by L M Krier
There were a few chuckles. Even in the smart new brogues with a bit of a heel which Trev had made him buy to go with his new suits, Ted was well below average height. Not that he minded, he was comfortable in his own skin. But the descriptions of Angela which they had so far, suggested she was shorter and more well-built than the tall, slim ward manager he and Mike had spoken to.
'Which home did this Mrs Protheroe come from, before she was taken to hospital?' Jezza asked.
She still looked very tired. She was leaning back in her chair, arms folded, legs stuck out in front of her, in ripped jeans. She was wearing pink Doc Martens boots. Ted envied her their comfort. They had always been his footwear of choice, though not in pink, before the reign of the Ice Queen had begun.
Ted and Mike exchanged guilty looks. Ted suddenly realised they had not yet got that information, nor visited the home in question.
'Right, that's one for your list today, Jezza,' Ted told her. 'We'll get you the information, you get round there, same questions as before. Then please come in and report back in person.'
Ted also took it as encouraging that there was no back-chat and she made no comment on the fact that both he and Mike had slipped up on a detail.
'How are we getting on with checking staff names?'
'Virgil and I are in charge of that, boss,' Sal told him. 'Still cross-checking between homes, and against the hospital staff records we have so far, too. No duplicates as yet.'
'Keep checking. Whoever our poisoner is, there's a strong chance they're not using their own name at all, and if they do change jobs, they probably change their name.'
'Keep asking about Angela, wherever you go,' Mike told them. 'We still need to find out if she's one person or several. And whenever anyone's in that area, don't forget to call in to see Inspector Turner's father, even if it's only for five minutes.'
True to his word to Kevin, Ted had asked the team to drop in on Mr Turner Senior, whenever they had a few minutes to spare and were in the area. There was always a chance they would get lucky and spot Angela while they were there.
'Keep your eyes and ears peeled while you're visiting. And I don't just mean for a kick by kick account of the 1966 World Cup match,' Mike added.
'I popped in myself yesterday, while I was over that way,' Ted told them. 'I know absolutely nothing about football so I couldn't contribute much to the conversation. Not that it seemed to matter.'
Jezza was gathering up her things, ready to head out by herself, following up her leads.
'Geoff Hurst scored the winning goal in the one hundred and twentieth minute, the third of a hat trick, although computer simulation later showed that his second goal had not, in fact, crossed the line,' she tossed over her shoulder as she walked out of the door, leaving the rest of the team looking at each other, surprised.
Chapter Eighteen
Ted answered the land-line when it rang. Trev was in the kitchen preparing their evening meal. The home phone seldom rang. They both tended to give out their mobile numbers in preference.
A coldly formal voice said, 'I wish to speak to Trevor Armstrong.'
'Who's calling, please?' Ted asked guardedly, some sixth sense telling him it may not be a call which Trev would wish to take.
There was a pause, then, 'It's a personal matter. It is extremely important that I speak to him. Please ask him to come to the telephone.'
'One moment, please,' Ted said, taking the cordless phone with him to the kitchen, his hand over the mouthpiece. 'It's for you. A woman. She won't say who it is,' he explained. He handed the phone to Trev and made himself scarce, in case it was something his partner didn't want him to overhear.
The call was not a long one. Trev came into the sitting room where Ted was watching the news, the cats vying for position to sit on him, kneading with their paws. Trev opted to sit in the armchair, unusually for him. He was a tactile person who normally liked to sit close to his partner. He looked suddenly pale under his lingering suntan.
'Don't speak of the devil or he might appear,' he said, with a note of bitterness in his voice. 'Remember me saying that? Or in this case, she might. That was my mother.'
Ted looked at him in surprise. 'Really? What did she want?'
'I am summoned to her presence. Tomorrow. In Manchester. She won't tell me what it's about, just that it's a vitally important personal matter which she has to tell me in person. Initially, I refused point blank. I don’t want to go. I don’t want to have anything to do with her. She insisted and said it's in my own interests to do so.' He looked beseechingly at Ted and asked, 'Will you come with me? Please?'
'Of course I will,' Ted said immediately. 'But won't that just be like a red rag to a bull?'
'I don't care,' Trev replied. 'I want you there. I need you with me. I can't do this on my own. Unlike your mother, mine really did abandon me. There will be no sentimental reunion, no hugs and tears. This will be some sort of formal business meeting. Pure and simple.'
'How did she get hold of the land-line number?' Ted couldn't resist asking.
Trev snorted. 'Certainly not from me!' he said. 'No, my father can get any information he wants about anything or anybody, through his contacts. He probably knows all about us. I can't imagine why she wants to see me, but I know it won't be good news for me.'
Trev had been given the address of the hotel where his mother would be staying, briefly, and told to report there the following afternoon, a Saturday, at three o'clock. The hotel was the best and most expensive in the city, or for miles around. Trev supervised what Ted was to wear, knowing they would be refused admission, let alone service, if they turned up in the sort of casual attire they both preferred for weekends.
When he saw the impressive Edwardian façade and stepped into the plush opulence of the hotel interior, for once Ted was glad he had been persuaded to wear a suit and tie, even though it was the weekend. He would have felt hopelessly out of place here otherwise.
Trev was more comfortable and at ease in such surroundings as a rule. But this time he was clearly on edge at the prospect of meeting his mother, the woman who had thrown him out when he was barely sixteen, the day that he told his parents he was gay.
He strode across the impressively appointed lobby, heading towards an incredibly elegant woman, sitting alone near the window, Ted following in his wake. She looked up as she saw her son approaching, then frowned. She had the same jet black hair and piercing blue eyes as Trev, but there was a coldness about the eyes which he did not usually show.
'This is a private family matter, Trevor,' she said coldly, her only form of greeting.
'Hello to you too, Mother,' Trev said sarcastically. 'This is my partner, Ted. Either he stays or I don't.'
'Please do not be facetious, Trevor, it does not suit you,' she said, eyeing Ted up and down and clearly finding him wanting. 'Very well, since this is important, your friend may stay. Sit down, both of you.'
Ted had never encountered anyone quite like her, with such commanding presence. She could even have outdone the Ice Queen at her coldest. She raised an imperious hand and made a silent clicking motion with her fingers, without looking round. A waiter appeared as if by magic. Had he not seen it for himself, Ted would not have believed it.
'Tea. China. For three,' she said without either looking at the man or consulting Trev and Ted.
'May I possibly have green tea, please?' Ted asked, addressing the waiter directly. 'With honey, if you have some available?'
'Certainly, sir,' the man replied. 'Organic tea and Manuka honey?'
Ted nodded, aware that Trev's mother was now regarding him as if he should not have been admitted. He imagined she was not used to anyone who would dream of saying please to a waiter.
She sat back down, gesturing to them to do the same, which Trev did with evident reluctance.
'What did you want, Mother?' Trev asked impatiently, clearly keen to be gone. Ted had never seen him so ill at ease.
'Your father is in hospital, Trevor. He
has suffered a serious heart attack and is undergoing surgery,' she said.
'Am I supposed to care?' Trev asked harshly. 'Is he in hospital in Manchester? Is that why you've come up here?'
'Don't be ridiculous,' she said dismissively. 'He's in the Royal Brompton. I've come in person because I need to tell you that the reason for his heart attack was a previously undiagnosed illness, an underlying condition, which has the potential to be hereditary.'
Trev went ashen. Ted wanted to reach out a hand to him, but sensed the moment might not be right.
'It is vital that you get yourself tested for it as soon as possible. There is a chance that you could have the same condition,' his mother continued, her tone still coldly clinical.
The waiter appeared quietly with their tea and set the tray down on the low table in between the sumptuous leather club chairs they were sitting in. None of them made a move towards the drinks.
'We've had Siobhan tested and fortunately she is clear.'
'Who is Siobhan?' Trev asked, his voice brittle.
'Our daughter,' his mother replied, as if it were obvious.
'I have a sister?' Trev queried incredulously. 'How old is she?'
'Nearly fourteen.'
'Fourteen? How does that work, then?' Trev demanded, his voice rising. 'You throw out your sixteen-year-old son because he's a total disappointment to you when he announces he's gay. Then what? You rush upstairs and start shagging to see if you can make a better one? One that isn't quite so disgusting, as you told me I was?'
His voice was so loud now that people in other nearby seats were looking across at them. An officious-looking man, presumably a manager of some sort, came over and addressed Trev's mother.
'Is everything all right, Lady Armstrong?' he asked. 'Are these two gentlemen bothering you?'
His tone was scornful. He made it clear that he considered neither Trev nor Ted to be gentlemen.
Trev had got to his feet and looked as if he was preparing to storm out. Ted rose too and went quietly over to him.
'Everything's fine,' he said to the manager. 'Sorry for the disturbance. It won't be repeated.'
Trev's mother waved the man away and after a lingering look at the two men, he moved off and left them to it.
'Trev, calm down,' Ted told him quietly. 'I know it's a shock, a lot to take in. But you need to sit down and listen to what else she has to say. We need to know what we're dealing with here, then we can get you the right sort of help. Come on. Sit down. Please.'
He had his hands on his partner's arms and could feel that Trev was trembling violently, though whether it was from shock or anger or both, he couldn't tell. He had never seen Trev so angry.
'Please,' he said again.
Reluctantly, Trev sat down again. His mother was unconcernedly pouring tea. Trev made no attempt to touch it. Ted took a quick gulp of the green tea, after adding a liberal dollop of honey. He needed something to help him stay calm enough to manage the situation, as he could see that Trev was still on the point of exploding.
'The tests are relatively straightforward, although you will need several,' she continued, barely looking at Trev. 'You will require a blood test, then usually an ECG, a stress test and a CT scan. I've taken the precaution of writing the details down for you, as I appreciate that it's a lot to take in. I've also noted the name of your father's heart consultant, should your doctor here require any further detail.'
She put a sheet of paper on the table, with notes on it in neat handwriting. Trev made no move towards it. She then took a dainty sip of her tea, to which she added neither milk nor sugar. Trev was still sitting stiffly, ignoring his cup.
Ted had another quick swallow of his. He reached out to take the piece of paper Trev's mother was now pushing across the table, as Trev was still making no move to do so. She looked as if the idea of her hand being so close to that of her son's gay lover was repellent to her.
'Obviously, you will get the results through much more quickly if you go privately,' she said. 'In the circumstances, I would be prepared to pay for you to do so, if you need me to. I cannot stress how important it is for you to get these tests done as soon as possible.
'This is an illness which can strike at any time, without any prior symptoms at all. Your father was as fit as he has always been, still regularly playing tennis, squash and badminton at every opportunity. In fact, he collapsed during a squash match at his club.
'Please be good enough to keep me informed of your test results. Here's my card.'
Once again, she held it out towards Trev who ignored it, his blue eyes flashing angrily. Ted could see that he was still trembling, so he took the card and made to put it in his pocket. Trev sprang to his feet.
'Leave it, I won't be getting in touch,' he almost spat, heading for the door.
'If you care for him at all, make sure he gets those tests,' Trev's mother said to Ted, as he turned to follow his partner.
He caught up with Trev almost back at the car. Without a word, he put his arms round him and hugged him. Trev was shaking from head to toe.
'The bitch! The ice cold bitch,' he said through gritted teeth. 'You think your parents treated you badly? Now you've seen what my mother is like. Let's get out of here, as soon as possible. I don't even want to be in the same city as that woman.'
They drove in silence for a short while, then Ted put a hand on Trev's arm and squeezed it gently. 'We'll get this sorted. As soon as possible. I've got that health insurance, that will cover something like this. It'll be all right, Trev, I promise.'
As they got nearer to Stockport, Trev suddenly said, 'Can you drop me off near the town centre, please? I just need to be on my own for a bit. I'll go and have a beer somewhere. Would you mind? I won't be late back.'
'Let me park up somewhere and I'll come with you,' Ted suggested.
'No, really, I know it's not your thing and I just feel as if I need a bit of space. I'll be fine, honestly, please don't worry.'
Ted was reluctant to agree, but as they neared Mersey Square, the lights were on red so Trev slipped out of the car. Before he walked away, he turned back and mouthed 'Love you' through the window.
Ted felt a sudden cold panic. Trev never had trouble expressing himself and often said the same thing. This time, however, it suddenly had a ring of finality about it. Ted wanted to jump out of the car and run after him.
At that precise moment, the lights changed. Already cars behind were impatiently sounding their horns when Ted did not immediately pull away. He crashed into first gear and almost stalled. When he looked again, Trev had disappeared.
Chapter Nineteen
Ted had no idea what time Trevor would get back, nor if either of them would feel like eating when he did. He stopped to pick up an Indian takeaway on his way home. There was plenty of it and it would keep for another day if it didn't get eaten that evening.
As soon as he got in, the cats started swarming round his legs, purring loudly and demanding food. It was usually Trev who fed them, when he got home from work and at weekends, but they were faithless and clearly only interested in food. Who gave it to them appeared not to concern them.
Ted's head was still reeling with the news. He could not begin to imagine how Trev must be feeling and wished he was with him to offer him some sort of comfort. He put the television on, tried to concentrate on the news, but could not.
Instead he got his laptop out, put it on the table and booted it up. He was not brilliant with a computer but he was determined to find out all he could. He took the notes Trev's mother had written out of his pocket, consulted them, and started searching Google for answers. He was shocked by what his searches found.
He had somehow hoped that, despite what Lady Armstrong had said, Trev being in such peak physical form would protect him from the illness. Instead he read with mounting horror of top rugby and football players collapsing on the pitch with the same condition. Some, but not all, had survived.
There was a teenage boy, a regional
long-distance running champion, hotly tipped for Olympic potential, who had collapsed and died on a run, with no prior warning. A top swimmer, mid-twenties, who had suffered a heart attack in the pool and paramedics had not succeeded in reviving her.
The more Ted read, the more worried he became. He decided it would be more productive to try to find out about the tests which Trev would need and where he would have to go to get them. He was surprised and pleased to find that nearby Wythenshawe Hospital had one of the best heart units in the country.
It was now past the time he and Trev would usually eat in the evenings, but he was still not hungry, much too anxious to want to eat anything. He took out his mobile phone and dialled Trev's number. It went straight to voicemail.
'Hi, I hope you're having fun. I forgot to say, if you want me to come and pick you up from somewhere, just give me a call.' He hesitated for a moment then added, 'Love you,' as Trev had said earlier. He did, deeply. He just had difficulty expressing it and vowed to say it much more in the future.
He had still heard nothing by eleven o'clock and was starting to get worried. He knew Trev could look after himself in normal circumstances. Ted had first met him when he had coached him towards black belts in judo and karate. But these were far from normal circumstances and he had no idea how he was coping.
He left another message on Trev's phone a bit later on. 'Just getting a bit anxious now. Can you let me know you're ok? Sorry to fuss.'
Still nothing.
When his mobile rang shortly after midnight, he pounced on it, hoping it was Trev. Instead the caller display showed it was Dave, landlord of The Grapes, the favourite watering hole of Ted and his team, near to the police station.
'Hello, Ted, sorry to bother you late on,' Dave said. 'It's your Trev. He's had a few too many, won't go home and he's getting a bit punchy. Someone's called your lot. I wondered if you could come and sort it, before things get nasty.'
Ted could hear the sound of raised voices and breaking glass in the background.
