2 Children of the Plantation

by Faith Mortimer

  "So, she could be either I suppose, although I'd never mark her down as a beauty. We could just ask her – except I don't want to bother her right now. Let's go for tea and then a nap."

  Steve gave a broad grin that lit up his face. "Now you're talking."

  ~~~~~

  Steve replaced the handset of their bedroom telephone and turned to Diana as she joined him from the bathroom. She looked rested after their siesta, and he thought how beautiful and radiant she was during this pregnancy. He prayed daily that this time they would get a baby to keep. He couldn't bear for her to lose another infant.

  "That was Miss Chalcot on the phone. She's spoken to Hermione, and she says it's all right if we go and see her before dinner this evening. About six-thirty would be good for her, as she retires early."

  "Great. Let's get changed and go then. I feel one more piece of the puzzle awaits us."

  "Let's hope you're right as we're running out of holiday."

  "We could extend? I can just as easily work from here, and I do love the location."

  "We'll see."

  ~~~~~

  "Sherry?"

  Steve hadn't tasted sherry in years and looked a little disconcerted at her question. Diana gave a small grin in his direction and wondered what he would say.

  "Er, yes please, thank you that would be very nice."

  "And you, Mrs Rivers?"

  "Diana, please. Yes I'd love a teeny one."

  Hermione walked over to a small, dark, wooden table standing in a corner of the room. She removed the stopper from a crystal decanter and poured three large sherries into glasses. Di carefully watched her replace the stopper before she turned towards them. Hermione was tall and thin. She wore her hair short and when she was younger it must have been quite dark. Now it was silver shot through with streaks of black. She had high cheek bones, the left bearing a very faint, thin white scar.

  "I do like a good sherry before dinner, don't you? Years ago, my favourite aperitif was a couple of gin and tonics, but nowadays my stomach tells me otherwise." She handed them each a glass.

  "Cheers."

  "Cheers," they both echoed.

  "Thank you for seeing us," said Diana.

  "Can't think why you didn't come earlier. My mind's as clear as yesterday and I'm sure I can fill in the gaps in those diaries. That's supposing they're all there in the first place."

  "We didn't actually know you still lived here," Steve said. "I think both Di and I assumed you'd returned to live in England."

  "No. Miss Chalcot never mentioned you were here," Diana joined in.

  "Perhaps she thought we might bother you with too many questions."

  "Nonsense! She knows I still enjoy good company and conversation. Another sherry my dear?"

  "Er, thanks but no, I still have some." Di tried hard not to stare as Hermione refilled her glass.

  "So where have you got to? What are you missing?"

  "She seems reluctant to tell us about Alex, and I know this sounds daft but we're not sure which sister she is. To us, she's simply Miss Chalcot. I do actually have a rather strange idea, but I'm afraid to mention it."

  Steve looked at Di in confusion. It was obvious he knew nothing about this. A frown appeared between his eyes.

  Sitting down on a stiff-high backed chair Hermione have a short laugh. "That sounds rather fascinating I must say. She's going to join us in a moment, so why don't you try it out on her then. I am intrigued."

  "So am I. My wife does this you know. She mulls everything around for a few days and then suddenly comes out with a fanciful idea which nine times out of ten is correct."

  Diana looked embarrassed. "It is an odd idea, but I really think I've cracked it."

  Steve sat forward in his chair to ask a question, when the telephone rang, interrupting him.

  As Hermione crossed the room to answer it, Steve gave Diana one of his looks and whispered a question. Shaking her head Diana said, "Later. I'll tell you when we're alone."

  Hermione replaced the handset to the telephone and walked back to join them. "That was Miss Chalcot. She said she'll be a little late as she’s not feeling so good. Not to worry, I can fill you in with what I know. It will be quite a relief in some ways. I feel that with the passing years the truth should be told now, especially with Miss Chalcot being so ill. She's not long for this world you know."

  "Yes we do know."

  I have my own diary which no one's ever read. I've kept it under lock and key to this very day. Perhaps you'd like to learn my side of the story?"

  Diana leaned forward, her eyes round with interest as Hermione produced a leather-bound book and placed it on the table in front of them. "It's all yours," she said.

  The telephone gave another ring, and Hermione got up to answer it. Diana looked at Steve, and together they moved to sit together on the sofa. With trembling fingers Diana opened the diary…

  …That day was a complete nightmare in many respects, but some things had to be done. Winston was a complete and utter pig, and Eleanor and I hated him. He had spent the latter years of his married life to Eleanor making her go through hell. Why we had returned from England with Alex was a mystery to me and the biggest mistake Eleanor had made. I know she had this misplaced duty towards him, but quite honestly he didn't deserve any of it.

  I loved Eleanor the first day I set eyes on her in that souk in Aden. One look into her helpless, clear blue eyes and I was completely smitten. I knew I would move heaven and earth to be with this woman and care for her.

  "Eleanor my love, my heart," I would say, and we would snuggle down together under the eiderdown on the sofa looking out at the rain-soaked garden beyond.

  "I want to stay with you like this forever," she whispered in return.

  While we lived together in my little cottage, I thought nothing would come between us, and she would have the baby there and we would raise it together, almost a 'normal' family. Her premature labour caught me on the hop, and I was totally unprepared when she presented two infants. It was so sad when the second twin was born blue and I was unable to revive it.

  Despite Eleanor's lack of maternal feelings, over the next few years she slowly became distressed. Eventually she began making tentative remarks about returning to Malaysia as it was her 'duty'.

  "But think, Eleanor, about what he'll say," I argued.

  "I must. Please Hermione you must understand."

  I eventually agreed but not until I told her about my plan. This way we could stay together and Winston would have his son and heir. She was hesitant at first, but looking at the child, she began to warm towards the idea. After all Winston had never shown too much interest in his previous children.

  We began Alex's education and once we were satisfied, Eleanor contacted Winston and said we were coming out to Malaysia to live. I was to be her companion and nurse. She was never that strong a person and needed someone to look after her.

  Winston was all I imagined him to be – and more. On one occasion he called me a filthy dyke while attempting to molest me at the same time. He was a beast of a man. As soon as he realised I was having none of him and I meant to stay with Eleanor, he became more abusive towards both of us. I feared for Eleanor, and as Alex became a teenager, my fear reached new heights. Winston had to go.

  "Eleanor," I said. "Leave it all to me. I'll think of something to stop him."

  Ever fearful, she sobbed as I held her in my arms.

  We suspected Winston was working in some way with the authorities, as he was acting strangely, and he had never needed so many arms before. When he gave Alex that last shooting lesson, and I had seen the way he had responded to Alex, I knew the time was right. For once Winston failed to lock the guns away – his study door was ajar, and I saw the open box lying on the carpet inside. I spoke to Alex and knew the gun was about to be returned to the others. It was simple to remove one gun and secrete it in the library. The argument between Paul Tan and Alex was reaching its climax when Alex's gun went off, and I
saw my chance. Shooting Winston was easy. I stood on the ledge and took aim. What I wasn't prepared for was the harsh recoil from the gun.

  I couldn't stand there dazed. I had to dash back into the library, conceal the gun and quickly join the others as they all squeezed into Winston's study. I acted surprised when I joined them and immediately took control, putting Eleanor to bed and taking care of a shocked Alex.

  Hugh, the family doctor noticed me favouring my bruised arm and cornered me later that afternoon. He had loved Eleanor from the first and knew the way her mind worked. Nothing escaped his eye, he knew we had hatched some plan between us. Hugh insisted on taking a look at my shoulder, and once he saw the extent of the bruising, he put two and two together. We knew we could trust him, as Eleanor could wrap him round her finger, there was nothing he was going to do to hurt her. Our secret was safe with him, but he did insist we do something about the child.

  I recalled his words on the day Emma had almost gone over the waterfall. "What are you going to do about the child? Don't you think that now Winston's dead you should come clean? The longer you leave it the worse it'll get. Can you imagine what people will say if you let it go on for much longer? Yes, they'll talk now once they hear the truth but it'll die down. Thirteen is a much better age to explain everything than twenty-one!" Hugh said with exasperation in his voice.

  So the time had come, to play the final act…

  …Diana gave Steve a look of excitement, and as she did so there was a sudden cry from Hermione. They both shot to their feet as she fell to the ground and rushed towards her. Her face was completely devoid of colour as she gasped.

  "She's not - she’s not…coming. She's passed away."

  Chapter 25

  Agios Mamas, Cyprus, One Month Later

  Diana leaned back in her chair with a satisfied smile as she wrote "The End". She had worked so hard these last few weeks and having access to Hermione's own diary confirmed the conclusions she had made. She took a moment or two to consider her final pages and then with a jaunt in her step went downstairs to find Steve.

  He was tackling a large and overgrown jasmine bush that, despite carrying the most glorious perfume, was in desperate need of a hefty pruning. As she called out to him, she gave a smile at his sweaty, red face.

  "Steve, I'm having a lime and soda, would you like one or a cold beer?"

  "Phew. This is hard work; the damn thing's grown so thick. Beer please."

  "Take a break; I'll bring them out onto the terrace. I've finished by the way."

  "What? Finished the manuscript? Well done. When can I read the last chapter?"

  "Now if you like."

  She returned with their drinks in her hands, her laptop under her arm. "There you are the final chapter: Hermione's story…"

  ~~~~~

  …Felicity and Emma went to live in England. They never returned to Malaysia but made new lives back in Britain with wealthy husbands and substantial allowances. Finally, Eleanor found the courage to come clean about Alex.

  I don't know if anyone else had suspicions about Winston's death. Paul's was an accident, I saw it myself, but I could never tell anyone, as that would have given me away.

  Life goes on, and sometimes a life has to be taken so others might live. I've never regretted saving my Eleanor from her monster of a husband, but I dread and shudder to think what would have happened once he knew Alex wasn't Alexander but Alexandra. That same day, when he had given Alex her shooting lesson, Winston had acted most peculiarly. It was probably the first time he had held her in his arms and must have felt something was odd about his son. I'm certain he guessed the truth, especially if Paul Tan had caused mischief by telling his story. He was another odd character. No, most probably Winston would have found a way of getting his own back. He could be quite ruthless when he wanted. It was probably a good thing Emma and Felicity left Malaysia when they did. Luckily they had their inheritance, even if they were shocked and hurt once they learnt about their ‘brother’. They couldn’t bring themselves to return to Malaysia to see her, to see Alexandra. I believe they never forgave their mother, Alex or me for our secret…

  …Steve shot an astonished look at Diana. "You never fail to amaze me. However do you know all this? How did you guess Alex was a girl all along and not a boy?"

  "I guessed early on that the shooter had to be left-handed and Hermione was the only one among the immediate family. Reading back through the early diaries, she poured tea with her left hand and also used a knife and fork the wrong way round. Miss Chalcot, as she was known to us, was definitely right-handed. We saw her write, or I did anyway in her study, with her right hand. The person who stood on the ledge had to be skinny with small feet. Hermione fitted the bill. She knew Alex had the gun, and had told her where her father had been – out on the terrace with Inspector Browning. Once she'd sent her there, Hermione raced back to the study, pinched a gun and hid in the library until Winston and Alex appeared. She didn't bargain for Paul coming along, but the argument took care of him nicely. She'd suspected Alex was attracted to him, as was Emma. Two shots were fired and it all passed off as a terrible accident. Because of the state security connection, the investigation was cursory: just enough to satisfy appearances.

  Hermione was the brains behind everything, Eleanor was too wishy-washy. She went along with it, so they could all live in harmony without the influence of Winston. Reading through the journals again, I found a line I'd skipped over. When Eleanor gave birth back in England, Hermione said that she hadn't finished. She admits there were two infants born in her own journal. Twins! I believe one was a boy and this baby died. This must have given Hermione the idea to pass off the baby girl as a boy. Why they took so long to return was because they were busy grooming Alexandra to act like a boy."

  Diana gave a big sigh. "I really feel for Alex though. Hugh the doctor was right. Poor child, she must have been so confused at times. When she wrote notes in her dairies, I wondered if 'he' was a girl. Things didn't all add up. 'He' never swam, never took his clothes off in front of his sisters. He hung around his mother and Hermione and did exactly what they said. The thirteen-year-old was weak and puny, not like a boisterous boy and I suppose they had kind of brainwashed Alex. Then there was Alex's hero-worship of Paul. She was in love as a young woman, not as a boy. I believe she was still embarrassed about those early years and wanted us to find out through detection."

  "Well done, I'm not sure I'd have thought along these lines. You certainly have a devious mind," Steve said with a smile.

  "Maybe it was best that poor Alex never knew the end, dying suddenly from her ghastly illness. She might have suspected, as she adored Hermione like a second mother, but she never knew for certain. I'm glad really. She knew everything else as she had the diaries; if she'd known Hermione had killed her father she might have felt differently."

  "I don't think so. Winston was a horrible bully to everyone, including Alex whom he considered his heir. I think in her heart she would have been relieved. What, if anything, are you going to do?"

  "What do you think?

  Steve gave her a lazy warm smile. "I knew you'd say that and I have to say I agree. The family's been through enough. Let the sleeping dragons lie."

  14th October 2011

  Please read on for a preview of “The Assassins’ Village” by Faith Mortimer

  “The Assassins’ Village” by Faith Mortimer.

  DRAMATIS PERSONAE

  Alicia, Director of Agios Mamas Village theatre group

  Yanoulla, Greek-Cypriot villager, lover to Kristiakis, seamstress

  Kristiakis, Greek-Cypriot villager, lover to Yanoulla, set-builder, brother to Antigone

  Diana, Authoress and actress, married to Steve

  Ann, Expatriate Villager, actress and playwright, married to Pete

  Steve, Expatriate Villager and business man, married to Diana

  Tony, Expatriate villager and playwright

  Pete, Expatriate villager, retired, married t
o Ann

  Leslie, Expatriate villager and artist, married to Sonja

  Bernard, Expatriate villager and actor, married to Jenny

  Jenny, Expatriate villager and gossip, married to Bernard

  Karl, Expatriate and actor, from another village

  Sonja, Expatriate villager, cake-maker

  Tilly, Fitness Instructor, actress, from another village

  Antigone, Greek-Cypriot villager, cheese-maker, sister to Kristiakis

  Elaine, Visitor from England, Diana’s sister

  Thomas, Visitor from England, son to Leslie

  Alexandros, Greek-Cypriot villager, father to Kristiakis and Antigone

  Police Inspector Andreas Christopopodoulou

  Police Sergeant, Greek-Cypriot Yiannis Loukiades

  Michaelis, Greek-Cypriot taverna owner

  “The Assassins’ Village” by Faith Mortimer.

  Cyprus. A Sunday in late August. Present day.

  Fair is foul, and foul is fair.

  Macbeth. Act 1 Scene 1

  ~~~

  If. Such a small word and yet… If only he had bothered to take a look at his actions. If he had cared one iota, maybe his life would not have been full of ego, lust, self-gratification and profligacy. Self-denial was unknown to him.

  ~~~

  He awoke confused and disorientated, barely able to breathe, his throat obstructed. He heard a voice; soft and persistent, close to his ear. Struggling against the cotton wool seemingly stuffed in his brain, he forced open his eyes. The man squinted at the blinding light. He knew he was lying down. The agonising pain in his left leg intensified when he attempted to move it from its impossible angle. A pain as sharp as a new razor blade cut through him. He shrieked in alarm, realising his leg was broken.