False Diamond--An Abbot Agency Mystery (33 page)

One blessing; Max and Nicole were not going to be around for the celebration, as they had taken Pippin off for a winter holiday in the sun. The tabloids sported pictures of the happy family, who were expecting another addition, etc.

Leon continued to send Bea a bouquet of flowers and an invitation to supper every few days. Bea binned the invitations and passed the flowers on to the girls in the office. One day there was no invitation, but a handwritten note from Leon excusing himself from attendance at the wedding, due to pressure of business. So that was that. Wasn't it?

Bea told herself it was no more than she'd expected.

Maggie developed pre-wedding nerves but Bea got her to the Registry Office in time. Two hours later Maggie danced down the aisle at church for a blessing on her marriage, while her mother cried neatly into a hankie, and Bernice threw rose petals around with abandon and total disregard for those who had to clear them up afterwards. The wedding breakfast started off rather stiffly, but people relaxed as soon as sufficient champagne had been poured down their throats. Sybil wore yet another fabulous fur coat and a hat decorated with feathers. Bea wore grey and caught herself wondering why Leon had opted out of the occasion.

In the Business section of
The
Times
the following day Bea read that Holland Holdings had been split into two. Old man Holland would retain chairmanship of the overseas division, while Leon – pictured with colourful managing directors of various of his companies – took over the rest.

At the weekend CJ took Bea out for a meal, saying he'd heard that almost all the money stolen from Holland Holdings had been recovered, and that the stock market had been favourably impressed by the new CEO for the British division while reserving judgement on old man Holland's continuing to rule his overseas empire. She did not invite him back for a nightcap.

Still no one could find Ginevra, which was unsettling to say the least.

Midweek, Inspector Durrell arrived in time for supper. He said that Forensics had painstakingly fingerprinted Benton's car, and although Ginevra had sworn she'd never been anywhere near it, they'd found her prints on the radio button and on the back of a wing mirror. In addition, although they hadn't yet found where she'd bought the pills she'd used to kill Benton and the boys, they had found the empty packaging in a neighbour's dustbin and identified her prints on it.

Polishing off a large helping of pheasant pie, the inspector also reported that Ginevra's business partner Clodagh had been appalled to find herself implicated in murder and had admitted she'd given Ginevra a false alibi. The police had also traced Ricky, who was indeed a professional photographer. When arrested, he admitted that he'd seen nothing wrong in helping his friend Ginevra ‘sort out' Mrs Abbot who, she said, had owed her a lot of money.

Inspector Durrell asked if Mrs Abbot would care to give witness against Ricky, and Mrs Abbot said that since Benton was dead and she was busy with a number of new clients, she'd prefer to let the matter drop.

Days passed without any more news.

Surprise! Sybil Holland rang to speak to Bea one afternoon. ‘You have a minute, Mrs Abbot?' A throaty voice, used to command, but for some reason prepared to ask a favour.

Bea grinned to herself. This would be about Bernice. Maggie had reported – with some amusement – that Sybil considered Bernice spent too much time on the phone to Maggie. Sybil had ordered Bernice to stop phoning Maggie. The child had taken no notice, so Sybil had confiscated her phone. Bernice had got round Maria and used the house phone instead. Then Leon had intervened – apparently, he did his best to spend time with the child – and had given her a phone of her own.

So what did Bernice's great aunt want now? ‘What can I do for you, Sybil?'

‘My great niece is fascinated by Maggie's tale about having to catch the toast as it flies out of the machine. She wants to see it for herself and has asked if she may buy you a new one.'

‘That's very kind of her, and you know she's welcome to visit at any time. As for the toaster, it's already been replaced.'

‘Oh. Right. She's doing well at her new school. Mature for her age.'

According to Maggie, Bernice was looking after her mother, instead of the other way round.

‘Dilys, you see,' said Sybil, every word being pulled out of her with pliers, ‘is not doing so well.'

‘It's early days, and you've provided the best possible care for her.' A statement, not a query.

‘We've offered to buy her another house, or to take her on a world cruise. She has a therapist, and a flat for herself and Bernice in the guest quarters, but she wanders around like a lost soul.'

Dilys hadn't been a very strong character in the first place, and what had happened to her would have crushed a grown man.

Bea said, ‘She was kind to me when I was poorly. Is there anything I can do?'

‘Yes, well … Actually –' in a rush – ‘I've got a meeting tomorrow morning that I can't get out of, and Leon's in Brussels, something to do with taxation. The only thing Dilys has set her heart on … We don't approve, but maybe it will help … She wants to revisit her old home. She imagines it as it was when she left, and she was distressed to hear that Ginevra had cleared out all the family's belongings. I said you'd kept all the boys' things and that you'd get them back to her. Perhaps, if she can pick out some mementoes and see the house as it is now, it will give her closure.'

Another little job for the hired help. ‘You'd like me to meet her there tomorrow with the children's belongings?'

‘Ten o'clock suit you?'

‘Who's got the keys?'

‘I'll see that Dilys has some. Our maintenance people changed the locks. They've been keeping an eye on the place. There was a leak, a broken downpipe at the back. That's been rectified and the whole house professionally cleaned. The furniture has been left there for the moment as we weren't sure whether to let the house furnished or not. Dilys thinks we've cleaned up so that she can move back in. We keep telling her that she's got other options, but she's not listening. She wants Bernice to take a day off school and go with her.' This was delivered in a flat, unemotional voice.

Tread carefully. ‘Bernice as well? Is that wise? Hasn't the child suffered enough? Why remind her of the past?'

‘I am entirely in agreement with you, and Bernice doesn't really want to go. I've told her to be brave and do it for her mother's sake.'

‘In that case, shall I see if Maggie can come, too?'

A hesitation. ‘Perhaps. The child does seem to rely on her, doesn't she?'

A chilly wind. A spit of rain in the air.

Luckily, Bea found a parking space nearby. As they unloaded the plastic bags containing the children's belongings from their car, they spotted a chauffeur-driven limousine some way down the street.

And there was Bernice standing in the front door of her old home, looking anxious. Bernice hadn't wanted to come, had she? Poor child. She didn't run to greet them but, when they met, clasped Maggie about the waist and buried her head in her coat. Maggie dropped the bags she'd been carrying to give the girl a hug.

Bea dragged the last of the bags inside and closed the front door, grateful that someone had thought to turn the heating on.

Bernice whispered something to Maggie and tugged her up the stairs.

Bea called out, ‘Hello? Dilys, it's me, Mrs Abbot. I've got the children's things.'

Dilys appeared in the doorway, a pale and thinner version of her former self. She'd had her hair cut in a becoming style and was wearing some pretty, warm clothing, but her eyes were unfocused. Bea wasn't even sure that the girl recognized her. Perhaps she was on heavy medication?

Dilys stared at the black bags, but made no move to open them. It took Bea two trips to cart them through into the living room. Yes, it was nice and clean in here now. And soulless. Stripped of all personal effects.

‘Shall we have a look?' suggested Bea, opening up the first bag and spreading out the contents on the floor. Dilys sat on a chair and watched but made no move to pick anything up.

Bea could hear Bernice murmuring to Maggie upstairs and an exclamation from the older girl.

A seagull screeched.

Bea dropped the bag she was holding. ‘What was that?'

A scamper down the stairs. Bernice, wailing, ‘Mummy, the house is screaming!'

Maggie appeared behind the child, puzzled, amused. ‘No, Bernice. Really!'

Dilys managed to focus on her daughter. ‘Silly Bunny! Imagining things.'

Bernice's eyes were wild. ‘Can't you hear it? We've got to go!'

‘Silly Bunny,' said Dilys. ‘That's what Daddy used to say, wasn't it? “Silly Bunny had a bad dream.”'

Bea began to understand what was going on. She knelt by Bernice and caught her hands in both of hers. ‘Bernice, where did you hear the screams?'

‘In my room!'

‘Were they in the walls, or in the air? Were they an echo in your head?'

The child thought about it. Nodded.

‘You can hear yourself screaming?'

Dilys frowned. ‘I always told her not to scream. It only made him worse. She never did. She never made a noise.'

‘She couldn't scream out loud, so she made the noise inside her head. Is that right, Bernice?'

The child nodded. ‘Inside my head. Inside Mummy's head, too, because she mustn't scream, either.'

Maggie wept. ‘Oh, you poor things!'

Bea's own eyes filled with tears, but she realized how crucial it was to say and do the right thing. Dilys was poised between the past and the future and could tip either way. Bernice was the key to her mother's future well-being.

‘Bernice, you are a little soldier. You saved your mother's life. Yes, she did, Dilys. Perhaps they haven't told you about it, but if it hadn't been for her you would have died, and neither of you would be looking forward to tomorrow.'

Dilys said, ‘We need to get back to normal. Bernice must return to her old school—'

‘Bernice has moved on. She has a new school now, and a loving family. The only thing she doesn't have is a loving mother.'

Dilys's face twisted. ‘You don't understand. How can I think of anything but my lovely lost boys?'

‘And your lovely lost girl? Who saved your life and who can still hear your screams?'

Dilys turned her head aside. ‘How dare you!' Yet there was no heat in her protest.

‘Do you want to lose her, too?'

‘Don't be ridiculous! How could I lose her?'

‘Very easily, the way you're going. Listen to me, Dilys. Children need to be loved. If they don't get that love from their parents, they'll get it elsewhere. From a great aunt or uncle. From Maggie. At the moment it seems to me that they all love her more than you do.'

‘That's ridiculous!' She turned Bernice's face towards her. ‘You love me, don't you, Bunny?'

‘Of course I do, Mummy,' said Bernice, ‘though I do wish you'd call me by my proper name, as Maggie does.'

Flecks of red appeared in Dilys's cheeks. ‘Maggie, indeed! Come on, poppet, let's pick some things out of the bags to take home with us. We don't need Maggie or Mrs Abbot to tell us what to think, do we?'

Half an hour later, Bea and Maggie waved the chauffeur-driven car off and allowed themselves to relax. Maggie got into Bea's car and did up her seat belt, but kept her face averted.

Bea said, ‘You think I betrayed you to Dilys? I didn't. That child will love you to the day you die, and you will soon have a child of your own to love. If Dilys thinks Bernice might love you more than her, then she'll value her more highly.'

‘Yes. I know. I need chocolate.'

‘Do you want hot chocolate, Dairy Milk, seventy per cent cocoa chocolate, or something made with powder in a plastic cup?'

‘I could eat a whole bar of Fruit and Nut, but I'll settle for hot chocolate, properly made, with whipped cream on top. With a chocolate Flake in it.'

‘For medicinal purposes, of course.'

‘And a bacon sandwich. No lettuce or tomato.'

‘God bless your tum. Now, where's the nearest good coffee shop?'

S
even days later, Bea received not a food hamper nor flowers but a letter from Holland Enterprises (UK) stating that they were looking for an executive to fill the post of managing director at Holland Training College, salary so much with bonuses, accommodation provided. The successful applicant to be interviewed shortly. The letter was signed by Leon, who had scrawled at the bottom, ‘Will you find me someone?'

She leaned back in her chair, smiling. So he'd accepted her decision not to get involved with H & B? Good. And yet. She had to admit to being a trifle disappointed. It had been … intriguing … to be offered more power, more money.

But, no. She knew her limitations.

Someone to run H & B for him? A name leaped into her mind. Anna was the events manager for a charity who had used the services of the Abbot Agency for many years. Anna could have run the Home Office if she'd been inclined to go into the Civil Service, but a career break for family reasons had hampered her rise in the world, and she'd reached a glass ceiling where she was.

Would she want the job? Bea referred back to the letter. Accommodation offered. That might mean a house move for the applicant or, if Anna didn't want to move, a not too difficult commute. The salary was attractive. Bonuses, too? Good.

Bea raised her hand to the phone to sound Anna out and dropped it again.

If Anna did take the job and Leon recognized her excellent qualities, would he also want to take her into his personal life? Propinquity, and all that, leading to a relationship?

How old exactly was Anna? Early forties. She'd been married once, had a couple of teenaged children. Was she still young enough to give Leon a baby?