SNATCHED BAIRN: Scottish Fiction

by Anne Bone

  So, on that Thursday evening when they had sat down at the kitchen table to have supper, she had announced that she had booked a holiday for them both, a cruise to the Canaries for two weeks at the beginning of March. ‘It will be super Marcus,’ she had told him, ‘the ship looks fantastic and we will have four nights in Tenerife in a four star hotel prior to boarding the ship, and two nights when the cruise finishes. It will be just what we need, to relax after all the busyness of the wedding and get some sun. ‘I decided,’ she informed him, her voice conveying to him that it was a decision that was not up for discussion, ‘we haven’t been away since Spain in September, and you certainly need a break.’ When she finished her prepared speech, she waited watching him for his response.

  ‘Well, I am afraid that it won’t be possible for me to go,’ he told her. He was furious that she had not checked with him, and there was absolutely no way he could or would leave Jenni for two weeks, it just wasn’t possible.

  On hearing his words, Veronica had stared at him and a look of steel had come across her face, causing her features to tighten and sharpen. ‘Surely it is not impossible for you to get away from your business, for two weeks.’ Her tone was sarcastic, ‘Your… business can surely look after itself, or would it be more accurate to say herself…?’

  The words had been said, the words that both knew would have to be addressed. He didn’t deny it, he was tired of secrets and so he did not reply, he just placed another forkful of food in his mouth and proceeded to chew.

  ‘So,’ she said, ‘I take it from your lack of response that she cannot be left for two whole weeks. What is it, are you frightened that she might go off with someone else?’ She gathered breath, ‘Or, maybe you can’t bear to not have a shag, because I know you are getting it somewhere Marcus as it’s not from me.’ She couldn’t remember the last time he had reached for her, and when she had tried to take the initiative he had told her he was too tired. ‘Well, come on then, at least have the decency to either deny it or admit it.’

  ‘You would not understand,’ he told her, his voice drained of emotion, ‘It is not what you could even imagine.’

  Veronica had stood up and banged her fist on the table and leaning over she goaded him, ‘Oh, I think I can imagine. What do you fucking think I have been doing for the past weekends? I have been doing nothing else but fucking imagining. So come on, you bastard, tell me what I can’t I even imagine?’ There was no answer, and she banged the table again, ‘Come on, tell me, just tell me about the fucking little scrubber, because that’s what she is, just a scrubber.’

  This got his attention. He looked at her. ‘Sit down Veronica, shut up and listen very carefully.’ He reached over and picked up his glass of wine and took a long sip and replaced the glass before he steeled himself. ‘Yes, there is a woman who, I will make it clear to you, is so not as you suggest, she is a decent, kind and remarkable woman who has needed me every weekend. And not in the way you also so crudely suggest. Jenni, because that is her name, needs me because our child, Mary, was abducted and murdered.’

  As he said the words, Veronica was stopped in her tracks, the look of an absolute penetrating shock on her face as the implications of what he had said registered. ‘You mean, the Dinnet woman, and Mary, she was your daughter? Oh for shit’s sake, Marcus, what do you mean? How long has it been going on?’ Before the question could be answered, she realised, ‘My God, the child was nine. It’s been going on for nine years?’

  ‘Yes, but Mary didn’t know that I was her father, we kept it from her,’ he took another swig of his wine, evidently needing this to bolster him as he uttered, ‘and I regret that with all my heart.’ ‘So let me get this right, you have been having an affair with a girl, what is she, she must be at least twenty years younger than you?’ She looked to him for some agreement, but none came, ‘That would mean that she wouldn’t have been much older than your own sons when you met her?’

  All the temptations to rebuke her insinuations left him and he nodded, ‘I suppose, but it wasn’t quite like that. When I met her, we had no intentions of it lasting, nor did we have any intention of having a child. It just happened.’

  ‘Oh well, I suppose that would have been alright then,’ she spat the words at him, ‘having a “brief” affair with a woman young enough to be your daughter would be okay. So that is where you have been every weekend, with her?’

  ‘She needs me, she is in a bad place and, yes, that’s exactly where I have been.’

  ‘Oh! So she needs you. What about me then Marcus, where were you all the times I needed you?’

  ‘I have been here; you have never been left without, not in all of the years we’ve been together. Look at what you have,’ he stretched his arms out to convey the kitchen, ‘everything in this house has been chosen by you for you. You’ve had everything you have always asked for: money, clothes, and your place in the so-called high society of Aberdeen. You got all you have asked for so I have kept my side of the bargain.’

  ‘Is that right? You don’t get it do you? You never have. Oh yes, I wanted a nice house, money, but what I wanted Marcus… was you!’ she roared at him. ‘You! Oh, I know you have always had your dalliances, and, yes, I have turned a blind eye to them. But this, this affair must mean she means something to you.’ She couldn’t hold her fury any longer and found the tears forming in her eyes trickle down each side of her cheeks. She looked at him; he had never loved her like she had loved him. She knew that now. Here she was just about to enter her fiftieth year and her hopes about how he would mellow and be not only her husband but her companion, into the twilight time when they could enjoy getting old together, was now disappearing from her. What about her?

  ‘I’m sorry,’ his voice subdued by her outburst. ‘I didn’t mean it to happen, but it has. I did love you, I still care very much for you, but I need to be with her.’ There it was it was said. The words had been uttered and he knew now all his dallying about over the past years would probably end up hurting her more than if he had faced up to accepting that it was Jenni he wanted, Jenni he loved.

  Now the words were out swimming around in the ether, they couldn’t be retrieved. They would have to face it, talk about how they would manage the future. Veronica stared at him. She realised that no matter what was in her insurance policy about keeping the marriage intact, it may no longer be as safe and secure as she thought. She left him then, telling him that she needed time, time to think, to process the bombshell he had just dropped on her.

  The next few days had been tough. He carried on with his routine, left the following morning and returned on the Monday. She had wondered whether he would return but it seemed that he still hadn’t moved in with his little slut. He moved into the spare bedroom, and she realised that, while he had often spent the night out of their bed, this was final.

  Over that weekend she had decided though, she couldn’t just sit still, accept that he would go and that their marriage was over. No, she wouldn’t do that, she needed to fight and that was exactly what she would do. She found herself yearning for her father, he would have helped her, he would have stood up for her and demanded that Marcus get rid of the damn girl and return to the marriage proper. Her dad, who had been such a loving support to her, he who had not wanted her to get involved with Marcus in the first place, and had tried to dissuade her from doing so. She had ignored his advice, and went headlong into her pursuit of the tall burly man whose chocolate eyes drew her into his spell. She had worked on her dad, her mum had been on her side realising that her daughter had fallen deeply in love. In fact, her mum had also found herself to be slightly in love with Marcus, who at twenty-five, had the charm and charisma that left many women sighing in his wake.

  Major Summers had been up against the full surge of the women in his life, and had no other option but to bow to them and accept Marcus as his future son-in-law. While he was proud of leading his beautiful daughter up the aisle, in the stark church that showed little spark of warmth, he couldn�
�t help but wonder whether he was escorting his daughter towards a great deal of sorrow. He didn’t trust the young debonair man one inch, and that had proved to be accurate just a few months after the couple married.

  Veronica had delighted her parents by announcing just six months after they married that she was pregnant. She was an only child and this meant that they would become grandparents, so whatever her parents thought of Marcus he was to be the father of their grandchildren, and that made all of the difference.

  She remembered how the “insurance policy” had come into being. Marcus had been taking risks, he had been trying to increase his business and had done so by getting involved with some people who were out of his league. He had been stupid and had got caught up in the excitement of taking risks. At just twenty-five, he thought he was a business man who was clever, he wasn’t, he was naïve. He had been introduced to these men who immediately saw how he could be useful to them, so they used him. There was one particular heist that they were planning where he was of some definite use. He had agreed that he would hide a car that had been used as a getaway vehicle. He hadn’t, however, realised when he had agreed to it that the car would be used in a bank raid which had resulted in one of the bank tellers being shot. It was only after the event that this had come to light. He had heard on the news that night that the police had arrested the gang, but they were still looking for the getaway car. They believed that some of the money would still be in the vehicle. He knew exactly where the car was, but also knew there was no money in it. He knew because on hearing this via the news he had checked. He was implicated and he needed to get rid of the car quickly, but didn’t know who he could trust. He knew the gang would never grass on him, and in some ways he was relieved that they had been caught, but he was now on his own. The police had a description of the car and were searching for it.

  He wasn’t sure what to do, but knew that at twenty-five his future was in the balance. All the skills his father had passed on did not assist him in sorting this out. Veronica and he were still living with her parents, they hadn’t yet sorted out a house for themselves, so when he returned in the early hours of the morning the Major had been waiting. Immediately, he recognised that something serious had happened and interrogated his son-in-law until he admitted he had some involvement in the bank raid, but reassured his father-in-law he hadn’t taken part in the actual raid.

  Major Summers had been used to dealing with crises, and he would go to any lengths to protect his daughter. This was her husband, and the father of her future child, so he didn’t see he had many options. He knew that if Marcus was found he would probably face a prison sentence and this would bring further disgrace to the family, but, more importantly, what would it do to his daughter? So he took charge. He still had many contacts throughout Scotland, men he had stood beside in battle, and he had watched their backs just as they had watched his. Some of what took place during the war could never be spoken about, and the small group of comrades who had been together when he had been their officer shared those secrets. Then, he had only held the rank of Captain, but they had held their tongues, their lips had been sealed about their experiences.

  Firstly, he made a phone call. Even though it was now very early in the morning, he knew he must act quickly before Veronica or her mother surfaced. He instructed Marcus to accompany him, there was no argument, Marcus knew better than to do so. They met two men at a house in the next town who greeted the Major respectfully and listened while he outlined the issue. Neither man asked questions, but they agreed that under the cover of darkness they would remove the car, and ensure that it was taken to a place where it would no longer be a risk. They looked at Marcus with disdain; he not only saw, but felt their criticism of him.

  The following morning the car had been removed from the warehouse. He didn’t know how or where it had been taken. He did, however, hear on the news later that day that a burnt out car had been found deep in a local forest. It was gone, the panic over.

  Later that evening the Major requested his company in his study. He sat behind his desk and outlined what he expected of his son-in-law. He had a typed letter in his hand, and passed it to Marcus to read. Marcus’s eyes had widened when he read the words. Basically, it was a document that cemented his marriage. For within the document it stated his involvement in the recent bank raid, that he had knowingly hidden the getaway car, and had then destroyed the car therefore committing an offence of perverting the course of justice. He was instructed to sign the document, with the threat hanging over him that if he refused then the police would be informed. Marcus had signed it. He was then informed by Major Summers that the copy would be held by him and placed with his solicitor with instructions to pass it to his daughter should he die. He was further informed that should he ever try to divorce Veronica, and bring further disgrace on this family, the document would be used to ensure he went to prison. Therefore, he was stuck with this marriage whether he liked it or not.

  Her parents had sadly died, ten years ago, when they had been victims of a car accident. Strange, she thought, that they died about the same time as Marcus had begun the affair. She had been given the sealed envelope by her father’s solicitor, it had been written in his clear copperplate handwriting. He told the story of what had taken place on that night so many years ago and, within the envelope, a second document signed by Marcus admitted that he had been involved in assisting the gang by supplying and hiding the getaway car. She had been shocked. She was already reeling from the loss of her parents. The second shock came when she found out about the secret her father and husband had shared for so long.

  She had confronted him with the document, and he had had no choice other than to admit what had taken place. Her father had instructed her in his note to ensure that the document remained safe, as she could still use this if she needed to ensure her marriage remained intact. She remembered that night when Marcus had assured her that she had no need to hold on to the document, that it had been just her father’s way of pulling rank and having some power over him, that it now could be destroyed. He had smiled that beguiling smile, and suggested that he took it so that he could relieve her of making this decision. She hadn’t agreed though, telling him that she needed to keep it, it was from her father to her. So she had tucked it away in a safe place, realising that her father had meant her to keep it. Now was it time to remind him again, or was the incident so long ago that it would no longer interest the police or anyone else, what he had done as a young man? She wasn’t sure, but it was in her arsenal, that she would use when she went into battle.

  When Marcus had returned he found Veronica to be civil, but cold. He felt her icy mood as soon as he had opened the door. He couldn’t blame her, could anyone expect any different response when their wife discovered that someone had taken her place? Some may have just left, or been thrown out, but this wasn’t Veronica’s way. He had told Jenni at the weekend that Veronica knew, and that he wanted them to be together. She had been speechless, and for a slight moment he wondered whether she did really want to be with him. She had asked him if he was serious, and really sure. He had reassured her that he was completely and utterly serious, and wanted to be with her for the rest of his life.

  It was then she had gazed at him with that enchanting and alluring smile that for a moment lit up her face. He looked into the face that was like a sheath of fine parchment, the colour had been wiped from it, with the grief and sorrow, so much pain was held beneath the surface and her vulnerability and fragility was like a sword that pierced through his soul. He knew that he would never hurt her for as long as he lived on this earth. He wanted to protect, to shield her from any further hurt, and would do his absolute best to ensure he made it up to her for all his shilly-shallying around.

  ‘Marcus, what about Veronica? I never wanted to hurt her, that is why I never asked for more. You know that don’t you?’ she asked him, her eyes misty with unshed tears.

  He had reassured her, telling her that h
e would make sure that Veronica was looked after, but she would survive. They had talked then about how they would be together, and he had introduced the idea that they would find a property and be together. She wasn’t for that she told him, she wouldn’t leave the flat. She couldn’t, it was where she felt closest to Mary. He understood and assured her that they would go on as they were for a while, until she felt ready.

  The civility between Veronica and him continued. It was a strange lull. When Tom and Kim visited they had presented a front, neither would be the first to admit to their son what was going on. Veronica adopted a glittering brittle presentation; she had a sharp edge as they danced around each other, waiting for the other to make the first move.

  It was she who made it, not being able to hold it in any longer. He had faced her across the kitchen table one Monday evening when he returned from his weekend, and she had been bolstered up by consuming two gins and tonic before he arrived home. ‘So, come on,’ she pressed him ‘what are your plans? I thought you would be gone by now, but perhaps the little minx doesn’t want you after all.’

  He had sighed, helping himself to a large Scotch, and returned to the table where he sat waiting for the onslaught. ‘I will be leaving, but we need to sort out some things before I do.’

  ‘Oh, is that right? Now, come on then, why don’t you give me the low down? Do I have any say in anything at all?’ she asked, while surveying him and trying to work out what was going on behind the scene.

  ‘You, of course, can remain in the house,’ he advised her, ‘and I will ensure that you will never want for money at all. But it is inevitable that I will be going. Once we have sorted out a house for us.’

  She rose up, breathing deeply and exhaling her gin fumes which penetrated the space between them. ‘So, are you expecting me to divorce you?’ she enquired.