“And are you going to do that?”
“I already have.”
Maggie looked aghast. “So this is going to be all over the papers, the fact that my dad was a murderer!”
“No, I kept his name out of it. I sent it anonymously and posted it in England for extra security. But it might give that poor family some closure.”
Greta closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Then she spoke again.
“Don’t call him a murderer, Maggie. He did something wrong, something very wrong, but it was an accident. He regretted it every day of his life. I hope I’ve done the right thing in telling you about it.”
“Can I tell Lawrence? We don’t have any secrets from one another.”
“Of course. But other than that …”
“I won’t say a word.”
“Thank you.”
“I don’t know how I feel about it.”
“I know. I felt like that at first too.”
“And now?”
“Mixed feelings. But I just thought you should know. I’ll go now and let you talk to Lawrence. I’m sorry for spoiling your evening, especially when you had something to celebrate.”
Maggie walked her to the door and they embraced on the doorstep.
“Life could have been so different for both of us,” Greta mused as she said goodbye.
“Sure we always knew that,” Maggie riposted wisely. “Nothing much has changed in reality.”
She waved as the car drew away from the house and went back in to talk it over with her fiancé. Another cold shiver ran down her spine. Everything suddenly made sense.
Chapter 5
Imogen Tomlinson and Grant Cartwright had never been happier. They were very much in love and basking in the delight of Imogen’s pregnancy which had only just been confirmed. Nobody else knew about it yet. They had first met nearly a year ago, when Imogen had taken a fall whilst shopping in Grant’s store and had been brought to his office as a precautionary measure. It had been love at first sight. Although several complications had combined to thwart their relationship in the beginning, it was now stronger than ever and they were planning to marry within the next few weeks. After work on Monday they strolled together through the aisles of their local supermarket, selecting items for their joint trolley.
“I’ll just have a look at the books if you don’t mind,” Imogen said to Grant, passing the trolley to him. “I’ll meet you at the fruit and veg.”
“OK, anything you want in particular?” he asked.
“Carrots, celery, tomatoes, grapes. Anything else you fancy. I’ll only be a few minutes.”
Grant headed off down the aisle and turned towards the fruit and vegetables. As he reached out for a pack of bright red cherry tomatoes still on the vine, he spotted a face he recognised. The other man noticed him at the same time.
“It’s Grant, isn’t it?”
“Sam! Long time, no see.”
“Gosh, I can’t get over meeting you today of all days. We were just talking about you over the weekend, Jaz and I. We were reminiscing about that millennium party at your grandparents’ place. Do you remember my wee sister, Jasmine?”
“Sure I do. She was a few years older than my sister, Rebecca. And yes, I remember that party. We had some fun that night.”
“Well how are you Old Chap?” Sam chuckled. “It never fails to amaze me. You don’t see someone for years and then your paths cross the very day after you think about them. How is the lovely Zoe? I suppose the two of you are married by now with a couple of kids.”
“I’d forgotten that you met Zoe,” Grant replied with a lump in his throat.
Sam immediately detected that something was amiss. Maybe they weren’t together anymore. “Have I said something out of place?” he enquired.
“Zoe died,” Grant told him. “We did get married but it was only for a few months.”
Sam wished that the ground would swallow him up. “Gosh, I’m so sorry, Mate. I had no idea.”
“It’s OK. I’ve been to hell and back. But you learn to cope. I’m with someone else now. We just got engaged.”
“Really? Me too.”
“Here she comes now, my fiancée.”
Imogen popped the two books she had chosen into the trolley and then looked up to see who Grant was talking to.
“Imogen, Sweetheart,” he was saying, “this is an old friend of mine from years ago. We used to keep each other company while our mums were getting together for a chat.”
Sam and Imogen were staring at one another, hardly aware of what Grant was saying.
“Imogen?” he breathed.
“Sam?” she echoed.
“Do you two know each other?” Grant asked innocently, not yet having made the connection.
“You never told me Sam was an old friend of yours,” Imogen murmured.
“You mean this is your Sam?”
Imogen just nodded, looking embarrassed. “He was my Sam at a time,” she then conceded.
“Gosh, I never even thought of you,” Grant said addressing the other man. “It’s not as if it’s an unfamiliar name. I know a few people called Sam.”
“What a coincidence,” Sam uttered, smiling at them both. “It’s lovely to see you, Imogen. So you are engaged to Grant. Wow! That’s amazing. I just got engaged myself.”
“To Tania, I hope.”
“Yes, to Tania.” He looked surprised that she knew his girlfriend’s name. “We have a little boy.”
“I know. Holly has kept me informed.”
Sam winced. “I didn’t treat you or Holly very well,” he admitted, looking a bit abashed.
“Never mind, it’s history now. Things have worked out for the best for all of us. Tell me about your son.”
Sam reached into his pocket for his phone and scrolled down through his photos, selecting a couple of shots to show them.
“He’s gorgeous,” Imogen trilled, “and Tania looks nice too. I’m glad you’re happy.”
They smiled at one another, briefly reminiscing over old times and both privately thinking of what could have been. Imogen felt a bit light-headed. After a moment she left the two men chatting as she moved along the aisle picking up other fruits and vegetables at random.
“So I believe you’ve been in touch with your father,” Sam suddenly said to Grant.
Grant threw him a puzzled look. “How on earth do you know about that?” he exclaimed before adding, “Oh yes, of course, it was your mother who helped us find him. I wasn’t sure whether she actually knew the whole story.”
“No, my mother didn’t tell me anything. Sorry, maybe I shouldn’t have mentioned it.”
“He hasn’t been a father to me for twenty-nine years and he’s not going to start now,” Grant said scathingly. “He’s a tosser.” Then he scratched his head and looked even more mystified. “But if your mother didn’t say anything, how did you know we were in touch?”
“Tania and I were in Scotland for the weekend. We met a guy called Douglas. I can’t remember his other name. Mum has known him for years.”
“McKendrick.”
“Yes, that was it. Douglas Mc Kendrick.”
“Imogen and I have met him too. We liked him.”
Sam had a vision of his mother kissing the man at the airport, his arms all over her. “We weren’t so keen,” he snarled.
“But you talked about me?”
“Not directly. I just heard him say that your father had sent you a letter and was surprised that he hasn’t had a reply yet. He was talking to my mum, who had apparently delivered the letter to your mum because he didn’t have your address.”
“Yes, I got it. He won’t be getting a reply.”
“None of my business, Mate,” Sam conceded hurriedly. “I’m sorry if I’ve offended you by bringing it up. I just got the i
mpression that there was something urgent about it because it was also mentioned in a phone call that Jaz overheard last weekend.”
“Urgent?” Grant drawled bitterly. “Well, if he wants a kidney or something he can go and jump.”
They all moved out of the way to let other customers reach the tomatoes and Sam was glad of the distraction. Imogen put the items she had chosen into the trolley and, picking up the general drift of the conversation, she spoke softly to Sam. “Grant’s father wasn’t very welcoming when we met him. He doesn’t want anything more to do with him. He didn’t read that letter. He burnt it.”
Sam nodded. Time to change the subject. “I’m looking for somewhere to live,” he told them, “so if you hear of any nice flats going on the market …”
“Seriously?” Imogen grinned. “I’ve just vacated one but I haven’t given it up officially yet. I thought my brother was going to take it on but apparently he’s found somewhere else.”
Sam looked confused. “You don’t have a brother,” he intoned.
“Long story,” Imogen chuckled, “but I do, actually. Would you like to see the flat?”
“I don’t think so”, Sam responded bluntly. “Tania might not like the association with you.”
“Sensible decision,” Grant advised. He wouldn’t like it any more than Tania. After all, Imogen would still be spending lots of time over there. Her best friend was still living upstairs.
“But Jaz is also looking for a place of her own.” Sam was now thinking aloud. “She might be interested.”
Imogen gave him the details just in case.
“So how come you suddenly have a brother?”
Grant was beginning to feel irritated. This man used to sleep with his fiancée. He didn’t really want them spending any more time together or sharing family secrets. “Like Imogen said, it’s a long story. Some other time,” he enjoined.
Sam took the hint and they chatted more casually for a few more minutes before going their separate ways. As they headed towards the bakery section Imogen couldn’t help turning round for another glimpse of her former boyfriend and found him doing the very same thing. They smiled at one another somewhat wistfully.
Chapter 6
The week passed with very little being said in the Campbell household about Patricia’s exhibition in Scotland. She had blithely reported that it had been a roaring success and that her boss had been very pleased. Luckily for her there were lots of other topics of discussion that took precedence over work issues. Sam and Tania had got engaged. Jasmine had found a flat that she liked and could just about afford. Molly was continuing to enjoy her travels; she had just posted a series of pictures from the Great Barrier Reef so that all her Facebook friends could ogle them with envy.
Sam had kept Jasmine fully informed about the situation regarding their mother and the threat he had made. True to his word, he had not brought Stevie with him when he and Tania had arrived to announce their good news. Patricia had been forced to feign delighted surprise because Kenneth was hearing it for the first time with no inkling that the pair had met up with her on their mini-break. Sam had visited again, with Stevie, at a time when he knew that his father would be in the house on his own and had deliberately left some evidence of their presence in the form of a soft toy and a rattle as a pointer to Patricia. She had been devastated to think that he really had denied her access to the baby. They hadn’t spoken about the matter since the showdown in Scotland.
Now it was Saturday morning and Jasmine was moving into her new flat, recently vacated by Imogen Tomlinson. She had met Imogen a couple of times when she was dating her brother, Sam, but had never really got to know her very well. By a strange coincidence she had also known Imogen’s fiancé in the past because he was none other than the same Grant Cartwright, in whose garden she had played while her mum and Auntie Cathy were having their tea parties. How strange that his name should crop up again so soon after hearing it mentioned in that phone call a week ago. She had found the flat through Sam, who had come across Grant and Imogen in the supermarket, and it was exactly what she required. It was modern and clean and came already furnished with the main necessities because she had met with Imogen during the week to discuss what she should leave behind. Imogen was now living with Grant.
Jasmine stood in her new living room and took a deep breath. This was paradise. If it wasn’t for the worry over her parents’ situation, life would be pretty perfect. She went back outside to bring in another couple of bags from the boot of her car.
“You moving in downstairs?” enquired a friendly voice. A girl with lovely reddish-brown hair was just getting out of her blue Yaris, parked beside her own car. “I’m Jillian. I live in the apartment above you.”
“Hi Jillian. Yes, I’ve a few more runs to make but I should be in by tonight. I’m Jasmine by the way. It’s nice to meet you.”
“I feel as if I should already know you from somewhere,” Jillian replied with a puzzled expression.
“I was just thinking the same thing,” replied the new tenant. “You do look familiar.”
“So, is it just you moving in on your own?”
“It is indeed. My own space at last. What about you? Do you share with someone?”
“Yes, my fiancé, Bradley. I used to live in your flat actually until I moved upstairs with him.”
“Oh, you would know Imogen, then.”
“Yes, she’s my best friend, has been for years.”
“That’s where I’ve seen you before, then. Imogen used to go out with my brother.”
“Oh, you’re that Jasmine!” Jillian exclaimed. “Of course, I remember now, you’re Sam’s sister. Does Imogen know that it’s you who’s moving in?”
“Yes, she organised it for me.”
“Really? Wow! She never said anything to me.”
“Probably just didn’t have time. It’s been very quick. Sam only met the two of them on Monday and it’s been all go since then.”
“So Sam has met Grant?”
“He sure has. Turns out they were buddies years ago.”
“No!”
“It’s true. Look, I’d better get this stuff inside before it rains. But it was lovely chatting to you. I look forward to us being neighbours.”
“Me too. Come up for a coffee if you feel like a break.”
“Thanks, I will. Give me half an hour.”
Jasmine took the bags inside and smiled to herself. She was going to enjoy living here. The flat was perfect. It didn’t even need painted. She sat down on the burgundy-coloured sofa, which she had bought from Imogen, and took out her phone, in two minds as whether she should interfere or not. Something had been on her mind all morning. Last night, while Patricia had been in the bath and Kenneth had been engrossed in a film on TV, Jasmine had come across her mother’s phone, once again plugged into the socket in the kitchen. She had felt guilty doing it, but she had picked it up and had scrolled through the list of contacts. Family names were there of course and she recognised known friends like Cathy, along with work colleagues she had heard of but, not surprisingly, there were several other names which meant nothing to Jasmine. Who was Mia for example? Probably someone new at work. But in amongst all the names there were a few abbreviations. And one of them was DM. She had taken a note of that number.
During the week Tania had talked to Jasmine about the confrontation with her mother in Scotland, including the threat Sam had made about not letting Patricia see her grandson. Tania felt uncomfortable with the whole situation; it was not the best way to forge a good relationship with her future mother-in-law. But she wanted to support Sam in any way she could. She appreciated the fact that he had been open and honest with her about bumping into Imogen in the supermarket and had given her a full account of their conversation. Tania had subsequently told Jasmine about Grant Cartwright destroying the letter he had received from his father, unread.
Jasmine looked now at the piece of paper where she had scribbled that number. DM. It had to be him. But just to make sure, she entered the digits into her phone and selected the call function. A phone began to ring. Then a voice spoke to her.
“Hello? Douglas McKendrick here.”
Jasmine ended the call. It was him all right.
She sent him a text message.
Please leave my mother alone. We are a happy family. Jasmine Campbell
Then she keyed in another message.
Can you please tell your friend that Grant Cartwright has not read his letter. He burnt it unopened. JC
A few moments passed and then Jasmine received a reply. He made no reference to her first text but thanked her for the second one and asked whether she could supply him with a phone number for Grant. Jasmine was uneasy. Why had she started this? She just had a feeling that Grant might regret what he had done. There seemed to be something important about that letter. She did have Grant’s number. Both he and Imogen had liaised with her over the exchange of the apartment and she had added the two of them to her contacts. She hesitated for a moment and then, what the hell, forwarded the number to Mr McKendrick. He sent a brief text to thank her. Jasmine was on edge. She didn’t know whether she had done the right thing or not but she justified her action by telling herself that nothing is really private nowadays. If the man was determined to get in touch with his son, he could probably do so quite easily through social media sites or Google. She would put it from her mind and go upstairs for that cup of coffee.
***
Grant heard the message coming through whilst he was driving to the golf course. Having rekindled his friendship with Sam this week, he had agreed to play a round with him and was really looking forward to it. On arrival he parked his car behind the clubhouse and took his clubs from the boot, totally forgetting that he had received a text. The weather was ideal for golf, bright, sunny and dry and both men enjoyed the game and the companionship. It was only as he was getting back into the car, almost three hours later, that Grant remembered to check his phone. He got a bit of a shock.
Double Cheque Page 4
