A Sense of Discovery(a Gripping Psychological Suspense Novel)

by Peter Martin

  ‘And what about the money your parents came into to buy those shares? You seem to have forgotten about that.’

  ‘No I haven’t, but as you’ve already suggested the two things may be connected. Surely you’d do the same in my position?’

  ‘I suppose I would.’ She gave him a smile which he returned. They kissed and held one another. He was so glad she was on his side.

  As he planned his next move, Garry thought back to his childhood, but his recollections were very vague, leaving him little to go on.

  The next night snuggling up close to Delia in bed, a memory came to him so he decided to sound her out. Clearing his throat, he began, ‘I’ve been racking my brains over my mum and the adoption...’

  She squeezed his arm, obviously realising how important this was to him. ‘What about it?’ She yawned.

  ‘I’ve been trying to remember anything odd that happened when I was a kid. I was getting nowhere when suddenly it came to me - the photograph albums.’

  ‘What clue could there be in the photograph albums?’

  ‘That’s just it! I can only remember seeing photographs of me from about three or four years of age. I’ve no idea whether I had fair hair or for that matter any hair as a baby! Mum always told me those early photograph albums had been lost when moving house, but were they telling me the truth? Was their explanation just a ploy to put me off the scent?’

  ‘So you’re saying they never had any photographs of you before the age of three,’ Delia surmised.

  ‘I am – they wouldn’t lose something as precious as that. And another thing, why wait that long to adopt me? That’s what’s getting me.’

  ‘I see the way your mind’s working. So, perhaps that’s the age they did adopt you? What about your mum and dad’s families? I know there’s been no contact for some time and I haven’t met any of them. But surely one of them could tell us something. You should ask them.’

  ‘I’ve already thought about that, but it won’t be easy. Both of them came from up north, Rochdale area, I think. They moved down here when I was four because of my dad’s job. Dad said that because of the distance involved and a family upset, eventually he lost touch with everyone.’

  ‘Surely it wouldn’t be that difficult to find them, would it?’

  ‘Maybe not, but a lot has happened since then. We’re talking about forty years ago here.’

  ‘Yes, but it’s worth a try. Think back – how many brothers and sisters did they both have?’

  ‘Let me see now. My mum didn’t have any, and her mum and dad died a long time ago before I was born. There was a brother and sister on my dad’s side, although his parents also died a while back. But I remember my grandmother’s funeral taking place when I was around about twelve or so, she’d been widowed for a number of years then. I didn’t think much of it at the time but everyone seemed shocked when they found out mum and dad had me. Since then it’s always puzzled me, to be honest, but I put it down to the fact they’d fallen out and all contact had been lost. There must be more to it than that.’

  ‘So how about names, Garry – do you have any ideas?’

  He tried hard to remember; they were on the tip of his tongue – then the names popped into his head.

  ‘The brother’s name was Alan, and the sister Claire. And I assume they lived somewhere in Rochdale.’

  ‘That’s something, anyway. So now we have their names, Alan Flynn and Claire Flynn, although if she’s married her last name will be different. Let’s go on the BT internet site, type in “Flynn” and see what comes up for the Rochdale area.’

  ‘Deel, has anybody ever told you, you’re a bloody marvel?’ He squeezed her shoulder.

  ‘A woman of many talents me,’ she laughed, shaking back her long dark hair.

  With Delia sitting next to him, he typed in the details. The search came up with a list of close matches. All of them had addresses and phone numbers next to them.

  ‘Ring these numbers and you just might strike lucky.’

  Garry breathed out, not relishing the task at hand, but if he found the one he was looking for, it would be worth it.

  The following night, he sat down with the phone. He’d thought of little else all day while he’d been at work and had rehearsed exactly what he’d say to each Flynn he spoke to.

  He meticulously worked through all the A Flynn’s on his list. The clock on the mantel shelf struck eight thirty; it had taken him the best part of two hours. Well, he’d carry on for another fifteen minutes then call it a day, and tapped in another number. The phone was picked up straight away and a disinterested sounding voice said, ‘Hallo.’

  ‘Is that Mr Flynn?’ Garry enquired politely.

  ‘Yes, it is. Who’s that?’

  ‘My name’s Garry Flynn. Sorry to trouble you but I think we might be related. Is your first name Alan, and do you have a brother called Daniel? And a sister called Claire?’

  The line went quiet for a few seconds and Garry half expected the phone to be slammed down, but when the reply came it was in a light-hearted tone of voice, ‘Funny you should ask that, but yes my first name is Alan and I do have an elder brother named Daniel, although we lost touch many years ago.’

  Garry’s heart began to beat faster. ‘And what about a sister, Claire?’

  ‘Yes, I do,’ the man said laughing. ‘Well, this is a surprise.’

  ‘Mr Flynn, I can’t believe you said that. I happen to think you’re my uncle. I’m ringing because I’m trying to trace my mum and dad’s family. My mum Doris died just a few weeks ago, and my dad, your brother died three years ago.’

  ‘Daniel, dead you say. My God, I had no idea. And Doris too. That’s very sad. Your dad and I were really close once when we were kids. I never did understand why they didn’t keep in touch after they moved.’

  ‘It’s a mystery to me as well. Since mum died, I decided to try to find any other members of the family still alive. With all mum’s side long gone, you and your sister are the only ones I can contact. I’d love to talk to you about dad – I wonder, could I come up to see you?’

  ‘You’re more than welcome anytime, Garry. Why I remember you at your grandmother’s funeral; the nephew we never knew we had and who we never saw again afterwards. It would be good to meet up with you again.’

  ‘Fantastic, when can we come?’

  ‘Next Sunday afternoon would be good if you can make it.’

  ‘Perfect. Is your house easy to find?’

  ‘Got a piece of paper and a pen handy?’

  Garry wrote down the directions quickly, and once they’d said goodbye he put the phone down with a huge grin on his face.

  ‘Yes!’

  He punched his fist into the air and Delia, obviously twigging what had transpired, looked up from the book she was reading saying, ‘I take it, you’ve found him?’

  ‘You bet I have, but I mustn’t get carried away. Alan may not know much, but he’ll be able to fill me in up to the point mum and dad moved away. From what he’s just said, neither he nor any of the other relatives knew I existed until my grandmother’s funeral. That’s rather strange, don’t you think? Why wouldn’t the rest of the family know about me? Mum and dad would have told them, surely? It’s almost as if they were ashamed of me. And the other strange thing he said was he didn’t understand why mum and dad hadn’t kept in touch when they moved away. Well, I was always led to believe they had a big bust-up.’

  ‘What can I say? Maybe he can shed some light on quite a few things.’

  ‘Fingers crossed.’

  <><><>

  Garry had been on tenterhooks since his conversation with Alan and now the day had arrived for them to meet, he wanted to get there as soon as possible, so they started out early. It was unusually cold for late October. They stopped once for lunch on the way and arrived in Rochdale at one o’clock. From there Trinity Road wasn’t hard to find. Number twenty-four was situated in the middle of a row of terraced houses, none of which had any front garden.
Both sides of the road were lined with cars, so Garry had to park some distance away. Now in front of Alan’s door, he felt uneasy, anxious over what would come of their visit; but they were here now and could only hope Alan may be able to shed some light on the matter.

  They both stood silently on the footpath taking in their surroundings. The house looked ordinary, much the same as the others in the street, Garry guessed most of them were pre-war or even earlier.

  An old blue Ford Escort was parked on the kerb, and the discoloured lace curtains at the windows had seen better days, giving the impression the occupants had found it hard to make ends meet. It brought it home to Garry just how fortunate he and Delia were and that his parents had enabled him to live a relatively privileged life. Garry almost felt guilty about intruding.

  But after a few seconds, he took in a deep breath and pressed the doorbell. A dog started to bark, large by the sound of it. They waited patiently until at last the key turned in the lock and the door squeaked open.

  Chapter Four

  And there he was – Alan Flynn, his Uncle Alan whom he’d only seen once before in his life.

  ‘Hi,’ Garry said smiling, holding out his hand for the balding, tubby man to shake. ‘I’m Garry Flynn and this is my wife Delia.’

  He shook Garry’s hand vigorously, then Delia’s, looking pleased to meet them.

  ‘And I’m your Uncle Alan. Please come in out of the cold. The frost’s come early this year, it’s only the end of October – dread to think what it’ll be like come winter. I’ve been looking forward to meeting you after all this time. And what a pretty wife you have.’ He smiled warmly at Delia.

  Garry saw something of his father in Alan. The same light brown eyes and pointed nose, but he was a smaller and fatter version of the father Garry had always looked up to. His tight dark green cardigan pulled over his creased grey trousers emphasised a large stomach.

  Alan Flynn stepped aside allowing them to go past him into the narrow hall. Once the front door closed behind them, they were met by a large friendly Boxer dog.

  Alan ushered them into the living room to be introduced to Aunt Joyce, his wife, who got up from the settee to welcome them. She was a petite silver-haired woman who wore bifocal spectacles.

  The room was small but homely, with a wide-screen television set perched on a table by the window. A gas fire on a dark wooden surround gave the room a warm cosy glow.

  ‘Please Garry, Delia, sit yourselves down,’ Alan urged them. ‘You’ll have a small sherry with us, won’t you?’

  ‘Thanks, Uncle Alan, that’s very kind,’ Garry said as they both sat down on the blue Draylon three-piece suite which filled the room.

  It seemed an age before Alan returned, carefully balancing a tray on his left arm containing their drinks. Then he sat back in his armchair by the fire, his face a picture of delight, giving the impression of being thrilled his brother’s son and daughter-in-law were in his house.

  ‘Well, well, Garry, this is a pleasant surprise, meeting our Dan’s son after so long. And to think we never knew you existed until your grandmother’s funeral.’

  ‘Do I look much like dad, Uncle Alan?’ Garry asked.

  ‘Well, that’s hard to say. No, you don’t take after him; you’re more like your mum,’ Alan laughed. ‘Mind you, I don’t think there’s anyone on either side of the family with your height.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Not to my knowledge anyway. So, how can I help you, Garry?’ Alan asked.

  ‘As I said on the phone, mum died quite recently, which means I no longer have any family of my own. But I have a vague memory of dad telling me once, he had a brother and sister, whom he hadn’t seen for years. Then there was that funeral you mentioned earlier, but I do have a vague memory of playing cricket with you in your garden after the funeral. That’s why I thought I’d look you up, maybe arrange a family reunion. But I’d also like to know what sort of life my parents led before I was born.’ Then Garry thought for a few seconds and continued, ‘What I can’t understand is why my parents lost touch with the rest of the family. You see although we didn’t actually discuss it I was always led to believe there’d been a big bust up between you. It’s a shame because you’re such nice people.’

  Alan scratched his bald head as if trying to recall what had happened back then. ‘Let me see now; we never had a row as such, we just drifted apart, because of how far we lived from each other. You see one day he announced they were moving south because of his job. And if I remember right, within a few weeks they’d gone. In our younger days, your father and I and Claire were very close. Dan always looked out for us, I suppose with him being the eldest.’ Alan took a drink from his glass and continued, ‘We all used to live here in this very house. Your dad was born here, lived here until he was around twenty-eight years old when he met your mother. Six months later they set up home together in a flat, albeit without getting married. In those days living in sin was frowned upon. It almost destroyed your grandparents. In fact, they disowned him because of it, but as your mum was already married and getting a divorce there was little else they could do. Mum and dad were very stubborn, and Victorian in attitude.

  ‘But I’ll say that for your parents, though, they stuck to their guns. Daniel did well for himself, he was a qualified pharmacist; so much better than me or our Claire did working in a dirty old factory. And as you know, your mother became a teacher. Later they got married and bought a big house up on the hill where the rich folks live.’ He pointed upwards in an effort to add to his description. Even when your mum fell pregnant, ten years later, they still wouldn’t allow them in the house. And they never visited when the baby was born either.

  ‘In the end they were reconciled with your parents; well first your grandfather’s illness, and then that dreadful business, which no doubt you know of: they lost the child, a month after its birth. Heartbroken, they were, and at her age, we all thought they couldn’t have any more.’

  Alan stopped for a moment’s thought, then looking directly at Garry, who sat captivated, said, ‘I’m not being nasty, when I say this, and I know your parents were financially better off than us,’ he nodded in the direction of his wife, ‘but then they started to spend money like water. Maybe after losing their child it was a way of trying to make themselves happy. So in 1964 they went on an exotic holiday to Montriga in the West Indies, not unusual for them, but on their return, they were over the moon saying it was the best holiday ever. Secretly I suspected it was more than just the holiday and that perhaps your mum was pregnant again. But we never found out because a few weeks later your dad announced he’d been promoted, but had to relocate, as the job was a hundred and twenty miles away.’

  ‘That’s more or less the story I heard… so after they moved you lost contact with them?’ Garry asked.

  ‘At first, we phoned and sent cards. But over time, that dropped off, and it got to the point where no one answered the phone. Well, we thought we’d never see them again. I’m sorry for sounding so critical but that’s the way it was. Your grandparents were upset all over again, but no one could do anything.’ He paused and shook his head before continuing, ‘Although thinking about it now, when your grandmother died I sent a telegram about the date of the funeral, so they must have lived at the same address because they turned up at the funeral – we were shocked mind… to see them… and you. After all, they never turned up for your grandfather’s funeral.’

  ‘So you never knew I existed until the day of my grandmother’s funeral.’

  ‘No, not at all, but what didn’t add up was your age. You looked older than your parents said - it was the talk of the family. Then your name, the same as your dead brother, almost as if they were trying to replace him. We didn’t dare say anything mind. And although we agreed to keep in touch, we never did. I can’t tell you how thrilled I was to hear from you the other day.’

  ‘I can’t understand it! Why would my parents act like that – unless they had something to hide?
It must have had something to do with me.’ Alan just sat back and listened as Garry continued, ‘Because just before she died, mum told me I’d been adopted, but at the time I wasn’t sure what to make of it. She’d never mentioned it before, so I dismissed it, thinking she was rambling, but she wouldn’t let it drop. And since then I’ve changed my mind because nothing seems to add up. Little by little I’m trying to piece it together. Is there anything you can tell me that might shed any light on it? Anything at all?’

  Alan paused for a moment, scratched the back of his head once more, and with a frustrated look on his face said, ‘No nothing, I’m afraid. They never said a word to us about you being adopted, did they, Joyce? So it’s as much a mystery to us as it is to you.’

  Joyce also shook her head.

  ‘But why this cloak and dagger stuff? There’s no shame in adopting a child if you can’t have one yourself? I don’t know what’s at the back of it, but I intend to find out if it kills me.’ There was anger in Garry’s tone of voice.

  ‘I wish I could be more help to you Garry, but we’re as much in the dark as you. Hope you get to the bottom of it.’

  ‘I can’t work them out, I really can’t. They were the best parents in the world, but I can’t imagine why they didn’t tell me. It’s beyond me, it really is.’

  Alan smiled saying, ‘You’ll have to bring the rest of your family up for a visit – I’d love to meet the next generations of the family.’

  ‘Even if we’re not blood relations?’ Garry asked.

  ‘You don’t know that for sure, but he was still your dad, wasn’t he? He raised you no matter what the circumstances. It’s funny, but Joyce and I never had any kids of our own, and neither did Claire, although she never married. After us, there’s nobody.’

  ‘How strange that none of you ever had kids. It’s as if the family were jinxed. I know I’ll carry the family name forward but it doesn’t look as if it will be a bloodline.

  ‘How about Claire, will she be able to add anything to what you’ve told me?’ Garry asked.