The Whiskerly Sisters (28 page)

She remembered how happy she had been here many moons ago in the early years when Malcolm had been young and relatively carefree; when she could immerse herself in caring for her children, all of whom had long since flown the coop and now had lives and families of their own. She loved them all dearly and saw them regularly. With the coming of the internet, she had learned to communicate with them over the ether. It wasn’t quite the same as seeing them in person, but with webcam, Skype and all the other modern applications available, it was possible to keep in touch with anyone anywhere in real time.

The house had become too big for the two of them – too quiet, too neat, and too lifeless. She would have preferred to have moved into a smaller house – something cosy where she could relax and be herself, but she knew that Malcolm would never move. He had never been able to abide change. For herself, she didn’t need much in the way of material things. They had never been important to her. Her craving had always been for personal freedom and fulfilment and, whilst she could appreciate that there would be those who would consider her selfish and cruel, she truly believed that she had taken into consideration the welfare of both of them whilst coming to the difficult decision about their future.

It had been great fun getting back at the infuriating Malcolm, growing and learning in the process, but the taste of revenge was now bitter in her mouth. The joke had worn itself as thin as a bubble and it now seemed like it was on her. She was ready now to burst that bubble and let it evaporate away into frothy nothingness because that’s how her life felt right now – as empty as a soap bubble.

But not for much longer!

She checked her watch. Slowly she rose from the chair and, more out of habit than a desire for orderliness, she pushed it back to its proper place under the kitchen table. She took her cup to the sink, rinsed it and popped it into the dishwasher. She fitted a tablet into its dispenser and switched on the machine.

She took another good, long look around the room. Everything was where it should be. Satisfied, she wandered through into the hall and, from there, into the lounge, touching and stroking well-remembered, well-loved memorabilia – the little porcelain clock that her children had bought them for a significant wedding anniversary, the crystal vase inlaid with playful otters that she had bought on a trip to Lake Como, the silver photograph frame on the mantelpiece, reminiscent of a happy family trip to London. How young they had all looked; how dated their clothes now seemed. She moved slowly through the room and finally found herself looking out of the French windows at the neat shrubberies and well-manicured lawn in front of her.

The house was pristine. She had done the laundry and had tidied it away, hospital style in the airing cupboard, giving Malcolm no reason to fret. She had put fresh sheets on the bed, stocked the larder and filled the freezer. She had placed a casserole in the oven. She could do no more.

Coming out of her reverie, she realised there was actually one more thing she needed to do. Purposefully, she walked out of the magazine-style neatness of her lounge and back into the kitchen. She reached into her handbag and took out a small cream and gold business card. She turned it over in her hand, smiling at the memories it brought back to her. What a glorious year it had been. What fun she had had. Carefully, she placed the little card on the kitchen table next to Malcolm’s glasses where he would be sure to find it.

At a toot of the horn from outside, Bex gathered the little collection of bags she had earlier stored under the hall table. Standing before the mirror, she shook her hair free of its combs and let it hang loose around her neck the way he liked it. She picked up her jacket and left through the front door. She turned and swiftly locked the door on her previous life. She popped the little key through the letter box. She wouldn’t need it again.

With a light step and a happy heart, she walked up the path for the very last time without a backward glance and climbed into the camper van parked in the lay-by opposite the house, smiling up at the man in the driver’s seat as she did so.

It was time to explore new horizons, to spread her wings and to experience a different sunrise. She gently tapped the pocket of her jacket to check that her passport really was there, threw her hands in the air and whooped with joy. It was time to go travelling.

David watched her indulgently then leaned forward to kiss her. Putting the van into gear, he reached for her hand, then pulled away from the kerb.

The next adventure was about to begin.

A
lex couldn’t wait and had consequently arrived early at the restaurant. Dressed well for the occasion, he passed the time reflecting on how his luck had changed for the better over the past weeks. He had been overwhelmed by the warmth of the welcome he had received from Fresna. He hadn’t expected that. He had known she was a soft touch, but he had thought she might put up some resistance. On the contrary, she seemed delighted to have him back in her life. She had grown quieter over the years; no longer the excited, chattering teenager he had once known. Still, he appreciated that in a woman and found the silences between them quite restful. He checked his watch and smiled. Anytime soon he would be meeting his daughter for the first time and who knew what improvements that would bring to his life.

He was startled out of his daydreaming by the discordant ringing of a mobile. He looked up and saw a dishevelled blonde in the booth opposite rummaging about in her bag. He shook his head in disbelief at the way young people dressed these days. She was all in black, wearing workman’s boots over laddered tights and had decorated herself with an abundance of silver bangles and belts. He could just about glimpse white skin beneath an enormous pair of sunglasses. He felt shocked. Sunglasses in a restaurant for pity’s sake! Whatever next?

Finally, ‘blondie’ found her cell phone and began to listen. Whatever it was, Alex felt sure it was bad news. He could tell from the sudden downturn of her black-lipsticked mouth. Suddenly she stood up, still listening, told whoever it was on the other end that she was coming and went to put her phone away. In her hurry to be gone, she mistimed the manoeuvre and knocked her handbag across the table, spilling its contents in a wide arc across the bistro floor; a small collection of feminine essentials rolling and skimming along the ceramic tiles and coming to rest finally under a table here or a chair there. The woman cursed under her breath and looked impatiently at her scattered belongings. She clearly did not have time for this. She was impatient to leave.

Gallantly, Alex stood up and, forcing his arthritic knees to bend, stooped down and began to retrieve some of the forlorn girl’s possessions. He found her purse under his chair, a lipstick by the door and a packet of tissues in the space between the booths. He collected all he could find and returned them to their owner who, by this time, had begun to scoop up the things closest to her. Hurriedly she took the proffered goods, grabbed her coat and ran out of the door, ignoring his efforts. The drama over, Alex returned to his chair and sat down, wondering what the world was coming to. The young hussy hadn’t seemed the slightest bit grateful. Turning his thoughts to the future, he again checked his watch. A pair of hands reached over his shoulders and drew him into a brief hug. Blondie was back and murmuring her thanks in his ear. She left as quickly as she came; a nameless, faceless woman, one of many seen in any town on any day of the week. Alex thought no more about her and again began to reflect on his recent good luck.

Things had certainly changed for the better since he had caught up with Fresna. Look at the way he was dressed for a start. Only a couple of weeks previously, he had begun receiving a series of unexpected parcels through the post. Opening them, he was stunned to find a variety of garments – suit, shirt, tie, shoes, even underwear – all good quality if the receipts were anything to go by. How thoughtful Fresna had been. She had wanted him to look his best when he met his daughter. Alex sighed. She was still an incredibly attractive woman for her age. What a pity she had no appetite for the occasional romp on the old two-backed beast! He would have enjoyed climbing into bed with her again. Still, he was a lucky man to even be here and perhaps in time, she would change her mind.

Alex sat back in his chair eager for the evening to begin and for all that was to come.

Verity threw off her sunglasses and smiled brilliantly at Samantha as she climbed into the back of Fresna’s waiting car. It had all gone like clockwork. She had successfully planted Izza’s credit card in the jacket pocket of the unsuspecting Alex when she had briefly returned to the restaurant to thank him. Izza would wait until tomorrow before reporting its loss and cancelling the card. She would then telephone the restaurant to see if anyone remembered the handbag incident and if they had any details on the elderly gentleman sitting in booth number sixteen, who had so graciously risen to help her gather her belongings. Fortunately, the restaurant would be able to oblige since Verity had made the booking in Alex’s name, giving his details. In the meantime, Izza would buy a few masculine items over the net and arrange for them to be sent to his address.

After reporting the incident to the Police, Izza would leave it to Tiffany to pick up the trail. Interestingly, her investigation would raise some doubts about the honesty of the so-called hero in the bistro, which would ultimately cause her to turn up on his doorstep with a few questions. Being thorough, she would be sure to check Alex’s pockets where the card would hopefully still reside. Regardless of the outcome and working on a hunch, Tiff would decide to conduct a more thorough search of the flat and return with a search warrant. The search would reveal a second stolen credit card, some jewellery and a quantity of cash tucked away in a small shoe box at the back of his wardrobe. A little more digging would reveal the owner of that property to be none other than Fresna herself. She had reported the card missing some time ago and would feign surprise when shown her missing jewellery. She would pretend she had no idea it had been stolen, but reveal that the suspect was an old acquaintance from way back when who had suddenly turned up on her doorstep. She would admit that he had visited her home several times over the past few months and pretend to be outraged by his thievery.

In reality, it had not been difficult for Verity to plant Fresna’s property in Alex’s wardrobe because Celia had come up with the bright idea of lifting his front door key from his pocket whilst he was having one of his regular home-cooked meals with Fresna. All Fresna had had to do was pass it out of the toilet window into the hands of the waiting Jax. It had been a piece of cake for Jax to run round to the local supermarket and get a replica cut on the spot. The original was back in its usual place in less than thirty minutes – stolen right under its owner’s unsuspecting nose.

No one could predict how Alex would feel when questioned about his alleged use of Fresna’s card. He would obviously protest his innocence, but the facts would show that the card had recently been used to buy men’s clothing at a nearby internet café and, whilst the owner of the café could not be certain of the face, his records would reveal Alex as having booked the sessions.

Working in the theatre, Sam had made short work of ageing Sly into the seedy, old man the café owner agreed he had seen in his shop several times, shopping on the internet. Alex might well protest his innocence and rant against the injustice on the system, but it would be in vain since Tiffany’s thoroughness had turned up some earlier information on the suspect involving a possible case of fraud against his previous employers, which had eventually been dealt with by the Company themselves but which had nevertheless been recorded by a diligent clerk.

Fresna waited for her satnav to warm up and then tapped in the required postcode. While she waited for the little machine to plan a route, she turned round and grinned at the two women cuddled up together in the back, sharing a bar of chocolate. Humming a little tune of contentment to herself, she drove sedately down the busy street, passing the restaurant in which the expectant Alex was sitting. The three women debated how long he would wait before he realised no one was coming. They also wondered what he would make of the little cream calling card, inscribed in gold with a cryptic message, that Verity had left in his coat pocket as he’d chivalrously sprung from his seat to chase after the scattered contents of her handbag. Since he was down on the floor with his back towards her, she had had plenty of time to plant it.

Whilst they could not be certain of the outcome of any police investigation, the three car passengers were confident in the knowledge that Alex would not be bothering them again and that, for them at least, justice had been done.

It would be several hours before they reached their destination in the very north of the country – Aberdeen, home of Alex’s second son Ben where both brothers would be waiting for them, completely ignorant of what had just taken place.