Mum’s face drains of colour as
she sees the look of absolute fury on mine. A moment later I hear myself say in a strange, high-pitched voice, ‘It’s too late … she already knows.’
41
Nathan turns out the bedside light and breathes a sigh of relief. Thank goodness Bryony is eventually asleep. He settles down under the duvet and closes his eyes, wanting to put his arms around her but worried that he’ll wake her. When he’d left her mum’s tonight he’d wished she was coming back to his hotel. The wish was granted, but he wishes now it hadn’t been – not like this.
Bryony had arrived at his room at midnight, completely distraught, and it had been at least ten minutes before he could get out of her what was wrong. Nathan could hardly believe what she was saying and had to ask a number of times if she might have got it wrong. What a terrible, terrible shock to find that Ransom had been her biological father. It didn’t bear thinking about. The fact that he had known made it even more horrific. That monster had been prepared to have both his daughters murdered. Nathan turns over in bed and tries to block his mind.
Ten minutes later he’s still thinking about it. What a mess. Bryony and her mum having a huge fall out, Bryony getting her stuff and leaving, Immi oblivious at the hotel with Jonathan and tomorrow, or today actually – the clock tells him it’s 2.30am – Bryony will have to tell her all about it. The only positive thing to come out of it all is that Bryony and Immi are half-sisters. Perhaps he should be there when Bryony breaks the news so he can keep trying to inject the positive, because there’s going to be precious little of that.
One other positive thing, from a purely selfish point of view, is that Bryony came to him in her hour of need. She didn’t go to a hotel, or to Immi, she came to him. Okay, so going to Immi wouldn’t have been fair on her as she was having a moment of happiness with Jonathan, but still. It felt good that she needed him. With all his heart he hoped that they would make it. No more lies, secrets or half-truths, just honesty and straightforwardness. Nathan closes his eyes again. Half-truths. He’d have to tell Bryony the other half of something he’d kept back from her if he was to have a clean slate … especially now.
The hiss of the shower wakes him. It can’t be 8.30? It only feels like five minutes since he closed his eyes. Sitting on the edge of the bed, Nathan stretches and yawns just as the shower stops and Bryony comes into the bedroom wrapped in a towel. Well, two, one is wrapped around her hair like a turban. Nathan never could figure out how to do that, but women seem to have the method woven into their DNA. He’d like to take one of the towels away and sit her on his lap, but given the circumstances he’d probably get short shrift.
‘Morning, beautiful,’ he says with a big smile.
‘Morning.’ Bryony’s smile is small, fake and fleeting.
‘How are you feeling?’ Nathan wonders if his brain has activated yet. How does he expect she’ll be feeling?
Bryony finds her underwear, quickly dries herself and starts to get dressed. Nathan tries not to look. ‘Oh, you know. Pretty crap. Not sure if I’m going to mention anything to Immi until Jonathan has gone back. It’s really not fair.’
‘Hmm.’
‘What’s that mean?’ She glances at him, takes the towel off her head and scrubs at her hair with it.
‘I think she might want to know. She’ll want to comfort you – you can comfort each other. And like I said last night, she’s your sister … that’s something good, isn’t it?’
Bryony looks at him, head on one side. ‘I suppose you could be right. After all, I hate things being kept from me.’ She combs her hair through. ‘Let’s consider it over breakfast.’
As they’re finishing breakfast in the hotel dining room, Bryony’s phone rings. It’s Immi. Seems like the decision to tell or not has been taken out of their hands. From what Nathan can glean, Bryony’s mum has phoned Immi to see if Bryony is with her. She has told her they had a huge falling out but not what it was about. Bryony ends the call and gives a big sigh. ‘She’s on her way over here.’
‘Do you want me to stay … help out?’
‘No. I think it’s best if I do this – she might feel a bit more vulnerable if you’re here too.’
Nathan nods and drains his cup. Now might be the worst time to tell his half-truth. It might be the best … who knew? Just do it. ‘There’s one thing I need to get straight. From now on our relationship has to be completely honest and … well, no secrets.’
Bryony’s face falls. She looks at him, wipes her mouth with her napkin. ‘God, Nate. I’m not sure I can take any more revelations just now. How bad is it?’
‘Not sure. What I mean is, I’m not sure how you’ll take it given the fact that you know now that Ransom was—’
She holds her hands up. ‘Don’t say it. He wasn’t, could never be … yes, biologically he was, but my dad …’ Bryony swallows hard. ‘My dad was the best dad in the world and always will be to me.’
‘Yes, of course.’ Nathan takes her hand across the table. ‘The thing is, you know when you asked if I knew more about Ransom’s death than I was letting on?’ A nod. ‘I do. Well, I think I do, but not for sure. As you know, Dawson did the dirty on Charlie Kreswell and he and Ransom are old enemies. Well, when I found out, it rang a bell. His brother Rob’s in Wakefield, so I thought a few well-chosen words sent round the grapevine might—’
‘You thought that once Rob knew his brother was fingered by Dawson, Ransom’s man, he might kill him?’ Bryony’s eyes are round with disbelief.
‘No. I didn’t know for sure that he’d kill him – perhaps hurt him. Maybe put him out of action for a bit so we had more breathing space.’ Even as he says this he knows he’s kidding himself. ‘And anyway, they’re only rumours that Rob had a hand in the “suicide”, no proof. The coppers aren’t that fussed about investigating either.’
Bryony takes her hand back, shrugs, looks at the table. Nathan wishes she’d say something. ‘I see,’ she says in an offhand manner.
Not quite what he was hoping for. ‘Look, love. If I’d known what I know now, I wouldn’t have done it. I just had to be straight with you.’
Her eyes flick up to his, cold anger burning in them. ‘How many times? He was not my father! I have no feelings for him apart from loathing and contempt. If what you said on the grapevine got him killed, then so what? If it didn’t, so what? He’s dead either way, and I for one am very pleased that he is.’
Nathan leans back in his chair. ‘Ri-ght.’ That went well.
Bryony’s eyes soften and she gives him a little smile. ‘Look. I’m glad you told me because yes, if we’re to make a proper go of things there must be no secrets, and I suspected you knew more anyway. It’s just, right now, all I really care about is talking to my sister and trying to make sense of what the fuck my mother was thinking when she …’ Her hands come up to her face. ‘When she did what she did.’
Nathan takes her hands from her face and holds them. ‘Of course you do. I’ll wait for you in my room, and call me if you need me, okay?’ He kisses her and stands up. As he does, Immi rushes into the dining room like a mini tornado.
‘Oh my God, Bryony, what the hell has happened with you and your mum?’ she says, and runs at Bryony who’s half standing and nearly knocks her flying with the force of her hug. Nathan thinks they’ll be fine and decides to make himself scarce.
The hotel dining room is half full and some diners have already been treated to a scene of me ripping Nate’s head off. The thought of more prying eyes and eavesdroppers turns my stomach, so I suggest to Immi that we go for a walk on the beach to talk. Immi is very impatient to find out what’s been going on and practically drags me out of the hotel and down the steps to Towan beach. The morning is cold and drizzly, so we mostly have it to ourselves apart from a few dog walkers.
Once she’s perched herself on a rock Immi says, ‘Right, so tell me.’
I sit myself down and suddenly find that my mouth is dry; the words can’t get past my tongue. ‘Bloody hell, Immi … I don’t know where to start.
’
She raises her eyebrows. ‘At the beginning, and just say it. Come on, we’ve been through too much for you to worry about what I’ll think.’
I take her hand and blurt it all out. Then I take my hand back, dig out a tissue from my bag and wipe my tears and snotty nose. ‘So that’s why I left Mum’s. I’m so sorry to have to break it all to you. It’s bad enough that you know everything he did without knowing that he cheated on your mum … with mine.’
Immi jumps up and rants, paces, swears so loud that a dog walker turns and walks the other way from us. Then she cries and I hand her a tissue. ‘What the actual fuck was your mother thinking?’
‘She wasn’t. Clearly. She said it all began when Dad first started out as a copper and was away from home doing some training or other for about four weeks. They were up shit creek with money, apparently, and finding it hard to pay the mortgage. Mum had a part-time job, but they were only scraping by. Ransom was charming to her, went round with some groceries when they moved in, that kind of thing. Anyway, one day he saw her crying in the garden. He nipped round to ask what was wrong and at first they just talked about her problems. After that, he’d drop money round in an envelope, said he didn’t want paying back … but not to tell your mum.’
‘Oh yes! I can just imagine. That is so typical of him – slimy, stinking shit of a man!’ Imogen’s up on her feet again, this time kicking lumps out of the sand. ‘And then he gets her into bed?’
‘Yeah. The affair went on for the time Dad was away. He came back at weekends, but that was it. Then Mum came to her senses and ended it, so your dad …’ I stop, realising that technically he fathered both of us. ‘So Ransom stopped the money he was giving her because he was furious that she didn’t want him anymore. An ego thing, he had no feelings for her – told her that.’
