I Trust You (14 page)

Chapter 26

A
nne had prepared black coffee for them all, whether they’d asked for it or not.

              The papers that Clive and Lee had retrieved from the archives the previous day were laid out on the dining table.

              ‘I’ve been such an idiot.’ Marisa sipped the strong black coffee, having barely slept a wink. ‘I allowed Eliot to organise the search for my birth parents. Of course, he contacted his father who gave us the number of a private agency ‘‘who specialised in that kind of thing’’.’

              ‘All you needed to do was contact the National Adoption Agency. It is your right to be given those details as soon as you reach the age of 18,’ Clive added levelly.

              ‘Could I still do that now? Ask the Adoption Agency for my records?’ Marisa’s face was suddenly full of hope.              

              Clive adopted a gentle tone. ‘You may certainly try, but I strongly suspect that those documents do not exist.’

              Marisa glanced at the faces around the table, still struggling to grasp the implications. ‘But I was at a foster home – the same one as Lee. Roger and Trudy had to go through a rigorous process to adopt me. Erin Doran and the social workers had to decide if they were a suitable couple to look after me. The process was very official.’

              Anne leant forward. ‘I dealt with a number of children from the Dorans’ foster home. Your name meant nothing to me. You certainly weren’t under the care of Southampton Child Services.’

              ‘But I
was
, because the head of child services signed my adoption papers!’ Abruptly, Marisa was brought up short, as if reality had finally hit. ‘Bloody hell. Those papers weren’t genuine. When Eliot asked his father for help, Gerald got one of his dodgy lawyers to create a convincing looking document, enough to fool a gullible woman like me.’

              Lee rested his hand on her arm. ‘You aren’t gullible. These people have orchestrated an incredibly elaborate scheme to create a new identity for you. This is the reason why Gerald had to ensure you married his son, that way he could retain control. Your marriage certificate was on the database, so Coleman must have produced convincing enough documents for the officials at the Town Hall to register it.’

              Marisa tipped her head back and looked up at the ceiling, where the plaster was swirled into circular patterns. ‘Eliot and I got married on the tiny beach at the foot of the cliffs behind our house. The ceremony was performed by a registrar. A few days later, we needed to go to the Town Hall in Dorchester, sign a couple of forms and produce some documents. Roger and Trudy had sent all my papers through to Eliot beforehand. I suppose I assumed that included my birth certificate. Roger handled that kind of thing.’

              ‘They must have created a false one,’ Clive added. ‘It was probably the same lawyers that mocked up the adoption papers.’

              ‘Christ, it could even have been Roger himself.’ Marisa felt sick.

              ‘I came across this kind of thing a great deal as a headmaster. The children of parents who were illegally remaining in the UK often produced false papers when matriculating. These documents are extremely convincing, which is why the immigration services have such a difficult job. In your case, Marisa, absolutely nobody would be expecting you not to be who you claimed to be. It is those with dark skin and poor language skills who alert suspicion, not pretty blond girls with cut-glass English accents.’

              ‘But
why?’
She almost wailed. ‘What reason could Gerald Coleman have for pretending I was someone else? Why go to the length of arranging a false adoption, and then making sure I married his son?’

              The others were silent. They had nothing to say.

              Marisa straightened out the non-existent creases in the tablecloth, desperately trying not to burst into tears. Then an image formed in her mind. She could picture that adoption certificate held in her hands. When Eliot had presented it to her, she’d read it through a dozen times, running her finger along the names of the people she’d thought had been her real mum and dad.

              ‘There was another name,’ she said quietly.

              ‘What do you mean?’ Lee was alert.

              ‘On the adoption papers. Beneath Roger and Trudy’s signature was another name. The certificate was also signed by Bryan Doran.’

              Lee felt the vein above his left eye twitch. ‘Bryan?’

              Anne sighed heavily. ‘If you were staying at the Dorans’ place without social services being aware of your existence, then the Dorans must have been in on it. The best we can hope is that Bryan was the only one who took the bribe from Coleman to get involved in the scheme. From what I recall of Erin, she’d never have taken part in the trafficking of a child.’ She played with her cup. ‘But then money would have been very tight. Most of the families on my books who fostered, did it in large part for the cash they received.’

              Lee got to his feet. ‘Erin and Bryan didn’t do it for the money. They loved us.’

              ‘I’m not saying the two are mutually exclusive,’ Anne said kindly.

              Lee stormed out through the conservatory doors and stood very still on the patio, facing the garden.

              Marisa made to follow him.

              Anne caught her arm. ‘Leave him to it for a while, dear. He needs to take it all in. Lee knows that Bryan must have been a part of this and Erin too, but up to now they were the only people he really looked upon as his parents.’

              Marisa dropped back into her chair. ‘Anne, you said I’d been trafficked – do you actually believe that?’

              ‘It’s a crime we were very carefully trained to look out for during my latter years as a social worker.’ She ticked points off on her fingers. ‘You were taken from your birth parents, your identity was changed. You were then given to the Lawsons, who were passed off as your adoptive parents. Money very probably changed hands. It’s as clear-cut a case of child trafficking as I’ve ever come across.’

              ‘There’s something else.’ Clive edged forward conspiratorially, glancing nervously to check that Lee was still outside. ‘If your documents were in fact forgeries, there’s no doubt in my mind that you aren’t actually legally married to Eliot Coleman at all. The whole ceremony was a sham.’

Chapter 27

T
he phone Marisa was ringing clicked onto voicemail for the hundredth time. ‘There’s no point in leaving another message,’ she grumbled. ‘And he won’t recognise your number when he checks his missed calls, either.’

              Lee kept his eyes fixed on the road ahead. He’d tried to persuade Marisa against this course of action. He thought it was madness for them to risk returning to White Bay. But she had become totally convinced that Eliot could supply the answers they wanted. Their bags were packed within the hour. The pair were on the road before noon.

              Marisa could sense Lee’s bad mood. ‘I know Eliot couldn’t have been a party to this scheme of Gerald’s. We spent
ten years
of our lives together as husband and wife. You can’t keep up an act for that long.’

              ‘If you’d asked me four hours ago if Bryan Doran was capable of having a role in the trafficking of a three year old child, I’d have laughed in your face. Forgive me if I’m not as convinced as you are.’

              She gazed out of the window for a while. Her first instinct upon the discovery that everything she’d been told about her adoption was a lie had been to contact Roger and Trudy. The real betrayal had been there’s. The truth was that there was no point. Marisa couldn’t trust a word they said. She knew the love they’d given her was genuine. But the fact they were caretakers for Gerald Coleman made her livid with anger. The facts seemed blatantly clear on that score.

Eliot, on the other hand, had appeared ignorant of his father’s machinations. Her husband could be an arrogant prick at times, but she was convinced his only crime was to be too trusting of his father and turning to him at every juncture of their lives together. Marisa was certain that Eliot had asked for Gerald’s help to find out more about her adoption purely out of habit. He was so used to deferring to the man, playing second fiddle. It gave his father the opportunity to fabricate the documents that had satiated her curiosity and kept her quiet for the following eight years.

              Maybe Eliot would give them access to Gerald and Gaia’s house when he knew the extent of his father’s crimes. A search through Gerald’s papers could provide a clue as to her true identity and why they’d gone to such lengths to keep her hidden within the family. She knew it would be an incredible risk, but Marisa wasn’t sure what other options she had. The idea of a lifetime of never knowing who she really was or where she’d come from seemed unbearable.

              Before she’d realised how far they’d travelled, Lee was driving down the steep hill into White Bay. ‘I’m not going to Eliot’s house. That would be suicide. We should try the marina first. Nothing can happen to us in front of witnesses.’

              Marisa thought this was a sensible plan and said nothing. She allowed her vision to linger on the sparkling water in the bay as they approached the yacht club. The thought of never living here again left her with a heavy heart. As Lee pulled into the staff car park, Marisa saw Sam Carter standing in the foyer.

              Carter shook hands with another man, who promptly drove away. He turned his attention to Marisa. ‘What can I do for you?’ His expression was grim. ‘We’re closed today, out of respect.’ He eyed Lee with obvious disdain. ‘Which is something you would know nothing about.’

              ‘What do you mean, Sam? I’m here to speak with Eliot, not you.’ She tried to dodge past him and make for her husband’s office.

              Carter caught her shoulder. ‘Oh no you don’t.’

              Lee took a step forward. ‘Watch it pal. She’s got a right to speak with her husband. You aren’t the boss.’

              Carter’s mouth revealed the faintest glimmer of a smirk. ‘Actually, that isn’t true.’ He glanced at his Rolex. ‘As of ten minutes ago, I’m the new managing director of Coleman’s Marinas.’

              Marisa shook her blond hair in disbelief. ‘Have you gone insane? I want to speak to Eliot.’

              The man ducked inside the reception area and plucked a crumpled local paper from the coffee table. He thrust it into her hands. ‘Here, you’d better read this sweetheart.’

              He turned to Lee. ‘Hey, loverboy, you’ll need to take her somewhere quiet, where she can sit down first.’ With that, Carter slammed the door shut and locked it.

*

They ended up in one of the pubs that lined the seafront. There were a few lunchtime drinkers propping up the bar, but other than that, it was fairly quiet.

              Marisa was slumped over the front page of the White Bay Gazette, her head held in her hands. ‘I just can’t fucking believe it.’

             
Body found on beach identified as local businessman
. The headline was short and to the point, but they’d at least used a decent photo of Eliot, which showed him leaning proudly against one of their newest designs of yacht. The text was brutal:

              The body found by teenagers at the foot of White Cliff has been identified as that of local businessman Eliot Coleman, 38. Coleman was managing director of Coleman’s Marinas and had been since his father relinquished the reins to him upon retirement in 2011. Eliot was highly regarded in the area for bringing jobs and wealth to White Bay. His family have yet to release a statement in relation to the tragic event. According to police sources, it is assumed Coleman fell whilst walking his dog along the clifftop path during the evening of the 23
rd
, when visibility was poor. In a bizarre twist, Mr Coleman’s dog, a large Bull Mastiff, was discovered alongside his owner’s body. Another theory, put forward by an unnamed employee of Coleman’s Marinas, was that the deceased was unused to the strength of the animal, which must have inadvertently pulled him over the edge. Mr Coleman had only recently bought the dog, as extra security for his home. According to the source, he was a complete novice when it came to handling breeds of that size. The accident has raised again the question of whether the council should provide barriers along this particular section of the path, which runs parallel to the Colemans’ property. The man leaves a widow, Marisa, but no children. The future of Coleman’s Marinas is as yet undecided.

‘
Christ              ,
is that all the poor guy gets?’ Lee carefully folded over the page, obscuring Eliot’s beaming face from view. He pushed the brandy he’d just bought towards her. ‘Try and take a sip.’

‘This happened the day after Eliot confronted us at Petersfield Hall. There’s no way it was an accident. I bet Sam Carter was the unnamed employee. It was
him
who gave Eliot that bloody dog. Maybe he and his brother had trained the thing to do whatever they commanded.’ She shuddered. ‘I dread to think what happened up on that clifftop. Do you think the
creature
chased him over the edge? Sam was always envious of Eliot. I’m sure he would have enjoyed the job of getting rid of him.’

Lee glanced about the bar nervously. ‘Try not to think about it, sweetheart. Drink up, it’s not safe to stay here too long.’

‘This is all my fault, don’t you see? I told Eliot to be careful of his dad, that there were things about his mother I’d found out. He must have gone to Gerald and asked him about it. Maybe Eliot got too close to the truth. Gerald only had to lift the phone to Sam Carter…’ Marisa downed the brandy in one.

‘There’s nobody to blame here but Gerry Coleman.’ Lee finished his own drink and shook his head sadly. ‘But would he really send somebody to kill his own son?’

‘If he was somehow responsible for running Celia off the road back in ’94, anything is possible.’

‘I reckon every crime is at one remove for Gerry. He never gets his hands dirty himself. Coleman puts out the order and somebody dies. It might be easier for him to square it that way with his conscience.’

‘I believe he’s simply insane. Whatever happened to him as a boy, when he was in that reform home, getting experimented on by Dr Lieberman, it sent him quite mad. It’s the only scenario I can think of that could possibly explain it.’