Ursula's Secret (31 page)

“Mr Chizumu. Good afternoon. What can I do for you?” As soon as she’d felt her phone vibrate in her pocket, Lexy had stepped out of Evie’s room. She pushed through the door from the corridor to the empty stairwell as she spoke, perched herself on the top step of the downward flight and wondered what bombshell the legal profession had in store for her now. She’d thought her business with Chizumu & Chizumu had been concluded, but clearly not.

“Rather more a case of what we can do for you, I believe, Miss Shaw. I’ve just been speaking to Ms Hamilton in our Edinburgh office.” Lexy curbed her impatience. She knew precisely where the inimitable Ms Hamilton worked. “I understand you were talking to Ms Hamilton’s assistant about the tenancy agreement drawn up on Miss Reid’s croft in the Scottish Highlands.”

“Yes that’s right, I was. He expressed surprise that it was in the current file when it should have been archived—”

“Yes, yes. Which would imply we legal creatures are mere humans capable of misfiling material. But I’m delighted to say it seems we are not. Ms Hamilton says the lease was kept in the current file at Miss Reid’s request. In case anyone should come across it … inadvertently, let’s say. The correct paperwork sits in an entirely different file. The lease merely acts as a reminder to the lawyer in charge of Miss Reid’s affairs. However, in the light of current circumstances, and in view of the speculation surrounding the whereabouts of certain funds—”

“Please, Mr Chizumu, come to the point.” Lexy was not in the mood for rigmarole.

“Of course, I simply want to make it clear, that although it’s all been a little irregular in administrative terms, we have not in any way been remiss in attending to our fil—”

“Mr Chizumu, please.”

“Yes. Quite. Well, it transpires that in fact ownership of the property was transferred for an amount which can only have been a token payment—”

“To whom, Mr Chizumu?” Lexy cut in, proud of her punctilious use of that relative pronoun, under such trying circumstances.

“Ross Buchanan-Munro.”

Evie heard Lexy come back into the room but didn’t open her eyes, feigning sleep as she replayed the consequences of her betrayal over and over in her head, trying to find the words that would make it more palatable, make herself less culpable. But there were none. The truth, unadorned and unmitigated, was what Helen’s granddaughter deserved. Evie knew that now.

She flicked open her eyes, saw Lexy watching her, turning her phone over and over in her hands, before dropping it into the bag that lay at her feet.

“Well? Were you going to tell me Ross survived? I know he did, so don’t bother denying it, and I know where he is, too. Are you going to tell me how that happened, or why you said Helen shot him? Has this all been some ridiculous, elaborate lie?” Lexy’s voice was low, but her anger was clear, colder now than it had been before. Her posture was cowed, as if she knew what was coming would be bad, not at all what she wanted to hear.
Poor girl,
Evie thought. All she’d wanted was to find a family, somewhere to belong. And instead … But there could be no going back. Evie was reconciled to having to tell her it all.

“No, not a lie. He was shot, yes, but he did survive.”

“She
left
him there?”

“She didn’t know. Cameron had checked for a pulse, said he was dead—”

“And she didn’t bother to check for herself.”

Evie sighed. How could she make Lexy understand? She’d never met Cameron, never faced the demon.

“Hear me out before you judge her.”

Lexy crossed her arms and legs, slouched back in the plastic chair and tilted her chin. “Go on, then, I’m listening.”

Cameron, of course, had bided his time, kept away from her until he’d worked out his next move, but then he came to find her, as Evie had known he eventually would.

Evie had been sitting in the garden, her book closed on her lap, a finger marking her place. Impossible to read. All she could think about was Helen. How she missed her. How she hoped their plan would work and keep her and Izzie safe. Sister Agnes had agreed to help, as Evie had hoped, and it had all been surprisingly easy to arrange. Helen was safe now. Evie could relax.

She’d turned her face up to feel the warmth of the early morning sun and tried to still her thoughts. A shadow fell and she snapped open her eyes. The sun was directly behind him and he was just a darkened silhouette to her sun-drenched gaze.

“May I join you?”

The moment he spoke, she sat upright. Those silken tones made her flesh crawl. Cameron sat next to her on the bench, too close for comfort, but when she tried to move away to the far end, his hand grasped her wrist. “If you want to hear what I have to say, Evie, and believe me you will, I suggest you stay exactly where you are.”

“You have nothing to say that I want to hear. I’m quite sure of that.” Evie tried to pull his hand from her arm, but he simply squeezed harder.

“I think I do. We could start, perhaps, with the fact that we both know Helen is still alive. That you’ve hidden her away somewhere. I’m sure if I really tried, I could find her.”

The sun no longer felt warm and she stopped trying to move away from him.

“That’s better.” He let go her arm. It throbbed, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of rubbing it, of letting him know he’d hurt her.

“Now, where was I? Yes, Helen. Alive. But then you know that. In fact, you told me.”

Evie’s stomach clenched. Stupid, stupid woman. She’d known he wouldn’t have missed it, her carelessness. She’d betrayed Helen, put her in danger. What was Cameron going to do?

“You didn’t mean to, of course.” He was smiling, obviously enjoying her discomfort. “But you’ve never been much of a dissembler, Evie. Too much Christian honesty bred into you back in that cold old manse. You shouldn’t ever let anger goad you into revelation, my dear. And you did, didn’t you? Or was it that you’d had too much champagne? So unlike you. And there I was. So recently bereft and you had no pity in your heart for me, the poor young widower left with a young bewildered boy to care for—”

“Enough, Cameron. I didn’t fall for it then and I won’t now. You have no audience to impress here. Spare me the performance. What do you want?”

“Why, to chat about the old days. About my darling wife. Her lovely children. My own lovely son.”

He was watching her closely and saw her flinch at that.

“That’s right, Evie. I know that too, you see. All your little secrets are safe with me. For the moment. But she must have told you I knew about the boy. Quite a scam, really.” He laughed with genuine pleasure. “Can’t say it was easy resisting the temptation to tell dear old Gregory. Can you imagine, the poor fool. A honeybird in his nest all that time and he had no idea at all. I have to say I was impressed. You all managed the situation very well. But I’m not here to go over old ground. David is mine, but I won’t go public on that. I want him to have Buchanan’s, you see. No, I’m here to talk about the other one. Young Ross and what happened to him. That’s something you don’t know and I think you’ll be interested, if not a little shocked, to learn the truth.”

“I do know, Cameron. So whatever you hope to gain by revealing that tragedy to me, or whatever lies you’re planning to tell, save your breath. If it’s to make Helen out to be a murderess, a villain, in my eyes, you won’t succeed. If anyone is guilty of a crime there, it’s you. Pushing a child into a loaded gun. What did you think would happen?”

“Certainly not what did.”

“You expect me to believe that?”

Cameron smiled again. “Evie, amusing as our banter always is, we need to cut to the chase. These are the facts – Helen is alive, whereabouts unknown. Ross is alive and staying in a house a few streets from here. Do you think Helen might be interested in knowing that?”

“You’re despicable, Cameron. I don’t know why you’d say a thing like that, but whatever game you’re playing I refuse to be a part of it.” Evie stood up to leave him there mired in his rank subterfuge, but he tugged her arm sharply so that she sat heavily again, the planks of the bench jolting her bones.

“Sit down, woman,” he hissed. “You will hear me out, and then you will do what I want you to, if you want your beloved friends to stay safe.”

“What do you want, Cameron? Just get on with it and say.”

“Tell Helen she can have Ross.”

“He’s really alive? How can that be?”

“The bullet didn’t kill him. Richard came back with me to the house that night. Good man, our Richard. Dependable. He was listening outside the room, overheard everything. He hid in the shadows until I’d dragged Helen away, then slipped into the bedroom. He saw the boy twitch so felt for a pulse and found one. Faint, but there. So he took him. When I went back the body was gone, but I saw no need to mention that to Helen. I set fire to the room as a precaution.”

“But
you
did that! You felt for a pulse. You said he was dead.”

“Oh, all but. And the important thing was to get out of there. Dragging a dying child with us was only going to slow things down.”

Evie stood, furious. “You cold-hearted—”

“Spare me your condemnation, Evie. I really don’t care. And do sit down if you want to hear the rest of this.” He waited until she did as she was told. “That’s better. So. Against all the odds, Ross survived. For all that puniness, turns out he was a tough little beggar after all. But sadly, little more than an idiot now, so no use to me. And certainly no use to the company so better if he doesn’t surface and muddy the waters. Best he ‘dies’ alongside dear Helen and little Izzie.”

Evie was incredulous. Ross alive.

“But I’m a fair man.” Cameron was still speaking, enjoying his moment. “I’m prepared to strike a deal. I don’t need to know where Helen is and I don’t want to see her again. She stays hidden and she gets her boy back. And I’ll arrange funds to make sure they don’t starve and have whatever attention the boy needs. I keep David. He’s mine, after all. If she ever decides to surface, I have a witness to the shooting who will say she shot the boy in cold blood and turned the gun on me. And Richard assures me his testimony and the gun he recovered from the scene, along with one or two other items he could rustle up if needed, mean we have enough evidence to ensure she will be convicted.”

“What items?”

“Does it matter? I’m sure he’ll have had the foresight to have ‘saved’ whatever our lawyers might find they need.”

Evie nodded. They would fabricate whatever they needed and with Chakanaya’s connections there was every chance their bogus evidence would be accepted.

“So that’s the deal? She gets Ross and stays out of jail; you get David and, through him, the Buchanan money.”

“Seems fair to me. And what man would want to see his beloved wife locked up in jail for the rest of her life anyway? I’m only doing what any loving husband would do: protecting my wife and her child.”

“You make me sick, Cameron, you really do. How do I know you’re not lying?”

“Why would I?”

“I really don’t know, but you usually do.” Evie was all business, determined not to let her confusion and horror overwhelm her. “I’ll need to see Ross, of course.”

“Of course, I imagined you would. My car’s just outside.”

Evie started to rise, but he caught her arm again, pulled her round to look at him.

“One other thing. If Izzie survived, I want her, too. As insurance.” He was watching her closely, but Evie was ready for him this time.

“Of course you do. Well, sorry to disappoint you, Cameron, but that much at least is true. She died, despite everything Helen did to try to save her. She was drowned along with all those other poor souls when the mudslide hit. She slipped from Helen’s grasp.”

Cameron raised an eyebrow. “Did she, now.”

Evie found it impossible to tell if he believed her or not, but she kept her gaze steady, fought to stay calm.

“You might as well have drowned her yourself, Cameron. Her blood is on your hands, so if you regret it now then you’ve only yourself to blame. But it’s the living we should concern ourselves with. Ross. Take me to him. Prove what you’ve told me is true.”

* * *

Richard Chakanaya was waiting by Cameron’s car, a slow smile spreading across his features as he saw Evie coming towards him.

“Mrs Campbell. A pleasure as always.”

She wanted to slap the obsequious man, but she nodded her head stiffly and got into the back of the car, staring straight ahead as the chauffeur closed her door. Cameron slid in the other side and Chakanaya got into the front.

As the car set off, in her mind she ran through everything Cameron had said. It wasn’t possible, was it? The only way to be sure was to see with her own eyes. She tried to think of ways that Cameron might try to fool her, pass off another child as Ross, trick her into believing what felt like the unbelievable. And she found herself wishing she’d stopped to tell someone where she was going, or at least who with, before she left.

But as soon as she walked into the tiny room and Ross turned his large brown eyes up to look at her from under a grubby bandage covering his head, she knew. It was him. No doubts, no subterfuge. Incredibly and against all probability, Ross was alive.

“Ross! Ross darling!” She tried to pull him into her arms, but he ducked and stumbled over to an old woman Evie hadn’t seen when she came in. He buried his head against her apron, whimpering.

“I have to warn you, Evie dear. He’s not ‘whole’.” Cameron stepped forward, tipped Ross’s chin up so he was looking straight into his eyes. Evie saw the boy tense. “He won’t remember you, Evie. Or Helen. In fact, I’m not really sure if he remembers anything at all.” Ross’s eyes flickered over to Evie and then he wriggled away from Cameron’s hold and buried his face again in the apron of the old woman.

“Ross. Ross, it’s me, Auntie Evie.” She tried to take his hand.

“Ross, look at me.” Cameron’s voice was bored. The old woman turned Ross to look at Cameron, the little head tilted to one side, his thumb plugged into his mouth like a comforter. “This is Auntie Evie. You remember her, don’t you?”

But the boy’s face crumpled as if he were about to cry. Then a shout in the street made him scream and he turned to the old woman again, burying his head and sobbing. She crooned and soothed him, as his small shoulders heaved. Evie was horrified. He didn’t know her. Would he know Helen? Evie fought back tears. This was unbearable.