Double Cheque

by Heather MacQuarrie

  “Bye, Love,” Kenneth said, giving his daughter a protective hug. “You look after yourself and that grandchild of ours.”

  “Don’t worry about me, Dad,” she answered coyly. “I might have some exciting news for you soon.”

  Patricia smiled to herself. Alastair had already let it slip that they were secretly engaged. She had promised to say nothing until they were ready to go public with the announcement, knowing that they were taking their time in respect of Molly’s memory. As the young couple drove off, Patricia headed back into the house and Kenneth went round to the back garden to survey the damage done by the wind and heavy rain of the morning. He would have some tidying up to do.

  Most of the damp mail went straight into the bin. There were flyers for local supermarkets advertising their current special offers and reminders for appointments that were already in the diary. But in amongst them was an envelope bearing an Edinburgh postmark. Surely not. Patricia considered not opening it. She didn’t want any reminders of the life she had left behind. But curiosity got the better of her. With a trembling hand she eased the envelope open and slipped out the handwritten letter. She looked at the end of it first for a signature. And there it was. Dougie.

  Patricia took a deep breath and swallowed hard. What could he want after all this time? She glanced out of the window and saw Kenneth at the bottom of the garden, brushing soggy leaves from the path and shovelling them into the compost bin. Getting everything back to normal. She placed the letter on top of the radiator to dry it out. Stalling tactics. It wasn’t really that wet. She put the kettle on.

  Five minutes and a cup of tea later Patricia retrieved the sheet of paper, now crisp and dry, and sat down to read the words of her former lover. Her heart was pounding. Kenneth was now trundling the brown bin out to the gate ready for collection on Monday morning. A feeling of disloyalty grated on her conscience. But she had to know why Dougie had suddenly decided to get in touch. She focused her eyes on the familiar handwriting.

  My Dearest Patty,

  Please do not be alarmed. I have no intention of causing any trouble between you and your husband. You chose to be with him and I have accepted that. I just want to make you aware of a situation that has developed over here and might well end up hitting the newspapers and causing you some embarrassment. It’s about my brother, Alex. It turns out that he was quite the hypocrite when he criticised our relationship and tried to make me feel guilty and ashamed. He was apparently a bit of a Lothario himself. Several people have come forward, claiming something from his financial estate and saying that he had made promises to them in return for sexual favours. That, in itself, would be bad enough when I think of the way he told me I had sullied Lucinda’s memory by hooking up with you. But it’s worse than that. Three separate women are actually accusing him of rape and assault. Whilst he isn’t here to defend himself, there does appear to be a lot of evidence stacked up against him in the form of photographs, documents and witness statements. I just wanted to give you the heads up in case it all comes out in the open and friends of yours realise who he was.

  What’s really upsetting me is that I have an awful memory of Lucinda telling me that Alex had touched her inappropriately. At the time I didn’t take it seriously but, when I think back, it becomes clear that she was scared of him and avoided him as much as possible. She even warned me about him again when she was dying but I just thought that she was hallucinating. I am so sorry that I let her down. I’m glad now that he’s dead. If he were still alive, I would probably kill him myself.

  Please don’t hold it against me that I had a monster as a brother. I am nothing like him. Even Barbara has stopped supporting him and says she often suspected that he was up to something with other women. Barbara and Mia both send you their love.

  I loved our time together, Patty, and I wish you all the happiness in the world. I hope that Kenneth is taking good care of you.

  All the best,

  Dougie.

  For a moment Patricia felt very confused. Then she noticed a second piece of paper sticking out of the discarded envelope. Again she recognised Dougie’s distinctive handwriting.

  Patty,

  I was talking to my friend, Cameron Ferguson, last night and happened to mention that I had written to you as I didn’t want you finding out about Alex from a third party. He looked very shifty and then admitted that he had concocted some story for Grant and Imogen, apparently telling them a pack of lies in an attempt to make you all ‘feel better’. I have no idea what he meant and he absolutely refused to elaborate. Anyway, it wasn’t true. Whatever it was.

  Dougie.

  Patricia’s mind was in a whirl, thoughts whizzing here and there, competing for pride of place but crashing into each other like snowflakes in a blizzard.

  Mia doesn’t hate me.

  Casey didn’t kill an innocent man.

  Barbara didn’t want me dead.

  Casey didn’t kill an innocent man.

  Cameron must have known all along. He made up that story to protect me.

  Casey didn’t kill an innocent man!

  OK, he still shouldn’t have done it. But it’s not as if he acted as judge and jury. It was an accident. The man was a monster. There is no grieving widow. She’s well shot of him.

  Should I tell Casey? He has made peace with himself. Maybe leave well alone, not open up old wounds.

  “Are you all right, Mum?”

  Patricia swung round to find Jasmine staring at her in puzzlement.

  “Yes, I’m fine. Absolutely fine.”

  “I forgot my handbag,” her daughter explained hurriedly, feeling like a bit of a spy. “You’d think I would have more sense after the events of this morning. Leaving things behind. Ah, there it is.” She picked it up off the sofa. “Are you sure you’re all right?” Her glance fell on the paper in her mother’s hand, the discarded envelope on the sideboard. “Is that some kind of bad news?” Patricia handed her the letter.

  Kenneth could be heard coming in through the back door. He was talking to someone. And then they both heard little Stevie squealing with delight as he discovered his elusive blue tractor that his grandpa had eventually found in the potting shed, now sitting waiting for him on the kitchen worktop. Sam and Tania appeared in the room first, accompanied by Alastair who had got out of the car on spotting their arrival. Kenneth and Stevie followed them in. Jasmine looked up from the letter she was reading, her face ashen. “They made it up,” she muttered, trying to make sense of the situation but feeling crestfallen.

  Alastair pulled a face. “Who made what up?” he asked her.

  “Imogen. Grant. Grant’s father.”

  “You’re not making any sense, Jaz,” Sam pronounced, taking the sheet of paper from his sister and perusing it for himself. He read it and then turned to his mother. “What does he mean? Why was he writing to you in the first place? Does he know about Dad?”

  Kenneth stiffened. “What’s going on?” he asked, dreading the answer. Was he going to prison after all?

  Patricia blinked and tried to gather her thoughts. It was too late now to keep this to herself. When Jasmine had taken her by surprise, she had handed the letter to her as though in a trance. The rest of the family had taken them both unawares. But why was no-one rejoicing? Could they not see that this was actually good news? Kenneth had in all probability done the world a favour, albeit unintentionally. And then she looked down and realised that she was still holding the main letter in her own hand. Jasmine and Sam had only seen the postscript.

  Patricia went over to her husband and gave him a comforting hug. “Read this,” she bade him, easing the sheet of paper into his hand, before scooping up her little grandson into her arms and heading out to the kitchen to find him a treat. A few minutes passed. And suddenly all five voices reached her ears, almost in unison.

  “Wow!”

  “Gosh, wou
ld you believe it!”

  “Well, that’s definitely you off the hook now!”

  “The bloody bastard!”

  “His own sister-in-law!”

  Patricia smiled to herself. The nightmare really was over this time. She could feel it in her bones. She gave Stevie another chocolate button and revelled in his excited little face beaming back at her. Alastair and Jasmine joined her in the kitchen.

  “Some good news at last, Mum,” Jasmine gushed.

  “I do feel that a weight has been lifted off my shoulders,” Patricia agreed.

  “It was nice of him to tell you. It shows that he still has a lot of respect for you in spite of everything.”

  “I’m glad you see it that way. I was just thinking the very same thing.”

  Jasmine cuddled up to her boyfriend as she addressed her mother again. “We might never have met one another if it hadn’t been for your association with Douglas.”

  Patricia stared at her, wide-eyed. “How do you come to that conclusion?” she quizzed, interested in spite of herself.

  Her daughter smiled mysteriously. “I just worked it out one time. I heard you talking to him on the phone and that conversation set in motion a chain of events that led to me meeting Alastair.”

  Patricia nodded, trying to remember. Then she bit her lip and sighed. “It still wasn’t right,” she proclaimed. “I should never have betrayed your father. I almost destroyed our family. And you two would have found one another eventually. You’re perfect together. Anyone can see that.”

  Alastair whispered something in Jasmine’s ear and they shared a kiss just as Kenneth appeared on the threshold.

  “Do you still have his number?” Kenneth asked his wife. “He’s been very honest with us and I think we have to reciprocate.”

  Patricia looked worried. “Is that wise?” she ventured. “He might still go to the police.”

  “That’s a chance I have to take.”

  “Well, you can’t. I deleted his number ages ago.”

  An awkward silence ensued, broken only by Tania coming in to check on her son. Instantly aware of the tension in the room, she took Stevie by the hand and led him away out of earshot.

  “You must have it written down somewhere.” Kenneth was calm but insistent.

  “No, I promised you I’d make a clean break from him and I’ve kept my word.”

  “I appreciate that but I can’t do this any longer. I want to speak to the man.”

  Jasmine gulped, squeezing Alastair’s hand tightly. “I think I still have it,” she declared hesitantly. Opening her bag, she took out her phone and scrolled down through the list of contacts. And there it was. DM. She handed the phone to her dad. Patricia looked daggers at her daughter and started to tremble. Jasmine avoided her gaze. She agreed with her father. It was the right thing to do. They all watched as Kenneth activated the call. He selected the ‘speaker phone’ option. A ring tone became audible. And suddenly they were all listening to the voice of Patricia’s former lover.

  “Hello. Douglas McKendrick here.”

  “Hello.” Kenneth cleared his throat nervously. “This is Kenneth Campbell.”

  “Patty’s husband?”

  “Yes.”

  Sam was also in the kitchen now, having been alerted by Tania to an impending atmosphere. He sidled over to his sister and asked her what was going on. Jasmine just indicated with a gesture that he should listen in with the rest of them. As she did so, their father’s voice could be heard again.

  “Patricia just received a letter from you.”

  “Yes, I wanted to put her in the picture. There may well be press coverage which she might find embarrassing because of her association with me.”

  “That was very thoughtful of you and we both appreciate it.” Kenneth hesitated for a moment. “But there’s something you should know.”

  Douglas made no response but simply waited for clarification.

  “It’s about your brother, Alex.”

  “What about him? I don’t think Patty ever met him.”

  Kenneth tried to remain calm. “No, but I did.”

  “You knew my brother?”

  Jasmine, Alastair and Sam all held their breath. Patricia almost fainted.

  “I met him once. The night he died.”

  Douglas didn’t respond. A deafening silence filled the room. Kenneth was struggling to continue the conversation. Patricia decided to intervene.

  “Hello Dougie,” she said.

  “Patty,” he sighed. “How lovely to hear your voice. I hope you are well.”

  “Thank you. Yes, I’m fine. Jasmine and Sam are here too. We all have something to tell you.”

  “About Alex? About the night he died?”

  “Yes.”

  “It doesn’t matter now. Don’t give it another thought.”

  Patricia took a deep breath. “You knew all along?”

  “Cam and I kind of worked it out.”

  Kenneth managed to find his voice again. “I’m so sorry, Douglas. It wasn’t supposed to happen. It was an accident.”

  “Obviously.”

  Another lengthy silence.

  “I just wanted you to know the truth. I should have owned up a lot sooner.”

  “Water under the bridge, Kenneth. Forget it.”

  “You’re not going to report him?” Patricia asked in desperation.

  “No. As you say, it was an accident. End of story.”

  Jasmine and Sam could contain themselves no longer. “Thank you, Mr McKendrick,” they chorused. “Thank you so much.”

  “There’s no need to thank me,” Douglas replied. “I would never do anything to hurt your mother.”

  Kenneth beckoned to his family to leave the room with him, allowing his wife to finish the conversation in private. They closed the door behind them.

  “They’ve all gone,” Patricia said into the phone. “It’s only me here now.”

  Douglas sighed. “I miss you, Patty. What a year it’s been. Are you happier now?”

  “I miss you too, Dougie. But yes, I am happy. I did the right thing.”

  “I’m glad we’ve cleared the air.”

  “Me too.”

  “I’m so angry about Alex. When I think of the encomium I gave him at the funeral, it makes me sick.”

  “Give it time. You’ll eventually remember the fun you had growing up together. You’ll learn to forgive.”

  “Never!”

  “I’d better get back to the family. Bye Dougie. And thank you.”

  “Keep in touch, Patty. I’m chuffed that you still had my number.”

  “This is actually Jasmine’s phone.”

  “Aww, you could have pretended.”

  “No more lies, Dougie. No more lies.”

  “Bye Sweetheart.”

  “Bye.”

  ***

  Patricia walked out to the car with Jasmine and Alastair.

  “I’m glad I left my bag behind,” Jasmine chuckled. “This is turning out to be such an exciting day.”

  “And it’s not over yet,” Alastair said with a grin.

  “You had better get that man’s name back into your contacts, Mum. I want him to be invited to the wedding.”

  Patricia took a step backwards and stared at her daughter, a questioning look on her face.

  “We want to be married before the baby is born,” Jasmine told her, her face radiant with happiness.

  “But that’s only months away. It takes ages to arrange a wedding. Just ask Sam and Tania. And what about your American family, Alastair? It doesn’t give them much time to get organised.”

  “Don’t you worry about that. Granny Gertrude knows some people who can pull a few strings,” Jasmine told her. “Sam and Tania have their own way of doing things and we have ou
rs. This is important to us and we don’t want to put it off.”

  “But my gran won’t be taking over or anything,” Alastair reassured her. “You’ll still be in charge. She might just be able to get us a venue at short notice. And it’ll just be my grandparents coming from America. We’re going to travel over there next year to meet the rest of the family.”

  Patricia gathered them both into a warm hug. “Well that’s wonderful news,” she gushed, feeling truly delighted. “But you can’t be serious about inviting Douglas McKendrick. That wouldn’t be fair to your father.”

  “We’ve already checked with him. He doesn’t mind in the least. Here he comes now so you can ask him yourself.”

  Patricia swung round and there was her husband, looking happier and more relaxed than she had seen him for years. He didn’t need to say a word. The soothing arm around her shoulder, the gentle nod of approval and the loving smile on his face told her all she needed to know.

  Jasmine and Alastair got into the car and drove off with a wave. Some children a few houses away were out in their wellingtons, splashing in the puddles and giggling with glee now that the sun was shining. Jasmine had a fleeting memory of happy times with her sister when they were small. Molly should have been preparing now to be her bridesmaid. And suddenly Alastair was talking about his childhood memories too, triggered by a little boy on a bike without stabilisers, cycling erratically along the pavement, under the watchful eye of his father.

  “Your dad would have been so proud of you,” Jasmine trilled. “And you’re going to make a brilliant dad yourself.”

  “You’re going to be the best mum on the planet,” Alastair replied.

  “I love you.”

  “I know you do. I love you too.”

  As he spoke, Jasmine felt a gentle kick from the baby growing in her womb and a surge of happiness filled her heart. “Let’s make it a quick visit to your mum,” she proposed. “I’ve had enough excitement today to last me for a month.”

  “I agree. Fifteen minutes max. Then home. We’ll lock up and pretend there’s no-one in.”