Scandal (15 page)

Chapter Sixteen

Finn’s return on Thursday was so different from when he’d been away before. Ashleigh was left breathless.  A knock on the door had puzzled her, wondering who it could be.  Finn’s gorgeous smile had melted her as she’d opened the door, moving quickly to his open arms.  The hungry kisses soon turned into passionate love making.  Lying on the lounge floor afterwards totally naked, only made them giggle.

   “What’s got into you?” Ashleigh asked cheekily.

   Raising himself onto one elbow he replied, “I’ve missed you so much.”  Kissing her again he went on to say, “Get dressed.  I’ll show you your present.” 

   Excitement set in at the thought of having a present to open.  He hadn’t bothered the last time he’d been away.

   The sequins on the short black dressed winked at her as the wrapping paper came away.  He could tell by her face she liked it.

   “Oh Finn it’s lovely.”

   “You’ll be able to wear it tonight.  I’ve booked a table for us.”  The little squeal of delight made Finn laugh.

   “I’d better get changed then,” she said, giving him a peck on the cheek as she left him.

   The love she felt for Finn was like nothing else she’d ever experienced.  Whilst in the shower, thoughts of their earlier love making came to her.  Wondering whether a baby was beginning its journey of life, warmed her more than the water from the shower.  How she longed to carry Finn’s baby.

   Finn had chosen a beautiful restaurant that evening, one which sat near a river.  There were luxury apartments across the river, set back a little from the embankment. 

   He’d chosen an expensive part of Leeds to dine.  Their conversation steered clear of all aspects of work, even his latest trip away.  He asked enthusiastically about how Ashleigh had been and what she’d done during his absence, however, his choice of words and tone of voice never once made her feel as though he was checking up on her.  They made love again that evening, this time less frantic, falling asleep in each other’s arms afterwards.

   The chinking of cups awoke Ashleigh at seven the next morning.  Finn’s heaviness leaning on the bed made her aware he was close by.

   “I’ve made you a cup of coffee love,” he said, as he planted a kiss on her lips.

   “You are so sweet to me Finn.  Thank you.”

   “It’s no more than you deserve Ashleigh.  You
are
my wife.” 

   Touching his face she said, “I know I am.  I love you so much.”

   “I thought you might like to stay here today, have a break from the office.  You deserve one.  I’ll be alright on my own,” he said.

   “Oh alright then, if you’re sure,” she added. 

   Sitting up in bed, Ashleigh enjoyed the warm cup of coffee, with thoughts skipping through her mind of how lucky and happy she was.  Love was such a wonderful thing, something she’d only ever had since meeting Finn.

He left for work shortly after seven thirty that morning.  The silence in the house didn’t seem as daunting now, knowing Finn would be back just after six o’clock.  Whenever he was working away, the silence in the flat had swamped the air with a sense of grief, making his time away from her feel so much longer. 

   The washing basket in the bathroom looked fit to burst; the extra shirts Finn had worn whilst away adding to the volume.  Having a washing machine was a luxury Ashleigh was grateful for.  Looking back at her childhood, they’d had to use the launderette.  It was mainly herself who’d trailed the two mile round trip twice a week with four big bags of dirty clothes.  If she’d left it up to mum, it’d never have been done. 

   Taking the first load of whites ready to be washed out of the washing basket, a sweet fragrance wafted by Ashleigh’s nose.  It was a smell she didn’t recognise; a smell which made her curious.  Finn wore aftershave regularly but she was certain it wasn’t one of his fragrances.  There were four white shirts, so picking them up one by one, Ashleigh began to sniff them.  On the collar of the third shirt, the distinctive smell of perfume was apparent.  Unsure of what that meant, all she could do was sit for a moment on the kitchen floor, numb with nausea.  Could it be a new aftershave?  Perhaps he’d bought it as a treat for himself whilst he’d been away.  Her gut feeling was the fragrance smelt too feminine to be a man’s aftershave.   Surely he wasn’t...?   She was unaware of the tears flowing freely down her cheeks, until her hands became damp from the droplets which fell.  The urge to vomit came on strong.  As Ashleigh sat there on the floor, her mind raced with more wild thoughts.  Thoughts far worse than she’d ever had before.  Was Finn having an affair?  She gasped at the possibility.  Not Finn!  Surely he wouldn’t do that, she hoped, not to her.  By now Ashleigh was trembling.  Leaving the shirts on the floor, she ran from the flat.  There wasn’t a plan for what she’d do next but her instinct took her to the church.  The door was closed to her and trying the handle frantically only confirmed it was locked.  Panic wracked her entire body.  The door was never locked during the day.  Where was Father Michael? 

   She turned and ran in the direction of the rectory, praying he was there.  When he saw her running down the gravel path from an upstairs window, he bolted for the door.  His first thoughts when he saw how distressed she was were that Finn had hit her again.  He tugged on the door, allowing her to run straight in.

   Putting an arm around her shoulders he guided her into the lounge.  She was very distraught, having to wait a long time until she was composed enough to speak.

   “I’m so sorry Father to trouble you, but I needed to talk to someone.” 

   Years ago, that someone would have been Simone but now-a-days, there always seemed to be a magnet drawing her to Father Michael.

   “Don’t be sorry,” he replied.  He waited but Ashleigh didn’t offer any more information.  After a long pause he asked, “Has Finn hurt you again?”

   “I don’t know Father.” 

   Confused by her answer he said, “I’m sorry, I don’t follow.” 

   There was much pain in her eyes as she spoke.

   “I think he’s having an affair.” 

   She broke down again at that point.  Father Michael had had his own suspicions of Finn months ago, but he wasn’t in any position to say that.

   “Why do you think that Ashleigh?”  His voice was soft and kind, encouraging her to confide in him.

   “His shirt, it smelt of perfume.”

   “Are you certain it was perfume?”

   “Well no, but he doesn’t have any aftershave which smells like that, not that I know of.” 

   Father Michael didn’t want to jump to the same conclusion Ashleigh had.

   “What if he’s bought a new one whilst he’s been away?” 

   He could tell she was contemplating this possibility, but something about the look on her face told him she didn’t believe that for a second.  Rising from her chair, she walked quickly over to the window.  Father Michael waited for her to speak.

   “I’m so confused Father about the thoughts I’ve had about him.  Some of these thoughts have been so evil.” 

   He was shocked now at her words.  He’d known Ashleigh for a while, and didn’t feel she was capable of ever having evil thoughts.

   “What do you mean?” 

   Taking a deep breath she said, “I’ve found things in his drawers which really don’t make any sense.  And then,” she rambled on breathlessly, “there are the business trips away, always with Miss Taylor.” 

   She was crying again so he went over to her.  He would have felt uncomfortable embracing her so instead he reached out, touching her shoulder gently.

   “What kind of things have you found Ashleigh?”  Again his voice had a way of encouraging her to speak.

   “I don’t know.  I was filing some papers when I found some files with invoices in.  There were bank statements too.  There have been large payments made to the same account every month, an account in Finn’s name.  Surely that’s wrong? 
There’s
a business account in the company’s name.  I thought all of the money should go in there.”  She wiped her tears, suddenly finding herself unable to stop talking.  “I also found duplicate invoices for each of our clients.  The duplicates are a few hundred pounds more than the other invoices which I think must be the client’s copies.”  Feeling more in control, she carried on.  “I don’t know what this means or even what I’m implying, but it feels wrong, so, so wrong.”  She paused.  “What if Finn is stealing money from the company; stealing from his own father?  But not only that,” she swallowed hard, hating to say the words lingering on her tongue, “what if he’s having an affair with Miss Taylor?”

   Father Michael sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair.  “Have you told anybody else what you think?”  She shook her head no.  “Good.  I think we should keep it to ourselves until …” 

   When he didn’t finish his sentence, she became worried. 

   Narrowing her eyes questioningly she said, “Until what Father?”

   His eyes were intent.  “Until we have proof.”

   “And then what?” 

   Ashleigh became frightened suddenly at the realisation of what she’d implied to someone.  Accusing her husband, the man she loved and who she thought loved her, of affairs and embezzlement.  It was bizarre.

   “If things don’t work out for you Ashleigh with him and you need a ticket to run, this could be it.” 

   “What do you mean a ticket to run?  I love him.” 

   Father Michael wasn’t sure either, exactly what he meant, but knew she’d already fallen victim to his aggressive behaviour.  What else was he capable of? 

   Instead of telling her he agreed with her theories, he smiled before saying, “Sit tight and try to forget about things.  Carry on as normal as possible.  Who knows, there might not be anything untoward going on at all.”  Even after the words had left his mouth, he knew Ashleigh’s concerns were correct and just.  To end things he said, “I think you should go home now and pretend we haven’t had this conversation.  Do you think you can do that?”  

   “Yes I think so.” 

   There was much uncertainty in her voice.  As Ashleigh left the rectory, Father Michael’s heart went out to this young woman who had such a huge burden to carry.  All he hoped was she
was
wrong.  Ashleigh was a lovely person with a genuinely kind heart.  If it hadn’t have been for the fact he was her priest, or a priest at all for that matter, he would have taken her in his arms that afternoon, holding her tight, offering her any security he could give her.  There was something about her he really liked.  It wasn’t just her vulnerability or her smile.  It went deeper than that but he didn’t know why or what.

   With quick steps, her small frame was soon out of view.  His heart remained feeling heavy for the rest of the afternoon.  Normally, he was able to offer advice to help people.  He didn’t know what he’d done for Ashleigh, whether he’d helped her or just made her situation more desperate.

Chapter Seventeen

The banner for the church’s summer fair blew gently in the warm breeze.  There was a buzz of excitement as helpers put the finishing touches to stalls, decorating fences and making sure they’d advertised the event as much as possible.

   Father Michael hadn’t a stall this time but his presence, he hoped, would help add to an excellent fund raising event.  All proceeds were to be put towards new security lights around the church.  He gave a wink as he walked by Ashleigh’s knitted teddy bear stall, causing her to blush a little.  Hoping he hadn’t noticed the flush in her cheeks, she hastily fiddled with the teddy bears, moving them around unnecessarily.  One bear had caught Ashleigh’s eye.  It was a large, knitted strawberry, wearing a scarf around its neck, with the words ‘I love you’ on its stomach.  Putting fifty pence into her float, Ashleigh moved the strawberry teddy onto one side.  It was a gift for Finn.

   At one fifteen the fair was opened.  Ample people flocked through the doors, filling the church hall and outside stalls quickly.  Ashleigh’s stall was soon inundated with youngsters, pleading with their parents to let them have a new edition to their bedrooms.  Forty five minutes later, her stall was almost bare.  Marjorie on the jam stall also had a productive afternoon, with only four pots of plum and six pots of strawberry left by three thirty.

   Since Father Michael had joined the parish, he’d seen additions to the congregation, making him feel proud of his own efforts since he’d joined.  Father Patrick had been held in high regard for years but having younger members now joining, accompanied by their children, was proving the church to be still very much alive.  The Sunday school was also thriving.

   The last of the stragglers left shortly after four o’clock, leaving behind many empty stalls.  Money collected would be forwarded to Mr Gregson to count, hopefully announcing how much had been raised in church the following morning.  With very little to pack away, Ashleigh was pleased to see Father Michael walking over to her stall.

   “You’ve had a good afternoon I see Ashleigh.”  Her beaming face told him she’d enjoyed herself.  He couldn’t help noticing how happy she actually was, something he’d never witnessed before.  “I can’t believe how happy you seem over a teddy bear stall,” he said as he perched himself on the end of her stall. 

   Leaning over the stall so she was a little closer to him, Ashleigh cleared her throat before she spoke.

   “It’s not just that it’s …”  She stopped, suddenly feeling embarrassed at what she was about to say.  Curious for the abrupt ending to her sentence, he pushed for an answer.

   “It’s what?”  His dark eyes were on her, searching her face.  She was un-aware of how close they were to each other, which didn’t seem to matter to them.  The way he was looking at her made her feel alive and wanted.  Realising he was her priest and that she was a married woman brought her to her senses.

   “I’m pregnant,” she said. 

   A pang of jealousy stabbed through his heart as soon as he heard those words.  He wasn’t sure whether it was because he’d never have the chance to experience fatherhood or whether it was something else.  His feelings for Ashleigh scared him.  It was absurd because he was a priest; her priest.  These kinds of feelings had to be suppressed.

   Clearing his throat he said, “Wow.  I’m really pleased for you.  How long have you known?”

   “I found out this morning.”

   “What did Finn say?”

   “I haven’t told him yet.  I thought I’d tell him tonight.”

   “Tell me what?”  Finn’s voice boomed from behind. 

   Ashleigh hadn’t seen him approaching as she’d had her head down, close to Father Michael.

   “Finn,” she began nervously.  “I didn’t see you there.”

   “Obviously.  You looked a little too engrossed in your chat with
him
to notice me.”  Father Michael stood up from the wooden stall, sensing Finn’s mood wasn’t good.  Finn squared up to him.  “So, what is it that she was going to tell me Father?”

   “It’s not my place to tell you,” Father Michael said as cool as he could, even though his heart was beating frantically.

   “Finn, don’t,” Ashleigh pleaded.  “Let’s go home.” 

   His head spun around to face her; the venom in his eyes frightening her.  Leaning over the stall he grabbed her wrist, pulling her roughly around to where he was standing.

   Almost dragging her he said, “Come on.” 

   Unable to do anything else, Ashleigh had no other choice but to follow behind feeling ashamed, the strawberry teddy she’d bought for him dropping to the floor as he’d tugged hard on her wrist.  The others in the hall looked on in bewilderment.

   Once at his car, he threw her into the passenger seat harder than he should have, causing her to hit her head.  She sat in silence on the way home as blood began to trickle down her face.  Finn’s chest heaved up and down as he drove, making it obvious he was angry, very angry.  Ashleigh could only think about what would become of this situation later, when behind closed doors.  She’d seen him angry before but this anger seemed more fuelled.  As he pulled up in the car and turned off the engine, he didn’t speak a word.  Instead, he marched round to the passenger side of the car, threw open the door, grabbing Ashleigh by the hair.  Her screams and pleas were ignored as he marched her into the flat.  Once the door was open he threw her aggressively onto the floor.

   “Finn, please stop,” she begged. 

   His anger was like that of a demented bear.  Completely petrified she lay on the floor, unable to move.  When she failed to move after his command to get up, again his large hand grabbed a handful of hair, dragging her to her feet.  He didn’t seem to notice the pain he was causing her.

   With a voice similar to a snarl he said, “Cosy with your boyfriend was you?  Laughing and joking behind my back?”

   “Finn, no.  You’ve got it all wrong, I swear.”

   Again her plea fell on deaf ears.    

   “You slut.  What was it you were going to tell me, aye?  That you were going to leave me.  Is that it?  You were going to leave me for that ... that ...?  Calls himself a man does he? ” 

   His grip on her hair was still tight, feeling as though with one more tug, a clump would come out.

   “You’ve got it all wrong Finn.  Please let me go, you’re hurting me.” 

   Begging for him to stop only seemed to fuel him more.  With the strength of a man possessed he grabbed her by the shoulders, smashing her into the wall.

   “Don’t insult me.  You and he have had a thing for each other for months.”

   Despite feeling so helpless at his hands, Ashleigh tried her hardest to make him understand it was all in his head. 

   “No Finn.  That just isn’t true.”

   “Shut up you bitch,” he bellowed, slapping her around the face. 

   There’d been violent times with her father which had left her feeling afraid, but this situation she found herself in was far worse than anything she’d ever suffered before.  Without warning, he flung her to the floor, kicking her in the stomach.  The shear pain she experienced after his kicks took her breath for a second.  Wrapping her arms around her stomach protectively, she remained on the floor in a foetal position.  The slamming of the door confirmed Finn had gone out.  Excruciating pain pierced her body, making it unbearable to move.  She felt paralysed and unable to think straight. 

   Sometime later, a knock on the door startled her.  It didn’t sound like a fierce knock so she knew it wasn’t Finn coming back.  She didn’t answer and the knock came again.

   “Ashleigh it’s me, Father Michael.  Are you alright?” 

   Relief replaced some of the intense pain.  Dragging herself along the floor, Ashleigh was eventually able to pull herself up in order to answer the door.  Father Michael was alarmed by what he saw.  Gently prising his way into the flat, he looked at Ashleigh’s pale face, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. 

   “Oh my goodness.  What has he done to you Ashleigh?”

   “Help me Father,” she pleaded. 

   Knowing Ashleigh was in need of urgent medical attention, he reached for his phone, immediately ringing for an ambulance.  He didn’t care if Finn walked in now.  Something in his gut had made him want to see Ashleigh after the anger he’d witnessed from Finn earlier that day.  It hadn’t bothered him if Finn didn’t like
him
or his presence.  Ashleigh was his concern and no matter what Finn had to throw at him, he’d have to deal with it.

   At the hospital, Ashleigh was given the attention she needed while Father Michael gave details to the medical staff.  It was difficult to do considering he didn’t really know much about her.  She needed four stitches to her forehead and three more to her head where Finn had pulled out a clump of her hair.  Ashleigh had mentioned she was in the very early stages of pregnancy.  Shattered by her ordeal, she found rest immediately.  The nurse pulled the curtain around her and asked Father Michael if she could speak with him.

   She was a large lady with a generous smile and Father Michael warmed to her instantly. 

   Taking a seat next to him she said, “Can you give us any information as to what happened?”

   “I think it was her husband who did this to her,” he began.  “I’ve witnessed his aggressive nature before and there was an occasion when he pushed her, making her need stitches in her head.  I brought her here for it stitching so you should have mention of that on her records.”

   “Are you certain it was him Father?”

   “Earlier today, he came to meet Ashleigh from the church hall.  It was our summer fair.  She’d just told me some personal news when he turned up.  Immediately, he became aggressive, grabbed her and dragged her away.  I didn’t know what to do, but watching her being dragged away like that was horrible.”  He took a breath before carrying on.  “I waited half an hour before I went round to her flat.  At that point I didn’t care if Finn was there.  Luckily he wasn’t.  I knocked on the door, it took her a while to answer and having seen the state she was in, I called an ambulance.”

   “You did the right thing Father.  Have you called the police?”

   “No.  I think it should be Ashleigh’s decision.”

   “You’re right,” she said, hoping Ashleigh was brave enough to go through with it. Having witnessed domestic violence too many times to count, she knew many women were reluctant to proceed to the next stage.  They left the hospital, went back to their abuser, waiting for it to happen again.

   “Did Ashleigh mention she was pregnant?” Father Michael asked.

   “Fortunately yes.”

   “Will the baby be alright do you think?”

   “That Father, I really can’t say.  If she is able to get through the next couple of days without bleeding, there is every chance her baby will be fine.  But,” she began, her expression changing, “with the severe bruising she’s sustained around her abdomen and ribs, I doubt it very much.”  They stood up to leave.  As they left the side room, the sister turned to look at Father Michael.  “She’s resting now and I think she will be for a while.  Go home and get some rest yourself.  You can come back later if you need to.” 

   Disappointment fell upon him like a blanket of despair.  Having such a strong sense of protectiveness towards her made it hard for him to walk away.  He had no other choice but to listen to the advice the nurse had given him.  After leaving his details on the ward, he made his way home.  Part of him felt he was grieving.  Why that was, he couldn’t answer.

Father Michael didn’t recognise the dark blue car parked outside the rectory upon his return.  He did however recognise the silver haired gentleman waiting in it as he approached.

   “Father Lucas,” Father Michael began.  “What brings you here?” 

   The appearance of Father Lucas, such an important figure in the Catholic Church, presented both concern and shock to Father Michael.

   Holding out his hand he replied, “Is there somewhere private we could go?”

   “Yes of course.  Please, do come in Father.”  They went into the lounge.  A stream of late summer sunshine filtered in through the window warming the room to a comfortable temperature.  “Can I get you a drink of anything?  Tea? Coffee?”

   “Yes please.  I’ll have tea.”  Father Michael made himself scarce in the kitchen, preparing tea in China cups he’d never had cause to use before.  The tray shook in his hands as he made his way back to the lounge to face the man he felt was his executioner.  Just his presence in the room felt unjust.  Father Lucas didn’t drink his tea immediately.  Sitting back on the settee, he waited for Father Michael to take his seat.  “Do you know why I’m here Father Michael?” he began.