Old Sins (139 page)

‘That’s right, Father. It all sounds the most ridiculous nonsense, I know, but it’s true. Like all the best facts it’s stranger than fiction. Only he wasn’t going under another name in England. His name there was his real name. He was called Julian Morell. That was the real person. Hugo Dashwood was a pseudonym. God knows why he used it. But he did.’

‘So Lady Morell, she is married to Mr Dashwood? Have I got this right now?’

‘Yes, I suppose so. Only she is not married to him any more. He’s died.’

‘Died? Yes, of course, because Lady Morell had recently been widowed. That’s why she was looking for you, of course, because of the will.’

‘That’s right, Father.’

The old man turned to Roz. ‘I am sorry, my child. Sorry you have lost your father. Sorry to have been so tactless. You must forgive me. All that business with the other name, very upsetting, very difficult for you.’

‘Of course. Anyway, it was a while ago, I’m feeling much better now.’

‘Father Kennedy,’ said Miles, ‘the whole thing is still very mysterious. You might be able to help. Have you any idea, any idea at all, why Hugo Dashwood – that is Julian Morell – should have left me a lot of money? A share in his company?’

Father Kennedy looked at them both. His mind was racing, he felt sick, trapped. He must keep calm. He must remember that he had always told himself that Lee might have been mistaken, that the doctors might have been mistaken, that Dean and not Hugo Dashwood, or this Julian Morell, had been Miles’ father.

He closed his eyes briefly, calling on the Almighty for aid; then he opened them again and smiled serenely at Miles.

‘Well now, Miles, he was very very fond of you. You know that. And very generous to you. Putting you through college and everything. And when your parents died, he felt he had to take care of you, keep an eye on you. Your mother asked him to, and he promised. He took that promise very seriously. And kept it. And he was very proud of you, Miles. I think it is entirely to be expected that he should remember you in his will.’

‘I suppose so, Father. But it isn’t just remembering. It’s a lot, an awful lot of money.’

‘Then I can only say I hope you will use it wisely, Miles. Money can be a terrible thing, if it is wrongly used.’

‘I’ll try, Father. I’ll take a leaf out of Phaedria’s book maybe, and give some to you for a start.’

‘That would be extremely welcome, extremely. My goodness, the way we are going, this will shortly be the richest organization in the United States of America.’

‘Excellent. In good hands, that’s for sure. But also, Father, can you think why he left me the money in such a roundabout way? Why not be more direct about it?’

‘Miles, when you have lived as long as I have, and seen as many things happen, you will not be surprised or even puzzled by anything at all. People do many strange things for many strange reasons, which are not for others to question and which seem perfectly good and sound to them at the time.’

‘I suppose so,’ said Miles. ‘Well anyway, it doesn’t really matter too much. And something very good has come out of it.’

‘And what might that be?’

‘Well,’ said Miles, reaching out, taking Roz’s hand, ‘Roz and I have found one another.’

A terrible fear had invaded the old man’s heart. He sought desperately to make Miles dispel it.

‘Yes, it is always a wonderful thing, to find a new friend.’

‘Well, yeah, I guess that’s so, but Roz and I are more than friends, Father. We’re – well, maybe I shouldn’t be telling you this, Father, in case you tell me I’m in mortal sin or something, I know in the eyes of the church it is a sin, but, we’re in love and we’ve been living together, and – well, Roz doesn’t exactly know this, yet, but I’m planning on marrying her as soon as ever I can.’

When Phaedria got into the office next morning, tired and inexplicably sick at heart, Sarah Brownsmith was looking worried.

‘I’m glad you’re here, Lady Morell. Someone’s been calling you from California. A man. He sounded quite old. With an Irish accent.’

‘Father Kennedy,’ said Phaedria, ‘I wonder what he wants.’

‘He wants you to phone him. He sounded rather upset.’

‘Oh, dear. He’s such a nice, sweet old man. He was so kind to me. I wonder what’s happened.

‘Here’s his number. It must be – let’s see, goodness, midnight there. It must be urgent.’

‘Yes,’ said Phaedria. ‘Yes, it must.’

She phoned the number. It was the refuge.

‘Father Kennedy? This is Phaedria Morell. Father, is something wrong?’

‘It is, my child, it’s terribly wrong. Or at least it might be.’

‘Whatever is it? Can I help? Please tell me.’

‘It’s very difficult, I can only tell you a little. I would be breaking every kind of confidence to tell you more. But you are a sensitive and a clever girl, and perhaps you will know what to do.’

‘Father, you have to tell me what the matter is. Please. And I’ll try to help.’

‘Very well. Today, your friend Miles came to see me.’

‘Miles?’

‘Miles. And he had another young lady with him.’

Fear struck out at Phaedria. She sat up rigidly on her chair, trying to keep calm.

‘Another young lady?’

‘Yes. Her name was Roz. You know her, don’t you?

‘I do. Yes.’

‘She is the daughter of your husband, and of my friend, Miles’ friend, Hugo Dashwood. As I still have to think of him. I’m sorry.’

‘That’s all right, Father. Go on please.’

‘Well, Miles was telling me about the legacy and so on. It was very good of your husband, very good indeed, to leave him that money. But –’

‘Yes, Father, but what? You’re not making any sense.’

‘Well, Miles told me, and God forgive me I didn’t know what to say to him, so I said nothing, nothing at all, that he and Roz were in love. And that they were going to get married.’

‘Married! Roz and Miles? Oh, Father, no, that can’t be true.’

‘He told me himself, sitting here on the grass, holding her hand. And they are a nice, a very nice young couple. But, Lady Morell, the marriage cannot be. It must not be. Now you must not ask me why. I am not in a position to tell you, and besides that, I may be mistaken in my thinking. But for Miles’ sake and for Roz’s you have to stop them marrying. Cohabiting even. I suspect, and God forgive me if I am wrong, they are, they could be, they could well be, in mortal sin.’

‘Father, I can’t stop them marrying. They are grown people. I had no idea there was any question of it, none of us did, but if they want to marry, then they will. Nobody, least of all I, can stop them.’

‘They must be stopped,’ he said, ‘they must.’

He sounded so distressed that Phaedria felt frightened.

‘All right,’ she said, largely to soothe him. ‘All right, I will stop them. Somehow. I promise. Please don’t worry, Father, I will talk to people here, to the family, and we will stop them.’

‘Oh,’ he said, and she could hear him relaxing, calming across the wires. ‘Thank God. I knew you would know what to do. God bless you. I will pray for you. And for them. The poor poor things. So much in love.’

‘Thank you, Father,’ said Phaedria, reflecting even in her panic that it was going to take quite a bit of intervention on the part of the Almighty to enable her to stop Roz marrying Miles if that was indeed what she had decided to do. ‘Now do calm yourself. Everything will be perfectly all right, I’m sure. I will see to it. Goodness, it must be late there now. You must go to bed and sleep and just not worry any more.’

‘I will indeed, Lady Morell. Thank you. Good night to you now. And please call me if you need me.’

‘Good night, Father,’ said Phaedria, wishing fervently it was midnight in London as well as Los Angeles and that she could take an extremely strong sleeping pill and remain unconscious for many hours. ‘Sleep well. And don’t worry.’

She put the phone down and sank into her chair. She felt as if she was in the midst of some appalling storm raging round her, knocking her senseless this way and that. What was she to do, and who could she turn to? She had a dreadful, a terrible awestruck feeling that she knew exactly why Father Kennedy was so distraught, that she was waking not from her nightmare but to it, and she could hardly begin to summon the courage to confront it.

She looked up at Sarah Brownsmith, who had just walked back into the office.

‘You look terrible, Lady Morell.’

‘Thank you, Sarah.’

‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude. But you do look very white. Was that bad news?’

‘In a way, Sarah, yes.’ She sank her head on to her hands. Sarah was alarmed.

‘Can I get you something? A coffee? Brandy?’

‘Yes,’ said Phaedria, looking up with something approaching
a smile on her face. ‘Yes, I really think the occasion warrants a brandy. And a coffee. And Sarah, could you call Doctor Friedman, and see if she can see me this morning. Tell her it’s desperate. She did say she couldn’t but I have to talk to her. I absolutely have to.’

‘I don’t think your friend Father Kennedy was very pleased with your news,’ said Roz, laughing, as they drove away. ‘Poor old man, he looked terrible.’

‘Yes, he did,’ said Miles, looking thoughtful. ‘Really terrible. Shocked, I mean seriously shocked. I can’t think why. Poor old man.’

‘Maybe he isn’t well,’ said Roz. ‘He didn’t look well.’

‘He didn’t, did he? Well, I’ll call in again tomorrow and see if he’s all right. He might have a weak heart or something. The news may have had nothing to do with it. Or maybe he’s just a bit confused. Like my grandmother. These old people do get – well, odd.’

‘Maybe. Anyway, that was some proposal. I mean really romantic. You could have warned me.’

‘Oh,’ he said, smiling, ‘I think I have. Lots of times. If you’d been looking out for it.’

‘Maybe.’

‘Anyway, let me try and do it better.’ He stopped the car, pulled in to a side road, and looked at her without moving, without smiling.

‘Roz,’ he said. ‘Roz, I love you. Please will you marry me?’

‘Yes, Miles,’ she said. ‘Yes, I will.’

‘Doctor Friedman, I think now I really have to ask you some questions and you really have to answer them.’

‘Really? Why?’ Doctor Friedman was as cool, as unruffled as ever.

‘Please stop asking me questions.’

‘It’s the only way I can help you.’

‘Well,’ said Phaedria, ‘I’m not so sure about that. But anyway, let me ask you one. Who is Miles? Do you know?’

‘Don’t you?’

‘No. No, I don’t.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Of course I’m sure.’

‘Think, Phaedria. Think hard. Don’t run away from it.’

‘I don’t know what you mean.’

‘Don’t you?’

‘No,’ she almost screamed the word. ‘Yes, yes, I do. Oh, God. I just hate this so much.’

‘You don’t have to go on.’

‘I do. I do, though. You don’t know . . .’

‘Don’t know what?’

‘About Roz. And Miles.’

‘Roz and Miles?’ For the first time Dr Friedman reacted. Phaedria felt it, saw it. That told her everything. But still she turned from it.

‘Yes. Roz and Miles. They want to, they’re going to, get married.’

‘Ah.’

‘So –’

‘So, yes, we have to go on. Very well. And of course you know who Miles is, don’t you?’

‘Yes,’ said Phaedria, with a shuddering sob, ‘yes, I do. He’s Julian’s son. Isn’t he?’

‘Yes. Yes he is.’

Tears filled Phaedria’s eyes. She shivered suddenly, looked at Doctor Friedman almost fearfully. ‘Could I – could I have a drink?’

‘Of course. What do you want? Brandy?’

‘Yes, please. God –’ She smiled, brushing the tears away. ‘I’ve had one this morning already. I’ll be an alcoholic soon at this rate.’

‘There are worse things to be.’ She pressed her buzzer. ‘Joan, bring us two large brandies in, will you? And some coffee. Now then –’ she looked at Phaedria – ‘is it really so bad. For you? And didn’t you, surely you realize now, didn’t you know all along?’

‘Yes. No. You see we all wondered, obviously, we were bound to. But Letitia, his mother, you know –’

‘Yes, I know.’

‘Letitia and Eliza, and Camilla, she’s –’

‘Yes, I know who Camilla is.’

‘Oh God,’ Phaedria looked at her, and managed to smile. ‘Is
there anything about us you don’t know? Well, we all checked out some dates, the time Julian would have had to be with Miles’ mother. He wasn’t. He was either in New York or in England.’

‘Phaedria, there’s no doubt, I’m afraid. No doubt at all. Miles was obviously born either a little early or a little late. Which is the more likely, I wonder? Perhaps he will know.’

‘Perhaps.’

‘Well, is it really so bad, after all. For you?’

‘No, it’s not so bad for me. But terrible, awful for Roz. I just don’t know how she’ll bear it.’

‘How did you find out about that?’

‘Father Kennedy, an old priest in Santa Monica, who had known Miles and his parents ever since he was born, and who obviously knew, rang me, very distressed. Miles had been to see him with Roz. They told him they were going to get married. He told me I had to stop them.’

‘But he didn’t tell you why?’

‘No. Not in so many words. But I – well, I suppose I knew.’

‘Of course. You must have known many times. Whatever the evidence of the dates. When you first heard about him in the will. When you first saw Miles. When you felt that very strong attraction for him. Well, you would. He is probably very like his father. You loved his father and you were very physically involved with him. And you said to me, something like Miles made you feel as if you’d had a fix of something you had –’ she looked at her notes – ‘known and liked and been deprived off. Well, of course he would.’

‘Yes, I suppose he would.’ She was relaxing now, calm with relief that it was over, in the open.

‘Is he very like his father?’

‘Not at all, and yet terribly. He’s straightforward and relaxed and blond and blue-eyed, so not at all. But then he’s amazingly quick and intuitive and charming and makes you talk and talk, and very very sexy, so yes, very like him. There is something about him, the eyes, I suppose, that is totally Julian. Even though they’re the wrong colour.’