The transformation was quite astonishing, and Pat admired the clean-shaven reasonably dressed figure in the mirror.
“Not bad Pat,” he spoke the words aloud. “Now let’s clean this shithole up.
He glanced around at the filthy surroundings. Within no time, Pat had filled three black bin bags with empty bottles, newspapers, old clothes, cigarette cartons and anything else that had no place in his reformed life. He was determined to clean up his tainted existence and get away from the grip of alcohol which was threatening to drag him into the gutter, which seemed just a few steps away.
When he was satisfied with the appearance of the flat, he picked up his mobile phone and scrolled down his contacts list.
“Hi Danny, it’s Pat, I need to see you.”
“What’s up Pat, are you broke again?”
“I’m always broke, but I want to come back.”
“Are you drunk Pat.”
“Of course not I’m finished with the bottle. Can we meet at lunch time; say one o’clock at Benny’s?”
“Sure thing Pat but you’d better be serious; you’ve said all this before.”
“I am serious this time. I’ll see you later Danny, thanks mate.”
Danny Wilder was Pat’s only life-line. Anyone who had never met him could be mistaken for analysing his character from his appearance. A small man of no more than five foot three, Danny possessed a very loud voice and intimidating manner which seemed out of place given his generous personality. He had earned a reputation as a tough editor who would not tolerate substandard journalism in his office. Pat had learnt all he knew from this man, and he had let him down badly, yet still he stood by him. It was now Pat’s turn to repay the favour in full.
Replacing his phone into his jacket pocket, Pat smiled to himself. This was the beginning of his new life, his last chance to sober up and regain a degree of self discipline and respect. The other option was to be controlled by demons. Or dying in squalor in a filthy back street, choking on his own vomit. He would be remembered as a hopeless alcoholic who achieved nothing in his life. That was not going to happen. Patrick Hinds was back and he was going straight to the top without a drink in his hand, but first he had to convince Danny that he could be trusted. He had abused the one man who had stood by him without passing judgement, always making sure he had enough work to keep him off the streets. This time it would be different; he was filled with the same intense hunger to succeed that had driven him to the top as young man and he wanted it back.
Pat took his trophy from the shelf and blew a layer of dust away. Despite the years of neglect, the inscription was still legible beneath the grime. Polishing it with pride, he placed it back on the shelf in a prominent position with his name clearly visible on the front. Taking a cigarette from a half-empty carton, he lit the end with a trembling hand and stared intently at the inanimate object that symbolised all that he had once been. As he inhaled deeply, he was reminded of the days when he would sit typing his reports with fervour, smoking one cigarette after another until the room was thick with smoke. Driven by adrenalin and rewarded with promotion, Pat had attained respect and sincerity from his fellow colleagues. Now he was at rock bottom and no one remembered his glory days; no one except Danny Wilder and now it was time to repay him for his loyalty. He felt euphoric and determined not be beaten by a bottle. Stubbing out his cigarette, he stuffed the crumpled carton into his pocket and left the flat to meet Danny hoping desperately that his resolve to kick his destructive habit would be greater than the cravings that kept him captive.
CHAPTER 3.
FRIDAY SEPTEMBER 30TH.
“You’re going to be late for work if you don’t get up shortly,” Ben gently nudged his wife.
“I’m not going in today, I’ve made an appointment with Dr. Lewis I need some stronger painkillers for my migraines,” Kate replied plumping up her pillow.
“Have you phoned Barbara or shall I?”
“I did it last night, but thanks anyway. What are you looking for?”
“My grey tie, have you seen it?” he asked searching carefully through his meticulously arranged wardrobe.
“No, sorry love,” Kate shrugged.
“It has to be here, I remember putting it away myself,” he frowned.
“Perhaps it’s fallen down amongst your shoes,” Kate tried not to smirk.
“No I’ve already looked there,” he replied adjusting the hangers.
“Have you looked in your sock drawer?” she suggested.
“Of course not, why would I put it in there?” he muttered.
“I’ve got it, its’ in my jacket pocket,” he pulled out the crumpled tie.
“Does it look creased?” he asked smoothing it with his hands.
“Let me see.” Kate sat up and smiled, “It just needs straightening, come here.”
Ben took a step towards the bed from where Kate grabbed his tie, pulled him close to her and kissed him tenderly. Folding back the duvet, she patted the sheet.
“Why don’t you get in?”
“I don’t have time for this love,” he gently removed her arms from his neck.
“It doesn’t usually take you long,” she teased.
“Don’t tempt me,” he cupped her face in his hands, kissed her forehead and then her lips.
“Are you sure you don’t have time?” she attempted to persuade him.
“Later love, just think how much better it’ll be, anyway I thought you were supposed to be ill,” he winked and pulled away.
“I am ill,” she giggled, leapt out of bed, and dashed to the bathroom
Ben was meeting Alex Lawton- the owner of the very prestigious and rapidly expanding Lotus Hotel Group- for the second time, but Kate was unaware of their first meeting. He had not been alone at the time, and he did not want to jeopardise his marriage again.
Unfortunately for Ben, he had taken an instant disliking to the man without any rational explanation. Lawton had been extremely hospitable during their first meeting, but Ben just couldn’t warm to him. He wasn’t the kind of person he would actively choose to spend time with, but as a prospective client, he was prepared to tolerate him for the time it took to secure the deal. Lawton had been eager for Ben to submit proposals for a cleaning contract to cover all his hotels, and he had been only too willing to comply with his wishes. He had spent weeks preparing and presenting his schedule, with a generous discount for the enormity of the work involved, but after three months he had assumed it was unacceptable, until he received a phone call from the hotel informing him of an appointment to discuss the proposal. Now he was beginning to feel anxious at the prospect of meeting him again, and checked his appearance once more. Adjusting his tie for the third time, he called out to his wife as she stepped out of the shower.
“I’ll see you later, love, I should be in at around six.”
“What times your meeting?” she appeared in the doorway with a towel just covering her breasts, and droplets of water falling from her hair onto the carpet.
“You’re dripping on the carpet love.”
“It’s just water Ben, not acid rain. What times your meeting?” she repeated.
“Half past eleven, I’ll ring you later,” he kissed her, picked up his brief-case and left harbouring an unaccustomed sensation of increasing anxiety. Ben had played down the importance of the contract with Lawton. He hadn’t told Kate the full details in case he wasn’t successful. Secretly he was confident, but as an experienced businessman he was well aware of the pit-falls and the need to exercise caution, until all documents were signed.
As the front door closed, Kate opened her wardrobe door, scanned the row of clothes and selected a pair of trousers and a thick sweater. She dressed quickly, and then pulled on a pair of flat boots. Taking her keys from the bedside locker, she dropped them in her handbag and slipped on a woollen jacket to keep out the cold. As she dashed down the stairs, she experienced a rush of adrenalin at the prospect of the day’s events. Taking the road atlas fro
m the shelf, she turned to the relevant page, and circled her destination. It would have been much easier to use the sat nav, but Ben had insisted on taking it with him. Studying the route, it appeared to be a straight forward journey of approximately fifty miles, mostly on ‘A’ roads. Even if she set out after lunch, she would still be back before Ben arrived home at six o’clock. Although she had no idea what she was looking for or what she would accomplish, she was driven by a compelling urge to visit the café. She had to know who these people were, and how the photographs had found their way into her life. Before she left the house, Kate took the photographs from her sewing box and placed them safely at the bottom of her hand bag.
After calling in at the filling station for fuel, she studied the map briefly, before setting off in the direction of the motorway. In less than an hour, a sign indicating the appropriate turn-off for Southpool came into view. Exiting the motorway at the next junction, the road narrowed forcing her to slow down giving her an opportunity to admire the scenery. Although she was familiar with the County, this was an area she had never visited before. Set amongst the rugged moors and windswept heights of Dartmoor, the South coast of Devon made a spectacular sight. It would make an ideal backdrop for a film, or perhaps it already had, she thought to herself. Still admiring the vista, she almost missed the sign for Southpool and braked sharply. Immediately ahead of her was a large car park where she indicated and turned in. After locking the car, she headed towards the beach. A short distance ahead of her, located along the tree-lined street was a newsagents shop, and she headed in that direction. Feeling obliged to buy something; she picked up a magazine and approached the counter.
“That’ll be fifty five pence please,” the young assistant informed her.
Kate placed a pound coin in the girls’ hand.
“Do you know where I can find Max’s café?” she asked dropping the change into her purse.
“It’s about a mile along the beach. If you cross the road outside and turn left onto the beach, you can’t miss it,” the assistant replied with a smile.
“O.K. thanks.”
Kate strolled leisurely along the beach taking in the scenery and remnants of the sun’s rays. The air around her was infused with the smell of the sea, and she inhaled deeply feeling her entire body relax from the invigorating effect. She could understand why coastal resorts were recommended for convalescing patients in the past. Happy memories of her childhood flooded back as she re-called running bare-foot along the sand, as her mother attempted to keep up with her. Perhaps she might do the same with her own children one day?
Bringing her mind back to the present, her thoughts wandered towards Ben. They had never really discussed having a family, but Kate could not be absolutely certain it was what she wanted. A baby was a life-changing event, and she doubted her ability as a full-time mother. Dismissing all thoughts of motherhood, she paused and glanced around. In the distance, the steep cliffs provided a spectacular view. Birds circled high above the sea diving and squawking in their search for food. The bracing sea breeze stung her face, and she quickened her pace eager to reach her destination. Ahead of her, she could just about make out the outline of a wooden building situated at the top of a small hill away from the beach. Heading towards it, she was uncertain whether it was a café or not, but decided to continue anyway. Her instinct had been right, and a few minutes later she stood outside a small café. A red painted sign indicated she had reached Max’s Café. Contemplating her next course of action, she began to doubt her reasons for visiting the cafe. What exactly did she expect to achieve? Finding no answer, she realised it was futile to go back without a warming drink inside her, and stepped forward to open the door. At the same time her phone rang. Stepping back outside, she rummaged through her bag and retrieved her phone. Ben’s name was flashing across the screen and she answered cautiously.
“Ben, what’s wrong?” she asked anxiously.
“Why should there be anything wrong?” he laughed.
“You don’t usually phone me during the day, that’s why.”
“I don’t think I’ll be able to make it back tonight; I need to go back to the office to pick up some paperwork. It’ll be easier to stay overnight, if you don’t mind?” he asked hesitantly.
“Of course not, what time will you be back tomorrow?” she tried to conceal her disappointment.
“Mid-morning hopefully.”
“O.k. love, I’ll see you then,” she was eager to end the call before he asked where she was. Dropping the phone back into her hand bag, she pushed open the door of the cafe. Instantly she was met with the aroma of fried bacon and grease. Noticing an empty table in the corner of the room, she headed in that direction. The cafe was old-fashioned but very clean. Each table was draped with a white cloth, a variety of condiments, and a menu wedged between the salt and pepper pots. An elderly couple sat at the far end of the café with a pot of tea and a plate of biscuits between them. In front of the window, a young man dressed in filthy work clothes, was reading a newspaper as he awaited his order, which was promptly served by a plump middle-aged woman. After returning to the young man with a mug of tea, she turned her attention to Kate.
“What can I get you dear?” she asked in a thick Devon accent.
“Just a coffee please, with plenty of milk and no sugar.”
“Would you like a slice of home-made cake, or some biscuits with it?”
“No thanks,” Kate smiled.
She returned a few minutes later, and placed the drink before her.
“I’ve not seen you in here before, are you on holiday?” she asked.
“No not really I’m just here for the day. I’m trying to trace some friends of mine. They holidayed here some years ago; I’ve got a photograph of them taken at this café,” she took it from her handbag.
“Do you recognise them?” she asked.
“Let me see,” she wiped her greasy hands on her even greasier apron, took a pair of spectacles from her pocket, and held the photo at arm’s length.
“Mmm, they do look familiar,” she hesitated, “but we get so many people in here it’s hard to be sure. I’ll show it to Max he’s got a better memory than me,” she waddled slowly back towards the counter, then returned shortly with her husband
“I’m Max, do you mind if I sit down?” he asked.
“No, of course not I’m Joan, Joan Harris,” she smiled, amused at her choice of alias.
Picking up the photograph, Max pointed to the man.
“This is Gerry Parish and his wife Anne. I haven’t seen them for years. They used to come here every July for a holiday. They usually stayed at Mrs. Hendry’s Guesthouse. They used to take a walk along the beach every morning before calling in for a coffee. A nice couple with twin daughters, but one of them died and we never saw them again after that. The girl who died was Helen, but I can’t recall her sister’s name,” he rubbed his chin and frowned.
“She was name Claire, Helen and Claire,” Rose reminded him.
“That’s right I remember now,” Max nodded his head.
“You said one of the girls died?” Kate wanted to know the details.
“Yes, and they were such a close family,”
“That’s very sad. How old was she?” Kate asked.
“I’m not very good with ages, she was probably about ten.”
“Was it an accident?” she continued to question him.
“I really don’t know. They only bought the twins on holiday with them on one occasion. It was their time together, Gerry used to say. A relative or friend used to look after the girls when they were down here on their own. Gerry was a quiet man, but he was friendly enough. Anne on the other hand never stopped talking, but she was a nice girl and didn’t deserve to lose one of her daughters.”
“What were they like?” she asked.
“Just ordinary person really, there was nothing special about them. I got the impression that money was a bit tight, but they were always happy,” he looked thoughtf
ul.
“Do you know where they live?”
“Well they used to live in Lincolnshire, but that was eight or nine years ago, they could have moved I suppose.”
“There was talk that they’d split up, and some said Anne had died, but these were just rumours after the daughter died. It was all over the papers at the time because of the circumstances.”
“What do you mean the circumstances?” Kate was curious.
“Well, Gerry was watching the girls while their mother was out shopping. It was in the summer, they were all in the garden and Gerry fell asleep, or so he said. Rumour has it he left them alone. The next thing he knows Claire is shaking him and crying hysterically. Her sister had fallen from a tree in the garden and she couldn’t wake her up. She never regained consciousness and died the next day. Claire said they were having a race to see who could climb up the highest, and because Helen was just above her, she pulled her leg to slow her down; that’s when she fell. So was it an accident, or was it intentional?” he looked up at Kate expecting an answer.
“Surely they didn’t think Claire was responsible?”
“It was never proved. The inquest into her death said it was a tragic accident; and we never saw the family again.” Max handed the photo back to Kate.
“Was that the last time they were here then?”
“Yes; the summer before she died. It must be nine, maybe ten years ago.”
His wife called for his assistance, and he stood up.
“I’d better get back to work now. It’s been nice talking to you Mrs. Harris. If you do find Gerry, tell him Max said hello.”
“I will; and thank you for your time,” she added.
Kate finished her drink and left, leaving a couple of pound coins on the table.
The walk back along the beach seemed longer, and the sun was beginning to set in the late autumn sky making her shiver with cold. Quickening her step, she finally arrived back at the car park grateful to be out of the cold. As she began her journey home, her husband had just arrived back at his office to collect some paperwork.
HIDDEN SECRETS Page 3
