Sins of the Fathers

by Leah Hope

After an exhausting few minutes, the pair arrived in the living room. Bridget lay on the sofa with her injured foot raised up on a cushion. Gil had located ice and paracetamol and both had been administered to the patient, together with a soothing cup of tea.

  “You’d better get off now Gil or you’re going to hit that traffic” Bridget said sipping her tea.

  “You don’t think I’m going to leave you on your own like this do you? No, I’ll ring Maggie and re-arrange things for another time.”

  “Gil, there’s no point in spoiling everyone’s day. Now that my foot’s off the ground, it’s not too bad. I don’t know what I’ll do when the ice melts though. Oh I know, we’ve got some bags of frozen peas in the freezer, perhaps you could get for me before you go.”

  “Well if you’re really sure.”

  “Yes I am, so that’s an end to it. But before you set off, could make me a flask of coffee and a sandwich for my lunch.”

  “Yes of course, but how are you going to get to the loo? I don’t think you should put any weight on that foot.”

  “I’ll manage, I’ve got the stick. Now you sort out my lunch and I’ll give Maggie a call to let her know what’s happened and that you might be a bit later than planned. And Gil, please drive carefully, we don’t want anything happening to you. Things come in threes don’t forget!”

  *

  Gil arrived home just after six full of apologies for being late. He’d rung Bridget as he was setting off from Maggie’s, expecting to be home by five thirty. An accident on the A36 caused a five mile tail-back and all he could do was to fume quietly.

  “Can I get you something to eat Bridge? You must be starving.”

  “In a bit maybe but first of all I really need to get to the loo. I managed it once but it was so painful I couldn’t face it again. I was afraid to drink too much so I’m gasping for a cup of tea more than anything.”

  After Gil had tended to Bridget’s needs, he joined her in the living room to tell her about his day.

  “Maggie was very annoyed that I’d left you on your own, even though I told her it was your idea. I think she forgave me after I’d fixed her dripping bathroom tap before we set off for the kitchen showroom though.”

  “Well you do have your uses, I’ll grant you that. So, did Maggie decide on a kitchen?”

  “Eventually. She just couldn’t make up her mind. I said liked both, which was true, but that didn’t help much apparently. We could have done with you there, I’m sure you’d have been more use. It helped that she had a plan drawn up so once she’d decided which kitchen to go for, all the chap at the shop had to do was to input the details into their computer and voilà, an instant design. Clever piece of kit.”

  “But if Maggie is having two rooms knocked into one, how can she have plans drawn up?”

  “Oh it was something Geoff did for her while she was in France, he used to be a draftsman apparently. Maggie left him a key, under a plant-pot of all places, as he didn’t arrive back from Australia until after she’d left for France. The kitchen bit is staying where it is as all the plumbing and electrics are in place so it makes sense not to move them. I think he just based the design on the existing kitchen, it will need updating of course when the new room is finished but they’ll do for now.”

  “I hope she’s ready for the mess this is going to produce, rather her than me. So did you find somewhere nice for lunch?”

  “We found this really quaint old pub in the next village, good food and good beer too. We both had lamb shanks and I had apple crumble and home-made ice-cream for pudding. Maggie was too full after her lamb for anything else. We got back to her place just in time for a coffee before I had to set off again.”

  “I’m glad you both had a good day. It’s so annoying that I fell down the stairs, I know I would have enjoyed it too.”

  “I’m sure there’ll be another time. In fact I’ve promised Maggie I’d go back one day next week. Her hedge needs trimming and she’s not up to doing it herself at the moment. You could come as well and you two can talk kitchens while I slave away in the garden.”

  “Sounds like a good idea but I’ll wait and see how my ankle is first.”

  “I can leave it until you can walk ok, I don’t think Maggie would mind if I went a few days later. Mind you, the rate that hedge is growing, I might live to regret that.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  By the following Tuesday, Bridget’s ankle had healed enough for her to hobble about, with the aid of her stick. Unfortunately she had by then come down with a heavy cold so it was agreed that for the second time in a week, Gil would go to Bath on his own. Bridget didn’t mind at all, in fact she positively welcomed the thought of Gil and Maggie spending some time alone together. Gil deserved a second chance of happiness she said to herself, and, after what Maggie had been through, lord knows she did too.

  Gil set off early, having put all the tools he would need in the car overnight. Maggie had a hedge trimmer but Gil preferred to use his own as it was more powerful. Gil rang Maggie to let her know what time to expect him, secretly hoping she would have coffee and a pastry ready for him before he started on the hedge. He smiled when Maggie had told him she was just popping out to get some pastries from her favourite bakery in town. He loved it when a plan came together.

  Gil arrived on the outskirts of Bath just after ten. The thought of a sugary confection waiting for him made his stomach start to rumble alarmingly. As he was about to turn into Maggie’s road, the turning that he’s missed on his first visit, he spotted a police helicopter flying low overhead. As he made the turning he was confronted by a police cordon and dozens of police officers, some in riot gear and many of them armed. “What on earth is going on?” Gil said out loud as an armed policeman approached the car.

  “Sorry sir but you’ll have to turn round and park elsewhere I’m afraid. There’s an ongoing incident and we aren’t allowing any vehicles through.”

  “What sort of an incident?”

  “Sorry sir, I can’t give you any details, so if you don’t mind, please turn your vehicle around as quickly as possible. We need urgent access to this area.”

  Gil did as he was told but he suddenly had an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. Suddenly the thought of a pastry had lost its appeal. He parked in the road he had just turned out of and walked back to the police cordon. A group of people, probably residents, had congregated next to the line of blue and white incident tape that had been strung along the width of the road. Several armed officers were manning the barrier in case anyone was tempted to duck under the tape.

  “What’s going on here?” Gil asked a group of elderly women who were looking and pointing down the road.”

  “We think there’s some sort of an incident going on in one of the houses, about a hundred yards away if that group of coppers is anything to go by” replied a woman in a bright red jacket. “We were on our way to a coffee morning at a friend’s house but they won’t let us through. It’s so annoying because Beryl makes such lovely cakes. We take it turns you see and knowing her, she’ll count this as her turn, even if it’s called off. Just my luck, it’s my turn next.”

  Gil decided to distance himself slightly from the reluctant hostess. As he crossed to the other side of the road, he dialled Maggie’s landline. After a few rings it went to voicemail. He didn’t leave a message. She’s probably caught up in all of this her way back from the bakery he thought. But where is she? He narrowed his eyes to see if he could see her car but due to a bend in the road, he couldn’t see as far as Maggie’s bungalow. He rang her mobile, which too, went straight to voicemail. Gil was getting worried now, seriously worried.

  He decided to ring Bridget. Maybe Maggie had been trying to call him, lost his number and rang his sister. He tried to keep the panic out of his voice as explained the situation to Bridget. He asked her to switch on the TV.

  “No, nothing on the BBC but I’ll try the other news channels” she replied as she flicked through them with the
remote. “No, still nothing. But that’s good news isn’t it?”

  “How do you make that out?”

  “Well if it was that serious, they would all be covering it wouldn’t they?”

  “Maybe, or it could be they just haven’t got their news crews in place yet. Keep the TV on Bridge and ring me if there’s any news.”

  Gil nearly jumped out of his skin as a vehicle drove at speed up to the cordon beeping its horn loudly as it did so. A uniformed officer unhooked the tape at one end and the car sped through. As Gil scanned the ever-increasing throng for anyone who remotely looked as if they might know what was going on, his eyes fell on what he hoped might be a reporter. The note-pad and pen in his hands were a bit of a give-away.

  “Excuse me” said Gil to his target, who on close inspection looked as if he should be in school rather than reporting to the nation. His heart sank.

  “I bet you’re going to ask me what this is all about aren’t you?” The young man replied. “Well you’ve asked the right one. Ed Fielding, Bath Bugle” he added, handing Gil his card.

  “Ok Ed, what’s this all about?”

  “Word is it’s a hostage situation. Now that could mean anything of course but probably means some lowlife is threatening his misses with a weapon of some sort. Or it could be international terrorists. That’s what I love about this job, you never quite know what you’re going to find.”

  “If you were a gambling man, where would you put your money?”

  “I’d rule out terrorism. They would have evacuated everyone in the vicinity if it was some nutter with a suicide belt. That leaves a nutter with a kitchen knife or maybe a gun. But my money’s on the knife.”

  “Aren’t you able to get any nearer? Don’t you lot have a press pass or something that would let you through?”

  “I wish, in films maybe, but in reality, we’re kept out of the way just like everyone else. Believe it or not this sort of thing isn’t that uncommon. Nine times out of ten it’s a domestic and the bloke usually gives up when he realizes what a prat he’s made of himself, or when he sobers up, whichever is sooner. So do you live here then?”

  “No, I’m visiting a friend. I’m a bit worried about her as there’s no answer on the landline and she’s not answering her mobile.”

  “I wouldn’t worry too much mate, she’s probably stuck behind the cordon at the other end of the road. I was up there earlier and there was quite a crowd gathering, same as here. That’s probably where she is. Look, if you’re that worried, why not take a walk up? If you go back down this road, there’s a little alleyway that you can cut through and it’ll bring you out the other side of the cordon.”

  “Thanks Ed, I’ll do that.”

  “No worries, I hope you find her.”

  Gil followed Ed’s directions and soon found himself at the police cordon beyond Maggie’s house. He spotted a couple of TV vans parked nearby and suddenly thought about what Bridget had said. Surely they wouldn’t be here if this was merely a “domestic” incident? He looked at the crowd and frantically scanned the sea of faces for Maggie. Nothing. Where the hell is she? He was shouting her name now, ignoring the strange looks he was getting as he pushed his way through the throng. She wasn’t there. He ran his fingers through his hair and reached for his phone. He tried both of Maggie’s numbers again, no response. In desperation he rang Bridget again.

  “Any news?”

  “Hold on Gil, there’s some breaking news that’s just come on. They’re saying there’s a hostage situation at a house in Bath, but they don’t have any further details. I’ll keep watching. Have you been able to find out anything?”

  “No nothing, I’ve called both of Maggie’s numbers, I’ve called her name but there’s no trace of her Bridge. Where the hell can she be? There’s only one place she can be, she’s in that house with that lunatic Collins!”

  “Now Gil, you don’t know that. There could be a dozen explanations. She could have gone to a friend’s house when she couldn’t get back into her own. I bet she’s sitting on a comfy sofa somewhere enjoying a coffee and those pastries you said she’d gone out to get. You just wait and see.”

  “I hadn’t thought of that Bridge, you are a genius! If I’d been thinking clearly instead of panicking I would have realized that Daniel Collins doesn’t even know Maggie or where she lives. What an idiot I am. Listen Bridge, I’m going to ring off now and ask around to see if I can find anyone who may know her. Keep the TV on and ring me if there’s any more news.”

  Gil reckoned that most of the people gathered at the cordon were strangers as none of them had heard of Maggie. Bloody ghouls, he thought to himself. In need of a familiar face, he made his way back to his original position in the hope of finding Ed. Maybe his office will have updated him from their live news feeds.

  “Hi there” said the young reporter as he spotted Gil making his way through the crowd. Did you find your friend?”

  “No but I think she’s probably in a neighbour’s house somewhere, or at least I hope she is. Do you have any more news?”

  “A little. I’ve heard a whisper that a hostage negotiator’s been brought in so I’m guessing there could be a bit more to this than I first thought. I’d still put money on being a domestic situation though, but maybe this particular nutter fancies his chances. He’s probably demanding a private jet to take him to the Costa del Crime and a million or two in used euros” Ed said with a laugh. “Well good luck with that mate!” I hope he gives himself up soon though as I could murder a bacon sarnie.”

  “Me too” said Gil, just remembering that he hadn’t eaten since seven, almost six hours ago. “Is there anywhere around here to get some food? I could go and get us both something if you like.”

  “Not that I know of, but there is a pub just round the corner. Fancy a beer?”

  “Sure, but don’t you want to hang around here, in case something happens?”

  “Nah, I think we’ve got a bit of a wait yet. Besides I can tap into the news feed from my mobile. Come on, I’ll get the first round.”

  The Dog and Duck wasn’t the most salubrious of places but the pie and chips were hot and the beer was cold.

  “So Gil, this friend of yours, girlfriend is she? Sorry, tell me to mind my own, I just can’t resist asking questions. That’s the reporter in me.”

  “No, not at all, she’s, well, um, a friend of a friend I suppose.”

  “Forgive me from saying this Gil but for a “friend of a friend” you seemed mighty worried about her a couple of hours ago.”

  “Well of course I was worried. Wouldn’t you be if a friend of yours was being held hostage by a “nutter”, to use your terminology.”

  “Yes of course, I’m sorry it’s just the…”

  “Yes I know, the reporter in you.”

  “What no you’re wrong actually. What I was going to say was the “investigative journalist” in me. Until then I’m just…”

  “A hack on a two bit rag who doesn’t give a damn as long as there’s a story in it!”

  “Wow Gil, I have feelings you know. Cut me, do I not bleed? I’m only joking mate, I’m under no illusions over my current status. That doesn’t mean I don’t have ambitions though. Big ones actually. All I need is that big break. I know it’s a hackneyed phrase but it’s true. But until it comes along I’m sent out to cover stories like these and try to make them interesting. It’s bloody difficult too when some weeks the best it gets is an octogenarian having a punch-up with a traffic warden. Actually, that was quite a good story, the old guy was a former boxer and the traffic warden was out cold for ten minutes” Ed said with a laugh.

  “That’s not funny, he could have been killed!”

  “But he wasn’t and I wouldn’t be laughing about it if he had been. I’m not completely insensitive. So going back to your friend, why were you so afraid that it was her that was being held hostage? What’s her name by the way, I can’t keep referring to her as “your friend” all the time.”

  �
�It’s Maggie.”

  “Pretty name. Pretty woman?”

  Gil ignored him and carried on. “A few weeks ago, Maggie was shot while she was sitting in my car on the drive at home…”

  Ed nearly choked on his lager. “Whoa, whoa, whoa Gil, alarm bells are going off in my head, slow down. You don’t mean to tell me your Maggie is that Maggie?”

  “I don’t know, you tell me. But yes, she was in the papers, your paper too probably, so you should know all about it.”

  Ed was now frantically punching the keys on his phone and at the same time scribbling something in shorthand in his notebook.

  “Gil, I want you to tell me everything about Maggie and the shooting. I promise I won’t publish a word of what you tell me without your permission. But, if this is as big as I think it is, we could both make a lot of money.”

  “There you go again! I’m not interested in making money out of a friend. What sort of a person do you think I am? Besides, it will be Maggie’s decision, not mine to give you an interview. I’ll give you some factual information but that’s it.”

  “Ok Gil, I understand. I promise, you have my word.”

  After Gil had given Ed a brief account of the shooting, Ed looked puzzled. “So the chances are that it is Daniel Collins that has Maggie held hostage but for the life of me I can’t think why. Like you say, he doesn’t know Maggie or where she lives, as far as you know. I’m going to play devil’s advocate here for a moment Gil so please don’t get upset. You say you’ve known her for, what, less than two months? Now how well can you really get to know someone in that time. They say we all have a skeleton or two in the closet, so maybe Dan Collins is Maggie’s?”

  “I hear what you’re saying but you couldn’t be further from the truth. Maggie was quizzed at length after she was shot and she was as mystified as all of us as to why she was targeted. Dan Collins is linked to my family as I’ve explained, not hers. He mistook Maggie for Bridget, they’re quite similar in looks, so why go after Maggie now? It doesn’t make any sense at all.”