by Anne Mather
‘Leaving the back door unlocked?’ Laura arched her brows disbelievingly. ‘I don’t think so.’
‘Then what’s your solution?’
She shook her head. ‘I don’t have one.’
‘Good. Nor do I.’ Oliver gestured towards the door into the hall. ‘Let’s find Ma.’
‘If she’s here,’ said Laura tightly, and Oliver gave her a retiring look.
‘She’s here,’ he said, and somehow he knew that she was. Though why he was so sure, he didn’t care to think.
The hall, too, offered no answers as to the whereabouts of the occupants of the house, and Oliver disliked the decidedly ominous feeling he was getting. Where the hell were they? he wondered impatiently. And why the devil didn’t he just call his mother’s name and let her tell him where she was?
There was no one in the dining room, the drawing room, or the library, but there was a light on in the study, and Oliver approached it with a feeling of apprehension. So far he’d seen no evidence of the break-in and he had the uneasy feeling that he was about to find out why. Laura was behind him as he pushed open the door and he sensed she was apprehensive, too, but once again the room was empty.
The picture which covered the door of the safe was in place, and Oliver swore. ‘Dammit!’ he exclaimed, stepping back into the hall and looking up the stairs. ‘Is everyone in bed?’
Laura’s lips parted. ‘Are you sure it was Aunt Nell who phoned you last night?’ she asked in a doubtful voice. ‘I can’t see that anything has been—’
‘Disturbed?’ Oliver’s lips twisted. ‘Yeah, I know. But it was Nell. I spoke to her this morning and she confirmed it.’
‘So...’ Laura shrugged. ‘What should we do?’
‘Find Ma,’ said Oliver flatly, and without any more hesitation he started up the stairs.
Laura followed him. Even without looking, he was aware of her presence behind him, and the urge to tell her to stay downstairs was almost overwhelming. He didn’t know what he was going to find, but something told him it wasn’t going to be good.
But before they could reach the top of the stairs they heard voices. A man’s voice at first, and then a woman’s. Stella’s.
‘I tell you I did hear something,’ the man insisted, and Oliver came to an abrupt halt.
‘You’re imagining things, Jaz.’
Stella sounded drowsy, and Oliver’s heart skipped a beat.
‘I don’t think so. I heard voices,’ the man asserted, and the increasing volume of his voice indicated that he had come out of the room. ‘After what happened with Griff, we don’t want to risk getting caught again. God, Stell, it could be that old woman. Perhaps she’s brought someone back with her.’
Oliver didn’t look at Laura but he knew exactly how she must be feeling and he uttered an inward groan for the death of his own hopes and expectations. Despite what had happened on the way here, he knew she wasn’t indifferent to him, but after this... He closed his eyes for a moment in utter despair. She was never going to listen to him now.
‘Nell’s in Cardiff, I tell you.’
Stella had evidently come to join the man and Oliver heard the sound of their footsteps approaching along the corridor that led from his mother’s room. There was a moment when he considered going back down the stairs before they reached the landing and discovered him, but although he knew Laura wouldn’t have stopped him he couldn’t do it. He was fairly sure it was for this reason that Nell had brought them here, and while she couldn’t have been sure that they’d come together she must have had a fairly good idea that they would.
‘D’you want to leave this to me?’ he asked in a low voice, but Laura was staring white-faced down into the hall and he wasn’t sure that she’d even heard him. ‘Laura,’ he whispered, lifting a hand and touching her cheek, wondering if this would be the last time he’d ever lay a hand on her, and he felt the effort it took for her to turn her head and look at him.
‘Daddy,’ she breathed, through dry lips. A wavering finger pointed towards her father’s study. ‘I—I saw Daddy. He was there.’ She swallowed. ‘In the doorway. Do you think he turned on the light?’
The hairs rose on the back of Oliver’s neck, and although his common sense was telling him that she couldn’t possibly have seen her father something had evidently drained every scrap of colour from her face.
‘I—Laura—’ he began helplessly, and then his mother started to scream. The shrill sound was enough to banish any intruder, ghostly or otherwise, and he saw, with some relief, that Laura, too, was distracted by the sound.
‘God!’ It was the man, Jaz, who spoke first, and Oliver could even find it in his heart to feel sorry for him. Confronting his—what? Lover’s?—son in only a pair of cotton boxers, while she shrieked like a banshee beside him, must be humiliating to say the least. ‘I knew I’d heard something. Oh, hell—Stell, stop that horrible caterwauling, for God’s sake.’
‘Laura—Laura said she saw Griff,’ she stammered, gathering a satin wrap around her, trying to get a hold on herself. ‘In—in the doorway of the study. Oh, God, Jaz, do you think he was there?’
‘Of course not.’ Jaz gazed at her with impatient eyes. ‘She’s upset, that’s all.’ He grimaced. ‘And who can blame her? I told you it was too soon to—to—’
‘To what?’ broke in Oliver coldly. ‘To continue with your affair? God, Ma, you disgust me! And to think I believed that you were sincere.’
Stella pouted. ‘What are you two doing here anyway?’ She came down the stairs towards them. ‘Don’t be angry, Oliver. I’ve always needed affection, you know that.’
‘Affection?’ Oliver scoffed. ‘This isn’t affection!’
‘Oh, and you’d know, of course.’ His mother soon recovered her self-possession. ‘You’re so pure and untainted by sexual lusts yourself.’
‘I’m disgusted because you were obviously conducting this affair right under Griff’s nose,’ snarled Oliver. ‘I heard what your boyfriend said just now. You were here the afternoon Griff came back from hunting. He must have found you together. Was that why he had his heart attack?’
‘No! No!’ Stella was horrified. ‘It wasn’t like that.’
‘What was it like, then?’ Laura intervened, and Stella blinked rapidly before focussing on the younger woman. ‘You phoned—him—’ she indicated the older man ‘—the same night after you’d sworn you weren’t fit enough to attend Daddy’s funeral.’
Stella was taken aback. ‘How do you know that?’
‘She was there,’ said Oliver flatly. ‘Go on. I’m waiting to hear what happened the afternoon Griff died.’
Stella shook her head, clearly puzzled as to how Laura could have heard her call, but her son’s expression forced her to continue. ‘I—’ She looked at her companion. ‘I’m not sure what happened.’
‘Oh, come on.’ Oliver could feel his control slipping. ‘You’re not going to pretend that Griff didn’t see you?’
‘I don’t know what he saw,’ muttered Stella, wrapping her arms around herself.
‘But he must have seen you,’ said Laura unsteadily, and Jaz seemed to take pity on her.
‘I heard something,’ he admitted reluctantly. ‘I told Stell we should have checked it out, but she said I was only imagining it.’ He shrugged. ‘She was obviously wrong.’
‘We were wrong,’ put in Stella, evidently not prepared to shoulder all the blame. She turned to her son. ‘I tried to tell you how it was before the funeral. I’m a passionate woman, Oliver. I need—love.’
‘What you need is sex,’ Laura said tremulously, before Oliver could respond. ‘Don’t pretend Daddy didn’t love you. He did. I only wish he’d never set eyes on you.’
‘That’s enough!’ Stella was furious now. ‘Don’t you dare to talk to me in that holier-than-thou tone, because it won’t wash, young lady.’ A trembling finger was pointed at Laura. ‘I know too much about you. I always have. That was why you took every chance you could to tell tales about me to
your father; why you poisoned Griff’s mind against me—’
‘That’s not true!’ Laura’s voice was trembling, but Stella didn’t seem to care.
‘How do you think your precious father would have felt if he’d known what you were really like?’ she demanded contemptuously. ‘He thought you were such a good little girl. That butter wouldn’t melt in your mouth.’
‘For God’s sake, Ma—’
‘No, why shouldn’t I defend myself?’ Stella exclaimed, shaking off her son’s attempt to restrain her. ‘She was eager enough to tell me what she thought of me.’
‘For pity’s sake, Stella—’
Jaz appealed to her, but she ignored him. ‘I’ve waited a long time to say this, Oliver,’ she declared. ‘I won’t let her get away with it.’
‘This isn’t going to change anything, Ma—’
‘Isn’t it? Isn’t it?’ She held up her head. ‘You don’t know the half of it. You don’t know why she really came to your room, what she’d planned—’
‘Planned?’ Oliver was frankly scathing. ‘For God’s sake, Ma, stop while you’ve still got a shred of decency left.’
‘You don’t understand.’ Swallowing convulsively, Stella pressed a trembling hand to his chest. ‘You think I’m just making these things up to defend myself, but it’s not true. She wanted you, Oliver, and she was prepared to do anything to get you.’
‘No—’
Laura’s cry almost went unnoticed, but Oliver had heard it, and, putting his hands on his mother’s shoulders, he said flatly, ‘Let’s leave Laura out of this, shall we? I know you’ve never liked her. You’ve made that plain enough, God knows.’ He glanced at Laura’s white face. ‘But it’s been fourteen years since that night. We’ve got over it. We’ve moved on—’
‘She hasn’t.’ Stella turned to point at her stepdaughter once again. ‘She still hates me. She always has.’
Oliver groaned. ‘You’re not going to get away with this, Ma.’ He took a deep breath. ‘Now, I think we’ve established that Griff saw or heard—something when he got back that afternoon. I assume that accounts for the fact that it was two hours before you found—found him?’
‘That’s right.’ Jaz nodded. ‘Stell was nearly frantic when she found the body. But it was too late. There was nothing we could do.’
‘Except hide what had really happened,’ said Oliver bitterly. ‘My God, Ma, how could you live with yourself?’
‘Don’t preach to me about living with myself,’ retorted his mother savagely. ‘At least I’ve never had to get myself pregnant to try and hold on to a man.’
There was absolute silence after this revelation. Even the house was still, as if even inanimate objects sensed that any sound would be a desecration. Oliver didn’t move. He couldn’t. For a few moments the actual portent of his mother’s words had him stunned and frozen to the spot.
Then, with an anguished sound, Laura broke the death-like stillness. Whirling, she turned and ran back down the stairs, and as Oliver watched her go so many things suddenly made sense to him. God, he thought, his brain stumbling slowly back into gear. She had been pregnant when he went away. She had been expecting his baby, and he’d known nothing about it.
But before he could go after her Stella seemed to realise she’d made a fatal mistake. In her efforts to discredit Laura, she had inadvertently told her son something that it was not in her best interests to reveal.
‘Oh, Oliver,’ she said, reaching for his arm. ‘I’m so sorry. You were never meant to hear about this. Especially not from me.’
Oliver shook her off, dragging his eyes away from the stairs down which Laura had just vanished with an effort. ‘What?’
‘The fact that she was pregnant,’ Stella prompted him urgently. ‘That’s what she’d intended all along. Don’t you see? It was her way of getting back at me—at both of us—for my marrying her father. Thank heavens nothing came of it. It would have ruined your life—all our lives.’
Oliver stared at her disbelievingly. ‘You’re crazy!’ He blinked. ‘And what did you mean? Nothing came of it?’ His blood chilled. ‘Did she have the child?’
‘Of course not.’ Stella was impatient.
‘So she—what? Miscarried?’ Right now, Oliver didn’t know which was worse.
‘Yes, she lost it,’ said his mother irritably. ‘Honestly, Oliver, I would have thought—’
‘That’s the trouble,’ said Oliver heavily. ‘You don’t think. You never have.’
‘The safe’s been opened.’
Laura spoke from the foot of the stairs, successfully putting an end to their discussion, and Stella started to protest behind him.
‘How does she know?’ she cried, but Oliver wasn’t listening to her.
‘I’m coming,’ he said instead, and hurried down the stairs to where Laura was waiting. ‘Perhaps there has been a robbery, after all.’
‘A robbery?’
His mother hurried after him, and he wondered if she was as much in the dark as he was himself. ‘The break-in,’ he said, as he reached Laura. ‘Aunt Nell phoned me last night. She said someone had attempted to break in.’
Stella’s eyes flashed. ‘There was no break-in!’ she exclaimed, but she was forced to follow her son and her stepdaughter across the hall and into the study, however unwilling she might have been. She stared mutinously at the open safe that Laura must have found when she’d removed the picture. ‘If Nell told you there was a break-in, she was trying to cause trouble, by the sound of it.’ She scowled. ‘I opened the safe.’
‘You opened it?’ Oliver’s lips tightened. ‘How? You didn’t have a key.’
Stella coloured. ‘If you must know, I had a copy of the key made before Griff died. It’s hardly Fort Knox. A child could have opened it.’
Oliver looked at Laura. She had no idea what he was thinking, and he knew the time had come when he had to climb down from the fence. ‘So what did you find?’ he asked, knowing full well his mother would know what he was saying. He crossed to the safe and removed the handful of papers and documents he found there. ‘There’s nothing much here. Just a few old bank statements—’ He paused, and then drew an envelope from his pocket. ‘I wonder—were you looking for this?’
It was the will and Stella’s consternation was plain. ‘I knew you had to have it with you when it wasn’t there, but you can’t—you can’t—’
Stella was almost beside herself, but it was Laura who was looking puzzled now. ‘A will?’ she exclaimed blankly. ‘Did Daddy keep a copy of his will in the safe?’
‘Not this will,’ Oliver told her heavily. ‘This isn’t the will he’d deposited with Marcus Venning, I’m afraid. This is his new will. It was made fairly recently. My mother found it before the funeral, you see.’
Laura blinked. ‘Then why didn’t she—?’
‘She naturally assumed it was the same will that Marcus had witnessed. It wasn’t until the will was read that she realised her mistake. And by then she didn’t want to admit she’d found it, particularly as the old will was so much more favourable to her.’
Laura hesitated. ‘The terms of the new will are different?’ she asked faintly, and Oliver realised she still didn’t understand what it might mean.
‘They are,’ he said gently. ‘Penmadoc is left to you entirely. My mother—’ He gave Stella a scathing glance. ‘My mother is quite adequately taken care of, but your father obviously wanted you to have the house.’
‘And you’ve had this will all along?’
Laura was evidently making sense of what he’d said, and Oliver felt his spirits sink to the floor. ‘Since I went back to London, yes,’ he said, ignoring Stella’s scowling face. ‘I took the safe key, too. I had no idea my mother had a copy.’
‘You had no right to take the will,’ began Stella angrily, but this time Jaz, who had halted in the doorway, chose to intervene.
‘Leave it, Stell,’ he said. ‘Laura knows about it now, so there’s no good in labouring the point. I
told you that Oliver would never stand for it, but you wouldn’t listen to me.’
‘Well, I’ll never forgive him for this,’ choked Stella tearfully, but Oliver sensed they were tears of anger, not of distress. He’d never forgive himself, but for an entirely different reason. In even listening to his mother, he had probably destroyed any chance of Laura’s trusting in him again.
‘I can’t believe it.’ Laura was shaking. ‘So that’s why Stella didn’t want to attend Daddy’s funeral. She was putting off the reading of the will—why? Because she thought I’d put her out of the house?’
‘Yeah.’ Oliver nodded. ‘And I didn’t say anything, even when Marcus read the old will,’ he added, condemning himself completely. ‘I wanted to talk to you first, but you disappeared before I got the chance. Then this morning—’ But he didn’t want to go into that, not in this company. ‘She is my mother, for my sins. I guess I didn’t want to be responsible for driving her out of her home.’
‘I—I can understand that.’ Laura was more charitable than he would have given her credit for. But Stella wanted nothing from her.
‘Just listen to her,’ she said. ‘Miss Prim and Proper! You weren’t so prim and proper when you were crawling into my son’s bed!’
Laura blanched, and Oliver had heard enough. ‘Shut it, Ma!’ he exclaimed savagely. ‘I still don’t think you have any idea what you’ve done. Without you, Laura and I might still have been together. You ruined my life. You’ve ruined all our lives. I’ll never forgive you for that.’
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Laura sat at the window of her apartment in Greenwich Village, gazing out at the plane trees in the park across the street. It was early evening and the park was practically deserted now, the children and their carers who had occupied the swings and fed the ducks on the ornamental pond were long gone, and twilight crept like a violet wraith across the grass.
Laura sipped at the cup of coffee in her hand. Despite its beauty, this was the time of day she liked least. Evening heralded the night and she was still sleeping badly. She often spent the early hours of the morning reading some would-be author’s manuscript, and she’d threatened Matt that she was going to bill him for all those extra hours.
