“Okay, well, you know I always said that I reckoned it would all be mine one day? The properties, the business? I stuck with it, worked for him, even though I despised him, because I told myself I was really working for myself, my future?”
Lily nodded, and she whispered a response, “Is this about the will?”
“It is.”
“Has he not left it to you then? Oh, Terry!”
He shook his head as he answered, “It’s not quite that bad. Although in a way it’s worse. He’s left it to me, most of it anyway. There are a couple of places that he has left to friends, their own homes and I guess that’s fair enough. A bit over-generous in a way but…” He shrugged his shoulders.
“But…?” Lily asked.
As they ate he explained about the meeting. How Andrew Stoner had gloated as he had relayed the terms of Terry’s inheritance. How for the next ten years he, the solicitor, would manage a trust that would dictate most of how the business was run.
“But it’s still yours?” Lily was confused by the terms he was using.
“Yes, in name it’s mine. I’ll still have the day-to-day running. The donkey work. Dealing with agents, contractors, all of that. But nothing else. None of the ongoing expansion or development of the business. None of the stuff that he, Clive, used to do. For the next ten years, anything at all to do with that will have to be approved by Andrew bloody Stoner. Even my own flat. If I want to sell that I’ll have to go to him. It wouldn’t have mattered if we’d been on the same page about this stuff, but he’s like Clive was. Stuck in the mud, ticking along. He just wants things to stay the way they’ve always been. No expansion, no new investment – oh, all sorts of ideas I had. Stuff I’ve tried to get Clive to do for years. Now… now the old bugger is dead, I still have to wait. Another ten bloody years before I have control. It’s so unfair, Lily. I’ll be too old by then to do what I want. You have to get this stuff going as soon as you can, build up your money, organise pensions. I just feel like giving up, I just feel like throwing in the towel.”
“Is that why Clive made that call then, after we’d been to see him, is that why he called the solicitor?”
“No. God, no – ha – if only. If it had been, then there was no way they would have time to make it legal. No, this is something they cooked up between themselves ages ago. When Clive started to get better from his stroke. I guess he’d had a glimpse of his own mortality. I was trying to get him to sign things over and, well it just backfired, didn’t it? He wanted to make sure that, even if he wasn’t here, he was still controlling things. The old swine.”
“But, Terry, you can’t give up, what would you do then?”
“I’d just go. I’ve thought about it before, when things have been getting me down. I’d just leave the whole bloody lot and emigrate. Go to America maybe, Australia, somewhere I could make a new start and leave all of this stuff behind.”
“Oh, that would be a terrible shame. Why should you have to do that?”
In response, he shrugged his shoulders huffily.
“Well, what I mean is, you shouldn’t let him win. It’s your right, he owes you. You know that. More than an ordinary grandfather, father – he owes you, Terry. It’s awful to think that he could still win. He mustn’t.”
He smiled at her, it was warmer than before. It seemed that her words had helped. “Oh look, Lily. This isn’t your problem. Don’t let it upset you. I need to think about it all and see what my options are. But quite honestly, right now, I just feel as though I want done with it all.”
“He’s old, Andrew Stoner, isn’t he?”
“Same age as Clive was, yes.”
“Well there we are. Maybe he won’t live another ten years. What happens if he dies?”
“Oh well, I’m not a hundred percent certain, but I’m pretty sure that in that case I get complete control. There were no other conditions, no-one else mentioned. Ha, that’s the answer, perhaps I should push him under a bus or something, eh?”
Chapter 49
Lily was angry. She was furious with Clive. How could he have done this selfish thing to his own son? After everything else, it was a final vicious act that had stolen from Terry the promise of being his own master. It was what had given him hope for a better future. She was livid with Andrew Stoner for going along with it, and selfishly, she was angry that they had spoiled her evening with Terry. In the face of the rest of it this was a minor thing, but the fury was all-encompassing.
Terry had told her not to worry, that he would be working out the best way to deal with it and that, if it was at all possible, he would find a way to change it. He had been preoccupied and edgy, and the evening was a bit of a damp squib; so, it seemed that even now Clive was influencing their lives.
When he had spoken to her about the journey back to Hampshire the next day, she had told him no. She wouldn’t hear of him spending time running her back and forth when there was so much more important work for him to do. There was no denying the look of relief on his face.
It was tempting to stay here, in Bath, but she had work of her own to do. She must change her will; Charlotte Mary’s cousin was no longer the right option. She would leave him something, a small bequest out of respect for his past kindness. It was obvious that everything else must be left for Terry. After all, he was Peter’s brother, and the closest thing that she would ever have to a son.
After their meal, he had walked with her to the hotel, seen her safely inside and promised to ring her the next day if there were any major developments.
“I wonder about coming to his funeral?”
“Clive’s?” Terry had frowned. “Why would you want to do that?”
“Support, you need support at that sort of thing.”
“No, really there’s no need. I’ve got a couple of mates who have already said they’ll come. Not because they liked him or anything but, well yes, as you say just so there’s somebody there for me. But it’s alright, I’ve got it covered. I don’t know yet how many people there’ll be. He had all his cronies, his Lodge brothers and what not, but I’m leaving it all to Stoner. It’s a kind thought but it’s not worth it. I’m not intending to go to the gathering afterwards, I’ll get out of that. I’m not spending time with that crowd. Thanks though.”
However, Lily was still determined to go, to see the final act. She’d let him know when she was already there. She had the name of the funeral directors. It would be easy to find out the day and time of the ceremony.
She watched him walk through the carpark towards the river. Soon she expected that he was going to ask again about Peter, and she had to decide how to handle that. She could go along with the pretence, let him put Charlotte Mary’s ashes with Carol Robertson, believing they were Peter’s remains, and then there would be nothing left to say. He would go back to his own life and she would be left alone with everything still unresolved – Peter still in the cold cellar. She would have failed.
It was hard to sleep. Here was a whole new set of problems. She remembered the night at The Grange, it caused her stomach to turn. Andrew Stoner was no weak, old victim, but a man who was doubtless stronger than she, with all his faculties. She had already proved that she was capable of things far beyond anything imaginable, but that wasn’t an option this time. For this situation, she needed a new idea. A different tack.
One way or another, the blight of Andrew Stoner must be removed from Terry’s future.
She gathered together thoughts of what she knew and let the ideas play out in her mind. The two men had been friends for a long time and Clive had called Stoner the day before his death. The old solicitor must know about the past. If he knew about Terry, about the other baby, her Peter, then what else was he aware of?
In recent cases of child abuse, the nets had been cast wide and drawn in unimaginable numbers of criminals. Could it be that both Stoner and Clive Robertson had been involved in the filthy business with a circle of others? Why had he left expensive property to friends? Even the kin
dest, most altruistic person would think twice about such bequests, especially if they formed part of a greater whole.
She became convinced that Clive had been involved in the worst of all cruelty, not only with his own family but others besides. It seemed to her more than likely that he had not acted alone and Andrew Stoner could be the thin edge of a much greater wedge. She had never imagined that she would be involved in this dirty business, but acknowledged that in a way Peter had brought her to this, and she was not going to let him down again.
As the road outside began to stir with the earliest of the traffic and the sun sent a gentle glow into the mists cloaking the hills around the city, Lily rolled over and fell asleep.
The next morning, she phoned to arrange an appointment with the solicitor.
The answering machine promised that they would get back to her as soon as possible, assured her that she was important to them. She left a message, a little arrogant, rather pre-emptive. She told them she would be back in Bath on Monday afternoon and her time was limited. She wanted to deal only with Andrew Stoner. He had been recommended to her, and she was considering instructing him to deal with her recently deceased partner’s extensive holdings.
She left them her address and mobile number. She must be convincing, and if they were moved to check the few facts, she had said nothing untrue.
She considered waiting out the weekend in the hotel, but if she were to bump into Terry it would be very difficult to explain and she couldn’t sit in the room for two days. In any case, there was work for her to do in Southsea.
Before she left, she walked into town. She bought a new outfit, something exclusive, something more like the sort of thing Charlotte Mary would have had, and she added some new shoes – the first for years. It was all a part of the plan which was becoming ever clearer in her mind.
* * *
Lily went home, rested and waited for Monday. She wrote her letter, organised the train ticket, and sorted through Charlotte Mary’s jewellery. The large Sapphire ring was a little gaudy for daywear, but it was a statement piece and she would also wear the earrings. She dressed in her new outfit, gazed at herself in the mirror and was satisfied.
She had lost a little weight and looked even older than her age now, but her thinner figure was smarter. She had become a pastiche of her mother and Charlotte Mary. Of the dumpy, frowsy Lily of more recent years, there was little trace. It made her smile. In the back of the wardrobe was a walking stick. It was one that her father had carried, dark shiny wood and a silver handle. It was a little long for her but manageable. It was the finishing touch. Yes, a dowager with a stick and rather more money than she needed. A new Lily.
Chapter 50
The call from the solicitors came while Lily was on the train. The appointment they offered was in the early afternoon. Her nerves were jumping, but she managed to keep her voice firm and controlled.
Apart from one pass along the street where the offices were located, she kept away. The character that she was about to play wouldn’t wander back and forth. She would turn up in time for her appointment, and so she did.
She was offered coffee by a secretary behind a workstation in the dull waiting room that she declined with a small smile.
As she entered his office leaning heavily on the cane, Andrew Stoner walked out from behind the desk to hold the chair. She took her seat, placing her bag and the small document case on the floor beside her.
“Have you been offered coffee, tea?”
“I was, thank you, and I think that now maybe a cup of tea would be nice.”
He pressed a button on his intercom, ordered two cups of tea.
“So, Mrs, erm… Bowers? I believe our name was passed along to you?”
“It’s Miss, Miss Lily Bowers. Yes, indeed. I heard about you, specifically you, in dealings with Clive Robertson. I believe he is a friend?”
The shock on the solicitor’s face was quickly hidden and he managed a question, “Did you know him well?”
“Not terribly well, no. Actually, it was my partner who had dealings with him.”
“Ah. Well, I’m afraid Clive is no longer with us.”
She lowered her brow, tipped her head. “I knew that he was ill.”
Stoner coughed. “I’m afraid Mr Robertson, Clive, died last week. It was quite sudden. He did seem to be improving, but then…” Stoner shrugged. “I suppose these things happen. It was a shock. We had been friends for a long time.” He had taken out his handkerchief to blow his nose. She was surprised to see such visible grief.
“So, you were close?”
The solicitor nodded, and then turned as his assistant knocked and carried a tray into the room. There was a hiatus while cups were moved, sugar and biscuits offered, napkins passed, by which time Andrew Stoner had regained his composure. “So, your own partner has recently passed?”
In response, Lily simply inclined her head.
“You weren’t married?”
“No. We never felt the need.”
“And from what I understand, he had various holdings that you have inherited.”
“She.”
“I’m sorry?”
“My partner’s name was Charlotte Mary Stone.”
“Ah I see, a business partner.” He smiled and lifted his cup to cover his moment of confusion.
“No, indeed.” Lily was enjoying this little back and forth. She watched silently as he re-gathered his thoughts and struggled to find a suitable expression.
“I am sorry for your loss.”
She had to bite back a smile as he reverted to the overused phrase. Again, she rewarded him with a small nod, and allowed a sigh.
He obviously decided that the best idea was to move on with the business at hand.
“How do you think we will be able to help you? We offer investment advice, property management services, will-writing services, of course. Erm…”
Lily bent and lifted the document case onto her lap. She slid her hand inside and pulled out the small brown paper bag.
“My reason for coming to see you is possibly quite unusual. Some years ago, my partner made a purchase. I suppose it would be true to call it an investment.”
Andrew Stoner was frowning. He peered across his desk at the scruffy little bag in her hand, and then raised his eyes to hers. He had no idea the way this was going, but she imagined he was wondering if this was all a waste of his time.
Lily leaned forward and tipped the contents of the bag onto the leather blotter.
Stoner glanced at her, frowned. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand. What are these?” He poked at the sad little collection of items.
Lily half stood and picked up the flimsy blue card. She turned it in her hand until the writing was visible on the top, picked up the receipt, then placed the two together into his outstretched hand.
She knew immediately that she had him. It was clear by the way his colour changed, leaving him grey and drawn. He glanced across at her. Grunted, and then discarded the papers with a flick. “What on earth is this? What are these things? I am not sure I understand exactly what is going on here, Miss Bowers. How can I help you with… with these?” He pointed at the desktop and Lily was delighted by the quiver in the blunt-ended fingers.
He was panicked and falling apart in front of her eyes. It was better than she could have hoped for. Her nerves settled and she felt confidence flood her body. “Well, now. I can tell you exactly how you can help me. As for what’s going on, I think you know only too well.”
Chapter 51
“I see from your face, from your eyes, that you know just what these mean.” As she gathered the papers and baby bracelet, and replaced them in the paper bag, Lily spoke softly. Inside, her heart thundered, she felt the burn in her throat, but she had to control it. If she was forced to take out the medical spray, she would lose the upper hand.
She took a moment, covered the pause by taking another sip of tea. She managed a cold smile when she raised her head, and looked
back at him, across his great desk.
“Charlotte Mary conspired with Clive Robertson. Between them they conceived a dreadful deal. It was illegal certainly, and it was also immoral and desperately cruel. You know this, of course. Your friend was a terrible person, as are you, Mr Stoner. You and others. I’ll be honest, I don’t know the names of all of them, not yet, but no matter, that won’t be my responsibility. What I do know is that terrible evil was conducted between you all. Under cover of respectability. Using power and privilege, threats and bullying, you stole lives and ruined futures.”
She was guessing most of it, putting together a situation that was mostly imagination, and she was painfully aware that she mustn’t go too far. While he sat silently gaping at her across the expanse of polished wood, she assumed that she was not far from the truth. She must stop before she gave herself away. She waved a hand in the air. “Oh, you know already, I won’t sully my mouth with it all. Except to say that I am ready and very willing to turn everything I know, everything I have, over to the police.”
“So, why haven’t you?” He was recovering, slowly, and he spoke carefully. She had to hold the advantage.
“Because, in spite of the wicked thing she did, I loved my partner. But now she’s dead and it can’t hurt her. She has no family left to speak of, no-one to worry about her reputation, so here we are. But there is more.”
He didn’t speak. She waited, gave him a chance to ask the question, and when he didn’t, she was forced to carry on. She touched the brown bag, slid it a little way across the desk.
“This child. This sweet little boy had a brother. Ah, I see you know just who I mean. Tracing our son’s family…” She wanted him to believe that Peter was still alive, that she could present to the world a young man who had been treated as a commodity. She went on, “I have come to know Terry. He is a fine young person. I know I don’t have to tell you the struggles he has had, the terrible things that he has overcome. I have become very fond of him. And now, I find that you and his, well, his what? What shall we call him? I think we’ll stick to Clive, because the other titles are too good for him. Yes, Clive. Between you, you have concocted an arrangement that will rob him of even more than he has lost already.”
BONE BABY: chilling emotional suspense with a killer ending Page 17
