Daffodils in March (6 page)

After all, he'd met Liam at an AA meeting. Liam had become his mentor, the one person from church who knew the demons he fought on a daily basis on an equally personal level. A recovering alcoholic like him, Liam knew real grief, having witnessed his first wife murdered in front of him.

“It won't help, mate,” Liam told him gently. “Take that from one who knows. I dived back into the bottle when Sally was killed. It only makes things worse. How many days since you last had a drink?”

David sucked in a deep breath, kneading the back of his neck with his other hand. “Ninety seven. Hanna wanted me to get to the hundred. She insisted it was a landmark number. She was planning a party to celebrate.”

“Sounds like her.” Liam's smile came across in his voice. “So we'll do it. You and me.”

“How can I celebrate anything when she's gone?” David choked on the tears he didn't want to let spill.

“She'd want you to. We'll do it in her memory.”

“How do I go on without her?” he whispered. “I'm alone now.”

“No, you're not,” Liam told him. “I'm here. And God is right in that hotel room with you.” He began praying.

Slowly peace began to creep into David's soul. The grief still tore his heart to shreds, but Hanna was safe with Christ, and he'd see her again one day. All that mattered now was keeping her son safe. For that, he needed to be sober.

As the call ended, he put the phone on the table by the bed. He stood and grabbed the bottle and glass. He strode to the sink, emptying them away. Tossing the bottle in the bin and set the glass in the sink, he filled it with hot water.

Crossing back to the bed, David lay on his side, still fully dressed. He stared at the wall, that last image of Hanna running through the departure gate replayed over and over; she turned and waved at him, telling him she loved him and she'd see him soon.

He knew he would see her again. It would just be years rather than a few days.

4

Monday morning, Eden sat next to David in the solicitor's office. Marc slept in his car seat by David's feet. She still couldn't believe they were here. What was so urgent about the will that couldn't wait? Hanna had been dead less than two full days, but the lawyer had been insistent that the will was read. Although why she was here, she couldn't even begin to fathom. There was other stuff she could be doing—like washing and changing the sheets on Marc's crib and damp dusting and washing the mat he lay on.

They hadn't even planned Hanna's funeral yet, although Pastor Jack was coming over later to do so. Hanna's body hadn't yet been released and wouldn't be until after the inquest which began tomorrow.

The investigation into the crash would most likely take months. Investigators were certain the plane crashed because of the loss of the hydraulics, but didn't yet know what caused that to happen. Or if they did, they hadn't released that information. According to the news, they were studying the black boxes and running simulations of the landing in an effort to discover what had gone wrong.

The solicitor, Bill Watts, shuffled the papers and stared at Eden and David over the top of his wire-rimmed glasses. His dark hair was gelled into place and didn't look as if it would have moved in a hurricane. “Thank you both for coming on such short notice.”

David scowled. “I still don't know why we both needed to be here. Han and I made the wills together. I know what they both say. She leaves everything to me and vice versa.”

“Mrs. Jameson redid her will last month.”

“
What
?” David slouched further in the chair and his eyes narrowed. Then he sucked in a deep breath and lowered his voice. “She didn't say anything to me about changing it. Do you mean, she added a codicil?”

“No.” The solicitor shook his head. “She came to see me last month and had a completely new will drawn up.”

“She can't have.”

Eden sighed. “David, just let the man speak, after all that is why we're here.”

“Well, it's why
I
am,” he muttered.

Mr. Watts rolled his eyes. “As I said, Mrs. Jameson came to see me last month and had a new will drawn up. It's all been done correctly and filed with the right people.” He began reading. “I, Hanna Victoria Jameson, being of sound mind, hereby request my assets be divided as follows. My share of the house, twenty-four Bucklers Drive, is to go to my sister-in-law, Eden Jameson, along with the sum of ten thousand pounds.”

David glowered. “That's
not
what we agreed.”

The solicitor continued. “She has put twenty thousand pounds into a trust fund for her son, Marc, to be held safe until he reaches his twenty-first birthday. The rest of her money and assets she's left to you, Mr. Painter, as in her original will. She has also left instructions for Marc's guardianship.”

“Me,” David said bluntly. “That's what we agreed after Eric died. She wanted me to raise the baby if anything happened to her.”

Mr. Watts shook his head. “She has left instructions for you, Miss Jameson to be primary guardian. But I quote,
as David and Eden will both be living in the same house, it would make sense for them to raise Marc together. They are aunt and uncle to him, but at this juncture, it is best that Eden will have sole custody. I know they'll do all in their power to protect and care for him
—”

“
What?
” David stood. “There's some mistake. Give me that.” He leaned over the desk and the solicitor handed over the will.

As David read it, his face grew red. In fact, looking at him, Eden would go as far as to say that Mount David had just erupted and a pyroclastic cloud was currently hurtling towards the solicitor at over eight-hundred miles an hour. But then as she'd seen so often, the anger was reined in at the last moment and grief filled his eyes.

“There is no mistake,” Mr. Watts said. “Your sister was quite clear about her wishes on the subject. Her half of the house goes to Miss Jameson, along with custody and parental rights over the child.”

“No way.” David put the papers back on the desk and calmly retrieved the car seat and Marc. “This isn't over, not by a long chalk.” He walked out, the door closing quietly behind him.

Eden just sat there, numb, trying to process everything she'd heard.

“Are you all right? Can I get you some water or tea or something?”

She glanced up. “I'm OK; just trying to get my head around this. May I see?”

She took the offered document. There it was in black and white. She got Hanna's half of the house. And primary custody of Marc. She glanced up. “What happens if the house gets sold?”

“You'd get fifty percent of the total proceeds if you both wanted to sell. If either you or David alone wanted to sell, the other would have to buy the whole house or sell his share at the same time.”

“What happens to the money from the sale? Does that go into Marc's trust fund?”

Mr. Watts shook his head. “No, the money from any sale would be yours.”

“I see.” Eden glanced at the window to see David's car driving away at high speed. Great, she'd been abandoned and lost Marc within five minutes of being made his legal guardian. She bent and picked up her bag. “I shouldn't take up any more of your time.”

The lawyer stood with her. “I'll see you out. If you have any more questions, don't hesitate to ring. Hanna was very adamant about this.”

Leaving the building in the rain, Eden started the long walk back to the house. She had no idea what to do. David had made his feelings plain. Now Hanna had her living in the same house as David and raising Marc as her own, with David in the father role.

****

David swung the car onto the drive and dashed inside with the car seat before he or the baby got too wet. Marc was sleeping, and he didn't want to disturb him by moving him into the cot. Instead, he set the car seat on the floor of Hanna's bedroom.

He hurried downstairs and hung his jacket on the end of the bannisters. He headed into the integral garage and slammed his fist into the punch bag hanging from the ceiling over and over again. How could Hanna do this to him? After all he'd done. After the way he stood by her. Took her in when Eric died, despite his better judgment. Protected her, loved her and the baby.

The sudden realization that Hanna didn't trust him, hit him hard. The punch bag flew back and hit him on the shoulder sending him to the floor. He sat, winded, salt burning his eyes. She'd died not trusting him with her son.

A spear pierced him. What was he doing? To have sunk so low that not even his own sister trusted him with anything.

From above him the sound of a baby screaming echoed down the stairs. He had to prove her wrong. Prove, even though it was too late, that he could do this. That underneath the dirt of the sordid persona he'd adopted, he was still the same man she knew and loved.

****

An hour and a half later, Eden arrived back at the house, still no closer to a resolution than when she left the solicitor's office. She headed up the drive, just as Pastor Jack Chambers let himself out.

Pastor Jack smiled. “Hello, Eden. I'm sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you,” she managed. “I still can't believe she's gone.”

“I know. I've gone over the funeral arrangements with David. It's set for this Friday. He said he'd fill you in.”

“He might do. We're not exactly getting on right now.”

“It's hard for both of you,” Pastor Jack said. “Just give it time and prayer and it'll work out.”

“OK. Thank you.”

“Call me if you want to talk. I have another appointment, otherwise I'd suggest going for coffee in the High Street.”

She nodded and headed inside. She hung her wet coat above the radiator and glanced into the lounge. David sat on the couch, a screaming baby in his arms, bottle in his hand. She went in slowly, not sure of the reception she'd get. “I saw Pastor Jack. I was coming in as he left. He said the funeral is on Friday. Isn't that a little soon? Will we even have the body by then?”

David jerked his head in response. “Yeah; we'll get the body tomorrow or Wednesday. I don't want this hanging over my head for days, like with Eric or my parents.”

Hurt she hadn't been asked her opinion on anything, she wrapped her arms around herself. “Whi…” Her voice wobbled, and she tried again. “Which hymns did you pick?”

“Hanna's favorite ones. ‘Cornerstone,' ‘Amazing Grace,' ‘When Peace Like a River,' and ‘Be Thou My Vis--'” he paused and glared down at the baby. “Fine, don't have it then.” He lay the bottle down on the side.

“David, stop.” She took a couple of steps towards him.

“He's done nothing but scream for the last couple of hours. I've tried everything, but nothing works. He doesn't want feeding or changing or holding or putting down. So I give up.”

She held out her arms. “May I?”

“Have at it.” He extended the baby towards her.

Eden grabbed the blanket from the top of the sofa and laid it on the cushions. She gently laid the screaming baby on top and then swaddled him. Holding him gently but securely, she began to rock him, stroking his cheek. “Shhh,” she whispered. “So much noise, and there isn't any need, really.” Slowly the cries subsided and she picked up the bottle. “Are you ready for this now?”

Marc opened his mouth and took the bottle, his eyes closing as he ate.

David shook his head. “How did you do that?”

“Babies pick up on your mood. If you're stressed or upset, they will be too.”

“Codswallop,” he snapped. He pushed up and stomped over to the sideboard. His fingers hovered over the bottle of whiskey. Then he picked it up and slung it in the bin.

Eden looked at him in relief. For a moment she thought he was going to start drinking. And he was in a bad enough mood as it was. Alcohol would only serve to make it worse.

David leaned against the sideboard. “I'm going to move Marc's crib into my room.”

Eden jerked as if stabbed. She looked up at him. “Sorry?”

“I said, Marc moves into my room,” he snapped. “That way I can deal with him during the night.”

“He's used to Hanna's room.”

“He's a baby. He isn't used to anything.”

“So now you're an expert on childcare, when a few minutes ago you couldn't even stop him crying.” Eden scowled. Two could play at the sniping game.

David heaved a sigh. He moved to the window and adjusted the vase of daffodils on the window sill. “The decision's made.”

“Fine. So, I assume you have no objections to me going into your room several times a day then.”

He glowered, anger radiating off him. “I beg your pardon?”

“If you don't want me in there, where do I put Marc to sleep during the day? And his room has to be kept clean. Will you have time to do that?”

“Fine,” he yelled. Then as Marc startled, he lowered his voice. “Leave him in Hanna's room, but you do not need to get up to him during the night.”

“You can't do every night and be able to function the next day.”

“So you don't trust me with him either?”

“I didn't say that.” Eden caught her breath. “What about a compromise? He stays in Hanna's room, which we turn into his room. Or he could have your old room?”

“I have the railway track set up in there,” he said shortly. “He can stay where he is, until I get around to putting it away.”

“OK.” Eden dropped the subject, looking back down at Marc. “He might like the trains when he gets older. Hanna was going to show me, but she never did.”

David
harrumphed
. “OK, fine, we'll keep him in Hanna's room. In time I could decorate it. A boy shouldn't be surrounded by pink.”

Eden glanced up, noticing he'd changed the subject. “There is nothing wrong with pink, but OK. Just don't go to the other extreme and make it blue.”