One Hundred Days, page 11
sunDAY
DAY 36
Mary felt a little excited on Sunday morning as she put on some tidy jeans and a pretty shirt for the trip to meet Ben’s parents. Ben had stressed that it was to be an informal event, he probably would not even warn them that he would not be alone but she wanted to make a good impression.
Mike, however, had other ideas. In spite of their little chat, he had left a large bouquet of flowers in a vase on her mantelpiece where Ben could not possibly miss them. Mary moved them to the bedroom. While she made her toast, the flowers moved back.
“I know when I’m beaten.”
When Ben rang the bell, Mary opened the door just a crack and squeezed out.
It was only a short journey to where Ben’s parents lived. They drew up outside a pleasant suburban house with an immaculately groomed garden. Ben rang the bell even though he had a key and greeted his mother, Flora, with a hug.
“This is Mary,” he said and Flora accepted the statement at face value. Either she already knew all about Mary or she was a remarkably incurious individual.
They were shown to a large room with little furniture other than three enormous sofas from where they had a clear view of the garden and Ben’s mother produced tea and freshly made scones. Mary felt slightly on edge but there was no sign of Mike so she began to relax. Perhaps he couldn’t be here so he had left the flowers in an attempt to cause trouble between her and Ben since he could not do it personally.
“Your father will be along soon,” Flora said. “I can’t think where he has got to.”
Ben’s father, Gordon, appeared shortly afterwards from the direction of the shed. His curly hair stood on end and boasted the odd cobweb and there were fibres of pink insulation on his trousers.
“Have you been in the loft messing with that aerial again?” inquired Ben.
Gordon gestured to Mary. “Listen to Sherlock Mackay.”
“Well, it’s not difficult,” replied Ben. “I’ve got something for you in the car. Come on.”
Together they collected a large box which turned out to contain a satellite dish.
“It’s time you came into the modern world,” explained Ben. The pair of them disappeared to fetch a ladder and put up the dish on the side of the house. Gusts of wind disrupted their efforts – something which made Mary highly suspicious – but they managed to hang on to the dish and eventually it was secured in place. Then up, down, up, down plugging in wires and making adjustments until finally it was declared to be in the correct position and Ben called his mother for the grand demonstration which took place amid expressions of delight from both Gordon and Flora.
“He’s such a good boy,” said Flora to Mary and (silently) Mary had to agree he was a son to be proud of. “And good with electronics and computers, too. I’m always pressing the wrong button and losing everything. I don’t know what we’d do without him.”
Ben retrieved the ladder and took it back to the shed.
When he returned, Mary was looking at photographs on the mantelpiece while Flora proudly elaborated with indiscrete stories.
“You joined the army cadets after school, then?” questioned Mary, holding a picture of Ben and a small group of other young men on a rock-climbing expedition.
Ben looked wistful. “Good times. Joe there joined up but I failed the medical because of a rugby injury.”
“They were like brothers,” commented Flora. “Let’s see…. that’s Harry in the background and Robert and Alistair and Malcolm.”
In an aside to Mary, she whispered: “Never did like Alistair,” before continuing: “Joe is out of the army now and he and Ben still go climbing and anything else dangerous….”
“Exciting, fun,” substituted Ben.
“That they can think of,” finished Flora.
Ben winked at Mary.
“When we get the time, which isn’t so often these days.”
Mary was reaching for a little clay model that was right in the centre when suddenly it moved on its own. It was only Mary’s quick reactions that prevented it from smashing on the floor – which would have been embarrassing since it would have appeared to be her fault. Carefully she replaced it, glaring at where she imagined Mike must be standing. Fortunately, Ben and Flora were still bickering in a playful way about the photographs and did not seem to have noticed although they certainly would have if Mary had not caught it.
There was a short silence then Flora suggested: “Why don’t you show Mary the garden? Your father is going to enter the dahlias in the show next week.”
Ben and Mary went outside but were not so far out of earshot that Mary did not hear Flora say to Gordon ‘She seems like a nice girl. Better than his usual’ as suppressing a smile she followed Ben to the greenhouse. But the air seemed heavy as though a sudden storm was brewing; in fact, it was positively claustrophobic and in the house, she heard Flora start to cough.
“Mike?” whispered Mary crossly but there was no reply.
“We’d better be going,” said Ben. “Anyway, it’s time I was somewhere else. That little diversion with the television took longer than I thought it would. You wouldn’t mind if I dropped you at the bus stop, would you?”
“Of course not.”
A wave of relief swept over her; now she would not have to find an excuse not to invite him in, would not have to excuse those flowers on the mantelpiece.
“I hope you’ve enjoyed the visit,” he said as he opened the car door to let her out.
Mary assured him that she had. “And the baby photos on the sideboard and that little hippo you made when you were seven were great,” she teased.
“It was a cat,” he retorted. “Talk to you later. ’Bye.”
monDAY
DAY 37
With the weekend over, Mary had time to collect her thoughts. She must visit Silverwood Hall but on what pretext? A sudden concern for Gary? They had never been close. She could not simply turn up; he was so prickly. Mary sighed.
It had been good to see Rachel, though. And meeting Ben’s parents had gone well. “In spite of Mike’s best efforts,” thought Mary.
Mike. Aside from personal gripes, talking to Rachel had started her wondering once again where Charles’ and Mike’s paths could have crossed. And whose life Charles had ruined and whether it was deliberate. If it was…. Rachel had intimated Uncle Charles resented Jared’s existence.
Enough to hurt him? The light would be red. But carelessness might suffice and resentment was unlikely to breed concern and consideration.
“I need to find Jared. For his own sake and for Rachel’s. I’m not five years old any more, there must be more I can do. Poor Jared…. and Ellen, poor Ellen…. she would be twenty-seven now, she would have a job, perhaps she would be married….”
Mary was staring unseeingly at her computer screen when her reverie was interrupted by Ryan.
“We’re all going down the pub on Friday, would you like to come?”
“No-o.… thanks,” said Mary. “It’s nice of you, though. But I’ve got things to do.”
“Again?”
“Yes, again.”
“Aye, aye. Secret boyfriend?”
Mary blushed. “Of course not,” she said.
She might as well have saved her breath because Ryan turned and called out: “Hey, everybody, Mary’s got a boyfriend.”
From half-way down the room Pete called back: “Leave the poor girl alone.”
He advanced towards them. “Take no notice,” he said to Mary, who had almost returned to a normal colour. “Now then, I was on my way to see you. There’s a little job I need you to do.”
She waited.
“About this time of year, we hold a Spring Fete,” he continued. “Helps connect with the local community, raises money for charity, you know the sort of thing.”
Mary’s eyes may have widened a little but that was all; she made sure her expression did not alter. Inside, however, she felt horrified; she could guess what was coming. She couldn’t organise a fete, she had never done anything like that in her life.
“It’s all right,” Pete reassured her. “You don’t have to do it all by yourself. As a company we do these things regularly so Christine in the office is well on top of it. Give her a call.”
He sauntered off in the direction of his desk.
Mary stared at the telephone. She did not know Christine; she did not know what to say. Her eyes followed Pete across the room. There was no way out of it so she had better get on with it. She took a deep breath and picked up the receiver.
“Hi, Mary, I thought you might call.” The voice at the other end was friendly and warm. “I expect Pete explained part of my job is to organise events across the region. I just need you to sort out the local stuff,” she said. “Pete has already found a venue – he’ll explain all about that – and the other thing is: choose a theme.”
“Theme?” questioned Mary.
“Yes, we find it helps to arouse interest. For instance, you can have a theme-related fancy dress competition and theme-related music – such as jazz if it’s an American theme – and you can get the local school-kids involved in designing posters or doing a write-up for the school magazine and things like that. I can send you some little paperweights that look like hard hats and ballpoint pens and so on we usually give them for entering and then there’ll be book tokens for the winners.”
Together they chose Victorian Days and by the time Mary came off the telephone having discussed the various stalls they might have, she felt much more confidant and quite excited. It would be fun to dress up as an elegant Victorian lady.
* * *
“Rachel didn’t hang around. I didn’t think she would.” Mary sat watching the appeal for information on Jared’s whereabouts. One thousand pounds. That should motivate people to come forward.“I do hope Rachel is all right. Henry had a point about it being stressful.”
Mary poured herself a glass of wine and put a DVD of her favourite musical in the player.
tuesDAY
DAY 38
“I told you before I won’t give him up whatever your opinion,” exploded Mary the moment Mike walked through the door the following evening.
“Don’t you have something better to think about than that arrogant big-head,” he responded.
“That’s not the point. You didn’t listen to a word I said.”
“I listened to every word.”
“And took not the blindest bit of notice.”
“Meaning?”
“Don’t act the innocent.”
Mary outlined her complaints.
“All this is about a few temperature fluctuations and the fact you nearly dropped an ornament?”
“I may not be able to prove it was you but that makes no difference. We both know you don’t like Ben and you just admitted it when you called him an arrogant big-head.”
“All right, so I don’t like him.”
Mary glared at him.
“And you can keep your opinions – however expressed – to yourself.”
She sat down plonk in the chair. This was where he was supposed to see the error of his ways. Just because they had an alliance, he did not own her. He had to back off Ben.
“You like him, I don’t. Why don’t you take it slowly and see how it works out?”
It was the sort of thing her mother would say. Or a big brother. In fact, come to think of it, he fitted the profile perfectly: solid, reliable, never complained about being taken for granted….
My big brother I always wanted. The thought made Mary smile and as she did so, Mike’s expression softened in return. Perhaps his behaviour was understandable. Unacceptable but understandable.
It suited them both to change the subject.
“I visited Rachel Parker and Charles’ business seems to be doing better,” offered Mary.
“I will do some more checks on Henry Parker’s finances.”
“Henry’s? Surely you mean Charles’?”
“I meant Henry’s. Just to make sure there wouldn’t be any point in staging a kidnapping himself in order to access funds he wouldn’t normally be able to touch. Everything was in order when I last looked but you do hear of these things.”
“When you last looked?”
“As I was saying, you hear of these things – you know, investment banker gets into trouble gambling or dodgy deals on the stock-market or whatever and has to come up a lot of money fast…. and yes, I am checking on Charles’ finances as well,” he added.
Mary had the distinct feeling there was something he was not telling her about his investigation of both the Parkers and the Armstrongs.
In spite of his reaction the last time she had mentioned the subject, Mary could not help herself.“Mike, what is your interest in Charles? Is it to do with why you came back? Is Henry part of it? Is Jared?”
“Now look, Mary. I thought you wanted me to help you investigate Charles and the Parkers. If our interests coincide, is that a problem?”
“No, of course not. Do they?”
Mike sighed. “No. We just have some of the same players in common.”
“Have you found out yet whether you were right about that person you said should be behind bars?”
His lips pursed. “I was right. Wistfully, he continued: “If I could simply lift the documents that incriminate him and leave them on Andrew’s desk…. but I can’t. Interfering in the lives of mortals is not permitted.”
“Surely that’s what you’ve been doing ever since I met you?”
“When you think about it, all I have done is observe,” Mike replied haughtily.
Mary thought about it. “And reporting your observations to me?”
“Is different to direct interference. It could influence events, then again, it might not. For instance, when you wanted to book a room in the same hotel as the Parkers, there might not have been one available. When you decided to attend the handover, you might have had some mishap on the way and never got there.”
He was sailing close to the wind, thought Mary.
“Come on,” he wheedled, “the practice of spirits giving mortals messages or warnings has been going on for centuries.”
“Well, I hope you know what you’re doing.”
Mike grinned. “So do I.”
“What about our alliance? My part of the bargain was to furnish practical help when the time came. So, why don’t I collect this evidence you were talking about for you and take it to Andrew?”
“Point one: Not very subtle. Unless you’re up for a little breaking and entering, I would have to give the documents to you. Close to direct interference, don’t you think? Point two: I’m not ready. I would like to make further inquiries into the exact circumstances of….” He grimaced “…. a certain event…. and try to establish what his accomplices knew or didn’t know. Point three: Events have moved on. The way things are, it would be wrong to ask you.”
“Does that mean our arrangement is over?” asked Mary, panic in her voice.
“No. I will help you look for Jared as I promised and it may be that circumstances will change and you will help me yet, who knows?”
Mary desperately wanted to ask what the event was that Mike seemed so upset about but knew she should not.
Mike’s thoughts turned inwards and Mary watched strong emotion register on his face.
He looked sad and broken, not at all the Mike she knew.
wednesDAY
DAY 39
Mary was in the shower when the phone rang. Quickly, she rinsed the shampoo off her hair, turned off the water and opened the door to grab her towel. Silence. The phone had stopped. Mary finished showering at her usual leisurely pace then crossed the room to the blinking phone to play the message.
“Hi, Mary. It’s working. There have been two sightings.” There was a clattering and a soft thud. “Sorry, dropped you. I’m so nervous. Look, don’t call me back, it takes years off my life every time the phone rings. I just thought I’d tell you but I’ve done that now so…. well…. ’Bye.” Rachel rang off.
“I was about to tell you the same thing,” said Mike, materialising in the corner. “The sightings are both in the same area, around one hundred and fifty miles from here.”
No chance of taking the long way home after work in the hope of seeing for herself, then.
“I thought I might pop over if I have a few minutes,” observed Mike.
All day, Mary kept glancing at the clock. Had Mike been yet? Were either of these children Jared? The day dragged and the bus home seemed to be grinding along particularly slowly and waiting longer than usual at every bus stop. Even the walk to her flat seemed to have grown longer. Back at home, the minutes ticked by until finally, Mike appeared.
“I went to see the ‘Jareds,’” he said. He seemed amused about something.
“Go on then, spill,” Mary prompted impatiently.
“I arrived at the first house at the same time as a constable from the local station so I hung back and watched. He knocked on the door and explained they had received a report of a little boy matching Jared’s description living at that address and asked if he could see her son. The woman gave him a withering stare and replied ‘You’ll have a job. My ‘son’ is a girl.’ You should have seen the constable’s face.
“He was obviously intending to proceed to the next address so instead of going on my own, I decided to accompany him. It was another girl,” he said in delighted tones. “Although to be fair, there was a strong resemblance to Jared in both cases.”
“This is no laughing matter,” Mary scolded him.
“I know. I’m sorry. It was amusing, though. The expression on his face….” Mike smiled at the memory but Mary’s expression remained serious.
“We’re back to square one.”
