“Why don’t we take Heidi to the park; you’ll feel better in the fresh air,” she suggested as she wiped porridge from the tray and offered Heidi a slice of toast.
“I need to pick up some invoices from the cafe, then I’m going to phone the prison; but that sounds like a good idea,” Lydia agreed.
“I’ll go and change Heidi then,” Marney took her daughter from the chair and made her way up the stairs.
Lydia picked up her car keys, “I’m going to the cafe,” she called up the stairs as she opened the front door. Without waiting for an answer, she unlocked the car and reversed out of the drive.
Marney picked out a pair of soft denim jeans, a T-shirt and a pink cardigan for Heidi. When she was dressed, she began to brush her hair taking care as she removed a lump of dried porridge.
“Don’t you look a pretty lady,” she cooed at the giggling child. As she turned to drop some dirty nightwear into the linen basket she heard a loud noise, which appeared to be coming from the direction of the kitchen. Picking Heidi up, she approached the top of the stairs and called over the banister.
“Lydia, is that you?” she expected to hear her sister’s voice, but instead heard a scuffling sound coming from beneath her. Cautiously, she began to descend the stairs, her heart racing as she gripped Heidi close to her body. Before she reached the bottom stair, the sound of the back door slamming loudly caused her to rush forward and snatch it open. A man, with a hood pulled tightly over his head, was running in the direction of the main road, and Marney realised he had been in the house. Closing the door, she picked up her phone as Lydia’s car pulled into the drive.
Without waiting for her to get out of it, she rushed outside and banged on the window as Lydia gathered a pile of invoices together.
“What’s wrong?” Lydia opened the door.
“Someone was in the house, I was upstairs I thought it was you,” her voice quivered as she explained.
“Calm down Marney; let’s go inside,” Lydia ushered her towards the front door.
When they were in the confines of the house, Marney explained what had happened.
“Are you sure it wasn’t coming from next door?” Lydia doubted her words.
“I saw a man in a hooded jacket running down the road Lydia.”
“That doesn’t mean he was in the house,” Lydia was not convinced of what her sister had seen.
“I know what I saw; we should phone the police, they can take fingerprints,” she insisted.
“Is there anything missing Marney?”
“I don’t know; I haven’t had a chance to look,” she glanced round the room.
“O.K, let’s have a look around; if anything is missing, we’ll call them,” Lydia began searching through cupboards and drawers.
After half an hour of searching, and Marney still protesting, Lydia sat down.
“Nothings’ been taken; perhaps the sound did come from next door,”
“But I saw a man running down the road,” she repeated.
“But you didn’t see him come out of the house,” Lydia argued.
“Just forget about it Marney, I need to make a phone call, then we’ll go out for that walk.”
Switching her thoughts back to Tom Anderson, Lydia reluctantly took the letter Marney had left on the kitchen table and proceeded to read it. As she had correctly anticipated, his words were predominantly imploring her forgiveness, and she was incensed with rage. Refusing to read anymore of his pathetic words, she made a note of the prison name and phone number and keyed it into her mobile phone. After ten minutes of security questions, and transference from one department to another, she was eventually connected to the Governor of Sutton Prison.
“Good morning,” Lydia began, “I was wondering if you could give me some information regarding a prisoner?” she asked hesitantly.
Ten more minutes of interrogation and confirmation of her identity followed, by which time Marney appeared in the room where she placed Heidi in the confines of her play-pen.
“Yes, that’s right,” Lydia continued, and then listened as she was informed of the recent changes.
“I understand,” Lydia nodded her head and added, “there’s just one more thing; can you tell me how he’s allowed to phone me and write to me?”
Lydia continued to listen and nod her head periodically before she spoke.
“I can assure you it wasn’t me; and I’d like it to stop.”
Without waiting for a response, she stabbed the call end button and sat down at the kitchen table where Marney took a seat beside her.
“Well, what did they say?” she asked.
“What you said was right, but he won’t be able to leave the prison on day release for at least six months. There’s some confusion over when he could be released. They have to liaise with the Offender Management Unit; but I’ll be informed beforehand.”
“So, we don’t know anything more than what was in the letter,” Marney said.
“There is something,” Lydia stared at her sister with a harsh expression on her face.
“When Tom Anderson was sent to prison, he submitted a list of phone numbers of friends and family he wanted to keep in contact with. My mobile and land-line were on that list,” she paused and awaited a reaction; but didn’t get one and continued.
“Apparently, a prison official phoned my land-line and spoke to a woman who gave permission for him to phone this number,” this provoked a reaction.
“Are you trying to say it was me?” shock registered on Marney’s face.
“Who else?”
“I don’t remember doing it Lyds.”
“You must do, how often do we get phone calls from prisons?” Lydia asked incredulously.
“It was a long time ago; I really don’t remember,” she avoided her sister’s intense glare.
“I can’t believe you would do such a thing; what did you expect to achieve?” Lydia persisted.
“I’m going to get the pram out of the car, are you coming with me to the park?” Marney ignored the question
Realising she wasn’t going to own up, Lydia agreed.
“I’ll go and get changed; and don’t answer the phone if it rings,” she warned.
Ten minutes later, Marney pushed the pram along the pavement with Lydia trailing behind. She didn’t speak until they reached the gates of the local park.
“There’s someone following us; don’t look behind,” she glanced sideways at her sister.
As they passed through the gates, Marney felt a hand on her shoulder and turned around in response.
“Hi Marney,” the young man smiled at her.
Lydia studied the appearance of the man and her first impression of him was one of general untidiness. His dark hair was unruly and in need of washing and grooming. There was at least a couple of day’s stubble growth on his chin and upper lip where spots had erupted amongst the bristles. Overall though, he was moderately good-looking with a straight nose and alluring dark eyes, but his general demeanour was one of untidiness.
. “Oh, it’s you; were you following us?” she asked.
“Of course not, I was taking my dog for a walk,” he stroked the animal by his side.
“I’ll see you later then,” Marney dismissed him and pushed the pram hurriedly along the footpath.
“Who was that Marney?” Lydia asked, glancing over her shoulder.
“I don’t know his name, but he keeps coming into the cafe, and I know he’s following me,” she watched as he crossed the road and headed in the opposite direction away from the park.
“You said you liked him,” Lydia questioned her.
“Well I’ve changed my mind, he’s a creep. Everywhere I go he pops up from behind a bush, or around a corner,” she checked over her shoulder again.
“Don’t encourage him, it could turn nasty,” Lydia warned.
“I’ve never encouraged him; he’s not my type anyway,” she insisted.
For a couple of hours, the two sisters enjoyed each ot
her’s company as they circled the lake and walked through the Italian gardens before heading home. The fresh air had the desired effect on Lydia as she sensed her body relax, and her mood lift. Heidi had also succumbed to the invigorating effects of the fresh spring air and drifted off to sleep. Lydia’s elated mood continued as they turned into the familiar cul-de-sac and opened the front door.
The rest of the day was spent carrying out domestic tasks and preparing for the working week ahead. After an evening meal and Heidi’s usual bath, Marney curled up on the sofa next to Lydia to watch a long-awaited film. With no further mention of the day’s events, they spent a pleasant evening together before locking the house and retiring for the night. The next morning however, would bring an unexpected shock for Marney and devastating news for Lydia.
CHAPTER THREE
The week began with the usual turmoil of gathering Heidi’s belongings together to arrive at her Grandmother’s house before eight thirty. Heidi was refusing to eat her breakfast and Marney was becoming anxious and repeatedly glanced at the clock.
“Are you nearly ready sis; I’ve got a meeting at ten and I want the cafe gleaming before then,” she glanced at her watch. Marney took Heidi from the high-chair, hurriedly pulled on a coat and picked up her holdall. In the hallway, the postman deposited half a dozen letters on the door mat, which Lydia scooped up and dropped into her handbag. After a brief conversation with their mother concerning Heidi’s routine-which Marney repeated every week-Lydia finally began the short drive to the cafe. After changing their clothes, Lydia rolled up her sleeves and turned to Marney.
“Right, let’s get going; I’ll start in here and you can have a go at the kitchen.”
“What do you want me to do?” Marney asked.
“Clean everything,” Lydia turned away and began polishing the tables and replacing the napkins and covers.
After an hour of dusting polishing and scrubbing, the cafe was spotless, and Lydia stood back to admire the gleaming surfaces. When she was satisfied with the result, she turned towards the kitchen where Marney was mopping the floor.
“It looks great Marney, now put a clean apron on and come into the cafe.”
As the first customer of the day pushed open the door and took a seat, Marney approached the elderly gentleman and took his order for tea and a bacon sandwich. When she returned with his order, the door opened again, and an officious looking man approached the counter. His disinterest in ordering a meal was obvious as he glanced round the cafe and began to make notes on a clipboard. Aware of his identity and intentions, Lydia approached him.
“Mr. Brookes I assume, I’m Lydia Nevin,” she held out her hand.
“Good morning Mrs. Nevin, this is a nice little place you have here,” he glanced around and smiled.
“How long have you been here?” he asked.
“Just over seven years,” Lydia mentally envisaged the first day she opened the doors of the cafe, and the time and effort Jake had contributed to her dream.
“I’m not Mrs. Nevin, I’m divorced, but the café is still in my married name,” she remarked awkwardly.
“Shall we take a look around Mrs., Miss?” he asked.
“Lydia will do,” she led him towards the kitchen and small staff-room area.
“Everything seems well organised; is there any accommodation on the first floor?”
“No, it’s just storage room.”
“Have you considered expanding?” he scribbled more notes.
“We have discussed it briefly, but we don’t have the finances at the moment,” Lydia now realised it was a viable option.
“I’ll take a look upstairs, and then outside,” Lydia opened the door that led to the upper level. After a brief inspection, she showed him around the garden, where the haunting memories flooded back. The grass was over-grown, and weeds were beginning to push through the small gravelled area outside the wooden shed. She still couldn’t bear to look at the lawn which had been Adam’s football pitch.
Back inside the cafe, Lydia led Mr. Brookes to a corner table and gestured for him to sit down.
“I’ll need to see the accounts, and then I can send you an email concerning the appraisal,” he looked up at her.
“Have you a rough idea of the value?” she asked hopefully.
“Not really, the market’s rather slow and small businesses are closing at an alarming rate,” he frowned.
“Right, when can I expect to hear from you?” she attempted to conceal her disappointment.
“It shouldn’t take more than a few days,” he shuffled his papers together and tucked them into his briefcase as Marney approached the table.
“Can I get you a drink?” she asked with a smile.
“No thank you, I’ve got another appointment,” he glanced at his watch, and added.
“Fortunately, the recession has had an advantageous effect on my business,” he stood up and shook Lydia’s hand.
“You’ll hear from me shortly Lydia,” he tucked his case under his arm and left. As the door closed behind him, Marney headed towards the kitchen to make a pot of tea. Taking advantage of a lull in customers, Lydia retrieved the morning post from her handbag and took a seat at an empty table to sort through them. Marney placed a tray on the table, sat down and poured two cups of tea.
“Two for you, three for me and two for the cafe, probably more bills,” she slid Marney’s post across the table, and tore open a brown envelope.
“Special offers from the caterer’s,” Lydia discarded the flyer and picked up the last letter. Recognising the correspondent, she placed the unopened letter into her handbag.
Marney was engrossed in a letter she was reading and didn’t look up. Her expression however had changed from the anticipation of reading an unexpected letter, to utter dismay at the contents.
Lydia studied her face, “What’s wrong Marney?” she asked sensing bad news was imminent.
“It’s this letter,” she dropped it on the table and looked up.
“Well what does it say?” Lydia asked.
“It’s from Dan Geritty’s solicitor,” she replied, avoiding looking in her direction.
The mention of his name instantly induced panic in Lydia.
“Are you going to tell me what it says Marney?” she drummed her fingers on the table.
Marney picked up the letter and scanned it briefly before she spoke.
“Dan Gerrity has an uncle, his father’s brother, who is in a nursing home. He inherited Dan’s estate when he died. According to this letter, there are no other living relatives; Dan’s parents are both deceased, and the brother in the nursing home never married,” she took a sip of tea and continued.
“So, what’s all this got to do with you?” Lydia pressed her for more information.
“Dan went to visit his uncle in the nursing home and told him about me and the baby. He swore him to secrecy, but he didn’t keep his promise. Now Heidi stands to inherit everything,” she looked up at Lydia’s stunned face.
“Let me have a look,” Lydia snatched the letter from her hand.
After a few minutes, she looked up at Marney.
“Have you read all of this?”
“Of course I have,” she snapped.
“To receive the inheritance, we must have proof that Mr. Daniel Gerrity is the father of the child in question. This can be ascertained by means of a paternity test, the cost of which will be met by the executor,” Lydia read the words from the letter.
“There can’t be a paternity test Marney, Dan is dead.” Lydia slid the letter across the table and scowled.
“That’s what I thought, but there are some complex tests they can do on living relatives,” Marney glanced at the letter.
“You said there were no other living relatives.”
“They don’t need to be alive; if there’s a blood sample or D.N.A. it can be done.”
“Dan was cremated Marney; this is ridiculous!” she stood up to take an order from a customer who had entered the
cafe and taken a seat. Marney folded the letter, replaced it back into the envelope and tucked it inside her apron pocket. The subject was not raised again until the last lunch-time customer had left the cafe. With a plate of fresh sandwiches between them, Marney re-read the letter.
“You’re not going to go through with this, are you?” Lydia studied her intense expression.
“I haven’t decided yet,” she replied quietly.
“You can’t be serious Marney; you know Dan isn’t Heidi’s father.”
Marney leaned forward and whispered, “Well that’s where you’re wrong; I can’t say for certain that he isn’t.”
Lydia couldn’t believe what she was hearing.
“So, when you said Dan Gerrity wasn’t Heidi’s father, you were lying?”
“No, I didn’t really know; but I had to get Ellen Gerrity off my back,” she glanced towards the door as a customer entered the cafe.
“I’ll go and take the order,” she offered.
Approaching the table, she recognised the person studying the menu and her expression changed.
“Hi Marney, can I have a coffee with plenty of milk,” the young man asked politely.
“No, you can’t; why do you keep following me, and coming in here bothering me?” she demanded an answer.
“I just want a cup of coffee,” he repeated, undeterred by her hostility.
“I’ll get my sister to serve you then,” she turned around quickly and almost collided with Lydia.
“Is there something wrong?” she asked.
“Yes, him,” she pointed a finger at the scruffy young man studying the menu.
“What can I get you?” Lydia asked politely.
“Just a coffee with plenty of milk,” he repeated his request.
She smiled and headed towards the kitchen with Marney following closely behind.
“Why did you serve him, he’s stalking me?” Marney demanded to know.
The Truth: sequel to I Will Find You Page 3
