The Twisted Way (24 page)

‘I’m so pleased to meet you at last. It must be difficult for you. My mother told me a little about you. I never actually met my father and I was brought up by a stepfather. However, I took my biological father’s surname when I qualified as a doctor. My stepfather never really wanted me and I felt happier with the name Anderson.’

Janet looked at him with a blank expression in her eyes. ‘Really,’ she uttered in a quiet voice but showed no visible emotion. It was as though she accepted his situation as quite normal and it was nothing to do with her.

Hmmm ... Robbie thought, the wretched James would not have wanted you any more than your stepfather did but you are better off without that knowledge.

‘I understand my mother wrote to you to tell you that my father had died of malaria but forgot to send you a letter addressed to you and his wedding ring as promised. It was an unfortunate oversight on her part but when she died my stepfather found them and gave them to me. I thought I should at least try to set the record straight.’

Alistair looked at Janet with anxious concern etched on his face. She seemed very frail and he doubted if she really understood what was going on. He hoped he was doing the right thing and not stirring up too many unhappy memories for the poor woman but, to his relief, she did not look too worried.

Janet no longer had any feelings for James, she had pushed any thoughts about him to the back of her mind long ago, but there was no doubt about the fact that this was James’s son. Memories of his voice and build, things she thought she had forgotten, came back. The sight of Alistair had acted as a trigger. A nice man, she thought, honest and kind. He must get those traits from his mother; he certainly did not inherit them from his father. She managed to conjure up a picture in her mind of the unpleasant husband who had deserted her so long ago.

‘Thank you,’ she said without flinching. She looked at the pale suggestion of blond stubble on his chin. His face was lean with high cheekbones and a firm well shaped mouth. Her eyes softened. She felt almost calm and gave the impression of being quite lucid as she observed him with studied coolness.

‘We will sit in the lounge after tea and you may give them to me,’ she said in a voice as commanding and direct as she had used in the classroom years ago. He was certainly Felicity’s relative too, she thought, quite amusing really. She relaxed further. They were so very different and that she found interesting.

Joyce cleared away the tea things and with the aid of Felicity and Robbie and her trusty walking sticks Janet led the party into the lounge.

‘Sit by me on the settee Alistair,’ she commanded. Felicity looked startled. The old bird has perked up a bit, she cogitated.

Alistair produced the ring and letter from his pocket and passed them to Janet.

‘Oh,’ Janet said swiftly. ‘Pass me my glasses, Felicity.’ Felicity, always anxious to butter up Auntie, obliged. Janet’s face became pinched and anxious.

‘Yes, it is definitely James’s ring. The inscription J and J and the heart on the inside of the ring are unique I imagine. Can you see the letters?’

The memory of their vows taken in Enderly church drifted back to her. She had a vague recollection of placing the ring on James’s finger and colour crept with greater depth into her cheeks.

‘Yes, the letters are definitely J and J and there is a heart engraved between the letters.’

She turned her attention to the letter. It was in a blue faded and creased envelope clearly addressed to her in James’s all-toofamiliar untidy handwriting.

‘Open it Auntie!’ Felicity urged. ‘It is personal Felicity,’ her aunt retorted tartly. She slowly opened it with care, after donning her old steel-rimmed glasses, and squinted at the faded writing. She sighed audibly. ‘It is just to tell me how sorry he was for leaving’ she said then folded the letter and placed it in her skirt pocket. That there was nothing more to say became clear to Alistair, Robbie and Felicity. The subject was closed.

‘Thank you Alistair,’ she said. ‘So lovely to meet you,’ and with an odd gesture of her wrinkled and knobbly hand dismissed him. Definite closure, she thought. I can at last rest in peace.

‘Have you any photographs of my father?’ Alistair asked with some trepidation after a few moments of poignant silence. He realised that Janet’s first marriage could not have been happy but he had not travelled so far to be fobbed off now. He wanted some information about his father. ‘I never knew him,’ he continued. ‘He died before I was born and my mother and stepfather brought me up.’

‘There are a few in a trunk in the roof, I think,’ Janet responded in a hushed voice. ‘Robbie can get them for you. He can handle the roof ladder.’

She turned to Robbie. ‘They are in an old brown travelling trunk quite near the trapdoor. There are only three or four, most of them I tore up and threw away years ago. I thought that best.’

Robbie thought so too. ‘I’ll get them,’ he uttered pensively and thought he did not really want to set eyes on the wretched James again. There was little doubt in his mind that Janet did not want to either, which was satisfying.

He returned ten minutes later with an old brown envelope containing a number of faded and slightly creased photographs.

‘These must be the ones you want,’ he said and passed the envelope to Janet.

Janet opened it and three photographs of James fell out on to her lap. The first was of a handsome naval officer, the second depicted James in the garden of Primrose House just after they married, young and smiling, and the third, faded and rather brown, of James as a boy of about fifteen in school uniform. Why on earth she had kept that one she could not imagine. Callow youth, good looking even then, but a face lacking in strength of character which did not improve, though she had not been perceptive enough to know that when she first met him.

‘Please take them Alistair. They are of no further interest to me but your family may wish to see them.’

Robbie was relieved. Unlike Felicity, who was craning her neck forward in an attempt to peak at them, he did not want to see the photographs but Alistair’s face lit up with pleasure and he thought that the unwelcome tea party was perhaps worthwhile after all.

‘Thank you,’ Alistair said. ‘I know this meeting has been difficult for you but I do appreciate your kindness. My daughters will love to see them.’ He was startled to find that his youngest daughter’s face looked uncannily like James. His family would be pleased to see the photographs but he sensed that James was not such a nice person as he had imagined. That was something he would keep to himself.

Janet looked at Alistair and smiled. She would not have thought it possible that James could have given life to such a charming and sincere man but here he was, living proof that some good could come out of ‘evil’, which is how she had come to think of James over the years.

Alistair and Robbie met again that evening to discuss the situation. They enjoyed a steak, salad and chips and glass of ale in the Green Man.

‘Well, I’ve met Janet and done my best to make up for my mother’s lapse’, Alistair said. ‘I did intend to travel to Hampshire for a couple of days before returning to Africa – I believe my father’s family came from a small village there before they moved to London – but I don’t know of any living relatives to contact. It could perhaps be an interesting project for the future when I can bring my wife and daughters with me. Felicity may be able to tell me about her mother sometime but I understand that she was very young when her mother died, she did tell me that much, and that her brother is living in Australia. I was left with the feeling, however, that she’s reluctant to pursue any future contact. She’s an odd character, I must say.’

Robbie told him about Felicity’s erratic behaviour since she had arrived at Primrose House. He had warmed to Alistair but the blue eyes and voice evoked too many unpleasant memories of James Anderson.

‘I knew your father,’ he said. ‘Janet does not know and I don’t want her to. It must be our secret.’

He told Alistair briefly about his life after leaving Enderly as a child and his reasons for returning when he retired. He continued, ‘James treated Janet badly and was unkind to me when I stayed with them for a while. I’m sorry to tell you that he made my life hell. You haven’t inherited any of his vile ways. Be thankful you are like your mother. I am glad I have met you Alistair, though I’m not so sure about your relative Felicity, I think she’s a dark horse.’

‘Me too,’ Alistair retorted quickly, ‘my sentiments exactly. You’ve answered a few of the questions that had been forming in my mind about you Robbie; a really intelligent and educated man, who need not work as a handyman, but who is concerned and anxious to do his best for Janet Lacey.’ He smiled with a glimmer of affection at Robbie. ‘We probably won’t meet again,’ he continued, ‘but keep an eye on Felicity Brown. I’ve worked with mentally ill people and a few psychopaths over the years. It sounds as though she’s not to be trusted though her main problem could be hyperactivity, perhaps Attention Deficit Disorder. It’s a condition that’s difficult to understand although considerable research has been carried out in recent years. Professional assessment is, of course, essential to be sure. It’s a pity that she did not have counselling when she was younger, from which she may have benefited.’

‘You have just voiced my worst fears,’ Robbie responded. ‘I certainly intend to watch her!’

Alistair left Enderly early the next morning after promising Robbie that he would keep in touch but they both knew, as they shook hands, that another meeting was unlikely.

Robbie was left with an feeling of unease. What, he wondered, would that unsavoury Felicity do next? He would need to keep his wits about him. Hyperactivity … hmm. He would read about that sometime. It may help him to understand her and deal with her more in a more effective way in the future.

Felicity became more agitated as the days passed. She had still not discovered if the will she had found was the last one 
that her aunt had made. Matthew Mace had now taken over 
the solicitors’ business which had been run by his father and grandfather. The loss of Peter had left Jeremy shaken and so morose that he decided to take early retirement from the Mace firm. Drinking a great deal of alcohol and gambling still constituted an important part of his life, it was not easy to change his long-established habits however destructive they had been to the family business, but he did plan to take a holiday in the New Year, in order to ‘recharge his batteries’. A holiday would assist him to reorganize his life and he might then be able to address his addictions and even overcome them. Jeremy hoped that Matthew would marry soon and produce a grandchild who might one day carry on the family business but at present that did not seem likely. He was disappointed that Matthew had not brought any girlfriends home for a long time and was only interested in work.

‘I have no time for dolly birds, Dad,’ Matthew would say. ‘I might get married one day but not just yet. The business demands my full attention. We are barely solvent.’

Janet invited Jeremy and Matthew for drinks and supper on Christmas Eve as she had done for many years. Peter would be sadly missed but she appreciated in her more lucid moments all the help with her affairs that Jeremy and Matthew had given her in the past and it was her way of rewarding them. A sadness overcame her when she thought about her old friend Peter who had died so recently in her garden. She could not now remember with any accuracy how it had happened. She had some idea that they were going to get married in the near future, or was that some dream that lingered from the past?

Felicity entered into the spirit of things. She purchased a small freshly cut Christmas tree from a local nursery and decorated it with the bright baubles and tinsel she found in the roof. She placed the tree with care in the hall and was proud of her efforts. It cheers up that dowdy area, she thought. It’s a load of rubbish and a waste of money really but it will please Auntie. Jack liked the smell of the tree and christened it neatly with a quick squirt of urine when she turned her back. It saved him a trip to the garden. To help Felicity Robbie cut some branches of holly and bought some mistletoe in a local market. Felicity took pride in decorating Primrose House with the holly and some gold-painted twigs that Auntie produced from a bag that was tucked under the stairs and had shared a space with the Hoover for many years. The mistletoe she hung up over the lounge doorway. ‘Never know my luck,’ she whispered to herself. ‘I might get a kiss from that hunk Matthew,’ and that could make the whole evening worthwhile. The thought cheered her. Primrose House she hoped would be her own one day then she could arrange things as she liked and entertain her friends.

She looked out of the dining room window to watch Robbie in the garden where he was cutting some more holly for her. The way he stood and placed his hand on his right hip reminded her of a photograph Auntie had at one time, which she could no longer find, of the evacuee Tom Hands. The wretched Mace family had occupied her thoughts in recent weeks and she had pushed any interest she retained in Tom Hands to one side. She wondered now with renewed interest where he went after leaving Enderly. It would be necessary to deal with him after the Mace family problem had been solved. It was unfortunate that his name still appeared in the will. She would make some enquiries soon but the local authorities may, she realised, not be willing to help her, though tracing one‘s biological parents after adoption was no longer so problematic as it had been in the past. She might be lucky. He might even be dead by now – that would save her a lot of trouble.

Robbie came into the dining room bearing a further load of holly for the animated Felicity. Janet sat in her chair with a strained expression on her face. She too had been thinking of Tom Hands and had noticed that the way Robbie had stood with his hand on his hip in the garden was so like Tom. Tears filled her eyes. Felicity was too busy to notice and would not have cared if she had.