Queen of the Mersey (57 page)

‘Please. And ask when he’ll be ready. I’m longing to see him.’ She would only go once, say goodbye to her beloved Theo for the final time.

The phone continued to ring all morning. Sometimes Queenie answered, sometimes Roddy. It went about midday, and this time it was Roddy who picked up the receiver.

‘What!’ he said in a stunned voice. He listened, nodding grimly. ‘I see. Well, thanks for telling us. I understand there was nothing you could do. Goodbye.’

‘What’s wrong?’ Queenie asked, alarmed by the expression on his face. ‘Has something happened to Hester or Gus?’

‘No, that was Austin’s. Their men went to the hospital, only to be told Theo’s body had already been taken away.’

‘Who by?’ She knew the answer before the words were out of her mouth.

‘His family; his wife and daughters.’

Queenie rested her head in her hands and stared at the wall, though saw nothing.

If Irene thought she was wreaking revenge for past hurts, she was badly mistaken. Theo was dead, and she didn’t begrudge his family weeping and wailing over his stolen corpse.

‘They sound an unpleasant lot,’ Roddy said quietly.

‘Did Austin’s know where Theo had been taken?’

‘They’ve no idea.’

The telephone rang again. ‘It’s Steven Vandos,’ Roddy said, handing her the receiver.

‘Queenie!’ Steven said breathlessly. ‘I’ve only just got up. I didn’t arrive until late last night. You’ll never guess—’

Queenie cut him short. ‘I know what’s happened, Steven. All I want to know now is where Theo is?’

‘Here, in the house. It’s a bloody nightmare. Can I come and stay in the flat?’

‘Any time, Steven. You’re always welcome, you know that.’

When Queenie entered the church, the front pews were already packed and Irene Vandos, sitting at the end of the first row turned, lifted her black veil, and gave her a look of such hatred that she flinched. Irene must have been waiting for her, waiting to give her the look, storing it up for days, perhaps years.

Queenie pretended not to notice. Theo’s open coffin stood in front of the altar.

She walked towards it, an expectant smile on her face. She hadn’t seen him since he’d been taken from the flat ten days ago. Dressed in a white satin robe, his hands bent around the brass crucifix that lay on his chest, he looked peaceful, young again, his face unlined. It would be easy to believe he’d merely gone asleep, that any minute he would open his eyes, smile, say, ‘Hello, Queenie, my love.’

‘Goodbye, my dearest Theo,’ she whispered. She kissed her fingers and pressed them lightly against his icy cheek. ‘Sleep well.’ Taking one, last look, she walked away, head held high, to the rear of the church, where Roddy was waiting with her mother and about a dozen Freddy’s staff; Roy Burrows, who’d been Theo’s loyal second-in-command for over twenty years, two senior managers, the youngest employee, the oldest, the longest-serving, and a representative, chosen by lot, from each floor.

That afternoon, Freddy’s was closing. The staff would gather in the restaurant in honour of Theo. Hester and Mary were coming and a few other people she would have invited to the funeral had she organised it herself. Out of courtesy, Steven was going back to his mother’s house where a feast had been laid on for the mourners. He was coming to Freddy’s later.

The church service was dignified and moving, conducted by a tall priest with a black beard dressed in a magnificently embroidered robe. The church reeked with the pungent smell of incense. But these people, the ones at the front, had never loved Theo as she had. Most she didn’t recognise. She was glad when it was over, and left quickly, before Irene could waylay her and come out with a mouthful of bile.

Back at Freddy’s, the shop seemed rather forlorn, closed on a weekday, not a soul going in or coming out. She took the lift to the top floor, went into the flat and took off her hat and black lace gloves. She stood in front of the wardrobe mirror and combed her hair. The mirror revealed a still pretty woman, even though she’d turned forty-eight only the other day. If there was grey in her hair, she couldn’t see it, and her figure was as slim as it had always been, possibly slimmer as she hadn’t eaten much lately. Would Theo have remembered it was her birthday? she wondered. He’d been terribly vague over the last few weeks. Sighing, she dabbed a hint of rouge on her pale cheeks, and renewed her lipstick.

Then she took a deep breath and went down to the restaurant where the staff were waiting.

She gasped when she entered the room and saw that every table was covered with flowers. There were more on the piano and the window sills, even some lying on the floor. The air was heavy with their strong, heady perfume.

A gradual silence had fallen as people began to notice she was there. Then, out of the silence, someone started to clap and soon the entire room were applauding, clapping her, Queenie Tate.

She was too stunned to speak, just stood there while people came up and shook her hand, hugged her, kissed her, said how sorry they were that Mr Theo was dead. There’d never be another boss like him. ‘You made him very happy, luv.’

Her voice returned. ‘Thank you,’ she murmured. ‘Thank you, very much. And thank you for the flowers. They’re beautiful.’

‘We thought they’d be better here, where everyone can see ’em, rather than in some foreign church.’

The kitchen staff came in with trays of wine and cups of tea. Queenie felt badly in need of both. She gulped down the tea, took a glass of wine, and began to circulate, shaking more hands, assuring people over and over that, no, Freddy’s wasn’t going to close because Theo was dead.

‘But I think we need to make some improvements,’ she said. ‘I’m not sure which floor to start on. Theo and I were discussing it not long before he died.’

She was inundated with suggestions, too many to remember, so asked for them to be written down and submitted to her office.

Steven arrived with a woman Queenie had never seen before; not very tall, painfully thin, her plain face devoid of make-up.

‘You don’t remember me, do you?’ the woman said. ‘I’m Stephanie Vandos. Perhaps we can talk later. It’s a bit hectic now.’

Hester and Mary came and gave her a hug and a kiss. Ned and Duncan sent their condolences. ‘And you know, Queenie, you can always rely on me and Hes,’ Mary said warmly. ‘No one could have looked after us in Caerdovey better than you.

Now it’s our turn to look after you.’

Queenie rather hoped she wouldn’t need looking after, but thanked them all the same.

After an hour or so, people began to drift away, much to her relief, as she was feeling very emotional and yearned for a good cry. On top of everything else, she had been deeply touched to discover the staff thought so well of her. ‘He’s lucky to have had you, dear,’ Mr Harper from Gentlemen’s Toiletries had said.

Stephanie Vandos approached. ‘Could I have a word?’

‘Let’s sit in the corner.’ She pointed to a table covered with red roses.

‘Everyone will have gone soon.’

She hoped the woman hadn’t come with a nasty message from her mother, but the first words Stephanie said were, ‘I’m sorry about everything that’s happened, particularly this last thing with Father’s body. I was wholly against it, but once Mother gets something into her head there’s no stopping her.’

‘It’s a pity you didn’t come when Theo was alive,’ Queenie said coolly. ‘He often spoke about you and your sister. He missed you both terribly.’

‘The trouble is,’ Stephanie said in her dry, flat voice, ‘my mother is the sort of person who never forgives and never forgets. When she and father split, we were told never to contact him, to have nothing whatsoever to do with him again.

If we had, she would never have forgiven us.’

‘What about Steven? It seems she forgave him.’

‘That’s because Steven’s Steven. He can charm the birds off the trees. She never expected loyalty from him. But you see, although I loved my father,’ Stephanie explained, ‘I loved Mother more. She was the unhappy one, the loser in the situation, not him. That’s how Lila and I saw it.’

Queenie felt her cheeks flush. ‘I’m not in the mood for a row. If you’re going to be unpleasant, I’d sooner you left.’

‘I was just telling you how Lila and I saw things. I know full well Mother’s no saint, but she needed our support. In order to give it, she lay down conditions.

We complied, we had no choice, because we loved her. To tell the truth, I would have quite liked to get to know you.’ She plucked a petal off a rose and began to stroke the velvety surface. ‘I remember seeing you at Lila’s twenty-first.

Father kept looking at you and I thought you seemed very nice. If things had gone differently, I think you would make a great friend. Steven was always on about you.’ She looked at Queenie shyly. ‘I’ve been in need of a friend since my parents split up. Lila was married, Steven away most of the time, and Mother –

well, she was busy being herself.’ Her gaunt face wore an expression of utter weariness. ‘It’s been hard,’ she sighed.

‘You never married?’ Queenie said softly.

‘I nearly did, but mother refused to have him in the house. His name was John.

In the end, I just gave up. I didn’t have the energy to fight any more.’

‘It’s not too late for us to become friends. Your mother need never know. Come round some time and we’ll have dinner. Oh,’ she cried, ‘I wish Theo had known you were so unhappy. He would have done something about it – he had a thing about blood relatives sticking together, no matter what they’d done. He bullied me into getting to know my own horrible mother when she turned up out of the blue. I’ve never regretted it.’

‘Strange,’ Stephanie muttered, tearing the petal into two pieces.

‘What’s strange about it?’ Queenie asked curiously. Someone shouted, ‘Tara, Miss Tate,’ and she waved. Roddy came towards her, but she shook her head slightly.

He nodded and went to talk to Hester.

‘The “blood relative” bit,’ Stephanie said hesitantly. ‘I shouldn’t really tell you this, but I’ve always wanted to get it off my chest.’ She took a deep breath. ‘One day, Mother was particularly mad. I think it was when she learnt about the boat. She used to have you followed in those days, did you know?’

Queenie nodded. ‘Anyway, she was in a terrible state. She told me Theo wasn’t our father, that it was someone else, a man called Peter Vandos, a cousin, who’d lived in Liverpool when she was young. They’d had an affair. I asked why she hadn’t married him, and she said that love wasn’t nearly as important as money, which is why she’d married Theo Vandos instead.’

Queenie could feel a pulse beating madly in her throat. ‘That can’t be true,’

she said. ‘I’ve met Peter Vandos. He left Liverpool about a year after your mother and Theo married.’

‘Well, that could account for Steven and Lila, wouldn’t it? They’re only twelve months apart. Perhaps Mother conceived me on Kythira. She used to go every year to stay in grandfather’s villa. Peter was living there by then, and Father –

Theo,’ she shrugged, ‘whatever, only came for the last week.’

‘I see,’ Queenie said faintly. If this were true, if Theo had known, he could have divorced Irene for adultery.

‘Please don’t tell Steven and Lila what I’ve told you. Mother was terrified when she realised what she’d done. She made me promise not to breathe a word to a soul.’

‘I think I know why.’

‘Anyway,’ Stephanie was looking slightly more cheeerful, ‘about the invitation to dinner, I’d love to come. When are you moving out of the flat?’

‘I’ve no intention of moving anywhere.’

‘Oh! Mother has a copy of father’s Will. It says everything has been left to her. There’s no mention of you.’

‘I think you’ll find it’s a bit out of date. Theo’s last Will leaves everything to me, apart from a few bequests to his children and some of the staff.’

Stephanie laughed. ‘I think I’ll find a reason to go away for the next few days.

I’d sooner not be there when Mother finds out; she’ll blow her top. Love does have its limits, you know. Anyway, she’ll still be comfortably off.’

Sleep was impossible. She tossed and turned, beat the pillow with her fist, thinking about Steven, six inches taller than Theo, broader, and so similar to Peter Vandos she wondered why she hadn’t seen it before. Had Theo noticed their similarity? She doubted it, convinced he would have mentioned it if he had.

She turned over again, shook the pillow again, willed herself to sleep, when there was an unearthly crash from down below that sent all thoughts of sleep out of her mind. She sat up, trembling, wondering what on earth it could be.

There was a knock on the door. ‘Queenie. Did you hear that?’ It was Steven.

‘Yes. It sounded like a bomb.’

‘I’ll go and investigate.’

‘I’ll come with you.’ She slid out of bed and put on dressing gown and slippers and they crept downstairs together. The source of the noise was found, almost immediately. In the restaurant, one of the chandeliers, the centre one, had fallen to the ground, leaving a gaping hole in the ceiling. The mess on the floor resembled a modern work of art; half a dozen smashed tables, a huge mound of twinkling crystal, mixed with hundreds and hundreds of flowers.

‘Well, at least I know which floor to start on,’ Queenie said later when she and Steven were calming their nerves with alcohol; whisky, which she hated, but Steven said it would do her good.

‘I was thinking Freddy’s was looking a bit dilapidated,’ he said, lighting a cigarette.

‘Now it’s falling to pieces. The restaurant will have to close and the other chandeliers be taken down.’ She shuddered. ‘Thank God it didn’t happen while anyone was there.’

‘Father always wanted me to take over Freddy’s. I’m glad things went the way they did and it’s your responsibility.’

‘Do you fancy sharing the responsibility with me? Theo would have liked that.

I’m nervous at having to do it on my own.’

‘Not on your life!’ He grimaced. ‘I’m sorry you’re nervous, but I can’t wait to get back to New York.’

‘Not Hollywood?’

‘I’ve still got my apartment there, but the soap I’m in is being shot in a studio in New York.’