The Broken Man (23 page)

Miss Martin extended her hand. ‘Well, thank you for returning these, officer. I do hope that whatever is in here will bring some kind of closure to Adam.’

‘Yes, I imagine it will. These items eventually proved to be of small significance to us, but to Adam, they are part of his mother’s belongings.’

‘So, there’s nothing in here that belonged to his father, is there? Only, I’m not sure he—’

The officer sensed her concerns. ‘No. In the light of ongoing enquiries, we have duly retained certain items particular to Edward Carter. Which will in the course of time be returned.’

With that, he shook her hand, bade her goodbye, and left.

On leaving the office, he recognised Adam, seated forlornly on the bench by Miss Martin’s office. He greeted the boy, who nodded slightly, but seemed to be miles away in his thoughts.

Once outside, the officer stood a moment, thinking of what that young boy had gone through: no home of his own; his mother lying in the churchyard; and his father jailed for a great number of years. Added to which it had transpired that he had only two distant relatives, neither of which had a yearning to take on a troubled young boy. He hoped that by the time Carter was released, the boy would be a full-grown man. If the police successfully managed to uncover his suspected other illegal activities, this seemed highly likely.

A moment or so later, Miss Martin came out of her office and ushered Adam inside. ‘We’ve got a while yet before the family arrive,’ she informed him excitedly, ‘but in the meantime, I have something for you. Sit down, Adam, please. Sit down opposite me.’

When he was sitting, she informed him, ‘The gentleman you probably saw leaving just now was from the police.’ Concerned when she saw him press nervously back into his chair, she quickly assured him, ‘There is nothing wrong, Adam. He just came to return something that belongs to you.’

Adam was surprised. ‘Something that belongs … to me?’

‘Yes, Adam. This box and everything in it belongs to you, Adam. That’s why the officer was here. The police have no further use for this, and so he’s brought it here for you.’

‘Is it my mother’s stuff?’

‘Possibly, I don’t know. It is not for me to pry into your belongings, Adam. But, he did say there are certain items that might belong to you, and maybe some of your mother’s things … I have no idea. That’s for you to discover.’

Choking back tears, he asked brokenly, ‘Can I see it, please, Miss Martin?’

‘But of course!’ She got out of her seat and gently inched the box forwards until it was within reach. ‘Would you like me to leave you alone for a while?’

Adam shook his head.

‘So, you want me to stay here, with you?’

‘Yes, please.’

‘Very well.’

She sat down with a bump. ‘Remember, these belong to you, Adam. They’re yours to keep.’ She added wisely, ‘You understand, it may not be good for you to keep it all in the dormitory, but I have a big enough safe here, in this office. I can keep anything precious here, locked away, and of course you may ask to see it any time.’

‘Thank you, Miss Martin.’ His fingers played on the box lid. ‘Can I open it now?’

‘But of course! That’s why I called you in.’

She asked again just to be sure, ‘Are you certain you wouldn’t prefer to open the box without me here?’

‘No, miss. I’d like you to stay with me … please?’

‘Of course.’

A moment later, she watched as he tore back the sealing tape and opened the lid.

One by one, he removed the items. There was a diary, beautifully written, seemingly in the delicate, sweeping hand of his mother. Thinking it might be too personal, he put that aside for the moment.

There was his father’s old bunch of keys, which he recognised but did not want to touch. Gingerly sweeping them into a corner of the box, he continued to dig down.

He found all manner of things he had never seen before: a small rag doll with one eye; a tray of jewellery, which he tenderly put aside while he continued to empty the box. Then there were a number of items from his own bedroom: a pile of
Beano
comics; his school books, and a tied-up roll of posters.

There were other miscellaneous items, some of which he had occasionally seen and others he had never seen before, such as a pile of documents and letters, neatly rolled and labelled.

Alongside these were his mother’s handbag and purse containing little of any significance.

When the box was emptied and all items laid across the desk, Adam began to cry … softly at first. Then he was shaking, seared with pain.

He realised how the remains of his old life and that of his mother were now reduced to empty, useless things that only served to hurt him all the more.

Then he felt Miss Martin’s chubby arms about him, and he nestled into them. For a while neither of them spoke. Until Adam told her, ‘Can you please lock it away?’

‘Yes, Adam. I can do that for you. But is there nothing at all that you might like to keep in your own locker?’

He shook his head.

‘But you haven’t even looked at your mother’s jewellery. Maybe you could take one very small thing?’

She understood his pain, but sometimes having some small thing that had been close to the one you love and miss, did actually help. Sadly, she reflected, she knew that more than most, as her fingers now went to the little trinket around her neck.

‘I’m sure your mother wouldn’t mind. What do you think, Adam?’

It seemed an age before he looked at her with brimming eyes. It was an even longer age before he told her shakily, ‘Yes, please.’

Taking a long, easy sigh, she patted him on the back and smiled. ‘I’m glad,’ she said, hugging him tight. ‘Right! So let’s take a look at the tray of jewellery, shall we? And see if anything appeals to you.’

She watched while Adam gently trawled through his mother’s precious items. She could see how difficult it was for him, but she also knew it would not be right for her to take charge. This was Adam’s moment. It was crucial that he and he alone should complete what must be a very traumatic ordeal for him.

She stayed by his side, occasionally encouraging him, as he lifted one item after another, until finally, he was left with the prettiest silver locket on a chain.

‘Mum used to wear this all the time,’ he said proudly. ‘Father didn’t like it. He wanted her to always wear the things he had bought her. Most times she did, because he would get angry if she didn’t. But whenever she took me out, she always wore this locket.’

Miss Martin understood. ‘It obviously meant a lot to her. Maybe her parents bought it for her, did they?’

Adam tried to remember what his mother had told him. ‘No. It wasn’t her parents. It was a friend. That’s right … She said a really good friend bought it for her when they were young. She said it was two days before her birthday. She and some other friends had gone to Southend, and that’s when she was given it as a present. She said it was a secret, hers and mine, and that I must never tell Father.

‘One time I heard him ask her where she had got such a cheap thing from, and she told him that she had bought it for herself, because she thought it was pretty.’ Adam remembered the conversation he had overheard. ‘Father told her she was never to wear it when they went out together, because he did not want people to see her wearing such a cheap and nasty thing, and he certainly did not want his friends to think he could not afford to buy his wife decent jewellery.’

Miss Martin was beginning to grow curious. It was an intriguing story.

‘I see. And so, after that whenever she went out with your father, she never wore it, is that the way it was?’

‘Yes, I think so.’

‘And you think this locket meant a great deal to her, don’t you?’

‘Oh, it did, yes! She told me it was very special, and she would never get rid of it, whatever Father said.’

‘Well, there you go then, Adam. It was obviously a very special present … from a very special friend.’ She wondered about Peggy Carter and, being a woman, she understood why Adam’s mother might cherish that pretty silver locket, though her own romantic past was long gone now.

Adam went on, ‘Mum never told me who her friend was, but I think it was a lovely present.’

‘And now, it’s in your safekeeping. And I think you made a very good choice to keep with you, Adam.’

Adam’s tears had subsided and now he smiled up at her. ‘Thank you. Miss Martin, would you like to hold the locket?’

‘Oh, yes, please. I really would like that, Adam. Thank you.’

When he now raised the silver locket, she held out her hand while he carefully folded it across her chubby fingers.

Turning it this way and that, she took a moment to examine it. Noting the small heart etched into the deep, graceful surface and the raised flowers within, she was impressed by the complexity of craftmanship. ‘Your father was very wrong to call this “cheap and nasty”. It’s incredibly pretty. I can certainly see why your mother might have appreciated it.’

She was convinced that it was a lover’s gift and she continued to turn it around, greatly impressed by its simple beauty; so strong, yet so delicate.

She was just about to return it to Adam, when something caught her eye. ‘I can’t be sure,’ she said, ‘but I think it opens. Did you know that, Adam?’

‘No.’ Adam was surprised. ‘I’ve never seen my mum open it.’

Miss Martin showed him. ‘Look!’ She raised it up to him. ‘Can you see that? I might be wrong, and it could be just a natural swelling within the etching, but it does look like a sort of little catch, don’t you think, Adam?’ She now handed it to him. ‘Just there … see?’ She brought his attention to the rim of the locket and the minutely raised area that was skilfully built into the pattern. ‘That’s the sign of good workmanship, if I’m any judge at all.’

In fact, the pattern and the catch itself were so cleverly integrated that if she had not turned it over at just the right angle, she would probably have missed seeing the catch.

Excited, Adam tried to move the tiny catch one side and then the other, but it was difficult. ‘Do you think there’s anything in there?’ he asked, wide-eyed.

Miss Martin had seen these lockets before. ‘In Victorian times, people would hide a lock of hair in this kind of locket, to remember a loved one, but I’m sure that isn’t the case here. And if your mother did put something in there, she obviously didn’t want anyone to find it. So, maybe you should let sleeping dogs lie, so to speak.’

Adam had not thought of that. ‘What, you think she put something in there to hide it from my father? Is that what you mean?’

‘Well, I don’t know, and neither do you. But of course the locket is yours now, and it’s you who must make the decision to open it or to leave it as your mother left it, well and truly closed.’

Adam was at a loss. ‘Maybe there’s nothing in it anyway.’

‘Yes, that could be very true. As for finding out, I must not persuade you one way or the other. Besides, from the way the catch seems to be stuck hard, it could well be that the locket has never been opened.’

Adam, however, was of a different mind. ‘If it has not been opened, then there won’t be anything inside, so it won’t matter if I look, will it?’

‘Well, yes, that’s very true.’

‘But, if Mum did hide something there, it was so my father could never find it, though I don’t think she would mind me looking inside.’ Nevertheless, he was concerned. ‘But if there is something hidden inside, why did she not show me? She knows I never would have told.’

‘Well, of course you wouldn’t. Nice people would never tell other people’s secrets.’

Adam was in a quandary. ‘I don’t know what to do now.’

He wanted so much to believe that his mum had been clever enough to outwit his father. That would be just wonderful! But was it too prying to open the locket? What if his mum never wanted him to see what was in there?

‘Maybe I should think about it some more,’ he suggested.

‘Yes, I believe that to be a very good idea. Now then, what shall we do with it while you’re thinking?’ Miss Martin was relieved at his sensible decision. ‘Shall we lock it up now, or do you want to keep it with you?’

‘Can I really keep it with me?’

‘Of course, but it would not be wise to show it around.’

‘I won’t do that. I’ll keep it safe next to me. I’ll wear it under my shirt and when we do PE I’ll hide it in my mattress.’

Miss Martin smiled. She had just learned a tiny bit of useful information. ‘Would you like me to take care of the other items?’

‘Yes, please.’

‘Then consider it done.’

At that moment a knock came on the door, followed by the flustered Mrs Baker, Miss Martin’s assistant. ‘Mrs Dexter just called.’ She explained. ‘They apologise profusely. The babysitter let them down, but they’ve managed to solve the problem, and they hope to be here in about half an hour, if that suits us?’

‘Oh, my word, yes, of course. As a matter of fact, it would suit me better. I quite got carried away with other matters and didn’t realise the time. Yes, of course. Tell Mr and Mrs Dexter that we’re looking forward to receiving them.’

With Mrs Baker gone, Miss Martin smiled down on Adam. ‘As you know, it’s unusual for me to allow private things of any value to be kept with the child concerned, but I believe you are a sensible boy, that you will be discreet, and inform me if there’s a problem.’