Kolney Hatch: Buried Secrets (The Secret of Kolney Hatch Book 2)

by Stefani Milan

  “Of course,” I said. “Where’s Richard?”

  “I’m right here,” Richard said, appearing by my side. He gave me a rather hard slap on the shoulder. “I’m glad you’re here Paul.”

  “How is the production going?” I asked.

  “Just wonderful. I’ll tell you. I couldn’t be happier, and I am enjoying every minute of it.”

  He handed me a cigar. Before I could refuse, he said, “Please, just this once, a cigar. We’re celebrating.”

  I took it, and then after lighting it for me, he said, “I’ll catch up with all of you later...”

  Richard smirked and then sauntered over to the other side of the room to speak with a few intelligent looking men I did not know.

  That’s when I saw Claire standing in the corner of drawing room. She was more beautiful and glamorous than I had ever seen her. Claire had always been a simple woman, but now, in her long, elegant ivory dress and diamond headpiece, warmed by the glow of a soft lit, golden blush lampshade, she looked heavenly. Truly, she looked happy.

  She spoke with a tall, broad-shouldered man with dark, familiar eyes and dark hair. The way he cupped her small waist and whispered into her ear made me uneasy, but even amidst conversation, she seemed to sense my staring at her, for she turned to look at me, only for a split second before turning away again.

  Oscar and Edgar were discussing a cricket match. I sighed and puffed my cigar. I wished Aldous were here. I had so many questions. But he was still in America, although Detective Wicksy was sure he would return to London again soon. Lost in my thoughts, I hardly noticed when Claire appeared by my side with the man.

  “Paul? Is anyone in there?”

  “Sorry...” I said, narrowing my eyes at the man standing next to Claire.

  “You’re quite preoccupied,” she laughed. “I asked you, what you thought of my new look?”

  She extended her ivory gloved hand for me to kiss. I could not help but notice the large diamond on her finger over top the glove and that her other hand held a tall glass of wine.

  I was speechless for several seconds at her lovely appearance, and when I finally spoke I said, “You look beautiful.”

  “Thank you, Paul. And you look handsome as always.” She turned to the man standing beside her. “Forgive me for being so rude, Mr. Finlaw. This is Paul Watson, Richard’s best friend...Paul, you must have seen Mr. Finlaw on screen. He’s very well known, especially in America.”

  “You’re too kind,” Finlaw said in a deep American accent.

  “You’re from America?” I said, pretending not to know him.

  “Yes. My mother is Lana Finlaw.” He turned to Claire. “Would you like a cigarette, Lady Claire?”

  “Oh yes. I have heard of her,” I replied, thrown off by Finlaw’s introduction of Claire as “Lady.” “I should have made that connection.”

  My voice trailed off as I watched Claire smoke on a cigarette.

  “Claire, I didn’t know you smoked.”

  Claire ignored my comment.

  “Paul, did you know Mr. Finlaw was born in London?”

  “Is that so?” I said, taking a sip of my Chardonnay.

  “Yes, my parents died when I was quite young, and my uncle took me to America to live with family. When my uncle passed away, I was adopted by my mother and father.”

  “That is an interesting story. I do know what it feels like to lose both parents.”

  “Well, I was much too young to remember their deaths, thank goodness, but I have heard your story from Claire. It sounds like something for the cinema.”

  Knowing that Claire had such deep conversations with this Finlaw fellow irritated me. Just then one of the production crew appeared by our sides.

  “Would you join us at the piano, Mr. Finlaw? There are some people here who would just love to meet you.”

  “Of course, of course, chap,” Finlaw said with a smile.

  He gave me a nod, and then I watched as he wiped a strand of hair from Claire’s cheek. My insides filled with anger, and I turned my head to see if Richard was watching the interaction, but he didn’t seem to care.

  “What are you doing Claire?” I whispered when Finlaw was gone.

  “I don’t know what you’re on about,” she said shrugging.

  “You and Finlaw seem to be getting on a little too well.”

  “And why shouldn’t we? We have a lot in common, and we enjoy the same fine lifestyle.”

  I folded my arms and darkened my stare. Claire was upsetting me. This behavior did not seem like her at all.

  “What does Richard think about your new friend?”

  “There’s no need to be jealous, Paul. Richard is Mr. Finlaw’s director. And they get along just fine.”

  “I didn’t know Richard was directing the film. I only thought his film was being produced.”

  “Oh, no,” Claire said over the loud music. She spoke close to my ear now. “Richard is the director now, and he’s doing a wonderful job.” She took a large gulp of her wine and then took a puff of her cigarette again. “Oh, Paul. I just love Paris. The boutiques are lovely. I’ve never had wealth like this. I hope it never ends.”

  Claire’s behavior did not fit her. She was never preoccupied with money or fame, and I had never seen her drink or smoke.

  “Where did all this...wealth come from?” I asked with a bit of irritation in my voice. “I didn’t think Richard had the money to produce such a large film with actors as well-known as....Mr. Finlaw.”

  “Richard inherited his mother’s family fortune. It’s not as much as we hoped, but it was enough to put on his production and for us to indulge a bit.”

  “I didn’t realize you were so concerned with...indulging.”

  Claire laughed and took another sip of her wine.

  “Every woman is concerned with living lavishly, Paul.

  Even if she doesn’t appear that way.”

  I didn’t believe Claire, and so I said, “Claire are you sure you’re all right? This behavior is very uncharacteristic of you.”

  I touched her elbow gently as I said it and wondered if perhaps something awful had happened to explain her behavior. Perhaps Richard was treating her badly, and she didn’t know how to deal with it. But Claire became defensive and said, “Perhaps the real problem is that you don’t know the real me. I’m not the little do-gooder Claire that longs for Paul Watson. Those days are long gone. And I don’t need you to come to my rescue any longer.”

  Claire downed the rest of her glass and handed it to a passing servant who was serving glasses of champagne. She took a full glass from the tray and began to drink.

  “I think you’ve had too much to drink, Claire.”

  “What I do is none of your concern. Now, if you’ll excuse me,” she stumbled into me a little as she spoke. “I’m going to dance. Dance with me, Paul.”

  I caught her elbow and helped her stand.

  “Please, Claire. Why don’t you sit?”

  “No,” she said causing a slight scene and pulling her arm away from mine. I could tell the drinks had affected her deeply. She slurred her words slightly now. “I’m going to dance.”

  “Claire...please, you’re causing a scene. And I know this isn’t you. You’ve had too much to drink, and you need to sit down.”

  “Just stand there like you always do, Paul,” Claire said loud enough for Oscar and Edgar to turn around. “But I’m going to dance.”

  I motioned to Edgar, who seemed to understand the situation.

  “I’ll dance with you, Claire,” Edgar said with a cheerful smile. “Come with me, darling.”

  “Finally,” Claire said with an inebriated giggle.

  Edgar led Claire to the dance floor, but not before removing the glass of champagne from her hand and placing it on a servant’s tray.

  I turned to Oscar.

  “What’s happened to Claire?”

  “Fame and riches, Paul,” Oscar said solemnly. “To the privileged, riches are just one of many
entitlements, but those with newly acquired wealth can sometimes exhibit vain and reckless behavior. I do worry that Richard and Claire may be falling into that pattern.”

  I looked at Claire who was dancing with Guy Finlaw now. My insides burned with rage. I shook my head.

  “What can we do? How can we stop it?”

  “I’m afraid there’s nothing we can do, Paul,” Oscar sighed. “Nothing at all.”

  44 A Different Claire

  Paul Watson’s Journal

  June 2, 1927 evening—Claire’s behavior at the production party bothered me enough that I decided to visit her and speak to her about it. I needed to know why she acted so strangely. I was sure something terrible had happened to make her act that way, and I was not going to let Guy Finlaw be her escape from whatever it was she was going through. I needed to be there for her during her hardship.

  I arrived to Richard’s house early in the morning. I knew Richard would be with Oscar for a few hours—they were playing a match of cricket—and this moment was my chance to catch Claire alone. When she opened the door and found me standing there, she pressed her lips together and narrowed her unusually puffy, tired eyes.

  “Paul, what are you doing here?”

  Her reaction confused me.

  “I was...hoping we could talk...alone.”

  She considered my statement for a moment with crossed arms and then said, “All right.”

  She stepped backward to let me inside. Inside the drawing room, a young housekeeper was cleaning. “Mrs. Bitts, leave us.”

  “Yes, madam. Would you like me to bring some tea for your guest?”

  “No. You have more important things to do anyway. I’ll call for you when I need you.”

  Mrs. Bitts did not look Claire in the eye. She simply scurried away.

  “Do you not like your housemaid, Claire?” I asked.

  “She’s wretched.”

  “She seems kind enough.”

  “Oh do you think so, Paul?” Claire said haughtily. “I’m sure she just loved cleaning your house. I’m sure you became quite...close with Mrs. Bitts.”

  I did not react to Claire’s harsh tone. I simply took a seat on one of the chairs by the fireplace and lit a cigarette.

  Claire sat down next to me and her piercing blue eyes caught mine.

  “So, what is it you want to talk about Paul?”

  “If I may speak honestly,” I requested.

  “Of course.”

  I spoke in as gentle a tone as possible so not to upset Claire.

  “It’s just...you don’t seem very much like yourself lately, and I wish you would tell me why.”

  Claire didn’t respond. She just pulled a cigarette out of her case. I observed the cigarette trembling in her hand, as I hurried to light it for her.

  “Has he hurt you again?” I asked calmly. Richard hurting Claire was the only reason to explain her behavior.

  “Why do you care?” she snapped, her eyes giving me a fierce look.

  “How could you ask me that?”

  I was shocked at Claire’s response, and I couldn’t find anything else to say.

  “Even if Richard did hurt me again, it’s none of your concern.”

  I gritted my teeth.

  “It absolutely is my concern, Claire. I love you and I’m not going to let anyone hurt you. You need to tell me if something’s happened.”

  Claire stood up abruptly and walked over to a tall sideboard and picked up a cordial filled with red wine. She poured herself a tall glass and took a sip of it.

  “It’s a little early for that, don’t you think?”

  “Again, that’s none of your business,” she said in a flat voice.

  I couldn’t comprehend this version of Claire. Something terrible had happened to her, and she wouldn’t accept my help.

  “Claire, if Richard hurt you, I’ll handle it. All you have to do is tell me the truth.”

  But Claire wasn’t listening. She was drinking her wine quickly now, and had completely changed the subject.

  “I realized something when I was in Paris,” she began as she puffed her cigarette. “Something about you and me, and this whole mess that we’ve created...I used to really believe that you loved me, and then, while I was there, I realized that with everything that happened in the past year, you could not possibly love me as you say you do.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Claire ignored my question.

  “Oh never mind,” she said downing the last bit of her wine and filling her glass again. This time she sat next to me. “Oh Paris,” she said, throwing herself back against the chair and spilling a little of her wine. With no expression in her voice, she continued, “Oh dear, I’m so clumsy. I do miss Paris though. It is magical there, Paul. You must go, if you can. I can buy anything I want there. Do anything I want. It’s as if I’m one person in that life, and another in this one.”

  “Claire, what is happening to you? I’m not leaving until you talk to me about it.”

  “Nothing’s happening to me. I’m just behaving as a woman of my kind would.”

  “What kind of woman is that?”

  “Ask Richard. I’m sure he has many stories to share with you. And as for you, what good is it to revel in the past, Paul? Life doesn’t work out the way we want it to sometimes, and because of that, we must learn to enjoy the life we’ve been given.”

  “That’s not fair, Claire.”

  “What?”

  “The way you go on, as if I’ve done something to you,” I said calmly. I smoked my cigarette. “You chose to marry Richard. He didn’t force your hand. I waited for you and you chose him. I’ve been here for you all this time, and I am even now. I’m not the one who’s married, Claire. You may have given up on us, but it’s you who did. Not me.”

  Claire sipped her wine again.

  “Oh Paul, you only pretend you love me, and you pretend that you even know what love is, but you don’t have the slightest idea.”

  “That’s enough, Claire.”

  “All the women love you so much.”

  “Claire, we need to talk about Guy Finlaw. There are rumors. You’ve been awfully careless with your reputation.”

  “Me? When have you ever cared about reputation?” She argued. “Besides, I’m half American. Perhaps I haven’t been living as free as I could, and now I am.”

  Claire spoke angrily then.

  “I need a man who takes charge of his life, and fights for the woman he loves. Someone who’s not afraid of Richard...who looks at me and knows that I’m the only woman he ever wants to be with in this cruel world. A man who will go to the ends of the earth for me and who isn’t afraid of anyone who gets in the way. I wanted you to be that person, Paul, but I guess the Adonis of London was too busy with all of the other women to fight for the one he claimed to love.”

  I didn’t know how to respond, so I kept quiet. I wanted to cry out and tell her that I wasn’t afraid of Richard, and I did love her. But I wanted all of her, and as long as Richard was in the picture, I couldn’t have her. But I said none of that because deep down I knew something terrible had happened to her, and she wouldn’t tell me. Not now, and maybe, not ever.

  “I understand,” I said after several seconds of silence. “I respect your need to stay quiet on whatever’s happened. But please, be honest with me, Claire. Are you and Guy carrying on with one another?”

  “You don’t have a right to ask me that.”

  “Perhaps not,” I shrugged. “But I do love you still, and I still want to be with you. Leave Richard and be with me, Claire, and none of this will matter.”

  “You don’t get it do you!” she cried.

  Just then Mrs. Bitts walked into the room.

  “Get out of here!” Claire yelled, frightening the woman.

  “Claire, that’s not a kind way to speak to your housekeeper.”

  “Well, she’s always listening. Probably so she could go and run off and tell everyone like she’s been doing. I’
d have fired her already, the little...” Claire scowled and spoke directly to the servant. “Don’t act like I don’t know what you did, Mrs. Bitts.”

  She turned back to me.

  “Richard won’t let me fire her.”

  “Mrs. Bitts,” I said. “Why don’t you just put the tea down and go on and leave for the day. Mrs. Baker clearly isn’t feeling well as you can see.”

  Mrs. Bitts nodded and hurried out of the room.

  “Claire, you must calm down. You’re making a spectacle of yourself, and if you want people to continue to gossip about you, then keep doing...exactly...what you’re doing.”

  “What do I care what people say about me Paul?”

  “Why do you dislike your maid so?”

  “Richard’s been carrying on with a blonde woman, and I know it’s that...Mrs. Bitts.”

  “I could speak to him about it.”

  “I don’t even care that he’s with her,” Claire broke down. “Not anymore. But he’s made it quite clear...forcefully...that I will not be leaving him any time soon and when I refuse him in bed, he forces me and shows me my place in this world, again and again. I am only a woman, and I will continue to pay consequences.”

  “Claire,” I said hurrying to her side and taking her hands in mine. “That isn’t right. He may be your husband, but he has no right to hurt you in that way or force you to do anything, especially if he’s carrying on with someone else. Please, let me help you.”

  Claire laughed.

  “I know a good lawyer. He can help you leave Richard. Leave him, and be with me. I’ll protect you.”

  Claire looked into my eyes, and I knew she was contemplating my offer. But then she looked away.

  “No,” Claire asserted. “I don’t want your lawyer. I’m fine.”

  “Why not, Claire?”

  “Because...I don’t want to be with you, Paul.”

  “What?”

  “I have a new life, Paul, and you’re not part of it.”

  45 Beatrice’s Secret

  Petunia could not stop staring at the distressed look on Beatrice’s usually pleasant face. Indeed, some women looked odd with a furrowed brow. However, this expression was so unlike Beatrice’s usual bubbly face, that Petunia simply could not make her eyes look anywhere else than at the poor girl.