“Yes. We had a fabulous time and I’ve been to a wedding.”
“Lucy too?” Antonia was intrigued. She couldn’t imagine any man would be safe with Lucy around.
“No. It was before she came.”
“Ah. And how are preparations coming along for your own wedding?” Antonia asked. Was there hesitation in her niece’s voice, Antonia wondered, before Holly said, “Ticking along. Yes, left Tom in charge whilst I’m away and of course I keep in touch with Maria by email.”
Antonia tried to recall who Maria was. Holly knew such a lot of people. Then she remembered that was the wedding planner’s name.
“Well, that’s great. Were you just phoning for a chat or do you need help or anything?”
“No. I was just phoning to see if I can talk you into coming to visit me. It’s so lovely here.”
Antonia was delighted that her niece had thought of her, but at the back of her mind, something was brewing. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but there was definitely something.
“I’d love to darling, but I’ll need to see. What’s the nearest airport?”
“Florence, but if you want to go with the low cost airlines, you’re talking Pisa or Rome. They’re both about a three hour drive.”
“Three hour drive. Well, I’d need to come for more than just the weekend then, for it to be worth the hassle,” she said not unkindly.
“Even better,” said Holly.
“I’ll speak to Jack, but he’s busy with a case at the moment, so I think it will just be me.”
“Fantastic. We can have lots of girly chats then,” Holly always said the right thing.
“Anyway, best go. I know how busy you are.”
“Thanks for phoning, Holly. Maybe I can get out next month.”
“Look forward to it. Bye.”
As Antonia put the phone back in her bag, she realised she’d have to get to the bottom of the Felix situation before jetting off anywhere. She was due a break though. It had been ages since their trip to New Zealand and they’d only managed the odd weekend to the lakes since then, not enough to sustain you when you worked as hard as they did. Besides, if Louise could go off gallivanting around the world for a year, what was to stop Antonia going to Italy for a week?
The weekend soon came around and it was all Antonia could do to get the housework done, before she started cooking for the party. In all fairness, Clara did help and even insisted she make dessert, white chocolate pots, simple but delicious. Jack was off playing golf and Felix was in his room, studying, desperately trying to improve his grades, so he could get out next month. He made no secret of the unfairness of it all, silent when he did venture downstairs, although he stomped around in his room and on the stairs to such an extent, that his father came out and told him to cut it out immediately. Antonia could hear him on his mobile, which she’d forgotten to confiscate. That was too great a distraction for him to have.
Antonia swept into his room and said, “I’ll have that, thanks. You can get it back, when you let us know what’s going on.”
“Mum,” wailed Felix.
“Enough,” she admonished him with a stern glance and he instantly backed down. Felix had been on the receiving end of his mother’s tongue too many times and it wasn’t an experience he relished.
Antonia went to shower and change her clothes. The house sparkled. Her guests could have eaten their dinner off any surface in the house. They were all immaculate. It was a bonus about entertaining. You had to do a mountain of housework for them coming, but then the house was clean and tidy for a good while after that, in theory at least, not counting one messy husband and a slobbish teenage boy. Clara was like her, tidy to a fault. All of her clothes were sorted in her wardrobe, hangers facing the same way, co-ordinated by colour and season. Her shoes were still in the boxes.
Antonia luxuriated in the spa shower. It had been expensive, but it was worth it on occasions like this, when she’d worked hard all day, or on her day off, to feel as if she were being pampered. The jets sprayed out from six different holes and water swooshed over her body, relaxing her. Tilting her face upwards to the huge showerhead, she let the water cascade over her hair, face and shoulders. Squirting shower gel over her body, she rubbed it in slowly. She liked to take her time when getting ready for a dinner party, particularly when she was hostess.
After drying her hair, she used her straighteners to make it glossy and smooth. As she painted her fingernails, she thought she didn’t brush up too badly for her age. Dousing herself liberally with perfume, she finished off with a little spray in her cleavage. She donned cream trousers, with a red blouse, and matching camisole underneath; then, she popped cream, Cuban heels on her feet. Gold leaf earrings and a pendant were added and then she was ready. It wasn’t often she dressed up like this, only when they had company or went to the theatre. Around the house she wore jeans or joggers.
Jack came in as she was applying mascara. He kissed her, told her she looked beautiful and left to shower. It was so much easier for men.
Antonia bustled around the kitchen, apron over her trousers, applying the finishing touches to the meal, whilst she awaited her guests. White wine chilled in the fridge, the Pinot Noir breathing on the worktop. Everything was ready. Then the doorbell rang. As Antonia went to answer it, first removing her apron, she smoothed her hair in the hall mirror, whilst Jack came downstairs to join her.
“Hi Carrie. Come on in. Malcolm, nice to see you again,” she greeted her best friend from her previous job and her husband. The men shook hands, the women received kisses and embraces. Jack passed their coats to Felix who disappeared to hang the coats upstairs.
Antonia had just invited them to take a seat in the lounge, where she would serve drinks, when the bell rang again.
“I’ll get it,” Jack said.
Jack showed the guests in. Elvi was one of the teachers at the kids’ school, but they had met through Chris. Chris was one of their friends from the gym. Guiltily Antonia realised she hadn’t been recently. Jack tended to go in the morning. He was usually up with the larks.
Ten minutes later, last as usual, came Patricia and Edmund. Pat was a friend of Antonia’s from school. They saw each other three times in a month and then didn’t see each other for two years. Yet, they always drifted back together seamlessly, as if they’d only spoken yesterday, a symbol of true friendship, Antonia always thought.
Once all the guests were settled, Antonia served the canapés; little gem lettuces with cucumber, mint and chilli yoghurt; crostini with brie and grape; artichoke bites in puff pastry and finally Catalan toasts with sun-blushed tomatoes.
“These are lovely,” gushed Carrie.
“Have some more,” Antonia offered her the serving dish again.
Next Antonia served the starter of aubergine terrine with mushroom duxelle. It hit the spot with her guests.
“I have to confess, Antonia. I wasn’t sure it was my thing. I don’t think I’ve ever had terrine before, although I’ve seen it on menus, but this is delicious,” Edmund said in his lovely west coast drawl. Edmund had met Pat when she was in the States for a training course. After a short courtship, he’d chucked in the job he’d detested anyway and moved to the UK.
“Thanks,” Antonia beamed at him.
After a short interval, the main course was served. Tournedos of beef, topped with mushrooms, with roast potatoes, done in goose fat and shredded Savoy cabbage. There was much ooh-ing and aah-ing, as this was served up.
“I am never going to be able to move again,” expressed Elvi in dismay.
“Ah, don’t sweat it,” said Edmund. “Enjoy tonight, repent tomorrow and go for a long walk.”
They were discussing the best local places to go walking, when the doorbell rang. Jack looked at Antonia questioningly. She shrugged.
“I’ll go,” she said.
She heard the chatter continue, as she closed the dining room door behind her. She opened the front door and took a step back in fright.
A policeman stood in front of her.
“Mrs Bacon?”
She nodded. “Is everything OK?” Clara was the only one out of the house, but she knew that she was safely at Giselle’s. She’d called when she arrived.
“We need to speak to you about your son, Felix.”
“Sorry, I didn’t catch your name, Officer,” Antonia looked back at the dining room door, behind which her guests were busy enjoying themselves.
“I didn’t give my name. It’s Archie Furnival and I’m not here on police business. Yet,” he added.
Antonia must have looked suitably confused as he rushed on, pushing a young girl in front of him.
“This is my daughter, Jessica. She’s made an allegation against your son,” he said. and I’d like to get to the bottom of it before I have to make it official, if you wouldn’t mind.”
Wordlessly, she showed them into the hall.
Chapter Fifty Two
Jack - LIBRA
Diplomatic and refined. Intelligent, thoughtful and warm. Romantic, crave relationships and enjoy luxury. Have strong sense of justice. Good leaders. Peacemakers.
“The Daicovicius and Mr Manning are in reception,” Jack’s secretary, Gloria, announced.
“Show them in,” Jack said. Thomas Manning had briefed him on the phone the other day. It was the first case of its kind to be brought against the NHS in Scotland. The Daicovicu’s son had needed emergency surgery for a burst appendix. He was mistakenly administered the wrong drug and dosage and died shortly afterwards in hospital. It would normally be a clear-cut case of medical negligence, but there was nothing clear-cut about this case. Alexandr Daicoviciu was an illegal immigrant, who’d managed to evade detection in the nine months he’d lived in Scotland, whilst he sought work and a way to gain legal status. His dreams of making a new life for himself and his family, who’d stayed behind in Bucharest, had ended in his death. Now his family wanted justice, justice and compensation for the wife and son he’d left behind. It was Jack’s job to ensure they got it. It was just the sort of challenge he relished. Something which hadn’t been done before.
In some ways it was a miracle that Jack was an Advocate, he was so laid back. He worked hard for his clients, but he wasn’t stuffy, but down to earth and he seemed to connect more easily with jurors as a result. Added to that, the people he prosecuted often let things slip to him as he was so disarming, they let their guard down.
“Pleased to meet you,” Jack held out his hand, first to the victim’s father, then to his wife, then to the widow and finally to the interpreter. “Please, take a seat.” Jack asked the interpreter if they knew any English. The father knew a little, but the women didn’t speak any English. Jack asked the interpreter to relay to the Daicovicius what he knew so far. Mr Daicoviciu asked the interpreter a barrage of questions. Mr Manning came back to Jack with,
“Did his son have any rights? Has a similar case happened before? Can they get help with the cost of taking his body home? Can they get compensation for his family? Will there be an interpreter in the court? Who pays for that?”
Jack answered their questions one by one. The Daicovicius had arrived two days ago, initially to arrange to take their son’s body home, but the Home Office wasn’t yet willing to release it, given its connection to the scandal. Both mother and wife had wept floods at this. Thomas Manning was the interpreter brought in to help the family. As it was so early in the proceedings, they didn’t know when the case would be heard. Jack said he would be in touch with the NHS and the Home Office about repatriating the body to Romania. He took as many details as he could from them about what Alexandr was doing here, when he’d been here, if he had lived in the UK previously, if so, where. He asked question after question in an attempt to build up a complete profile. Eventually, when he felt he had exhausted all possibilities, he told them he would contact them shortly and Gloria showed them out.
Jack finished his note taking and buzzed Gloria through to retrieve the dictation.
“Can you type this up for me ASAP?”
“No problem,” Gloria sashayed back out of the room. Jack glanced at his diary to see what the rest of his day held. Ah, his least favourite case, the Lafferty murder trial. Dave Lafferty, eighteen, of Nitshill, Glasgow, was accused of stabbing to death a twenty seven year old mentally handicapped man at a bus shelter in Edinburgh’s Leith area, whilst his two friends looked on. Apparently he had done it for kicks, one of his friends capturing it on his mobile. The wonders of technology, Jack thought. Not only did it advance us for good, but also for evil. What motivated these people to kill an innocent person? Could it be attributed to violence on TV? After years of programmers and film-makers saying no, now medical research was saying yes. Was it really all down to social factors? And what of the two who had looked on? They were appearing on less serious charges, but even if they were convicted, with good behaviour and parole, they’d be out in minimal time.
Sometimes the whole Justice system made Jack weary. The charade the courts perpetrated wasn’t Justice. Too many crooks had excellent counsel who could get them off, especially the rich. The prisons were too full and the prison service was a shambles. Prisoners likely to re-offend, were being allowed out into the community before the end of their jail term. If they happened to escape, the response was, ‘our procedures and processes were followed.’ It was a joke.
Dave Lafferty’s parents were ordinary, blue collar, working class, good people. They hadn’t much money, but they believed they’d instilled the correct values into their son. So, where had it all gone wrong?
Sometimes it was a relief to go home, throw off the cloak of the Law and lead a normal life like everyone else. Except it wasn’t really like that. Jack spent hours locked in his study, answering emails, preparing for court, making calls and spending less time with his family. He had to make some changes. He worked to live, not the other way round. Maybe he should think about early retirement. But how to pay for school fees, the luxury holidays, plus their £600,000 home in Newton Mearns? He’d always intended to work until he was sixty-five, but now, it was worth re-evaluating.
Jack thought back to when he first met Antonia. She was very attractive and had such presence, which he found alluring. They didn’t have much back then, as students. Although several years older than her, they’d both been at the University of Glasgow at the same time, as Jack had taken a gap year, back when it wasn’t yet called that. Antonia had gone to university to read English and Russian a year earlier than usual, when Jack was in his final year. At that time there weren’t as many business courses available. You went to university, unless you studied Medicine or Law, to gain an education, not simply to pass exams and get a job. He felt for his children now. There was so much pressure these days, to do well, to get good grades, go to a top university.
For all the worldly goods they’d amassed over the years and despite the fact that they had an excellent marriage, could he really say he was happier now? OK, nothing was quite the same as the first flush of young love, but even with the addition of their two children, all the money they had now, didn’t make them any happier. In fact, they saw so much less of each other now, as they were always working. What was the point? Couldn’t they just live with less stuff?
Jack worked late that afternoon. He didn’t often have these maudlin lapses, but afterwards he always attacked work with renewed vigour. Of course he knew why he was still here. He wanted to get scum off the streets, make the country safe for its citizens to live in, including his family. The cruelty, brutality and pure evil he saw just unnerved him sometimes. The legal profession had a reputation for being emotionless, but it simply wasn’t true. They were just people at the end of the day, not immune to feeling. It was no different to a doctor or nurse’s attitude in the face of sickness or death. It was their coping mechanism. This case, with the mentally handicapped man, had sickened him. The man was defenceless. He didn’t even know what was going on. He felt the same anger when he prosecuted young men
who’d murdered a ninety year old for her pension, or in some cases the fifty pences which were in her electricity meter. Society was changing and not for the better.
Looking at his Rolex, he saw it was six thirty. He’d call his golfing buddy, Oscar, see if he was free.
“Hello?” Oscar answered.
“Hi, it’s Jack.”
“Jack! How you doing?”
“Good thanks. You?”
“OK, sales are slow.”
It flitted through Jack’s mind that Oscar had just characterised his well-being by how well work was going.
“You busy?” Jack cut straight to the point.
“I was just finishing off. Why?”
“Any plans for tonight?”
“Well, I was going to the gym, but I don’t know if I can be bothered.”
“So how does a pint sound?”
“Great. It’s been a long day.”
“Well, I’m at the office. How about I meet you in All Bar One in half an hour?”
“Sure. Best get finished off.”
“See you in a bit.”
As Jack opened the door to the pub, two young women burst out, already rather inebriated, giggling their heads off. Maybe more than drink was responsible for their light-heartedness. There was something vacant about the eyes, which might have been an indication of something narcotic.
He’d experimented with drugs himself in the sixties, everyone had. Nobody knew of the negative effects it could have, the depression and schizophrenia it could cause. He hadn’t touched drugs since. He thought Felix had probably experimented with drugs, but he couldn’t see Clara doing it. He’d have to be careful she didn’t get in with a bad crowd.
She was a good girl, very intelligent, and sending her to Craigholme, a private single sex school, had been one of their better ideas. It was a pity they needed to go down this route, as neither he nor Antonia had attended private school, but with Education in its current state, they owed it to their children to give them the best possible start.
Sign of the Times Page 30
