SNATCHED BAIRN: Scottish Fiction

by Anne Bone

  ‘Well, eventually I would hope so,’ he answered, examining her face to try and see where this was going. It was just as if they were circling each other, like animals unsure of who was going to attack first, and ready to defend.

  ‘I can tell you now, Marcus, there will be no divorce. I have no intention of divorcing you and dragging your dirty little affair into the open so that all of Aberdeen knows how you have duped me. So, given that you would not have any reason to divorce me, the balls are in my court.’ She filled her glass again, and her face twisted into a snarling smile.

  ‘That’s right, Veronica, you haven’t given me any reason to divorce you, and the ball is in your court. In terms of a divorce, that is, but that won’t stop me from leaving. Jenni’s not looking for marriage.’

  ‘I bet she’s not,’ she retorted, ‘she only wants someone else’s husband. There is just one thing I need to remind you of,’ she took a swallow, and her eyes glittered, ‘I still have the document that you signed admitting your involvement in a certain bank raid. If you leave me then, Marcus, I swear I will reveal your secret.’ He balked. That damn document. He wished he had insisted that she had destroyed it. He wouldn’t show her that he was rankled, but stood and smiled sweetly at her. ‘I shouldn’t concern yourself about that. It wouldn’t hold water: my lawyer would drive holes through it. It would be argued that it was just a ruse by your deceased father to try and punish me for something. After all, he isn’t here any longer is he, to give evidence, unless he does so from the other side? So, don’t think that will stop me.’ He left her with those words ringing in the air.

  He knew that she would have the document hidden somewhere in the house, and although he believed that any lawyer would be able to drive a hole through it, he didn’t want it to come to that. It could stir things up and he didn’t want the police getting involved, looking into his business. He would wait, but he would still go when the time came.

  Chapter 26

  September 1985

  The few months following Veronica’s discovery had been hard for both Jenni and Marcus. He had continued with his plan to try and persuade her to consider moving to the house that he had purchased. It was a new house built just outside of the city overlooking the sea. She had loved it when they had viewed it; it was very modern with four bedrooms. The kitchen was fitted out with the latest built-in appliances, and the large lounge situated on the first floor had a huge picture window that looked out to sea. It would be dramatic to watch the North Sea froth and throw its weight over the rocks during a storm. Jenni was taken with the whole house, it was so lovely, the master bedroom spacious with its own en-suite, with the other three large bedrooms looking out over the large garden. It was set in its own grounds and cost a fortune, but Marcus had informed her that she didn’t need to concern herself about the cost, there was plenty of money.

  She had agreed at last that once they returned from their anniversary avoidance break, she would move in to the house. She had, over the past few weeks, spent more time there and insisted that she would paint the walls and chose the colours. He wanted to employ a decorator but she wouldn’t have it. She found that on the days when she was painting the walls she could lose herself in the task. It allowed her a certain sense of taking control of her life and, while at times this could disappear as quickly as it came, she wanted and needed it.

  It was now just two weeks before the anniversary and she forced herself to drive to the house every day. Each time she felt as though the house would in some way act as a place where she would find some future peace. Maybe it was because it was so close to the sea; listening to the waves beating against the rocks provided a rhythm that was older than time.

  The furniture had started to arrive, all picked from catalogues. Marcus found this particularly strange, as he had suggested that she could go into E&M or Fraser and pick whatever she wanted. She had explained that going into large shops in Aberdeen was just too difficult for her; she wasn’t comfortable doing so. They never went out together in Aberdeen, although she suspected that this might change once they were actually living together. They agreed though that neither would flaunt their relationship. They didn’t wish to embarrass either Veronica or Tom any more than necessary. Their relationship had never been a public one and, while they would no longer hide away, neither got much pleasure from going out for nights out. They didn’t need it, as they found that just spending time together was enough. Being quiet, sharing silences, lost in their own thoughts while just sitting next to each other met their needs. It was the cornerstone of them.

  As she looked around her, she realised that she did feel a sense of ownership of the house, a home that she was creating. It would have been so special if it was a home that included a room for Mary. She had it in the back of her mind that she may feel at some point able to transport Mary’s bedroom contents to one of the spare rooms. This would mean taking every small item and placing it to try and reproduce an exact mirror of her room in the flat. Marcus hadn’t outwardly refused, but had suggested that it may not be the best thing to do. Until then the flat in Treeside Road would remain her link and she could, he had told her, go and visit every day if that helped her.

  Beth Paton was going to call on her today in the new house. She had been to see it when Marcus first purchased it, but before Jenni had put her mark on it. Jenni was looking out for her, and when she heard her car pull into the drive, she rushed out to welcome her friend. ‘Come away in, Beth, it is good to see you. I have the kettle boiling.’

  Beth got out of the car and couldn’t help being blown about by the sea breeze, but equally she was blown away by the view. She lived in a house overlooking the harbour so, while it was beside the sea, it was a different view. Hers was busy with boats and ships going up and down the harbour all day, whereas this view was peaceful, although she could imagine that during the winter months it would be dramatic.

  She followed Jenni in through the door where she entered the large shiny kitchen, its granite units gleaming as the sun filtered through the large window. She looked around her; it was like a kitchen you would see in one of those glossy magazines. Perfect, so unlike her own, and not one, if she was honest, she would choose for herself. Nevertheless, it was good to see Jenni and to see her with some animation in her face, rather than the many times she had met her when she was almost catatonic.

  ‘Well, look at this,’ she declared, ‘it is amazing. I love the colour you’ve painted the walls, it’s lovely. What a good job you’ve done.’

  ‘Wait until you see the rest of the place,’ she told her friend. ‘Do you want a tour before the tea or afterwards?’

  ‘Now, of course,’ laughed Beth, ‘I can’t wait.’ As she followed her friend around the large house she couldn’t help but be impressed. Each room was painted a different colour, bringing life into the unlived in house. The lounge was glorious, and with the now new furniture in place, it definitely looked like a show house waiting for the occupants to take up residence. Even though everywhere was all new and shiny, there was a sense that it would be a home that would welcome whoever entered the door.

  It was when they toured the bedrooms that one of the surprises took her breath away. Jenni opened the door and revealed a still empty room, the walls painted a pale shade of pink. ‘I know you will think I am completely mad,’ she told her friend as she walked into the middle of the empty room, ‘but this is Mary’s room.’

  ‘Oh,’ replied Beth, who was searching for words to reply, words that wouldn’t seem to be insensitive. ‘Well, it’s a lovely shade of pink,’ was all that she could come up with. She waited to see whether her friend would elaborate on what she meant.

  ‘You see, at some point, I want to bring all of Mary’s bedroom stuff over here.’ She glanced at her friend to see whether she could read her face. ‘Do you think that I am completely mad?’ she asked.

  ‘No, of course not, you have to do whatever you have to do. I have said before there are no rules to grieving,
but what does Marcus think?’

  ‘He hasn’t said much, apart from suggesting that maybe I should wait a while. I think he is hoping that I will get to a point where I can get rid of her things, but you know Beth, that day will never come. Never!’

  ‘So you are going to keep the flat on then, is that still the plan?’

  ‘Yes. I suppose I am lucky that I can do that. It gives me a chance to get used to being here, and I can go and spend time there until I do.’ They left the empty bedroom and returned to the sunny kitchen where she made a pot of tea and placed it on the large oak dining table that sat in the corner of the large room. She poured each of them a mug of tea and offered a piece of shortbread to her friend.

  ‘How are you feeling about the anniversary?’ Beth enquired. She was only one of a handful of people in the world who was able to ask this question and know that Jenni would not run a mile.

  ‘I think I am blanking it a bit. Marcus was right to suggest that we go away, although to tell you the truth while I am sort of looking forward to going to Thailand, most of me is just wishing I could flip the calendar a month ahead to just get through the next few weeks. I can’t help but feel sick when I think it is almost a year since my little girl filled my life, now she only fills my memories.’ She stood and walked across the room to where a box of tissues sat and grabbed a couple, dabbing her eyes as she returned to the table. ‘Mary would have loved this house; I can see her in my mind’s eye running about the garden, shouting when she spots a ship out there. She is in my head always, I miss her so much.’ With these words the flood gates opened and she sobbed.

  Beth reached over and patted her hand. ‘There isn’t anything I can say to make it better, my love. I am not going to say that you will get over it; I know she will be in your mind forever. How does Marcus feel about the anniversary?’

  ‘Oh, you know Marcus, he’s not someone who talks about feelings, but I know he feels bad. Mostly he regrets not ever telling Mary he was her dad, and missing out on spending time with her. He had boys you see, and so he didn’t really know how to be around a little girl. He lost his chance and he feels sad about that.’

  Beth was really Jenni’s only confidante and the only one who knew the whole background story of their relationship. She was also one of the few people who were aware that he was about to leave his marriage and set up home with Jenni, and she wouldn’t judge. This girl sitting opposite her had been through hell and back, and if anyone deserved some happiness then it was she.

  Jenni went on to tell her friend the details of their forthcoming trip to Thailand; she refused to call it a holiday, as in her mind she could never seek pleasure when the reason for going was to try and avoid the pain. ‘When he leaves for our trip, he will be leaving Veronica for good, `cause when we come back then we will be living here.’

  ‘And does she know?’

  ‘She knows he is going away for a break, but to tell you the truth I am not absolutely sure whether she believes he won’t be going back.’ She blew her nose, ‘And after her go at me, I am no longer feeling guilty.’ She remembered the day a few weeks ago when she had answered the doorbell of the flat to find Veronica on her doorstep. She hadn’t met her before, but she knew it was her from the photographs that often appeared in the Press and Journal, the local newspaper that reported on charity functions. She wasn’t left with a choice other than admit her to the flat. Veronica looked fierce and gazed around the flat as she followed her nemesis into the sitting room. Jenni had invited her to sit and sat across the room waiting. The outburst when it had been released had been fierce. She had asked her if she knew what she was doing getting involved with a man such as Marcus. She advised that the only reason he wanted her was because of her age, and no doubt the sex. She told her that he would never be faithful to her and would stray again, as he had done throughout their marriage, how she would ensure he was fleeced, and that if she thought she would become a rich woman then she wouldn’t.

  Jenni had said nothing, but listened. The woman had arrived for a fight, but she wasn’t going to retaliate. In her mind she deserved this onslaught from the woman who had been kept in the dark about her husband’s long-term relationship until a few months ago. She had continued to slate Marcus, implying that he was not only an out and out philanderer, but could not be trusted in his business dealings either. He has, she told her, a very shifty background. She even suggested that he had dealings with gangs that were dangerous.

  When she had finished the outpouring of anger, there was silence. Jenni just looked at her and waited. She knew that there was no discussion to be had, and when Veronica realised that this girl was not going to engage with her, she stood up, drew herself to her full height and threw a final, ‘He’ll never stay with you, plainly he just feels pity and guilt about the child’. With that she left, letting herself out of the flat, the slamming of the front door causing it to reverberate around the building. Jenni had sunk down then, her body shaking as she curled up in a ball on the sofa. The confrontation was over; she understood the woman’s fury and anger and sensed the despair that was underneath the words. She knew that if she had defended herself or Marcus that the woman would have enjoyed a slanging match, but she hadn’t given her that chance. It would have been hard to defend herself given she was guilty as charged, but, actually, the episode had been cathartic, she had often imagined what would happen if she had come face to face with Veronica, and now she had, and she had come out of it with her integrity intact.

  Beth took her leave after they had finished a second mug of tea. They had had some discussion about the Stolen Children Trust, and how Jenni would be willing to help out setting up the new office once she returned from her trip. The Trust had recently secured a grant and, with the fundraising that the new Friends of the Stolen Children Trust had raised, Beth was now in a position to rent a small suite of offices in Torry, where they could set up their helpline. It would mean that the spare room of their family house could return to being the spare room instead of Trust headquarters. The two women parted with a long hug, with Beth telling her friend to try and enjoy her forthcoming trip.

  Jenni watched her friend drive away, waving until she went out of sight. Thank goodness for Beth, she thought, she was not sure how she would have survived the past few months without her support. She had become such a genuine friend, and she would be happy to help her in the future. She only wished that she hadn’t had to know Beth through the circumstances of losing her Mary.

  I am in a new room and it is much nicer than my old room. I have found out what Uncle Don was doing, he was making a room for me. It is not a secret room but a proper room with two small windows up in the ceiling. I still can’t see outside, but I can see the sky and it’s lovely. I hadn’t realised how nice it would be to see clouds. I lie down on my bed and watch the clouds passing overhead, and I wonder whether these will be the same clouds that will glide over Aberdeen. Sometimes they are small and floating, and other times they are thick and dark and seem to have got stuck. There are times when the sky is deep blue, and other times it is grey, I don’t care what colour it is, I can see it and it makes me feel less alone. I also love it when it rains; I can hear the rain beating down on the roof and when it hits it, it runs down the little windows like small rivers. I never thought I would like it when it rains but I do. I no longer get wet in the rain as I still can’t go outside, but now the outside has brightened my world just by seeing it. Night is the best of all, because on a clear night I can see the moon and the stars. I dream about the stars and wonder whether there are any people living on them. I make up stories in my head about a space ship coming from one of the stars and landing by the house and taking me away to live on the star. I think it might be better than staying with Uncle Don.

  My new room is bigger: there is a bed, two bookcases – I need two as I have so many books now, and there is enough room for my puzzles too. I think Uncle Don built the bookcases and they are strong and painted white. There are lots o
f shelves and as well as my old books there are new ones too. I have a blue chair with wooden arms and two soft cushions. It is comfy, so I don’t have to lie on my bed all of the time. There is a small table and a stool as well. I still have the camping potty, as my door still gets locked. I don’t know why it is still locked, as I know the rules and stay in my room when I am told to. There would be nowhere to go anyway as I know the outside door is locked as well.

  I wonder sometimes whether I will have to stay in the room until I am old and grey. But then Uncle Don would be very, very old, and so maybe then I will have to look after him. That would mean that I could then go outside, surely, or else how would we get enough food to eat. I know Uncle Don goes out to get food sometimes, and on those times then I have to stay in my room for a longer time. I can hear him come and go now. My new room means I can hear things, whereas in my old one I couldn’t hear anything at all. He always gives me my sandwiches in my room and tells me not to eat them straight away, but to wait until I am hungry. I hear him now walking about the house. He keeps his own bedroom locked too, it’s the room opposite mine and I can hear him unlock the door at nights. All the rooms in this house have keys and are locked. At me mam’s flat the only keys we had were the ones to the outside doors; we didn’t have any locks on doors inside the flat. But then there are lots of differences between my new home and my old one. I know which one I prefer, but my old one has gone forever.

  Chapter 27

  September Aberdeen

  Veronica paced the floor of her bedroom; she had searched high and low and couldn’t find the document. She had thought it safely hidden, but it would seem that the bastard had found it. She had no idea how, but it was not anywhere to be found. So her final weapon had been removed from her and now there was nothing left.

  She knew that he was packing; he had informed her that he was leaving and it appeared that this was taking place as she paced. He had been moving his things slowly over the past few weeks. She noticed that there were fewer clothes hanging in his wardrobe, fewer shoes in the cupboard, but last week a van had arrived with two men. He had shown them into his study and they had not only loaded his filing cabinet, desk and chair into the back of the van, but his sofa and paintings from the wall. When they had finished, the room was just about empty and to her mind it was the final sign that he was going to go.