There was an uneasy silence for a moment. They could all see the sleeping baby in the cradle but they were more interested in the obvious tension between the two adults in the room.
“Is there no volume control?” Catherine asked. “Surely that’s the whole point of the thing, so that we can be alerted as soon as the baby starts to cry.”
“Here, let me have a look,” Bradley offered, jumping up to assist his friend.
By now all eyes were on the screen as it suddenly burst into life, complete with surround sound volume.
“You really expect me to keep this to myself!” It was Imogen’s voice in a loud high-pitched screech.
“I had to tell somebody. I’ve been going mad with no-one to talk to about it.”
“Grant is my husband. I refuse to have any secrets from him.”
“Even if it’s to protect him and those he loves?”
“You’re a bastard, Sam. You had no right involving me in this.”
“Turn it off,” instructed Mark. “This has nothing to do with the rest of us. We shouldn’t be eavesdropping on a private conversation.”
Whilst they all agreed with him in principle, no-one made a move. They all remained firmly rooted to the spot, eyes focused on the large screen. And then, just as Kenneth could be seen bursting into the bedroom to warn them that they had a captive audience, the punchline was spoken.
“So your dad pretended to be in Spain but he actually travelled to Edinburgh and murdered that man. And your mum has known about it all this time!”
Downstairs in the living-room there was a corporate gasp as nine pairs of eyes turned to stare accusingly at Patricia. Mark pulled the plug from the wall, bringing an eerie silence to the room.
Catherine was the first to speak. “Tell me it isn’t true,” she pleaded in a whisper.
Patty just shook her head in despair, her face as white as a sheet. Footsteps could be heard on the stairs and then Kenneth and Sam appeared at the door, faces ashen and guilt-ridden.
“What have I done?” stammered the younger man.
Jasmine and Alastair came running in from the garden along with Robyn and Jack, followed closely by Thomasina who had been to the bathroom. They all picked up on the atmosphere immediately.
“What’s happened?” Robyn demanded.
No-one answered.
Thomasina glanced at her sister hoping for an explanation but Catherine just rolled her eyes and dismissed her with a gesture of frustration.
Kenneth went over to Patricia and held out his hand. She grasped it tightly and stood up to join him. They could at least put on a united front and attempt to show some degree of dignity. Kenneth spoke briefly to Gertrude.
“I’m so sorry for ruining your party,” he said evenly and then, addressing the rest of the room, he added, “Just for the record, I didn’t do it on purpose. It was an accident, a very tragic and regrettable accident. I’ll hand myself in to the police tomorrow.”
Patricia couldn’t speak. She just allowed her husband to lead her in a trance towards the front door where they met Imogen who had just come down the stairs, her baby in her arms. She stood across the doorway, blocking their exit.
“Tell them, Grant,” Imogen screamed into the room. “Two wrongs don’t make a right but it definitely goes half-way in my book. Tell them. They all have the right to know.”
And suddenly all eyes were on Grant.
“Tell us what?” quizzed Bradley with a puzzled expression on his face. He was of course speaking for everyone in the room.
Chapter 29
“We went over to Edinburgh last weekend,” Grant began hesitantly, as Imogen gently shepherded Kenneth and Patricia back into the room and those who had been out of earshot during the screen drama were brought up to speed through hushed whispers from those around them. “I wanted to spend some time with my father and to introduce the rest of the family to Victoria.”
No-one passed comment. What could this possibly have to do with what had just transpired? Sam looked utterly wretched believing that his carelessness had undoubtedly cost his father his freedom, possibly his mother too.
Grant’s eyes darted nervously around the room. Imogen gave him a look of encouragement but she stayed firmly rooted beside Patricia, a protective arm around her quivering shoulder.
“We had a lovely time,” Grant then continued, “right up until we were about to leave again for the airport. That was when my dad dropped his bombshell.”
In spite of the circumstances the rest of the family were now interested.
“There has hardly been time for us to take it in yet. And he specifically asked us not to say anything.”
“Things have changed,” prompted Imogen.
“Yes, yes they have,” Grant agreed, obviously weighing something up in his mind. A vein was now pulsing in his neck.
“So tell them. I think we can keep the police out of this. On both sides of the water.”
Grant bit his lip. “Cameron is still on friendly terms with Douglas McKendrick,” he offered. “In spite of everything.”
Patricia and Kenneth both shuddered. They had hoped that they would get through the evening without hearing that man’s name mentioned. But Sam had put paid to that. However, they didn’t blame him for anything. The lad was only trying to ease his own conscience, to find a way of living with the dreadful truth that his father was a killer. How could he have known that he would be overheard?
“But he told us that he had recently discovered something about his friend, something that affects all of us here in this room. And Imogen’s right. Aunty Patty and her husband should not be taking all the flak for this. There’s more to it than meets the eye.”
“You’re talking in riddles, Grant. Spit it out and get to the point.”
Grant eyeballed his step-father and nodded. Then, taking a deep breath, he decided to spill the beans once and for all. He looked straight at Patricia.
“Douglas told my father that his daughter, Mia, deliberately gave you a cocktail of drugs, hoping that it would kill you. You weren’t supposed to wake up that time, when Jasmine visited you in the hospital.”
You could have heard a pin drop in the room.
“And what’s more, Douglas has also discovered that it was his sister-in-law, Barbara McKendrick, who put Mia up to it, who gave her the idea. Apparently the two of them had discussed ways of getting rid of you.”
“So, before you go running to the police to hand yourself in,” put in Imogen, “ask yourself this question. Which is worse? To try to kill someone and fail or to actually kill someone by mistake?”
“Mia wanted me dead?” Patricia could scarcely fathom the enormity of this disclosure. “And Barbara! I thought Barbara was my friend.”
“This doesn’t really change anything,” muttered Kenneth, resigned now to his fate. “I still killed an innocent man.”
“We all know you didn’t mean to kill him,” Catherine said gently. “What’s done is done. You can’t bring him back. But Grant and Imogen have got a point.”
“The way I see it,” interjected Gertrude with her customary sagacity, “you have just been handed a ‘get out of jail free card’ on a plate.”
Thomasina nodded. “They’re not going to want the police sniffing around, maybe discovering the truth about the drugs incident. You just lie low and let it all blow over.”
“I don’t want you going to prison, Daddy.” It was Jasmine speaking for the first time.
“My baby needs a grandpa,” Alastair chipped in.
“What were you doing shut away in that room with Imogen anyway?” Tania suddenly seethed, addressing her husband with a scowl.
“Nothing. I just went up to use the bathroom and I saw her there with the baby. We were chatting, that’s all.”
“Well you have a baby too. You should have been down here w
ith him, not ensconced in a bedroom with your ex, telling her secrets you hadn’t even told me.”
As Sam and Tania looked daggers at one another and then burst out laughing, Patricia and Kenneth dared to breathe again. The focus was shifting away from them. Their secret was out in the open. But they were safe. They were amongst friends, the best friends in the world.
“Let’s get this party back on track,” said Mark, picking up one of the wrapped gifts at random and handing it to Gertrude, as Grant sidled over to his wife.
“I hope we’ve done the right thing,” he whispered.
“You have,” Jasmine told them, having just caught the hushed remark. “Thank you so much for speaking up.” After a pause she added, “You know, I think I knew about Dad, somewhere deep in my sub conscience. I just hadn’t let it come to the surface. But I heard him talking to Sam one day and I sort of wondered.”
“It’s a lot for you to take in,” Imogen sympathised. Then she turned to Grant. “Are you going to tell your dad?” she asked him.
Jasmine looked horrified.
“Yes, I’ll phone him tonight. It’s the right thing to do.”
“No, you can’t.”
“Jasmine, I have to tell him. He’s been honest with me.” Grant beckoned to her to follow him out to the kitchen so that they could talk about it without destroying any more of Gertrude’s party atmosphere. Imogen and Alastair joined them. There was an uneasy calm for a few moments.
“Why did your dad tell you those things anyway,” Jasmine suddenly quizzed Grant with a puzzled expression on her face. “And how did he even know about it? Why would Douglas McKendrick have owned up to him? Surely he would have wanted to protect his daughter.”
“Just be glad that he did. We don’t really need to know his reasons for confiding in Dad.”
Jasmine turned on him angrily. “You’re making this up, aren’t you? There isn’t a shred of truth in your story! Mum told me that she took those tablets by accident.”
Alastair put a comforting arm around his girlfriend. “Just go along with it, even if it isn’t true,” he soothed. “If it stops your dad from handing himself in to the police, what does it matter? We all know he’s not a violent man. It was an accident. Nothing we can do will make it easier for that man’s family and that includes putting your dad through the courts. He’ll never really forgive himself for what happened and that is punishment enough.”
“How can you say that,” Jasmine screamed, “after all that has happened to you in the past?”
“You don’t want him to end up like Dennis Redpath,” Alastair said quietly. “He needs our support.”
They all stared at Alastair in amazement and no-one spoke for some minutes. Gertrude’s voice could be heard in the distance, thanking someone for their gift.
“Let’s get back to the party,” Imogen suggested, looking at her husband with an air of uncertainty. “Are you still going to tell your dad about this?”
Grant nodded. “Probably. But don’t worry,” he told the others. “It won’t go any further.”
“How do you know?” Jasmine was sceptical.
“Because I wasn’t making anything up. What I told you was perfectly true. I don’t know why McKendrick confided in my dad but I’m glad that he felt he could trust me. Now I have to trust him.”
He took Imogen’s hand and led her back to join the rest of the family.
***
Jasmine and Alastair strolled hand in hand through Catherine and Mark’s lovely garden, breathing in the warm September air laden with the fragrance of honeysuckle, phlox and lavender, and taking in the beauty of their surroundings but still reeling with shock following the surprise disclosures which threatened their familial harmony.
“That girl tried to kill my mother.” Jasmine uttered aloud the thought that kept reverberating through her brain.
“And very nearly succeeded,” added Alastair.
“What a mess! How did my mum ever become involved with people like that?”
“It is ironic that the only innocent member of the family is the one who ended up dead.”
Jasmine shook her head. “I think he had a daughter,” she recalled. “And, to be honest, I think Douglas himself is a decent enough guy.”
“Don’t torment yourself,” Alastair soothed. “Just let it all blow over. There have been faults on both sides.”
“Tell me more about your family in America,” Jasmine nudged, changing the subject with a smile. “I can’t wait to meet them all.”
Alastair responded that he would love to pay a visit to his Henning relations and they ended up agreeing that they would arrange a trip soon after the birth of their baby. They sat down on a bench beside the greenhouse.
“Your parents kind of stole my thunder today,” Alastair remarked rather mysteriously. “I had a couple of things I wanted to tell you.”
Jasmine squinted sideways at him with an air of puzzlement. “Well, tell me now,” she urged.
“The first one is about my mum. She’s seeing someone. A man.”
“Oh, that’s wonderful news! She’s been on her own for so long. Who is he? Is it serious? Have you met him?”
Alastair laughed at his girlfriend’s exuberance and briefly answered her three questions. “His name is Gabriel. Yes, I think it could be. And yes, I have met him.”
“Brilliant! What’s he like? How did they meet?”
Alastair hesitated for just a moment and then told her, “Actually they met through me.”
“Someone from the garden centre?”
“No.”
“Your art classes?”
“No.”
“A friend of Bradley’s?”
“No.”
Alastair’s eyes were now dancing with mischief. “I did say I had a couple of things to tell you,” he reminded her.
“Well, finish the first one! How do you know this guy, Gabriel?”
“The two things are connected.”
“In what way?”
“I had a check-up at the hospital recently.”
“Ah, he’s a doctor.”
“No.”
Jasmine’s excitement was now turning to frustration. “So there’s a connection between Gabriel and the hospital. Just tell me. He works there but not as a doctor?”
“He doesn’t work there. The hospital sort of referred me to him.”
“Oh no! What’s wrong with you? You’ve been doing so well recently.” Jasmine’s mood of euphoria was abruptly deflated as she prepared to hear the worst. He had been a bit secretive about that appointment and had taken to going out on his own quite a lot since then, for more than an hour at a time.
But Alastair was still smiling. And suddenly Jasmine was in his arms as he hugged her close and whispered in her ear, his warm breath tickling the sensitive skin of her neck. “Gabriel is my driving instructor. My consultant said that I’ve made amazing progress and there are no longer any medical grounds to stop me living a perfectly normal life. I’ve been given the all-clear to drive. I’m doing my test next week.”
Chapter 30
“That was the garage,” Jasmine called to Alastair who was outside the flat chatting to Bradley. “My car is ready at last.”
“Ok,” he grinned in reply. “Let me know when you’re ready and I’ll take you over to get it.”
“Just give me five minutes.”
The two men continued to discuss their respective vehicles, Bradley’s pristine silver BMW and Alastair’s spanking new Volkswagen Golf GTI in Tornado Red, whilst Jasmine finished her coffee, freshened up and grabbed her coat, scarf and bag. She would be glad to have her own car back following the engine repair job, which had taken almost two weeks due to the required parts being out of stock. At least the breakdown had come at an opportune time with Alastair driving now and having his own transport
. It was almost two months since he passed his test.
“We’re lucky that they’re open on a Saturday morning,” Jasmine remarked as she stepped inside and nestled into the luxuriant leather seat. “I thought I’d have to wait until Monday and it would have been difficult to find the time to organise things. Thanks for taking me over.” The garage was a good half an hour away in normal conditions. With the ongoing roadworks en route it would probably take them closer to an hour.
“No problem,” Alastair assured her, as they both waved goodbye to Bradley and headed out of their small carpark. “Do you want the heated seat on?”
“Oh, yes please,” Jasmine gushed. “This car is so comfortable. And roomy. It’s going to be brilliant for the baby.”
As expected, the journey was frustratingly slow with lane closures and temporary traffic lights causing multiple delays. But Jasmine didn’t let it annoy her. It may have been a cold November morning but she was toasting hot, revelling in the delicious warmth that was now pervading her body.
“Looks like we’re in for a heavy shower,” Alastair commented, looking at the overcast sky. The first drops of rain hit the windscreen as he spoke. It was almost sleet. “What do you want to do afterwards? Do we need to go shopping?”
“I could do that on the way home,” Jasmine suggested. “I’ll meet you back at the flat about lunchtime.”
“Good idea. There’s no point in us taking both cars to the shops. It’s hard enough finding one parking space on a Saturday morning. We can do something together later on.”
“I told your mum we’d call in. She wants to show me which plants will need watering while she’s away with Gabriel.”
Alastair smiled. “She’s been really happy since she met him. I think it’s brilliant, the two of them going on holiday together.”
“Absolutely,” agreed Jasmine.
Arriving at the car repair centre at last, they both spotted Jasmine’s blue Volvo parked at the far end of the cluttered grounds. “Give me your key and I’ll move it up to the gate for you,” Alastair volunteered, as he eased his own vehicle into the only space available. “They must be making a fortune here. Look how busy it is.”
Double Cheque Page 20
