Forgotten Child (20 page)

He hadn’t told his parents of his own plans yet, and didn’t want to until it was absolutely necessary – but when he left university he’d be leaving the country. Julia’s father had already offered him a job with his company in South Africa and it was too good an opportunity to turn down.

Marcos had known that Jenny’s estrangement from her parents wouldn’t last indefinitely, but he was still annoyed that she had invited them to dinner.

He had made his feelings plain, giving Jenny the cold shoulder last night in bed, and had hardly spoken to her since they had got up that morning.

‘Marcos, please, I told you last night, I won’t make inviting my parents round a regular occurrence. It’s just that I felt I’d be more confident on my own ground.’

‘If you feel like that, why bother to see them at all?’

‘I…I miss my…dad.’

‘Oh, so your father comes before me, does he?’

‘No, of course not.’

‘You know how hard I work during the week, hardly arriving home before seven and how much I therefore value having the weekends to ourselves. It seems you didn’t give that a thought.’

‘I’m sorry, really I am, and I promise it won’t happen again.’

‘See that it doesn’t,’ Marcos snapped, but then, seeing Jenny’s eyes flooding with tears, he decided to relent. He’d said enough to ensure that she wouldn’t make the same mistake again. ‘It’s all right, I forgive you, now come here and give me a kiss.’

Jenny was still feeling a little shaky. Marcos was usually wonderful – loving, generous and kind, if a little touchy at times. Now, though, she had become aware that there was another side to him, one that she feared, and it was as though the man she loved disappeared at times to be replaced by another.

Thankfully Marcos was acting normally now, charming her parents and Robin when they’d arrived. To her relief, dinner had turned out perfectly and, laying the meat platter on the dining room table, she now said, ‘Marcos, would you carve while I fetch the vegetables?’

‘Of course, darling.’

‘Can I help, Jennifer?’ Delia asked.

‘It all right, I’ll give her a hand,’ Robin said, following Jenny to the kitchen. ‘I wanted a chance to speak to you alone; to say thanks for this and to ask you to give Mummy a real chance this time.’

Jenny handed him a dish large dish of mixed fresh vegetables. ‘I’ll try to be open-minded.’

‘Fair enough,’ he said, smiling.

‘Go on, take that through. I’ll bring the gravy and mint sauce.’

‘This is lovely, Jennifer,’ Delia said.

‘Smashing roast potatoes,’ her father commented.

‘I tried several ways of cooking them, but Edna’s turned out to be best.’

‘Is she a friend of yours, Jennifer?’ Delia asked.

‘No, she’s our daily.’

‘Goodness, a daily. Aren’t you lucky?’ Delia enthused.

‘Jenny, did you have to tell us that?’ her father said, chuckling. ‘Your mother will want one now.’

‘Marcos mentioned yesterday that you’re learning to drive, Jenny,’ said Robin. ‘How’s it going? Have you hit anything yet?’

‘Trust you to ask that. But no, I haven’t. I’m taking five lessons a week so hopefully it won’t be long before I can take my test.’

‘That’s wonderful, Jennifer, well done,’ Delia said. ‘It took me ages to learn to drive. I don’t suppose you need it, but if you feel like a bit of extra practice between lessons I’d be pleased to help. We could use my car.’

Delia’s smile looked genuinely warm, her offer a kind one, and for the first time Jenny began to
wonder if she really had changed. ‘Er…thank you. I…I may take you up on that,’ she said.

Robin lifted his eyes heavenward. ‘God help us, Dad, another woman driver on the road.’

‘Down to me, I’m afraid,’ said Marcos. ‘I suggested driving lessons.’

‘Good for you,’ Delia said, ‘and Robin, I’ll have you know I’ve never had an accident. There is nothing wrong with women drivers, and I’m sure Jennifer will be a good one too.’

Jenny was pleased with the vote of confidence and smiled at Delia, receiving a wink and a smile in return. She didn’t know it then, but it was to be the start of a huge change in their relationship, one that would grow as time progressed.

It was 1974 and a year had passed. Tina was lying quietly beside Paul, unable to believe that she’d actually done it.

‘I suppose I’ll have to marry you now,’ he complained, yet he was smiling.

‘Who said I want you to?’

‘Now listen here, minx, it was you who demanded my body. What if this results in a baby?’

‘Daft thing. Men can’t have babies.’

He laughed, hugging her. ‘Seriously, Tina, will you marry me?’

‘I thought my first proposal would be sort of romantic, perhaps over a candlelit dinner.’

‘First! How many do you expect?’ Paul asked.

‘I didn’t expect that one, and anyway, you don’t have to marry me. There won’t be a baby. I’ve been taking the pill.’

‘In advance? You planned this?’

‘Not exactly planned, but we’ve been courting for
ages and…and I was scared you’d lose patience with me. I’ve been taking the pill, well, just in case, hoping I could pluck up the courage.’

‘So you thought you
had
to go all the way.’

‘Yes…no…well, sort of, but I’m glad I did.’

‘There was no need. I’d have waited for as long as necessary. I…well, I love you.’

Tina’s stomach flipped. Paul had never said that before, but she felt the same. ‘I love you too.’

‘I’m glad to hear it, but you can forget about the pill. I’ve heard about the side effects and no doubt it accounts for those headaches.’

‘But what if I get pregnant?’

‘There’ll be no chance of that. In future I’ll keep my hands to myself.’

‘I’m not standing for that!’ Tina said, feigning indignation. ‘I rather liked it, and though another bloke might not be as good as you, I don’t intend to turn into a nun.’

‘What!’

Paul’s face was a picture and, unable to hold it back, Tina burst out laughing.

He grinned. ‘You had me going there for a while. Now come here. If you liked it so much we’ll do it again, but only on condition that you agree to marry me.’

‘Yes please, on both counts,’ Tina said. She was so happy, couldn’t remember a time when she’d ever been this happy, and it was all thanks to this man.
Since they’d been going out together there had been terrible things happening, IRA bomb blasts all over the place, both here and in Ireland. Parliament had been targeted, as well as the Tower of London and Brooks’s Club in London. Just two days ago a bomb had gone off in a Birmingham pub and it seemed nowhere in England was safe.

Yet now, lying in Paul’s arms, Tina felt cocooned and her heart swelled with love. They were getting married, she would be his wife, and she’d never have to fear anything again.

Jenny was in the drawing room, wondering about the men who had called to see Marcos. He’d barely introduced them and they were now ensconced in his study, the door closed. It was Saturday, and they rarely entertained, other than the occasions Marcos allowed her to invite her parents to dinner, usually about once every seven to eight weeks. Marcos usually worked late and, as he was keen to have their weekends undisturbed, it wasn’t often they accepted a return invitation.

It was difficult because her dad wanted to see more of her, but Jenny had found it best to please her husband rather than her father. Marcos wanted her there when he was at home, which meant she was only free during the day, and her father was at work then.

What surprised Jenny was the growing relationship
she had with her mother. Their personalities were still miles apart, but on one occasion when her parents had been round for dinner, Jenny and Delia had found a shared interest in cooking. When her mother offered to teach her how to ice cakes, Jenny had taken her up on it, going for a lesson once a week. She was proficient now, but still called in to see her mother, the two of them now relaxed in each other’s company.

Jenny glanced at the clock and saw that Marcos had been in the study for over an hour. Though drinks had been refused on arrival, she thought the men might want one now.

‘Excuse me,’ she said, going into the study, ‘can I get you anything?’

‘I wouldn’t mind a beer,’ one said, and Jenny struggled to remember his name. She saw something on the desk, a drawing of some sort, a building, but then her view was blocked as Marcos stood up in front of her.

He looked annoyed, his tone hard when he spoke. ‘I’ll see to their drinks, and
do not
disturb us again.’

‘So…sorry,’ Jenny stuttered.

He grabbed her arm, almost pushing her out of the room, and as the door began to close Jenny heard someone say, ‘You jammy git, Marcos. She’s a bit of all right and I can see why you left…’

The rest of the words were cut off as the door was firmly closed. Upset, Jenny returned to the drawing
room. They had been married for over a year now, and there had been other occasions, like this one, when Marcos seemed a cold, hard stranger. Thankfully it didn’t happen very often, and mostly Jenny told herself she was happy, except for the fact that she hadn’t fallen for a baby. She was puzzled too by what she had overheard. What had Marcos left…or who?

‘I haven’t got beer, it’ll have to be whisky,’ Marcos said, pouring them all a drink.

‘Well, I ain’t complaining,’ Liam said.

‘Nor me,’ Steve agreed, slugging it back as if it were nectar.

Marcos poured him another measure. During the past year he’d kept a wary eye on Steve but, having found nothing to arouse his suspicions, he’d finally let him into the inner circle. The man had proved useful in finding the perfect target, and then in casing the joint, but there was a lot more planning still to do before Marcos was ready to make a move. He’d come this far by careful, meticulous attention to detail and he wasn’t about to start taking risks now.

He looked at the drawing again. Hatton Gardens, London’s diamond quarter, usually impenetrable, but they had found an easy way into one of the shops.

‘Steve, how can we be sure this man is going to cooperate?’

‘For one he’s a wimp, and, two, it’ll be me holding his wife and kids.’

‘I still don’t like it, boss,’ complained Bernie. ‘We haven’t done anything like this before. If we get nabbed the jury ain’t gonna take it too kindly.’

‘We won’t get caught,’ Marcos said, ‘but if you want out, say so now.’

‘No, no, I’m in, but I don’t know why we can’t just do it the old way.’

‘Look, Bernie, we walk in, and then walk out again. No walls to break through, no alarms, and no safe to crack. It’s perfect.’

‘He’s gonna know our faces,’ said Liam.

‘Not if they’re covered up, you moron,’ Marcos told him. Liam looked a bit peeved, but the other two were trying to suppress laughter. ‘All right, I shouldn’t have called you that, but you’ve got to admit you sound like an old woman. Here, have another drink.’

Mollified, Liam held out his glass. ‘I’m just making sure nothing can go wrong, that’s all.’

‘Right then, let’s go over the plans from start to finish again, and we’ll need a few more meets after this one until we’re sure the timing is perfect,’ Marcos said. He’d chosen to bring them here, away from any chance of prying eyes, or ears. There’d been a time, about a year ago, when something had niggled, a feeling that had passed now, but he’d learned to trust his instincts. He felt safe here. Other than a chosen few, so far this house was unknown to anyone else and he intended to keep it that way.

‘It’s simple enough,’ Steve said after they’d gone over it once more.

‘Right, that’s it for now,’ Marcos said, ‘but one for the road before you leave.’

Glasses filled, they drank the whisky and then Marcos escorted them out, and he was in a good mood afterwards when he walked into the drawing room. He’d been a bit short with Jenny, but now recalled that he hadn’t told her not to disturb them. She looked at him nervously.

‘It’s all right, darling,’ he said. ‘My fault and I’m sorry if I upset you.’

Relied flooded her features. ‘That’s all right, but who were those men?’

‘They work for me. I’m making a few changes to one of my premises. You probably spotted the plans.’

‘Yes, I saw them briefly.’

He waited for more questions, pleased when they didn’t come, and decided to reward her. ‘Would you like to invite your parents to dinner tomorrow?’

‘Yes, I’d love to.’

‘Give them a ring then.’

Jenny looked happy as she went to the telephone, but she had a much bigger surprise coming, one he had thought long and hard about. As soon as they’d pulled off this job, he was going to sell up the lot – the businesses, this place – and with Jenny on his arm he’d move to Spain. It wasn’t that there’d been any sign of trouble, in fact not a whisper from
the hags, his money keeping them nicely quiet, but he was sick of forking it out. Once he was out of the country they could say what they liked, do what they liked, but they wouldn’t be able to touch him.

Yes, a nice villa beckoned, and that left only one thing. It was about time Jenny fell pregnant. The words his mother had once said rose up to haunt him once more, but Marcos forced them, and her image, away. There was still time, lots of it, and in Spain he’d be completely relaxed, at ease, which was sure to make a difference.

Edward replaced the receiver. Late and short notice again, but Delia was sure to be pleased, as was he. He wanted to see more of his daughter, but at least Delia saw her regularly.

‘That was Jenny. We’ve been invited to dinner tomorrow,’ he said, returning to sit by the fire.

‘Oh, good, but I suppose it will just be us again. I really don’t understand Marcos. I’ve offered to introduce him to Penelope Grainger, and getting into that circle might be useful to him. He just isn’t interested.’

‘Delia, it’s you who wants to get in with them, but you’ve just got to accept that Marcos is a man who values his privacy.’

‘What about Jenny? They’ve been living in Almond Crescent for over a year, yet she hasn’t made any attempt to meet her neighbours.’

‘It’s her choice and as long as she’s happy, what does it matter?’

‘She seems so isolated.’

‘Of course she isn’t. She passed her test ages ago, tootles about in her car and comes round here to see you every week.’

‘But she hasn’t got any friends.’

‘Of course she has. What about the other young women she met in her cookery classes?’

‘Well, yes, she has mentioned meeting them for lunch occasionally.’

‘There you are then. Now stop worrying about Jenny. She’s fine, Marcos adores her and she wants for nothing. What more could a girl want?’

‘I know she wants a baby.’

‘There’s plenty of time,’ Edward said, then he yawned. ‘It was all right going to Kensington to see Beatrice and Tim, but I’m worn out.’

‘Isn’t their apartment lovely?’

‘Yes, very nice,’ he said, though he found it hard to sound enthusiastic about what he had considered over-the-top ostentation. The decor was all deep reds and golds, with dark wood furniture, high ceilings and chandeliers. As in Jenny’s house, Edward had found it hard to relax.

‘Did you notice the china? It must have cost a fortune.’

‘No, not really,’ he said, yawning again. They saw Beatrice and her husband about once a month and
that was enough for him. He had little in common with Timothy, found the man a bore, and Beatrice’s haughty manner was hard to swallow. Still, it made Delia happy to have her sister in the country again, and in her company they became like two peas in a pod, Delia always bragging about Jenny and Marcos, about their huge house and how well off they were, as if that gave her some sort of kudos just by association. Beatrice in turn talked about the fabulous parties she and Timothy went to, the influential people she met, including, it seemed, members of royalty. Yet, underlying this, there was no doubt the sisters were fond of each other.

‘I’m hoping to persuade Marcos to invite them to dinner soon.’

‘I don’t think he particularly enjoyed it when we took them to Kensington. Jenny may have wanted to see her aunt, but I got the feeling that Marcos didn’t.’

‘Nonsense, he was charming and Beatrice was very impressed. It’ll be Christmas soon and tomorrow I could hint that we all spend it together. They could invite Beatrice and Timothy and make it a lovely family Christmas.’

‘Don’t build your hopes up. Last year Marcos took Jenny to a hotel and he may be planning to do the same this year.’

‘I doubt it. Jenny would have said something, and anyway, it was different then. Things were still a little strained between us, but everything is fine now.’

For Delia’s sake, Edward hoped Marcos would agree to a family get-together, but he was difficult to read and he still hadn’t got to the bottom of the man’s character. Yes, he could be charming, the perfect host, but there was a reserve, a distance, as though they were having dinner with an acquaintance instead of their son-in-law. Still, he thought, give it time. Jenny was happy, and as long as she continued to be, that was all that mattered.