A Family Scandal (21 page)

‘Silly!’ Grace exclaimed. ‘It’s you! That’s your hair.’

Tommy ran his hand through his wavy hair, so dark it was almost black. ‘So it is,’ he said. ‘That’s very clever. Shall we go and show Mummy and the others?’

‘She should go to art classes,’ the artist said as Grace took hold of Tommy’s hand. ‘Can’t start them too young. Does the talent run in the family?’

‘Yes,’ said Tommy shortly. He didn’t want to think about what he’d done as a teenager, destroying Mavis’s own painting of her grandmother, out of sheer stupidity, he realised now. ‘Her mother’s very good,’ he told the man.

Walking along with the little girl, he vowed he would make it up to Mavis by sorting out Alec Pugh. Maybe he could manage it so that she would never know. Somehow he was going to resolve this desperate situation and persuade the odious Alec to grant his wife the divorce she so desperately wanted. Then, and only then, would Mavis finally be free.

Alec Pugh gazed in fury at the two figures walking along the seafront. For days he had been watching the group of holiday-makers: his former neighbours, his detested tart of a mother-in-law, her thuggish husband, and worse, his wife and children, who seemed very cosy with this tall man. It had come to Alec that it was Jenny’s cousin, who sometimes had taken up a parking space in their old road with his brash white van. What he was doing with them he hadn’t been able to imagine, but after a few days it had become obvious. He and Mavis couldn’t keep their hands off one another. They canoodled on the beach, they linked arms as they walked along, they held hands, and all of this in front of the children –
his
children. Now the man had the nerve to stride down the pavement holding hands with his daughter.
His
daughter.

Alec had absolutely no desire to have his wife back, much less his children, but he didn’t see why another man should have them. That was too much to bear. His pride would not stand it. He felt less of a man as he stared at the receding man and little girl, who was skipping along. How dare they be so happy and carefree, when it was he who had brought that child into being? What right did that stranger have to hold her hand? He was most likely spoiling her, letting her run riot all over the place. Like all females, Grace needed discipline and that had been obvious from the very start.

Alec could feel something slipping in his mind, the old anger and the black pit of betrayal that had haunted him when he discovered first his mother’s lifetime of lies and then that his wife had upped and left him. The world seemed to slip into a different kind of focus. He turned the sign on the door to ‘closed’, picked up his jacket and, at a safe distance, began to edge his way along the seafront, keeping the tall man with dark hair and little girl always within his sight.

Alec hated the way they were so at ease with each other, as if they were entitled to be happy. His daughter had never been like that with him. As soon as she had learned to speak she had answered him back, never obeying him without a fuss, her contrary nature calling out for correction and punishment. Alec ducked behind a tall van as the man glanced round, wondering if he’d been seen, but the little girl pointed and laughed, and he realised they’d been looking at a particularly daring seagull. The bird was rummaging in a litter bin, pulling out paper wrappings from fish and chips, and his daughter found that amusing, rather than the disgrace it really was.

Finally they wandered off and Alec moved surreptitiously behind them. His thoughts were whirring. Nothing seemed straightforward anymore. He’d once known exactly what was right and what was wrong but now the boundaries were shifting. He didn’t want to think like this. He relied on certainty and yet here were people who deserved nothing but pain walking around flaunting their joy at being alive. It was all wrong. He had to fight it, had to get back to the world where things were clear in black and white.

He lost track of time as he tracked the man and girl along the bright streets, away from the main parade of shops, down some residential roads, past rows of guest houses. Finally they paused and turned, heading down a short garden path to a welcoming front porch. Alec peered from a safe distance, his heart hammering unsteadily in his chest, his anger rising once more. So this was where they were staying. A respectable establishment, by the looks of it – but the people staying there were anything but that. How he longed to punish all of them.

Chapter Twenty

Rhona stretched uncomfortably. She checked her watch; nine o’clock. She was amazed that she’d managed to sleep for that long in the office chair. Her limbs were stiff, and her back ached, but that was nothing compared to the pain in her head. She gingerly touched the spot where she’d been hit and winced, wondering if she was concussed.

Her stomach rumbled and she groaned. There was only the last of the lemonade, and if nobody came to bank the takings, it would somehow have to last her until the bar opened on Tuesday. Perhaps somebody would miss her and send out a search party. Her parents knew where she was going last night. Then Rhona thought about all the times she’d stayed out all night after going to a club, without warning her mum or dad. They’d begun by being furious, anxious, trying to ban her from leaving the house but she’d defied them until they gave up. At the time she had thought it was clever, that she was daring and a free spirit who couldn’t be tied down. Now she saw that it had been stupid. They’d been concerned for her safety and she’d laughed at them. Now she was trapped and they’d be going about their morning business, thinking she was back to her old tricks again and that she’d show up that evening after work.

Nobody would be worried about her when she didn’t turn up for work either. They’d just assume she’d reverted back to her old ways; that she’d been painting the town red all weekend and was now sleeping off the after-effects. Rhona clung to the brief hope that Jean would suspect something was wrong, but it didn’t last more than a few moments. She’d let down Jean most of all over the months and years, and yet the woman had always spoken up for her to the management, even if she’d been sharp with her in private. Jean would be disappointed in her, but not surprised.

That meant she was stuck here and for a moment she almost cried in frustration, but then once again Rhona stiffened with resolve. She’d tried to force the door, but she’d been in so much pain and distress that she hadn’t thought about the obvious. Andy and the man with him must have taken the keys to lock the door when they left, but maybe there were duplicates in case the originals were lost.

After half an hour of careful searching, first through the desk drawers, then the filing cabinets and finally under every surface in case they’d been hidden for safety, Rhona came up with nothing, except a small packet of shortbread biscuits and a bag of crisps in one of the cabinet drawers. Rhona was about to rip them both open when she stopped herself. If nobody came that morning, or she couldn’t find a way out, the meagre amount of food would have to last her for twenty-four hours. She would have to ration them. Gritting her teeth, she carefully took out just two biscuits and put the rest of the packet on a high shelf so that she wouldn’t be tempted to eat them. She then found a jam jar that had been used to keep elastic bands in, and poured a tiny amount of lemonade into it, while trying not to think of her mother’s steaming porridge or eggs on toast, washed down with a cup of hot, sweet, tea.

Rhona slowly nibbled at the stale biscuits and sipped the flat lemonade. She vowed never to turn down her mother’s cooking ever again. When she got out of here she was going to be grateful for everything her mother did for her, instead of complaining she fussed too much. She felt bitterly ashamed of the way she’d treated her parents, only now beginning to appreciate what they’d been through.

Tommy stood at the threshold of the shop, his nerve almost failing him when he thought of how much depended on the next few minutes. Then he told himself to get on with it. Standing there doing nothing wouldn’t get them anywhere.

He pushed open the door and came face to face with the man who had abused and terrorised Mavis for so long. It was almost unbelievable. The man’s skin was pale, his hair mousy and thin, his moustache neatly trimmed. Everything about him indicated he was weak. Tommy felt a surge of confidence, knowing he could easily beat him in a fight if it came to it, but hastily reminded himself that this would be the worst possible outcome. He had to stay in control, whatever happened.

‘Hello,’ he said. ‘Are you Charles Collier? I’d like a word with you.’

The man’s eyes narrowed. ‘Would you indeed? And what makes you think I’d want to talk to you?’ He paused and his voice grew lower. ‘I know who you are. I’ve been watching you and I even know where you’re staying.’

Tommy nodded, trying not to be thrown off course by that unpleasant revelation. He should have seen that coming. If he’d been able to observe Alec, then logically Alec would have been able to see him too – and he would have had all week to do it. ‘I think you’ll want to hear what I have to say,’ he began.

‘I doubt it very much,’ said Alec, brushing the long sleeves of his shirt as if they’d become dusty.

‘I won’t beat about the bush,’ said Tommy, deciding to cut to the chase. ‘It looks as if you’ve made a life for yourself down here and from what I gather it’s been quite successful.’

Alec hissed at that, seemingly disturbed by the idea that someone had been talking about him. ‘That’s as maybe. It has nothing to do with you.’

‘But it does,’ said Tommy. ‘I think you know why. You’re still married to Mavis. She wants a divorce.’

Alec shut his eyes and his mouth turned down at the corners. ‘I’ll thank you not to mention that woman’s name in here. She is nothing to do with me. She is a slut and a disgrace. I’ve seen how she acts when given the opportunity, her hands all over you and wearing those tight dresses, nothing but thin little straps holding them up, it’s an affront to decency. Eating chips in public like a common whore. I washed my hands of her long ago.’

‘Not legally, you didn’t,’ Tommy persisted, trying not to become incensed at the completely unfounded slur on Mavis’s reputation. ‘If you hate her so much why don’t you divorce her and have done with it? Then you could … you could find yourself a different woman.’

That was the wrong thing to have said, Tommy realised, as the man’s eyes grew bright with fury.

‘How dare you even suggest such a thing!’ Alec seemed to be having trouble breathing. ‘All women are unreliable and untrustworthy. Don’t come into my shop and speak such filth. Get out. I don’t want you in my sight a moment longer.’

Tommy didn’t move. ‘If you think like that then divorce Mavis. Or let her divorce you.’

‘Never!’ spat Alec. ‘It’s a disgraceful suggestion. What if it were to become known that I had gone through such a shameful process? My reputation and business would be ruined. Now get out, I shan’t ask you again.’

‘You’re here in Devon, using a different name, so I don’t see how anyone would find out,’ Tommy pointed out. ‘Not only that, if you agree to a divorce, I’ll make it worth your while.’

‘What? You’re trying to bribe me? How dare you. Get out, leave my premises and don’t come back.’

‘Bribe you? No. Look upon it as a bonus, something to expand your business.’ Tommy gave the man a moment to take in what he was saying. ‘Think about it. Don’t turn it down out of hand. I’m sure you’d like to get in rarer stamp samples, appeal to the real specialists, but that costs money.’

Bingo. Tommy saw that this idea had hit home. Alec clearly craved to be known as a cut above the average stamp dealer. At last he had his bargaining tool. ‘Think what you might make of this business if you had the reputation of offering only the finest, the hard-to-locate exhibits. You’d be the first person all the genuine collectors would call. Imagine it. Your standing in the local business community would rise.’ He paused. ‘I bet they’re a bit of a closed circle, aren’t they? Not used to welcoming outsiders? Just imagine if you could make a big donation to the Rotary Club or the Chamber of Commerce. They’d open their arms to you then.’

Alec shook his head but he was tempted. It had been more of a struggle than he wanted to admit, getting any local business contacts. His immediate neighbours barely counted. They weren’t of the class he wanted to mix with. He fought with his instinct to get this obnoxious man out of his shop as soon as possible. ‘I’ll think about it,’ he finally said, pursing his lips in reluctance. ‘I won’t promise anything. I can’t just shut up shop you know, so you’ll have to meet me after work, and make sure you come alone.’

‘Fine. Name your place and time.’

‘Six o’clock,’ Alec said. ‘In the car park at Marine Head.’

Tommy wasn’t sure where it was but told himself he had plenty of time to find out. He turned for the door. ‘Right, see you there,’ he said.

‘I don’t understand, Tommy,’ protested Lily later that day. ‘You never said anything about this job before. What’s so urgent that you got to think about work while you’re on your holiday? Let ’em wait. Mrs Hawkins is cooking something special a little earlier than usual, and she’s also offered to babysit so that we can all go out on our last night.’

‘When a chance of work comes up, you have to take it,’ Tommy said, trying to keep his expression relaxed. ‘That’s right, isn’t it, Pete?’

‘What? Oh, yeah, absolutely.’ Pete sounded vague and was clearly thinking about something else, as he had been for most of the last week.

‘I’ll have a quick bite with you, pop out to see these clients and then be back with you before you know it,’ he promised.

‘Well you make sure you are,’ said Lily. ‘I know what you men are like when you start talking business.’

‘I’ll be back before you know it. I just don’t want to lose what might be a lucrative contract,’ Tommy said, hating that he had to lie.

‘Then you’d best go to meet them then,’ Mavis said affably. ‘If it drags on a bit longer than you’re expecting, you can meet us in the pub.’

Tommy smiled, glad that unlike her mother, Mavis wasn’t making a fuss. He then asked Mrs Hawkins if she would mind if he used the telephone to order a taxi.