False Wall

by Veronica Heley

  ‘My dear Malcolm came over from Australia, last week. Trying to sort the boys out, but he’s gone back now. The boys have been refused bail because the arson was such a serious crime, and their fingerprints on the paraffin container clinched the evidence against them. It was proved that they ran up the charges on your phone, but that’s a minor matter, according to the police. Malcolm says he’ll be back for their trial.’

  ‘Ah. I’m sorry, Mona. I know you’d have liked me to drop the charges against the boys, but the arson put so many people’s jobs at risk that I couldn’t.’

  ‘Not to mention their attempt to have your water turned off. No, you were right to stick to your guns. They’ve both been in trouble before and it cost me an arm and a leg to bail them out then. I’d told them that was their last chance—’

  ‘But they didn’t believe you.’

  ‘Malcolm is paying their legal fees. He says that if they get a custodial sentence, which is very possible, he’ll take them back home with him when they’re released.’ Mona took another biscuit. ‘I’ve put on weight. Comfort eating. I’m a bit worried that Australia might not take them back.’

  ‘They have dual-nationality passports?’

  ‘No. Australian.’

  ‘Should be all right, then. There’s a long history of Britain sending convicts over there.’

  ‘True.’

  ‘And …’ Bea felt brave enough to speak of the elephant in the room. ‘Venetia?’

  ‘The Crown Prosecution Service decided they wouldn’t pursue the matter of her “borrowing” your purse and watch as, technically, she’s not been in any trouble before.’

  Bea said, ‘I get it that they can’t prosecute her for trying to trap Leon without evidence, but what about “borrowing” and crashing other people’s cars? Oh, those cases never came to court?’

  Mona winced. ‘I ought not to have bailed her out. I know that now. She’s doing all right for herself. You know she went back to live with her parents? Well, her father introduced her to all the “right” people at the golf club and she’s moved in with a man who’s divorced two wives already. How long that will last, I don’t know.’

  So Venetia got off scot-free? Bea could foresee a career for Venetia in which the girl continued to sell herself in pursuit of a good time … ending in another smashed car? Or perhaps a marriage which would be featured in Hello! magazine, to be followed the next year by divorce …?

  ‘Families,’ said Mona. ‘You worry about them till the day you die.’

  ‘Mm. And, families aren’t just kith and kin. Even extended families aren’t just that. I see less of my own son than I do of Maggie and Dilys and their husbands and children. They’re family, too. Then there’s Oliver, who insists on coming back home frequently under the pretext of seeing if I’m all right and not up to any more shenanigans, but in reality to touch base with the only family he’s ever known. Then everyone at the agency acts as if I’m their foster mother and wants to tell me all their problems. Don’t get me wrong; I like being mother hen, but sometimes I want to be shut of the lot of them.’

  ‘Pelicans,’ said Mona. ‘I don’t know if it’s true but they say that, in a drought, pelican mothers will offer their own blood to their brood to feed them.’

  Bea took another biscuit. ‘And it doesn’t always turn out well. I know. But, you’ve rescued Rollo.’

  ‘He’s a nice lad and I shall enjoy having him around. His parents are delighted not to have to worry about him. I’ve persuaded him that I have enough money to keep him at his private school, provided he settles down to working hard. He’s promised me he will, and I think I believe him. He’s even been doing some work this holidays. I can, almost, believe in a good future for him.’ Mona delved into a back pocket and produced a rather crumpled envelope. ‘Here. Rollo gave it to me last night. He said you’d been so decent to him that he wanted you to have it. You know what’s in it?’

  ‘I do.’ Bea weighed it in her hand. If she handed this over to the police, they could go after Venetia with a vengeance … but also drag Leon into a difficult situation. And, the chain of evidence had been broken not once but several times … from Venetia to Rollo … and from Rollo to Mona … and from Mona to Bea. Which meant that a defence counsel could rip the evidence to pieces.

  ‘I do like a bonfire,’ said Bea. ‘I know we’re not supposed to have them in a built-up area, but it’s good to see the ivy disappear.’ She got up from her chair to poke the envelope into the heart of the bonfire. Flame flared around it for a moment. The envelope blackened and shrivelled away.

  Bea brushed her hands one against the other. ‘Have we finished all the biscuits? I’ll bring a different sort next time, shall I?’