Riding the Storm (15 page)

‘I don’t know,’ Margie said. ‘He’s not moving but I don’t want to touch him.’ She shuddered.

‘We should call an ambulance.’

‘Yeah,’ Margie said. ‘You’ve gone awfully white, Val. Are you sure you’re OK?’

‘That’s a stupid question.’

‘Sorry.’

‘No. It’s not your fault, Margie, it’s me.’ Val closed her eyes briefly. ‘I think I’m in shock. You should have heard the terrible things he said—’

‘I did. Most of it, anyway. I didn’t mean to but he was shouting so loud, I couldn’t avoid it. I’ve always felt sorry for you – married to him. He wasn’t a nice man.’

‘You’re speaking as if he’s already dead.’

‘One can hope.’ Margie smiled grimly, holding up her hand for silence. She was dialling triple 0.

‘Yeah, it’s the boss,’ she said after giving the details. ‘Seems to be unconscious – probably dead.’ She listened for a moment more before hanging up. ‘Ambulance is on its way,’ she said.

On legs that were shaking so much she could hardly control them, Val came downstairs to look at her husband. He didn’t appear to be breathing and she knew she should attempt some form of resuscitation, but she couldn’t bring herself to do so after that confession and all the horrible things he’d said.
Wasn’t it better to let fate decide?

‘Should we get him a pillow or something?’ Margie said, breaking into her thoughts. ‘I don’t know anything about first aid.’

‘I’ve heard that moving a person can do more harm than good. Better wait for the experts. But you might fetch a blanket to keep him warm.’

‘OK,’ Margie said, oddly unmoved by the tragedy. ‘Then I could make us some tea while we’re waiting. I’m sure you can do with it.’

Hot, sweet tea was made and they sipped it in silence because there was really nothing to say. From time to time they took a peek at Robert, who still hadn’t moved.

It was a good twenty minutes before the paramedics arrived.

‘So sorry.’ The senior man hurried in, followed by his assistant. ‘But there’s never enough of us to go round. Too many urgent calls at the same time.’ He knelt to make a quick examination of Robert before replacing the blanket, covering his face this time.

‘Nothing we could have done for this one, anyway. Neck’s broken an’ I think his back may be, too. Must’ve been one hell of a fall,’ he said, glancing at the stairs. ‘We better inform the cops.’ Ryan and Chrissie arrived just as the ambulance was leaving. There were several police cars in the driveway and the house was a blaze of lights.

‘Oh, God, what is it?’ Chrissie said. ‘I hope nothing’s happened to Mum.’

Her relief was so obvious when she heard it was Robert who was on his way to the morgue and not Val, that the police
exchanged significant glances. Unfortunately, the officer in charge was Inspector Ian Jackson who had been at school with Robert and had known him for some years. From the way he was looking at Ryan through narrowed eyes, Chrissie was grateful that her cousin had a cast-iron alibi and couldn’t be suspected of having anything to do with her father’s demise.

All the same, the inspector’s investigation was thorough and he grilled Margie for a long time concerning Val and her attitude towards her husband. Were they a loving couple or did she hear them quarrelling? Was Val always patient with her invalid husband? It was clear that he wanted Margie to tell him the marriage was less than perfect. Margie shrugged, professing ignorance. ‘I just work here,’ she said, dismissing his theories. ‘Not my place to wonder if they’re happy or not.’

His sergeant meanwhile was measuring various distances from the lift to the stairs and from Robert’s office. Val had no idea what they were expecting to find. It didn’t help that Inspector Jackson had heard of the recent kidnapping, which only seemed to deepen his suspicions. In the end, it was some time before he could be satisfied that neither Val nor Margie had contributed to Robert’s death. He left, promising to see them all at the coroner’s inquest, and warning them all not to leave this present address until that was over.

A
T THE CORONER’S
inquest on Robert Lanigan’s death, both Val and Margie had given their accounts of what happened and had gone to the back of the room to sit with Ryan and Chrissie. Everything seemed to be going smoothly enough until Inspector Jackson took the stand.

‘The deceased was lying on the floor in the hall at the foot of the stairs with his broken wheelchair beside him,’ he said, reading from his notes in a monotone. ‘I knew Mr Lanigan personally and it seems odd that such an accident could happen to a man familiar with the dangers of his upstairs environment. But we have no reason to suppose it was anything other than an unfortunate accident. Mr Lanigan had been confined to a wheelchair since the vehicle he was driving collided with a truck in New South Wales but, in spite of his condition, he didn’t seem unduly depressed. His wife mentioned that he was in reasonable spirits as he expected eventually to regain the use of his legs. She hadn’t told him his doctors considered this unlikely. We have no reason to think he committed suicide by deliberately backing his chair to the stairwell or,’ he paused to look at Val, ‘any solid evidence to suppose that anyone pushed him.’

‘Thank you, Inspector.’ The coroner glanced at his watch. It was well after midday and his stomach was growling, reminding him that he needed lunch.

‘However,’ the inspector continued, raising his voice and earning himself a sigh from the coroner. ‘In the course of my investigation I saw little evidence that Mr Lanigan was going to be mourned or missed. Throughout all our conversations, Mrs Lanigan and her daughter remained dry-eyed. So I have to say this led me to wonder—’

‘We are not paid to wonder, Inspector.’ The coroner fixed him with a stern look. ‘We are here to deal with only the facts. And if you have no more facts to lay before us…?’

‘I don’t have any more facts. No. It’s just a feeling I have—’ The inspector had clearly hoped for a more sympathetic audience.

‘In the face of no further solid evidence, I must return a verdict of accidental death.’ And scarcely waiting for the formalities to be completed, the coroner banged his gavel and hurried from the room in search of lunch.

‘We’re lucky the old boy was starving, Mum.’ Chrissie watched him leave, hastening down the steps at the front of the courthouse. ‘I think Inspector Jackson was hoping to pin something on you.’

‘I’m just tired of the whole sorry business, Chrissie.’ Val sighed. ‘As I said at the inquest, I tried to catch the chair but, if I had, I wouldn’t be here to tell the tale. He was a heavy man and I would have been dragged down the stairs with him. But at least the inquest is over. Now we can arrange the funeral and get on with our lives.’

‘You do realize that Hunter’s Moon and the stables belong
to you, Mum. Now you can do whatever you like and you don’t have to answer to anyone.’ She glanced at her telephone and saw there was a message from Sir Henry Wheeler, asking her to call him. ‘I wonder what’s up?’ she said with an anxious glance at Ryan. ‘I hope nothing’s wrong.’

‘Well, call him,’ Val said, ‘and find out.’

‘I have good news, Chrissie,’ the old man said when she contacted him. ‘Walker and Associates, your ex-employers, have pushed too many people too far. There’s to be a class action against them for several wrongful dismissals and I’m wondering whether you’d care to join them to help build a stronger case?’

‘Oh, Uncle Henry, I don’t think so,’ she said. ‘I want nothing more to do with those people, let alone work for them again.’

‘No, my darling, you don’t understand. This isn’t about getting your old job back – it’s about compensation and retrieving your good name.’

‘I don’t care about the compensation.’

‘Then you should. Some of these young people don’t have wealthy families to fall back on. We feel certain the Walkers will want to avoid the publicity and settle out of court. So how do you feel about it now?’

‘Thank you, Uncle Henry. I was being selfish. Of course I’ll join in. I’d very much like to get rid of this black mark against me.’

‘I only wish you’d mentioned it to me before. We could have started something sooner. These people have been taking advantage of promising young graduates for too long.’

‘I didn’t think about it. I thought it was only me.’

‘That’s what everyone thought – until some of them started
comparing notes. I’ll keep you posted, Chrissie.’

Robert’s funeral was surprisingly well-attended. Although he wasn’t a popular figure at the track, arrogant and irascible towards those he considered his rivals and far from generous towards reporters, maybe most people were there to make sure he was really dead. Val and Chrissie were formally dressed in black and Sir Henry was with them, lending respectability and old-world charm.

The service was conducted in a chapel attached to the crematorium, the venue hastily changed to a larger room as more people than expected kept arriving to pay their respects. The minister who conducted the service had no personal knowledge of Robert and could offer little more than the standard platitudes. The coffin, after the conventional display of white lilies had been removed, disappeared into the inferno that could be heard roaring behind the curtains in record time. Shortly afterwards, Val and Chrissie found themselves outside, receiving condolences and examining a multitude of floral tributes from people they scarcely knew.

Most people don’t attend weddings unless they’re invited but that wasn’t the case with this funeral as Val quickly found out. A lot more people than she was expecting descended on her house like a swarm of locusts, expecting to be fed. Luckily, Margie’s sister was in catering and was persuaded to come to the rescue with a van full of sandwiches and snacks. Robert’s precious hoard of single-malt whisky was raided to provide bracing drinks for everyone and, after a while, people forgot that it was a funeral feast and turned it into a party. All that was missing was music and dancing. It was well into the
evening before everyone left and went home. Margie was last to leave, telling Val and Chrissie to leave the room as it was and get some rest; she would be back to clear up first thing in the morning.

‘The worst is over now, Mum,’ Chrissie said, hugging her mother, who seemed slighter than usual, these days. ‘But you look exhausted. You need to sleep.’

Val headed for the stairs, too tired even to reply.

‘I’ll go and check on Tommy before I turn in,’ Ryan said. ‘I haven’t seen him all day.’

‘I’ll come with you,’ Chrissie said, catching his hand and linking her fingers with his.

Tommy was pleased to see Ryan as always, no matter what time of the day or night it might be, although he regarded Chrissie with suspicion and stamped his foot when Ryan put a protective arm around her.

‘You don’t have to be jealous, old chap,’ Ryan said, rubbing the colt’s nose. ‘We’ll have you covering all the mares you can handle, when the time comes.’

Chrissie broke free, laughing. ‘I’m not sure I like being called a mare to be handled,’ she said.

‘Ssh.’ Ryan knew she was teasing. ‘I have to put it in terms that Tommy will understand.’

They wandered through the stables and Chrissie was surprised to see so many unusually clean and empty stalls with tack hanging unused on the walls.

‘I knew Dad had lost a few horses,’ she said. ‘But nobody told me it was as bad as this.’

‘Look on the bright side,’ Ryan said. ‘Your father wasn’t the easiest man to get along with—’

‘You can say that again,’ Chrissie said with a wry smile.

‘And when Tommy attracts new owners to the stables – as he will – they’ll be people who’ve chosen us because they have faith in your mother – and ourselves.’ He pulled her into his arms and he rested his chin on her head. ‘What is that? You smell wonderful.’

‘Stick to the point.’

‘Chrissie, there’s something I haven’t told you. Very soon I must go back up north.’

She drew back and looked up into his face, wide-eyed. ‘No, Ryan. Why?’

‘Don’t look so stricken. It won’t be for long. Just long enough to make a deal with Glen Harrison about the old farm.’

‘You’ve decided to sell it, then?’

‘I could probably manage it long distance without going up there at all, but Glen’s a businessman first and he might be tempted to cheat me. He’ll offer me a far better price if I’m there on the spot twisting his arm.’

‘I could go with you. I’ve never been up north.’

‘Another time. You need to be here, helping your uncle with the case against the Walkers. And it won’t be for long – I’ll get my dad’s old solicitors to handle it soon as we’ve agreed on a price.’

She reached up to place her arms around his neck and raised her face to be kissed. Willingly, he obliged.

‘You’ll sleep in my room tonight, Ryan,’ she whispered.

‘Whoa.’ He opened his eyes to look at her. ‘What about your…?’

‘Mum will sleep forever. She’s exhausted. I’ll go in first and you come up in about half an hour.’

He caught her in yet another embrace before she could leave. ‘Oh, Chrissie, I love you so much.’

‘I know. And I love you too,’ she said with an impish smile.

Inside the house, Chrissie listened at her mother’s door, rewarded by the sound of gentle snoring. She wasn’t at all sure her mother would understand or approve of the relationship she was conducting with her cousin but right now she didn’t care. She wanted Ryan in a way that she’d never wanted anyone in her whole life and she was prepared to make herself the centre of his. And she knew, without a doubt, that he felt the same. He was straightforward and uncomplicated, carrying no baggage from previous affairs. On reaching her bedroom, she leaned back against the door and closed her eyes, overcome by a wave of desire, imagining Ryan’s strong, young body hard against her own. She hoped he wouldn’t be long.

He wasn’t. She had time only to have a quick shower, anoint herself with her favourite Jo Malone body crème, put on her newest silk nightgown and turn down all the lights before he was there. He came in stealthily, without knocking, and just as she had done, leaned back for a moment against the door.

‘Oh,’ he whispered. ‘It smells lovely in here. Is it you or the room?’

‘Come here,’ she said, sensing his diffidence as she took him by the hand and led him to the bed. She pushed him down onto it and straddled him, unembarrassed by her own forwardness.

‘Chrissie,’ he said, suddenly anxious. ‘I don’t want to disappoint you but I don’t – that is, I haven’t—’

‘Been with a girl before.’ She smiled down at him. ‘Don’t worry. I’m not all that experienced myself. We’ll just do what seems right and let nature take its course.’

Nature did. Clumsy and over-anxious at first, they were able to make love many times, becoming attuned to each other’s needs and marvelling at the pleasure they could give and receive. Caught up in the excitement of new love, soon the rest of the world ceased to exist for them and they lost all sense of time. At last, sated and locked in each other’s arms, they fell into a dreamless and exhausted sleep. They heard nothing until there was a soft knocking at the door in the morning, bringing them instantly awake as if a bucket of cold water had been thrown over them.

Ryan dived under the covers and Chrissie covered his head with her spare pillow, pushing the bedclothes around him in the hope that her mother wouldn’t see anything more than a dishevelled bed.

‘Good morning.’ Val almost sang the words. She had recovered from the ordeal of attending Robert’s funeral and seemed like her old self again. She placed a tray with two cups of coffee and two croissants with jam and butter on the table beside the bed. ‘It’s all right, Ryan, I know you’re in there. Breakfast is served and you can come out now.’

Sheepishly, Ryan sat up, revealing a tousled head.

‘Are you all right with this, Mum?’ Chrissie said. ‘You’re not upset?’

‘Bit late to worry about that now, isn’t it?’ Val sat down on the bed. ‘I’m a child of the swinging sixties, remember – not that easy to shock. I went to sleep much too early and found myself wide awake in the early hours. So I went down to
the stables to look at the records and think about starting a campaign to bring us new owners. When Ryan didn’t turn up to look after Tommy as usual, I asked Jim to feed the colt and came back to the house to rouse him, only to find an empty bed. And, as you two have been so close lately, it was a small step to conclude that he must be in yours.’

‘You don’t have to worry, Mum.’ Chrissie sighed. ‘It’s only a one-night stand – we know it can’t happen again. We are in love, yes.’ She took Ryan’s hand and held it close as if to give herself strength to say it. ‘But we both know nothing can come of it because we’re too closely related.’

‘But that’s what I’m here to tell you, my darling. You’re not.’

She had their full attention then; they were both instantly wide awake.

‘So what are you saying?’ Chrissie whispered. ‘That the conniving old bastard you married wasn’t really my father?’

‘Oh, come on, that’s a bit strong, even for you,’ Val smiled. ‘I hope you’re not worried about speaking ill of the dead?’

‘Not in his case. A man who can employ a commando to do all his dirty work because he can’t find the courage to do it himself.’

‘I get the point. Don’t say any more.’ Val placed a hand on her shoulder to calm her. ‘Sorry to raise your hopes only to dash them but Rob Lanigan really was your father. The difference comes from Ryan’s side of the family.’

Ryan spoke for the first time. ‘Oh no, Val, you have to be wrong about that. My mother would never have been unfaithful. She never loved anyone but Peter, my father.’

‘I know. They were the romance of the century. But nobody ever told you – or Peter for that matter – that he himself was
adopted as a baby.’

‘I don’t think so. That would have come out before now. Anyway, how can you be so sure?’

‘Because I heard it from Claire Lanigan herself, the boys’ mother. It’s a heartbreaking story. She felt as though her whole life was blighted because her sons couldn’t be friends.’ She paused to pass each of them a cup of coffee and a croissant. ‘Eat your breakfast while it’s warm and I’ll tell you what I know. Claire told me only because I pressed her. As I was marrying Robert, I wanted to know everything about him, including the cause of his animosity towards his younger brother that seemed to be there even before he married Joanne.