'It's good to see you again,' Bruno was saying slowly. 'It's been a long time.'
Norrie's chin came up. 'But not long enough.'
His face hardened and he dropped his arm. 'I see you haven't changed.'
'And nor have you,' she countered coldly. 'Your being here proves that. You're still in the destruction business.'
'I'm merely doing my job.'
'Oh, sure. That's what the Gestapo said when they sent people to the gas chambers.' She stepped forward to go by him, but now Harry Simons was in her way.
'You two seem to know each other,' he observed, making no effort to conceal his surprise and annoyance as he looked at Norrie.
'Why yes, we know each other from—way back,' Bruno answered. Adding, 'But please don't be swayed by Miss Peters's opinions. Although harmless, she is inclined to base her assumptions on hearsay rather than truth.' Then, before Norrie could think of a suitable retort, he walked on into the office with Harry following at his heels like a dog.
Furious at his parting shot, Norrie stepped out on to the pavement and turned to walk blindly along the High Street, again railing against the fate that had brought Bruno to Welford. It had been so long ago and so far away; she'd really thought that she was rid of him for ever. But now he had turned up again to break her fragile hold on happiness at the very least. And at the most—Norrie shuddered as she remembered how Bruno had ruined her life before.
The pungent smell of manure drifted across on the breeze and Norrie realised that she had walked all the way to the cattle market. It was held every Wednesday, the stalls in the big sheds standing empty the rest of the week. Some pigs were being herded into a farm truck ready to be driven away, large purple numbers painted on their pink backs. The driver hailed her as she wandered over; she'd done a feature about the market only a couple of months ago and had got to know most of the men working there.
She stood for a while amid the noise and bustle as the auctioneers conducted the sale, seeming to take bids out of the air as they moved slowly down the rows of penned animals. There was a small hut used as a snack bar attached to the market and Norrie went inside and bought herself a cup of tea. The cup was chipped but the tea was good and strong and she swallowed it thirstily, wishing it was something a lot stronger. She was glad she was angry, Norrie decided. Glad that, if she'd had to meet Bruno at all, she'd met him head on, the old hatred and bitterness welling up to make her hit out at him. Although she very much doubted that she'd hurt him at all. She gave a mental laugh of self-derision; if anyone got hurt it would be herself. After this morning's little episode, if Bruno hadn't already decided to sack her then Harry undoubtedly would. He'd looked mad as fire when she'd been so openly rude to Bruno, whom he was obviously trying to keep sweet.
Leaning back against the wooden wall of the snack bar, Norrie closed her eyes and tried to think what to do as emotionlessly as possible. Not that it had ever been possible where Bruno was concerned. She had fallen disastrously in love with him the moment she'd met him when she was only nineteen, gladly giving him whatever he'd wanted: her body, her soul, and the information he'd needed to ruin her father. A year later her father had died in a car crash that involved no one else and was officially an accident, but which Norrie was quite certain had been suicide. She wondered if Bruno knew that her father was dead, whether he cared.
Her first instinct on hearing his name was to run, as far away as possible. But she had done that once and he had come back into her life; the world of local newspapers was the only one she knew and wasn't that large, even if she went away it was possible she might meet him again eventually. Although it wasn't a possibility that she'd envisaged before now, otherwise she might never have come to work for the Observer. And anyway, why run? She wasn't the one who had anything to feel guilty about. Better, surely, to stay and face him, to get him out of her system once and for all?
That was the logical and sensible way to behave of course, but Norrie wasn't sure that she had the courage to do it, she would much rather be a coward and rim. She must be able to get some other kind of work, in an office or a shop or something. But her soul cringed away from being stuck inside all day long; she was used to getting out and about and would find the loss of her freedom very hard to bear. Then there was the problem of Ben. If she took any other kind of job she would have to pay for him to be looked after all day, and although her brother gave her quite enough to pay for Ben's keep, she knew that Geoff was saving up to start his own business when he came back to England and she was reluctant to ask him for more money.
'Oh, damn Bruno Denton! Damn him, damn him, damn him!' she exclaimed aloud, making the two farmers who were in the snack bar turn and grin as they looked at her.
One said jocularly, 'Tell us who he is, lass, and we'll set the bull on him.'
'I wish you could,' Norrie said feelingly, liking the idea a great deal.
Moodily she put down her cup and walked back through the town again, still angry as she thought of all the changes Bruno had made to her life and the people she had worked with back in Devon. And they had just stood back and let it happen, as the people on the Observer probably would unless someone got them together to stand up to Bruno and his so-called reforms. Not that she could see anyone taking on the task; Welford was a comfortably sleepy town and the staff on the Observer weren't exactly the militant types, even though they all belonged to the print union. They were all probably hoping against hope that they would keep their jobs, and wouldn't want to start anything in case they were looked on as troublemakers and were the first to go. Or perhaps they didn't think they were in any danger. But then they didn't know the way Bruno worked and how ruthless he could be to get what he wanted. Only Norrie knew that. So maybe it was up to her to tell her colleagues, to stir them into putting up some sort of resistance so that Bruno didn't just tread them into oblivion as he had the staff in Devon.
Norrie stood still and gazed at her reflection in a shop window. She saw a tall, slim girl of twenty-four years old, with curly fair hair and not a bad face, attractive enough to draw a few wolf whistles anyway. But did she have what it took to rouse the people at the Observer to fight Bruno? She was certainly angry enough; all the old hate and bitterness had come seething back just at the sound of his name, like a volcano that had lain dormant for years and had suddenly erupted again with increased violence. If she told them what had happened in Devon and passed that anger on ... And it would certainly give her a great deal of satisfaction to put a spoke in Bruno's wheel, to stop him from getting an easy victory. She smiled to herself and for a moment she was startled; that reflected smile had looked really nasty. But then Norrie shrugged and tossed her head as she turned away. So what the hell? Bruno deserved everything he got, and much, much more. Nothing she could do to him would ever make up for the evil he had done to her and her father.
Glancing at her watch, Norrie saw that it was nearly eleven, which gave almost a whole hour before she went to collect Ben. You could do a lot in an hour. Determined now on what she was going to do, she started to walk briskly back towards the Observer offices.
In the printing industry the union representatives are usually known as 'The Father of the Chapel', a Chapel being a printing firm. At the Observer the Father of the Chapel was called Ted Burtenshaw; he was a man of about fifty-five who had been in printing all his life and who did little more than preside over the quarterly meetings, collect the dues when you joined, and get drunk at the annual binge. Norrie sought him out in the linotype room. 'Got a few minutes to spare, Ted?'
As all he was doing was standing and having a cigarette, he nodded and came over. 'What's up?'
'I'd like to have a quiet word with you, about this company that's taking us over. And about Bruno Denton.'
Ted's eyes lit with curiosity. 'You know something?' he asked, walking to a quiet corner of the big room, away from the other men.
Norrie nodded. 'Quite a bit—and none of it good. You see, I used to work on a paper in Devo
n . . .' She talked rapidly, stressing Bruno's roughshod methods but being very careful not to mention her own emotional involvement with him.
Ted's eyes widened in amazement and his usually placid face grew red. 'Are you sure of all this?'
'Of course I'm sure. I was there. You can check the facts for yourself if you want. It happened over four and a half years ago, and the name of the paper was the Westland Gazette,'
'But you say Denton was working for a different company then?'
'Yes, he was,' Norrie admitted. 'But the man's the same, Ted. He hasn't changed.'
'No, I see what you mean.' Ted stroked his chin. 'Thanks for telling me. We'll have to do something about this.'
'What will you do?' Norrie urged. 'Call a meeting? I'd like to come to it.'
'Yes, you must. The others will want to know. Yes, I suppose we'd better have an emergency meeting. I was going to wait until after we'd heard a bit more, but now . .. Well, this puts a different complexion on things. I'll have a word with some of the lads first though. And I'd better find out what I can about this firm that's taking us over. We don't want to go off half cock,' he said with all his native caution.
Norrie looked at him rather frustratedly, knowing that she wasn't going to get any further with him for the time being. But there was more than one way to kill a cat . .. She left him and walked back through to the offices.
'Hey, I thought I told you to go home,' Sue exclaimed when Norrie put her head into her office.
'I changed my mind. Are you doing anything for lunch?'
'Nothing that can't be shelved.' Sue looked at her speculatively. 'I hear you had a brush with the new broom this morning. Couldn't be something to do with that, could it?'
After wincing at the pun, Norrie nodded and said, 'It could be at that. Interested?'
'I'll say. Where and when?'
'I've got to go and collect Ben now, but I'll meet you at the Welford Arms at twelve-thirty.'
'The Lord Nelson's nearer,' Sue objected.
'Yes, but it doesn't have a garden. I can't take Ben into the pub so we'll have to eat outside. Okay?'
'Okay, but it had better be good.'
'The food or the story?'
'The story of course.'
Norrie laughed. 'I know you'll be interested, but I don't think you're going to like it. See you, I've got to run or I'll be late for Ben.'
And Norrie literally had to run, arriving at the nursery school just as Ben was beginning to look uncertainly round for her, his cheeky face breaking into a big grin when she came in the gate.
'We were beginning to think you weren't going to make it,' the nursery teacher scolded.
'Sorry. Got delayed,' Norrie panted.
'We can take Ben five mornings a week when the new term starts,' the woman offered. 'Someone's moving away so there'll be a place.'
'That's great. You'd like that wouldn't you Ben?' There was just a trace of anxiety in Norrie's tone.
'Will Debbie and Sara be here?' Ben demanded.
Norrie grinned. 'Of course.'
'He's after the girls already,' the teacher laughed.
'Just like his father,' Norrie remarked unthinkingly, then caught a quick glance from the teacher that made her giggle as she walked away. Now it would probably be all over the town that Ben's father was a sex-maniac. Which was far from the truth, she thought, sobering suddenly. Geoff had enjoyed going out with girls, certainly, and had had a great variety of them until he had met Janet and fallen deeply in love with her. But Janet had died after only a few years of marriage and as far as Norrie knew Geoff hadn't looked at another woman since, going to Saudi Arabia to bury himself in his work. And leaving Norrie to hold the baby! But who cared when he was as adorable as Ben. She bent suddenly and gave the child a big hug. He suffered it, smugly aware—as all children are—that he was totally irresistible.
'Come on,' she told him, straightening up and taking his hand. 'We're having a treat today. We're going to have lunch at the pub.'
His eyes grew round at that and he strutted importantly along beside her, taking as big a step as he could manage.
They found a good table, in the sun but sheltered from the breeze by a wall. 'Can I have beer?' Ben demanded.
'No, but you may have Coke, which is fizzy like beer. A sort of children's beer. But we have to wait for a friend to arrive first.'
Sue turned up about ten minutes later and looked after Ben while Norrie went inside to buy the drinks and order the food. When she came out the two of them were deep in conversation about space rockets, which were Ben's favourite thing at the moment, and Norrie couldn't get a word in until Ben was tucking into his scampi and chips.
'Wow!' Sue exclaimed. 'Doesn't he ever stop talking?'
'Not often,' Norrie admitted. 'But I don't like to shut him up too much.'
'He'd probably burst with frustration if you did. He's very intelligent, though.' She looked wistful for a moment. 'You're lucky to have him.' Sue hadn't any children of her own.
Norrie smiled at her warmly. 'Yes, I know.'
'Even in the circumstances?' Sue asked, raising an eyebrow.
'What circumstances?'
'Not being married.'
'In any circumstances,' Norrie said firmly. It was the first time that Sue had ever asked even the most casual question about Ben, and Norrie didn't see why she should enlighten her. Anyway, she liked to think of Ben as her own; he was all she had. 'Now, about Bruno Denton,' she began.
'Of course.' Sue sat forward eagerly. 'Give. It was all over the office about your clash with him this morning. The girls on the desk saw all and, as you can well imagine, they were telling everyone else within minutes. It seems you know him quite well?'
'Well enough to hate him,' Norrie told her feelingly.
'Really? Is that why you nearly passed out this morning? When you heard that he was here?' Sue asked shrewdly.
'Hearing his name did come as rather a shock, I admit. You didn't tell anyone, did you?' she added anxiously.
Sue shook her head. 'No, I didn't connect the two until you came back to the office. How did you meet him?'
'The company he was working for at the time took over the paper I was working on in Devon some years ago. They sent him along to put it back on its feet. He did, but in the process he also put several people out of work, most of whom had worked on the paper for years. Okay, maybe some of them were past it. But it' was the way he did it, so cruelly, without any regard for their feelings. One of them even committed suicide a year later.'
'No! Who was he?'
'He was the editor. And as it happens he was also my father.'
'Norrie! You mean to say that.. .? Good God, I said he was a cold bastard, but I didn't think that...' Sue stopped, at a temporary loss for words until she said, 'No wonder you hate him!'
'Quite. But the point is, will he do the same to the Observer as he did to my father's paper?'
'Lord, yes. Tell me exactly what happened.'
So Norrie went through it again, ending, 'I've already talked to Ted Burtenshaw and told him all this, but you know how slow he is; I thought I'd better tell someone in the office as well, so as you're my boss ...'
'And you were right. Your Bruno Denton needn't think he can ride roughshod over . ..'
'He isn't my Bruno Denton,' Norrie interrupted sharply.
Sue looked at her in surprise and again that speculative look came into her eyes. 'How long ago did you say all this happened?'
'More than four years ago.'
'Yes.' Sue's gaze fell fleetingly on Ben. 'Of course Denton's a very good-looking devil. I expect he more or less charmed his way in before he showed his ruthless side?'
'Something like that,' Norrie admitted slowly, turning her head away.
To her relief Sue didn't pursue the subject, instead discussing ways and means of handling the situation. Norrie was glad to let her take over, knowing that Sue was far more experienced than she was, and encouraging her to be as militant as pos
sible. After a while, though, Ben started to get restless and fretful; he was tired and wanted to have his sleep, so the two women parted with Sue promising to ginger up Ted and do what she could among the rest of the staff. Norrie carried Ben home and by the time they got there he was asleep on her shoulder; she laid him down on his bed and rubbed her arm; he was getting too heavy to carry any great distance. He looked so innocent when he was asleep, a far cry from the imp of mischief he was when awake. He had her brother's fair hair and grey eyes, as were Norrie's, and she often saw Geoff in him, but there was nothing of his mother, not that Norrie could really remember Janet very well after all these years, although she conscientiously kept a photograph of her on display for Ben's sake, but so far he had shown little curiosity about it and Norrie didn't push it.
Later that afternoon, Sue rang and said that Ted Burtenshaw had arranged an emergency union meeting for ten the next morning and they wanted Norrie to be there, which she promised she would. It meant having to pay someone to look after Ben, but it was a small price to pay to annoy Bruno, although she hoped that the outcome of the meeting would do a whole lot more than just annoy him.
That evening Norrie went through the suitcase containing all her father's papers, sorting out all the written evidence she could find to back up her story about the Westland Gazette: written statements from sacked members of the staff, copies of union meeting minutes, that kind of thing. She wanted to make her case as strong as she possibly could, knowing that she might eventually have to face Bruno with it. Her heart quailed suddenly at the thought and her anger evaporated into deep depression. She had once loved him so much, she would have given her life for him. But never her father's life. From somewhere the thought came to give her strength again. She must do this to avenge her father if for nothing else. Forget everything but that, forget how intimately close they'd been and how gladly she'd given herself to Bruno, forget that he'd taught her how to love and be loved, changing her from virgin to woman and lifting her to the heights of passion and dizzy pleasure along the way. Now all she must remember was watching her father's deepening despair as he wished his life away, and her own hate and bitterness when he died. She must carry that memory with her tomorrow morning and use it to influence the rest of the staff, because that was the only way she could beat Bruno. He was a man ruled by his ambition. She had found that out too late, but at least her experience might help her colleagues now.
Fatal Deception Page 2
