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Authors: Anthea Fraser

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BOOK: Brought to Book
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‘It was more complicated than that. She'd had a very bad time with the first child, and was told categorically that she must never have any more. She was a Catholic, incidentally – though one has to say an ambivalent one. In other words, though she refused to take precautions herself, she'd no objection to her partner doing so. And Scott, like a dutiful husband, had the snip.'

‘Oh, God.'

‘Yes. He was totally distraught when she told him, and all for suing the surgeon who performed the operation. But he'd been warned at the time it wasn't one hundred per cent safe, which is why he also used a condom.'

‘And Theo didn't?'

‘The old story; there was one solitary occasion when events overtook them. When Sheena told him about the baby it came as a total shock; not so much the pregnancy, but the danger it posed to her, which he'd known nothing about. He says she was in a dreadful state – simply terrified. Nevertheless – and this is where her Catholicism reasserted itself – she refused point-blank to have an abortion. Theo, Scott and her doctor did all they could to persuade her, arguing among other things that she had one child, and she owed it to him not to endanger her life; that the new baby was only the size of a pin-head or whatever, and wouldn't suffer. But she was adamant. She told Theo privately that it was a punishment for what she'd done, and she wouldn't inflict it on her unborn child.

‘In fact, she was on a full-scale guilt trip. It seemed that despite her shenanigans she still loved her husband, and it tore her apart to see him blaming himself for her condition. But she reckoned, conveniently, I couldn't help feeling, that it would hurt him more to know about her affair.

‘Somehow or other, throughout all this old Theo was keeping on schedule with his book, and finished it at the beginning of May as usual. After which, of course, he'd no excuse to go back to the cottage. At first he kept in regular touch with Sheena, but this proved increasingly difficult with Meriel around, added to which he found the calls more and more distressing, since she spent most of them in tears. She told him Scott had been all for ditching the last of his sabbatical and returning to their own doctor in Edinburgh. She'd managed to dissuade him, pointing out that the baby wasn't due till December and she was keeping well. Her real reason for staying, though, was that Theo would be back in Spindlebury in August, and they'd have a few weeks together before she had to leave for Scotland.'

‘So when he went back to the cottage, he was expecting her to come over as usual,' Rona said softly.

‘Yes. When she didn't turn up, he repeatedly tried her mobile, but it was switched off. Then, during that week, Meriel forwarded a letter from Scott, saying baldly that Sheena had suffered a miscarriage, there'd been complications, and she'd died on the operating table.'

Neither of them spoke. Outside the car window, traffic streamed by. A spatter of rain rattled on the windows. They stopped at some traffic lights. Continued again. And Max said quietly, ‘Theo thought he'd killed her. God, Rona, those passages in the diary were hard to take.'

‘She killed herself,' Rona said flatly. ‘How could she have let it happen? She knew what the consequences could be – Theo didn't. What a tragedy, though. She didn't just end the affair, as we'd thought; she actually died.'

‘The fact remains, though, that all this happened six years before Theo's death. In the meantime, he had his block, recovered from it, commandeered Nelson's manuscripts, and scooped the prizes. I honestly don't see how it could have had any bearing on his death. We're back to square one on that.'

They were approaching the outskirts of Marsborough. ‘What's this Mackintosh fellow like?' Max asked.

‘A bit distant. Rather full of himself.'

‘Did you see his son?'

‘No, there was no sign of him. He must be eight or nine now.'

‘Did Scott speak of him?'

‘No, and he never mentioned Sheena, either. I gave him a tentative opening, and he shut it firmly in my face. I have to say I'm glad I didn't know all this when I met him.'

‘Will you tell Meriel?'

Rona thought for a moment. ‘I don't think so. Not yet, anyway. I'll have to tell her about the books, and that's enough of a shock for now. The other's much more personal; I'm not even sure she realized Theo was continuing to see other women, let alone developing the passion of a lifetime. Max, before we go home, can we call in at Camellia's? I'd like to get that over.'

‘OK, but I don't hold out much hope.'

Camellia was not the small florist in Fullers Walk that she passed nearly every day, but a larger and more imposing one down the west end of Guild Street. Max slid seamlessly into a space that had five minutes left on the meter.

‘That should do us,' he said with satisfaction.

As it happened, the shop was able to give them quite a lot of information on the sender of the wreath, but it was not what they were expecting. It had been ordered the previous afternoon by a schoolgirl of about fourteen, who had given specific instructions. The wreath, composed of white lilies and roses, was to be delivered that evening without fail to Miss Rona Parish at the Glenavon Hotel, Edinburgh. She had looked through the rack of printed cards, picked out the one she wanted, and asked if it would be available at the Edinburgh shop. She was assured that it would. The assistant particularly remembered her because she had seemed nervous and also because there was to be no name or personal message on the card. She was insistent that it be delivered that evening, and paid an additional sum to ensure that.

‘What time did she come in?' Max asked.

‘Just before we closed. Margie wasn't too pleased to be fiddling around with a priority order at that time of day.'

‘I presume she paid by cash?'

‘That's right, sir.'

‘You say she was a schoolgirl; was she in uniform?'

‘Well, no, but she'd have had time to change after school.'

No hope, then, of tying down which school she belonged to. They thanked the assistant and returned to the car.

‘What do you make of that?' Rona asked in bewilderment.

‘I'd say our man, whoever he is, waylaid her and asked her to do him a favour, making it well worth her while. Probably told her some sob story about his mother dying, or something. He'd know we'd be making enquiries.'

‘But how did he know where I was? The wreath must have been ordered within minutes of my arriving at the hotel.'

‘That,' observed Max, turning into Dean's Crescent North, ‘is for us to discover.'

Fourteen

T
he phone was ringing as they opened the door of Farthings, and Rona picked it up to find her mother on the line.

‘I've been trying to get you for hours!' Avril burst out. ‘Where have you
been
? Why aren't you at home?'

‘Calm down, Mum – you've found me now. What's the matter?'

‘It's your father. He's had a heart attack.'

Rona went still. ‘Is he all right?'

‘Of course he's not all right! God! He's got so many wires and tubes attached to him, he looks like something out of
Star Trek
.'

‘When did this happen?'

‘At seven this morning, as he was getting up to make the tea. He just clutched his chest and fell to the floor. It was – Rona, I can't tell you how frightened I was.'

‘I can imagine. Did the doctor come straight away?'

‘Yes; he must have called an ambulance before leaving, because it arrived only minutes after him. I'd barely time to throw some clothes on; I daren't leave him, even for a minute, in case he died when I wasn't there.'

Rona's eyes filled. ‘Oh, Mum.'

‘I phoned you and Lindsey as soon as I got to the hospital, and couldn't get either of you. It was like a nightmare.'

A fraction of anxiety switched from her father to her sister. ‘Is Lindsey there now?'

‘No, but she's on her way, having finally picked up my messages. Rona, I've been out of my mind with worry, all alone here for hours on end! I tried you at home, and at Max's, and on your mobile. I couldn't think where
either
of you could be.'

Rona could hear her weeping softly. From the corner of her eye, she noticed the red light blinking in confirmation beside the answer-phone.

‘I'm so sorry, Mum; I was up in Scotland last night and I've only just got back. I had to turn my mobile off on the plane and forgot to switch it back on, and I suppose Max would have been driving to the airport to meet me. Don't worry, we'll be with you in ten minutes.'

‘It's the intensive care unit,' Avril said. ‘Please hurry.'

Numbly, Rona replaced the phone and turned to Max, who'd been standing silently beside her. ‘All right, darling, I heard; we'll go straight over. No saying how long we'll be, so I'll leave a key with Lesley at the vet's and ask her to look in on Gus. I'm sure she won't mind, she's very fond of him. You get in the car – I'll only be a moment.'

Stepping past her overnight bag, Rona went back outside, the morning seeming suddenly darker. Make him be all right. Make him be all
right. Why
hadn't she gone round on her return from Spindlebury? Lindsey had said he wasn't too good. Oh Pops, don't die!

Max slid silently in beside her, and neither of them spoke on the short drive to the hospital on Alban Road. Through the glass panel of the ICU, Rona could see her mother and sister beside a high bed. Sinister-looking machinery loomed on the far side. She tapped on the glass. Lindsey turned, and came quickly out to join them, her white face a mirror of Rona's own. They gave each other a brief, intense hug.

‘How is he?'

‘Stable, they say, whatever that means. He's conscious, anyway.'

‘I feel awful that we weren't there when they needed us.'

Lindsey made a face. ‘I spent the night at Rob's hotel. We'd been drinking and I wasn't up to the drive home – and since we didn't want any interruptions, I switched off my mobile. Anyway, we're both here now. They only allow two in at a time, so you go. I'll fill Max in with as much as I know.'

Tom Parish watched Rona walk towards him, and managed a rueful smile. ‘Yes, I know,' he said weakly. ‘I should have listened to you all. I was convinced it was indigestion.'

She bent to kiss him, hoping her overriding fear wasn't apparent. ‘Are you feeling a bit better?'

‘I'm drugged up to the eyeballs, so I can't be sure. But don't worry, sweetie; you're not going to be rid of me yet.'

Rona turned to kiss her mother. ‘Mum, I'm so sorry I wasn't home. It must have been ghastly for you.'

‘I shouldn't like to live through that again,' Avril declared, still not totally mollified.

‘Nor should I!' Tom said feelingly, and, as he'd intended, they both smiled.

They stayed at the hospital for the rest of that day, while Tom Parish drifted in and out of sleep. Lunch was eaten in relays in the hospital canteen. By the time they left, at eight o'clock, he'd been taken off the critical list and was scheduled to be moved out of the ICU the next day.

To compensate for her previous elusiveness, Lindsey suggested her mother spend the night with her, an offer gratefully accepted; Avril had no wish to be alone at home while still anxious about her husband.

‘We'll phone in the morning to check on you,' Rona said, as she kissed her father goodbye, ‘and be in tomorrow evening. Take care, now, and make the most of the rest.'

It was a wonder, Rona thought, waking the next morning, that they'd managed to sleep at all after the traumas of the previous day: the question-mark hanging over the wreath, the revelations about Theo and Sheena, and finally, eclipsing it all, the hours spent at the hospital. But she'd fallen into bed totally exhausted, and after some initial tossing and turning, slid into a deep and blessedly dream-free sleep.

Her first action was to phone the hospital, to be told that her father had spent a comfortable night and was continuing to make good progress. She sent her love, and said she'd be in that evening.

‘I'm due at Cricklehurst at ten,' she remarked to Max over breakfast. ‘Will you be needing your car today?'

‘Yes, I have to pick up some canvases. Why?'

‘Just that it would have saved me trailing down to collect mine, but it doesn't matter.'

‘I'll run you down. I presume you're not thinking of taking Gus with you?'

‘No, he's not up to it. You won't be out long, though, will you? He's not seeing much of us at the moment.'

‘An hour at most, but he spends most of his time asleep.'

Hearing his name, Gus raised his head and flapped his tail. His eyes were a little brighter today, and to Rona's relief he seemed to be getting stronger.

‘It'll seem strange, not having him in the back of the car,' she commented, reaching for the marmalade. ‘One way and another, I'll be glad when today's over; I'm not looking forward to telling Meriel about the books.'

‘How do you think she'll take it?'

‘She'll probably refuse to believe it. Thank God she let me take the diaries; if I'd had to struggle through them there, it would have been months before we came up with anything.'

‘We?' queried Max sardonically.

‘You!' she conceded with a smile. ‘I didn't know I was married to a decryptologist – if there is such a word!'

‘If there isn't, there should be!' he said.

It was an hour later, as she was driving along the main road, that Rona properly registered the Toyota. It had been behind her at two sets of traffic lights, and stayed on her tail through two roundabouts.

Remembering the Honda, she felt a twinge of alarm. Realistically, though, since it was unlikely that every motorist in the area was following her, he must simply be travelling in the same direction.

BOOK: Brought to Book
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