02 - Flight of Fancy (9 page)

“Do you feel left behind,
colonel?”

The colonel shook his head
sadly.

“I don’t know, just seems the
world has changed so much… I really do miss Flo and Goddard. They were like
rocks in a heavy sea. You could cling to them even while everything about you
was in turmoil and change. These last thirty years have shook us all and
nothing seems the same as when I was a lad. Not that I don’t think we can stay
the same or that all change is bad, but it is a touch frightening, that’s all.
And that last war…” The colonel shuddered, “I hope I never have to go through a
thing like that again.”

“As do we all.” Clara concurred
whole-heartedly, “But what was it you called me here for?”

The colonel moved in his seat
uncomfortably, pulled a cushion away and then replaced it with another. After
an endless amount of faffing about, he seemed to settle and prepare himself to
speak.

“Goddard was a good friend, but
he was older than me and you can’t expect a man of his age to confide his secrets
in a lad, even once I was in uniform and pushing through the ranks. Goddard was
secretive, I think that is the way to describe it. He certainly had done things
he would not talk about and you had the impression that he thought things he
would never dare speak. He was not wicked or mean, or any of those other things
that are associated with secretive people, but he was extremely quiet and you
had the feeling that was not natural for him. As if he was pointedly quiet
because he feared what might happen if he did open his mouth.

“I told you he talked about the
Boer war to me? Always the same stories, a handful of accounts, but I knew there
was more, so much more, he just never chose to tell me them. That is what I
mean about him being secretive and quiet. He kept himself locked away. I think
deep down he was a man who hurt a lot, who ached inside and couldn’t feel the
love others around him tried to show him. I’ve seen a lot of young men like
that since the war, it is what has made me reflect on my old friend. I see him
in a new light. I think he was scarred.”

The colonel jostled the
cushions again, it seemed to help him to overcome his reticence.

“Goddard was not easy to love.
I said I would be honest and there it is. Flo was remarkable to stick with him.
He wasn’t aggressive, or cruel. I never knew a man less inclined to violence of
any description, I think that was an after-effect of the Boer conflict, but if
he had few negatives he also had few positives. You couldn’t talk about deep
matters with Goddard, he never spoke of his feelings. If you asked him what
something meant to him, it was generally greeted with a shrug and silence, no
matter if you were discussing a painting or the death of a loved one. Some days
I just wanted to stare into his eyes and catch a glimpse of the soul within,
otherwise I at times felt I was talking to nothing more than an automaton
programmed with facts and figures about historic battles.

“I never saw him kiss his wife.
Nor touch her. I know some men are like that, never an inch of emotion shown in
company, but I doubt he was different when they were alone. I don’t suppose
Flo’s demeanour helped. It’s why they never had children, you know, they both
could have, but they never…” The colonel faltered, “Goddard admitted it to me
once when we had both drunk a little too much. One of the rare times he stepped
out of his self-imposed silence. He regretted it of course and was even more
conservative in his speech the next time we met. I thought nothing would ever
change that, then Susan O’Harris waltzed into our lives.”

“Susan O’Harris? Captain
O’Harris’ mother?”

“Yes, Susan. Married Oscar
O’Harris around 1880. He was a good deal younger than Goddard and as different
from his brother as can be. Oscar was a laugh, but he was also impetuous and
quick to anger. I found him a little too forceful after the reserve of Goddard,
not that I knew him until after the heat had died down from his marriage to
Susan.”

“Yes, it was somewhat of a
scandal, I believe?”

“Susan was an actress, now that
can mean a lot of things, but I am confident in her case it was a genuine
career with no side-lighting in other occupations, if you understand what I
mean?”

“I do.” Clara nodded, she was
well aware that many a woman of ill-repute termed herself an actress to
side-step notoriety.

“She was in the music halls.
Singer. Dancer. Nothing special, all the bit parts, but she earned a living and
that was what mattered. Susan loved performing, she would sing her heart out if
you asked and she
could
sing. I always thought it a shame she was so
ignored, some of these fine lady singers we have today do not have a thing on
Susan, but I suppose I am biased. We were all a little in love with her, you
see.

“I think it was 1883 or 1884
she appeared with Oscar at the old house. It had been arranged, nothing out of
the blue about it like some say. Admittedly Oscar was down on his luck and
hoping to negotiate an allowance off his older brother. Susan was vivacious,
she sparkled. She entered the house like a ray of light. It was before the time
of movies, but she could have been one of those stars on the screen. She just
radiated life and energy. She was around my age, don’t forget, and I fell in
love the instant I saw her. I wanted to whisk her off that instant. I made all
sorts of ridiculous plans in my mind for taking her with me to India where I
was due to be based soon. I could picture her in a native sari, lounging about
my grand house in the heat of the Indian sun. Of course, I never had the guts
to speak to her.

“Next to her we all felt a
little… drab. Even Flo seemed affected. Susan was a vision, but Oscar, well, he
looked a little worn about the edges. Poverty doesn’t come easy to a man used
to money. From what I gathered they had been living off Susan’s earnings the
last three years and it had been a struggle.

“Their visit was not an easy
one. Oscar and Goddard argued, it was all about money. Oscar wanted his
fair-share of the inheritance their father had left, but Goddard was reluctant
to just hand it over. I think he doubted his brother would look after it
wisely. He preferred the idea of giving him a set amount each year, but that
made Oscar feel tied to him. Every day they retired to the office after lunch
and every day they argued. I had never heard Goddard raise his voice before
then.”

The colonel shifted
uncomfortably in his seat. Clearly speaking like this of his friend was far
from easy.

“Had it always been a fiery
relationship?” Clara asked gently.

“I cannot tell you.” The
colonel shook his head, “Perhaps it was because Goddard was older.”

“Perhaps.”

“Anyway, these arguments went
on and on. I was around quite a lot just then on leave and I could hear the
whole calamity. Flo looked utterly morbid about it, clammed right up and barely
uttered a word. The only person I had to talk to was Susan.” The colonel gave a
sad smile, “Now she
was
a talker. Her words could soothe a lion, they
dripped like champagne from her tongue. I honestly thought I was in love with
her, I thought she was the only woman I could ever love after that, and, of
course, in the end, it was her who secured Oscar’s money.”

The colonel glanced aimlessly
at the clock in the room, letting the time tick by as the memory of those long
ago days played before his eyes.

“Is this the matter you wished
to discuss? Money troubles with Oscar?” Clara gave him a mental nudge when a
minute had ticked by.

“No.” The colonel took his eyes
off the clock reluctantly, “No, it was more serious than that.”

Clara settled back for further
revelations.

“You see, at the time I never
could quite fathom how Susan did it, how she persuaded old Goddard to climb off
his high horse and virtually roll over backwards for his brother. I think Flo
was baffled too, but we both supposed she had laid on the charm pretty thick
and Goddard had felt sorry for her. It didn’t even occur to me…” The colonel
closed his eyes and grimaced, “I’ve lain awake thinking about what I must tell
you, it goes against the grain. I was loyal to Goddard, always loyal, and I
swore to guard his secrets to my very grave.”

“Did he have many secrets that
needed guarding?”

“Maybe. But I only ever knew a
handful, and I never saw a problem in exerting my duty over them until now.”
The colonel rubbed at his chest, “All this nonsense has given me the most
dreadful indigestion.”

“I am sorry to put you through
this colonel, but I think you would feel better if you told me. Obviously it
must be important.”

“That damn Susan.” Brandt shook
his head again, “She was a harpy and we never realised it. She stood in our
midst looking like an angel when deep down she was a devil playing her own
game. I’ve thought some things about her since that first meeting and since I
saw through her disguise. Did she marry Oscar expecting money? Oh, I think she
did, and was it her who persuaded him to go see his brother? Yes, I think that
is true too. And she presented herself to us as nothing more than a harmless
innocent, but I see now she was really an evil creature at heart.”

“What did she do colonel?”
Clara wondered what could have changed the colonel’s mind so firmly.

“She seduced Goddard!” The
colonel suddenly snapped, surprising them both, “I know, I know we talk of
restraint, but she was different. Anyone she threw herself at faltered. You
know the charm young O’Harris has? Well imagine that in female form along with
a soul completely devoid of moral fibre. That is how she got her money. She
seduced Goddard and held the shame over his head until he promised to give
Oscar his money. She would have told Flo otherwise, Goddard explained that to
me himself. He was so guilty about it all, he had never been unfaithful to Flo
despite their awkwardness. Then there was the matter of his inability to…”

The colonel stood up and began
to pace.

“A man’s private life should be
private!” He stormily said to no one in particular.

“May I interpret what you were
going to say for you?” Clara offered.

Colonel Brandt looked at her
apologetically.

“He could not make love to his
wife.” He said before Clara could offer her opinion, “I have to say it for you
to understand. He could not make love to his wife, but he could make love to
that harlot. Do you see the shame and guilt that made him feel? And if poor Flo
ever knew it would destroy her. I don’t think any man could feel so sickened by
his infidelities as Goddard.”

“Yet, there is no motive for a
crime if no one, aside from yourself, knew of this matter.” Clara pointed out
delicately.

“Oh Miss Fitzgerald, if only
that were so. But the harpy told her husband. Not immediately mind, no, this
was on her death bed. A guilty soul confessing before she met with her maker.”

“When did Susan O’Harris die?”

“1900. John was fifteen.” The
colonel slumped back down on the sofa, “She had no other children, you know. Oscar
was sterile, so the doctors said. He called John a miracle and mocked the
medical men who had told him he could never be a father. That harpy couldn’t
even allow the poor man that consolation. She told him that his son was in fact
his nephew and that Goddard O’Harris was John’s father.”

Clara let the revelation sink
in. It explained a thing or two, including Goddard’s increasing interest in his
nephew’s life and achievements. Perhaps it even explained the kindness shown by
Florence O’Harris, the woman who appeared cold but in fact could care
extraordinarily deeply about others.

“Does Captain O’Harris know?”

Brandt shook his head.

“Goddard told me after he
received a letter from Susan telling him what she had done. It was the last
thing she ever wrote. Whether he told Florence I don’t know, but no one ever
told John. I have no idea if Goddard ever spoke to his brother Oscar after
that.”

“But Oscar was dead by 1908, so
he could not take revenge, if that is what you are implying. You realise you
have cast Florence even more into the role of potential murderess?”

“I know, I know.” Brandt
clutched his head in his hands, “But I knew I had to tell you. I had to give
you the facts else you could never solve this matter.”

“I appreciate that.” Clara
said, reaching over to touch the old colonel’s hand, “It is never easy to talk
about these things.”

“If Susan O’Harris had been
alive in 1908 I would have handed her head on a platter to you as a killer. She
was a demon if ever I saw one. She killed them all with her wickedness. She had
the markings of a murderess, not dear Flo.”

“I am afraid not everything is so
clear cut.” Clara sighed.

“Thank you for coming Miss
Fitzgerald, I’m sure eventually I shall feel I did the right thing telling you
all this.”
“I can assure you, you did.”

“If you don’t mind, I think I
shall retire to my home.” The colonel stood stiffly, “I could do with a rest.”

Clara nodded.

“Take care Colonel Brandt.”

“You too, my dear, and, if
possible, find out the truth about Goddard’s death.”

“I shall certainly try.”

Arriving at home Clara found
her thoughts turning to a warm cup of tea and a chance to sit down quietly and
muse on everything she had been told. She entered the house and made her way to
the kitchen, intending to disturb the household as little as possible, but
found Annie there cleaning pots.

“Annie? Surely this is your
afternoon off?”

“The pots needed scrubbing.”

Clara glanced at the neat lines
of copper pots along the walls, most were unused these days and certainly did
not require the intense cleaning Annie was now giving them.

“I thought I would make myself
a cup of tea, shall I make you one.” Clara said, carefully snatching up the big
metal kettle before Annie could protest and insist on making it herself.