by Wendy Steele
“No and Jess doesn’t like him. He’s really young, not much older than Sam. Tch, children having children!”
Lizzie smiled. Rowan seemed to have the handle on the pros and cons of extended families and she found babies hard work and stressful. Cool.
“Jess is welcome, of course she is, but give me notice for catering.”
“’Course I will. Anyway, Jess cooks loads and is going to teach me some stuff, if that’s okay?”
Don’t say, I tried to teach you but you didn’t want to know. “Great! Let me know if you need different ingredients.”
“We can always bus into town and get stuff.”
“Thanks.”
“I wish I’d met Granddad. You got any pictures of him?”
“I’ve a couple of albums and videos and some rolls of cine film that didn’t make it onto video.”
“You’ve got videos? Can we watch some now?”
“It’s getting late.”
Rowan shook her head. “Lame excuse. Real reason please.”
“I’m frightened to look at them in case I start crying and can’t stop.”
They lay on Lizzie’s bed in pyjama bottoms and vest tops, Lizzie trying desperately not to show her surprise at the rapid growth of Rowan’s chest. The 34C bras she bought her in May were not going to be suitable for much longer. The scratched silver TV, balanced on the blanket box at the end of Lizzie’s bed, gave them access to the video tapes her father had reproduced from cine film, before he died. Lizzie rarely used the TV but had kept it to play these tapes one day and those of baby Rowan from fourteen years ago.
“Your face is completely round! Look at your chubby knees!” laughed Rowan.
“That fairy dress was bright candy pink.”
“With your hair! Oh, I can see you loved it though. You look so sweet. Who’s that?”
“That’s Granddad.”
“Wow, he looks really young and quite like you. Who’s that boy?”
“Simon, your Granny’s sister’s boy. He died very young. I don’t remember him.”
“That’s sad. Do you know what of?”
Lizzie shook her head. “You think I should ask Granny?”
“Maybe not. Who’s that? Was it a birthday or something?”
“I don’t think so, well not mine, obviously. No wait, look Simon’s going up to the table.”
“Is there sound?”
“A bit. A lot was lost on the transfer.” Lizzie turned up the sound on the remote control. Strains of happy birthday, muffled and faint, trickled through the speakers.
“So that must be Aunt Eleanor, Simon’s mother. She’s a wisp of a thing, compared to Granny.”
“Shame it’s not colour.”
“It was over thirty years ago.”
“Wow, Mum. Aren’t you old?”
Lizzie thumped Rowan with a pillow and the pillow fight began. It ended with Lizzie rolling off the bed, feeling dizzy and rather sick.
“Stay! I’m getting you water and a cold compress. I mean it!”
Lizzie wrapped the soaked tea towel around her head, cooling her down and soaking her top. Rowan helped her onto the bed. On the TV screen a chubby little girl in a fairy dress blew kisses to the camera. Lizzie pressed stop.
“It’s getting late. We both have to get up in the morning.”
“But I’ve two weeks school then six whole weeks off!”
Lizzie put her arm around Rowan’s shoulders and hugged her. “See how lucky you are.”
13
Lizzie did her best to avoid Edward Brown but on Wednesday the following week, a young shiny suited man who undressed her with his eyes, insisted she take him to Edward’s office immediately.“I’m terribly sorry, Mr…?”
“Blakeman, Marcus Blakeman. I need to get Ed’s handle on this situation, like now!”
He stepped towards the main office door but she was too quick for him and stood smiling, blocking the door as she waited for Suzanne to pick up the phone, receiver in her hand.
“Can you bring him through, Liz? I’m swamped here. Get Shelley on reception for five minutes.”
“Sure.”
Lizzie walked ahead of Marcus Blakeman, aware his eyes were fixed on her behind. His aftershave, even at that distance, besieged her sense of smell and she was glad to hand him over to Suzanne as her eyes began to water.
“Hey, hello! And who might you be?”
“Suzanne Marshall, personal assistant to David Brown and acting head secretary for the interim to Edward Brown and you are?”
“I’m Marcus and you, little Suzy, are the person I’ve been looking for.”
Edward Brown burst from his office.
“Get in here, Blakeman! Stop annoying my staff. Suzanne, two teas. Lizzie, what the hell are you wearing?”
The ground never opened up and swallowed you when you wanted it to. In front of Edward Brown, Lizzie often wished it did, or better still beneath him, speeding him down a long tunnel, back to where he came from.
“It’s a suit, a trouser suit.” Without thinking, she opened her arms and turned around, her sleeves spreading like sails, the billowing swathes of the short jacket bunching around her waist and the flared trousers below her knees, sweeping the ground.
“And very nice your backside looks in it too.”
“Blakeman, in here! Lizzie, I will see you tomorrow morning in appropriate attire, do you hear me?”
Lizzie and Louise met up in the wine bar for what had become a regular catch up in the week.
“Met your fella last night.”
“My what?”
“Your fella, Richard.”
“Richard is my daughter’s friend’s Dad, not my ‘fella’. Did he say he was?”
“Oh no! He came in to book up bowling as he was passing and stopped to watch. I recognised him from the hospital. We must have passed coming to visit you. He’s a nice man.”
“As opposed to Matt who hasn’t even bothered to text me to see if I’m alive?”
“That’s musicians for you.”
“He works in an office.”
“Richard said he might join the club. He’s always been a solitary sportsman in the past, ran a couple of half marathons last year, but he fancied a team sport for a change.”
“You know more about him than I do!”
“Sad about his wife. I knew right off he was a widower.”
“Who’s the weirdo now?”
Louise wafted her wine glass. “I’m good with people, that’s all. There’s something wrong with Tania, you mark my words and Suz is struggling but that could be the new boss man.”
“And you sensed all this?”
“Everyone chats for a few moments on the door. They didn’t tell me anything but I could tell when they spoke.”
Lizzie smiled into her drink.
“What?”
“You’re a witch.”
“No way! When did you know you were?”
“From when I was fourteen, I guess. My Dad died, life was never the same again.”
“Sorry, Liz, I didn’t know. So how do you become a witch? Is there some initiation or something?”
“Depends what sort of witch you’re going to be. I loved fairies. At first the fluffy kind. As I grew older, I walked in the woods or round the park, sensing the spirit, the energies of the trees and flowers, animals and birds. Later, I encountered larger entities.”
“I don’t know what that means.”
“For me, they are gods, goddesses and elementals, immense energies and masses of our universe that we have personified. The goddess of the moon keeps me safe at night while her counterpart, the god, takes care of me during the day. This knowledge has kept me safe, and sane, since I was fourteen years old.”
“And what do you call them?”
“In a non-ritual context, I see them as Isis and Osiris. That’s why I shouldn’t be surprised at Rowan’s love of all things Egyptian. I do work in a ritual sense with Isis sometimes, but I work better with the deities of Britain. I f
eel closer to them somehow.”
“Wow.”
Lizzie blushed. “Sorry for going on.”
“No, I can feel your passion, your belief and how it keeps you strong. I’m impressed. Doesn’t mean I believe in any of it but I can see what it does for you.”
“Religion is there to help humanity make sense of the world and their place in it. Paganism makes sense to me. When I needed comfort and reassurance, paganism was there. Having said that, it’s not a religion to me. It’s a way of life.”
“So how should I begin to get closer to my witchy side?”
Lizzie laughed. “The moon goddess is a good one to start with.”
“Which one?”
“Anyone you like!”
“But I don’t know any names, except Isis because you said it.”
“On a full moon, sit in the garden and call to the moon to listen. Share with her and talk to her. Don’t force it, just breathe. The rhythms of our bodies are akin to the seasons, the tides and, therefore, the moon.”
“I’ll give it a go but what about the seasons stuff? It’s not easy to notice much more than the weather when you’re surrounded by concrete, though I suppose the leaves on the trees change colour.”
“I found a book in the library about the Wheel of the Year. Nature is important to me. Trees the most. After Dad died, I turned to the rowan tree in the garden. Mum’s cut it down now.”
Louise shook her head. “That woman’s done a grand job of denying you support and love.”
Lizzie sighed. “She has but I’m not handling it properly.”
“You’ve had a lot to deal with. Don’t beat yourself up.”
“No, I need a change of mind. I tried playing her game, saying what came into my head and flouting blackmail as a way to get control back. It doesn’t work.”
“But you know what does?”
“Forgiveness.”
“Whoa, that’s a tough one.”
“Give me time.”
The bar was busy though it was early on a Friday evening.
“This is my second night in a pub this week!”
“You’re not drinking though?”
Lizzie shook her head. “I don’t fancy it, so what’s the point? I met Louise here after work Wednesday. She says you caught up with her at the bowling alley?”
Richard’s teal coloured shirt tinted his eyes bright indigo. Over better-fitting jeans, he looked smart and she watched his thinking process scurry across his face, smiling at the blush her attention caused.
“Louise? Oh yes, black bob, blue eyes, nice lady. Terry her husband seemed keen to recruit me for the team.”
“They love their bowling, especially Terry.”
“Not your cup of tea?”
“Honestly, I enjoyed the other night, the four of us but it’s not cheap. Something would have to go if Rowan and I were going to bowl regularly so, I haven’t wanted to start. Am I depriving my daughter? Am I a bad mother?”
“I hope you’re joking! Of course, you’re not! You’re teaching her you can’t have or do everything. Sam has a lot, I know but I do say no, often.”
“And of course, I may not have a job in a few weeks’ time unless I get my head around this dress code business.”
“Do you want to eat and talk? I’m starving. My treat.”
“You treat me all the time, Richard. I worry about that.”
“We’re friends. Look, you know how happy I am that Sam has Rowan as a friend and when we all get together, especially at your house, it’s always fun. I miss the family thing. It’s hard with only two of us.”
“Okay but you mentioned having a barbeque so why don’t Rowan and I look into catering an all veggie barbeque at yours?”
“You’re on. When would be good?”
“Do you have space in your garden for a fire?”
“Sure, there’s a fire pit at the bottom. Sam and some of the lads have used it. Why?”
“Let’s pick a day on or near 1st August.”
“Okay, I’m intrigued.”
“Look up Lughnasadh or Lammas on the internet. Shall we eat?”
The Indian restaurant was busy but not full. With a jug of water on its way, Lizzie perused the menu.
“Fancy going veggie tonight? We’ve come here for my birthday in the past and I know the veggie food is good. Rowan and I usually order half a dozen sides and have a bit of everything.”
“Great, as long as you order. I wouldn’t know where to start.”
Lizzie beckoned the waiter and recounted her list. The waiter, slim, dark and smiling offered her a taste of a new vegetarian dish they had on the menu.
“One of our chefs is new, from a different part of India. You will enjoy.”
She nodded her appreciation and sat back with her water. She was getting used to her new haircut and in her own clothes, her armour was almost intact. Not that she worried around Richard.
“So you booked a lane for bowling?”
“I booked a couple for the afternoon the kids break up. It’s a gift for Sam and Rowan. They can bring two friends each. They’ve both worked hard at school. I told Sam before I left. Feel free to tell Rowan but I’m sure he will have called her.”
“That’s a lovely idea. You’re a kind man.”
Richard blushed and fussed with his napkin on his lap. Poppadoms and chutneys arrived at the table. Lizzie learned Richard had never tried spicy food, preferring to stick to mild sauces to avoid embarrassment if he couldn’t eat a hot one.
“That’s a bit wimpy.”
“More than a bit! But I saw you using spices in the Bolognaise and it was delicious so I’m aware I’ve been missing out. Eilidh cooked plain food, you know, meat, potatoes and veg and my mother was the same. Sam’s more adventurous and now I’m being sucked into trying new things.”
“Variety is the spice of life and all that?”
“Yes, definitely. I’m not sure bowling is for me either, Liz but it was kind of Terry to invite me.”
The hot plates arrived, closely followed by the food and Lizzie smiled at the amazement on Richard’s face as steaming, colourful dishes decorated their table. He put a spoonful of each on his plate with rice and naan bread.
Lizzie scooped two large spoons of each and ripped off a hunk of naan bread. “Louise thought you were my ‘fella’.”
Richard grabbed his napkin as he choked. Lizzie passed him a glass of water.
“Sorry about that. Lizzie, I didn’t say that.”
“I know, don’t worry but if you’re interested, she thought you were charming.”
“That’s kind.”
“I assured her we were friends.”
“Good.”
Richard enjoyed every dish on his plate and helped himself to more. The tiny bowl that had arrived with compliments from the waiter was fiery but tasty and Lizzie loved it. She cleared her plate, mopping up with her bread and sat back, rubbing her belly. Richard forked in his final mouthful and did the same.
“Lizzie, can I say something?”
“Sure.”
“Can I say it all before you shout at me?”
“Oh, that kind of saying. If you must.”
Richard laughed. “It’s not like that. Firstly, I did recognise the man in the hospital, your friend Matt but I had to be sure.”
“You’ve met him before?”
“No, he doesn’t know me personally, which is a good thing but what you don’t know, is Edward Brown, your new boss, is his father.”
“What? But he…what?”
“I’ll give you some background so you’ll understand. This is strictly confidential, by the way and I’ll keep some of it vague, if you don’t mind. You need to know but you’ll still be cross with me.”
“Try me.”
“Almost ten years ago, my colleagues and I infiltrated a gang in London and found out about a new ‘firm’ on the block. Drugs were involved and human trafficking but also white collar fraud.”
“Like what?”
“Money laundering and insurance fraud, in this case.”
“Go on.”
“We followed the leads, waded through the minnows and the pikes and came to Edward Brown.”
“But he’s a lawyer!”
“So much harder to pin down. The law firm was all legit, by the way but he used other companies to wash his dirty laundry.”
“How? What does a company get in return for agreeing to break the law?”
“Financial gain, representation I expect if something did go pear-shaped but of the three companies we know about, he had some sort of lever.”
“Blackmail?”
The waiter took their plates, offering to box up the left overs which Lizzie thanked him for. She enthused over the new dish, expressing that if it was on the menu, she would order it but maybe it could lose a tiny bit of the heat. The waiter smiled and thanked her for her recommendation. They ordered coffee.
“Yes, blackmail and that’s where your boy comes in.”
“He is not my boy!”
“Sorry, couldn’t resist. Matthew Brown works for his father.”
“He knew his Dad was my boss!”
“So why didn’t he tell you?”
“I don’t know!”
“Where did you meet?”
“Hang on, he asked me something about the staff when…wait, he’s asked me a few times, whether anyone has had a warning or disciplinary. He knew I hadn’t…it wasn’t a chance meeting in the park, was it?”
Richard shook his head. “For some reason, Matt targeted you. How did you get the job, by the way?”
“The usual way, I suppose. Moving house, I was looking for something I could bus to and I saw the job in the newspaper.”
“Where did you work before?”
“A law firm in Brentwood.”
“Wyatt, Hughes and Lane?”
“Yes!”
“Seems Edward Brown wants to keep you close, somewhere he can keep an eye on you, for some reason. His daughter-in-law, Rhianna Wyatt heads up the firm, wife of Matt’s older brother, Francis.”
“But why me? How long have you known all this?”
“Are you very cross with me? I knew you worked for Edward Brown but couldn’t exactly tell you how I knew him as it was police business.”
“You’re telling me now!”
“Not everything, I can’t, but I’ve told you because I wondered if you would help me with the investigation?”
