The Devil`s Feather (44 page)

O
NE AFTERNOON,
Jess said she was going to visit Lily and asked if I’d like to go, too. I knew Jess went to the nursing home regularly, even though Lily had no idea who she was, but this was the first time she’d invited me to accompany her. I went out of curiosity—a desire to put a face to the personality I’d come to know—and I’m glad I did. Even though the fires that had driven her were now absent, Lily’s beauty was so much sweeter than her daughter’s. It proved nothing—for I firmly believe that looks are skin deep—but I did understand when she smiled why Jess was so fond of her. I’m sure the same bemused affection had been in Frank Derbyshire’s smile when his daughter had quietly taken his hand in hers, and stroked it without saying a word…

I
F
I
LIVE
to be a hundred I’ll never understand my mother’s gift for socializing. When she and my father first arrived in London, they were on the Zimbabwean exiles’ dinner party list within hours of the plane landing. My father complained about it—
“I hate being trapped at tables with people I’m never going to meet again”
—but underneath he was secretly pleased. He had more in common with ex-pat farmers who had experienced Mugabe’s ethnic cleansing at first hand than he did with the London chattering classes who could only talk about their second homes in France.

Suddenly, visitors started appearing at Barton House. I knew a few of them through Peter, but most I’d never seen before, and I certainly wasn’t on dropping-in terms with any of them. The first time anyone appeared—a jolly couple in their sixties from Peter’s end of the village—Jess was in the kitchen and, despite her best efforts to melt into the background, my mother drew her back out again. I warned her she’d scare Jess away if she wasn’t careful, but it didn’t happen. Jess turned up each evening with Dad, and seemed content to be quietly included in whatever was happening, albeit on the fringes.

On a few occasions Julie, Paula and their children came too. Even old Harry Sotherton put in an appearance, and had to be driven home by my father after consuming more ale than he was used to. It reminded me so much of life in Zimbabwe where meals were regularly stretched to accommodate anyone who was passing. Jess was never going to be the life and soul of a party, but to see her held in genuine affection by the people who knew her did her nothing but good.

Peter became the most regular visitor. I never did find out what my mother said to him, but she asked me to make the first move by inviting him over. I decided to go to his house and, if necessary, slap a MacKenzie embargo on him, but the subject never arose. He was more interested in Madeleine. “Listen to this,” he said, pressing the button on his answerphone. “I got back about five minutes ago and it was waiting for me.”

Madeleine’s strident voice filled the speaker. “Peter, are you there? The bloody nursing home’s locked the door against me. I need you to come and tell them not to be so damn…
stupid
! They say they’ll call the police if I don’t leave immediately. How
dare
the solicitor stop me seeing Mummy? He’s taken out an
injunction
against me. I’m
so
angry. Oh, to
hell
with it!” There was a muffled shout which sounded like “I’m going, for Christ’s sake,” then silence.

I couldn’t avoid a smile and Peter saw it. “What’s she on about? Do you know?”

“The solicitor’s obviously given the nursing home authority to exclude her.”

“Why?”

“It’s a long story,” I told him. “You can ask Jess about it.”

“I haven’t seen her for days. She’s not answering her phone or her door.”

“Nothing new there then,” I said. “Since when did you have to announce yourself? I thought you always went in the back.”

“I did, but—” he broke off on a sigh. “I don’t think she’s speaking to me anymore.”

“I’m not surprised if you keep ringing her doorbell. She probably thinks it’s that worm Bagley.” I watched him give a small shake of his head. “Then it’s your fault,” I said bluntly. “You changed the rules of the game and she doesn’t know how to play anymore.”

“What rules?”

“The ones that say you have to barge in on her all the time and tease her mercilessly till she laughs. She probably thinks you don’t fancy her now that you’ve seen her naked.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Mmm. About as ridiculous as you hanging around outside her front door like a nervous adolescent.” I gave his arm a friendly buffet. “We’re talking about the most introverted woman in Dorset, Peter. She’s been manhandled by a psycho…watched one of her dogs die…stood up to the third degree from Bagley…and suddenly she’s supposed to understand why a man she likes doesn’t want to tease her any more? You’re an idiot!”

He smiled grudgingly. “That’s for sure. I got it all wrong, Connie. I thought we should humour—”

I gave him another buffet, rather harder this time. “
Don’t
lay a guilt trip on me. I’m on a roll…I’m writing again…I’m
eating
again. Life’s grand. Does it matter who did what, when?” I smiled to take the sting from my words. “You helped me from the day I arrived, Peter. You and Jess helped me just by being there that night. If I’d been on my own I couldn’t have done it. Can’t you feel good about that? For me and Jess…but mostly for yourself?”

“You’re a nice person, Connie.”

“Is that a yes or a no?”

The smile stretched to his eyes. “I’m not sure yet. I’ll tell you after I’ve barged in on Jess.”

H
ALFWAY THROUGH
my parents’ stay I received a letter from Lily’s solicitor, asking what my intentions were with regard to the information Jess and I had given him. My father was deeply unimpressed by him. As he pointed out, the man was a typical lawyer. He’d failed to protect his client before the event, but was happy to keep her alive and skim his percentage afterwards.

I didn’t disagree, but I took the line of least resistance. Did I care enough about Lily to make myself available for more police questioning? No. There wasn’t a sliver of paper to draw between her and her daughter. Lily had been no more willing to acknowledge Jess than Madeleine had. There’d been no public championing of the Derbyshires, and no stamping on Madeleine’s libels. Lily had treated her brother and her niece like servants and exploited their goodwill to the nth degree.

Did I think it would do an eleven-year-old boy any good for me to spend days in court, fighting off blackmail charges, in order to separate him from his parents? No. Rightly or wrongly, I accepted Jess’s word that Nathaniel genuinely cared for his son, and I hadn’t the will or the energy to take responsibility for a child I knew nothing about.

But in the end I kept quiet for Jess’s sake. Some debts can only be repaid with loyalty.

BALLDOCK & SIMPSON SOLICITORS

Tower House Poundbury Dorset

Ms. C. Burns
Barton House
Winterbourne Barton
Dorset

14 September 2004

Dear Ms. Burns,

WITHOUT PREJUDICE

Re: Ms. Derbyshire’s account of an alleged assault on you by Madeleine Harrison-Wright; and information contained in a film purporting to show the incident

As you know, I act on behalf of Mrs. Lily Wright and I have taken the view that it is not in my client’s interests to pursue charges relating to alleged events between November 2003 and January 2004. Because of her frail health, Mrs. Wright would be unable to testify, and I believe this would result in a failed prosecution. Your case is different since you have a film of Madeleine Harrison-Wright’s apparent assault on you, and an independent witness in Ms. Derbyshire.

I cannot, of course, advise you on what action to take as you are not my client, however I hope you will forgive my presumption in pointing out some likely consequences of proceeding. Madeleine Harrison-Wright will argue that nothing she said can be relied on as there is clear evidence of provocation and coercion. Your own credibility will be questioned because you failed to report your suspicions to the police. The same is true of your witness. In addition, the very existence of the film may result in you and Ms. Derbyshire being charged with conspiracy to blackmail.

As my primary concern is Mrs. Lily Wright’s welfare, I have introduced various measures to ensure her continued welfare and safety. Please feel confident that she is being looked after with kindness, and is as happy as her condition allows. Before her health failed, she gave me certain instructions regarding herself, her family and her estate. Despite, or perhaps because of, the information you and Ms. Derbyshire obtained from Mrs. Madeleine Harrison-Wright, I see no reason to move away from those instructions.

1. For the foreseeable future, Barton House will remain in Mrs. Lily Wright’s estate.

2. Mrs. Wright’s nursing-home care will continue to be covered by income from its rental and income from her investments.

3. Should the sale of Barton House become necessary, the money will be placed in trust for the benefit of Mrs. Wright during her lifetime.

4. Upon her death, the benefit will pass to her grandson, Hugo Harrison-Wright, with all disbursement of money at the discretion of trustees.

5. In the event that Barton House remains unsold at the time of Mrs. Lily Wright’s death, it will pass to her niece to keep or dispose of as she pleases.

Ms. Derbyshire tells me you fully understand the implications of these decisions, but should you require further clarification please feel free to contact me. As per Mrs. Lily Wright’s instructions, Nathaniel and Madeleine Harrison-Wright remain in ignorance of her wishes.

While I accept that you have a genuine grievance against Madeleine Harrison-Wright, I worry that an attempted prosecution will exonerate her and allow her access to confidential information. For this reason, may I urge you to consider all of the above and let me know if you intend to proceed? You will, of course, be aware that any such action will lead to disclosures about Ms. Derbyshire’s connection with the family.

Finally, on behalf of Mrs. Lily Wright, I would like to thank you and Ms. Derbyshire for bringing these matters to my attention. I am distressed that my client was unable to inform me of what was happening to her at the time, but I am advised that her long-term condition would not have been unduly affected by her daughter’s mistreatment. Sadly, the progress of the disease was always irreversible.

Yours sincerely,

Thomas Balldock

24

S
EVERAL RUMORS SURFACED
at the same time, although it wasn’t clear where they started. Everyone knew about the injunction preventing Madeleine from visiting Lily, and it was generally assumed that she’d made an attempt on her mother’s life in the nursing-home. From that developed the Chinese whispers. I was told variously that Madeleine had been diagnosed with a personality disorder; that she was under compulsory psychiatric care; that she’d been forced to leave the London flat after assaulting her son; that Nathaniel had filed for divorce; and that a restraining order had been imposed to stop her coming within a mile of Winterbourne Barton.

The only whisper I knew to be true (apart from the nursing-home injunction) was the restraining order which Thomas Balldock had applied for on behalf of Jess and myself. I don’t know what evidence he presented, but we were told to notify the police if Madeleine or Nathaniel tried to contact us or enter our properties. However, it wasn’t until Peter bumped into an acquaintance of Nathaniel’s in London that the separation was confirmed. According to the acquaintance, it was Nathaniel and Hugo who’d moved out of the flat, and Madeleine who remained in possession. Father and son were living in Wales with Nathaniel’s parents, and Madeleine was struggling to pay the bills.

The residents of Winterbourne Barton were surprisingly honest in their reactions. Most claimed to be shocked by the rumours, but a few said they’d always found Madeleine’s charm superficial. I was the recipient of several indirect apologies to Jess for some of the things that had been said and thought about her, but no one was brave enough to make them in person. If they tried, they were met with a ferocious scowl.

I stayed out of it, but I know my mother urged her to be generous since people were “only trying to be nice.” Jess replied that it was
she
who was being nice, by letting them “gawp” at her, because the only thing that had changed was their perception of Madeleine. Jess was the same as she’d always been and Winterbourne Barton remained a retirement village for rich, ignorant pensioners who knew nothing about the countryside. Under my mother’s emollient balm, she was persuaded to produce the odd smile in place of a scowl, but small talk remained beyond her.

I suggested to Mum that as soon as she and Dad went back to London Jess’s brief renaissance would be over. “I don’t want to schmooze the locals any more than she does,” I pointed out, “and my tenancy ends in December.”

“Jess has a kind heart,” she said. “If she hears of someone in trouble, she’ll help them. She helped you, didn’t she?”

“But I didn’t impose on the friendship.”

My mother laughed. “And neither will anyone else. People aren’t stupid, Connie. As long as she keeps making social calls, everything will work out fine. It’s hard to dislike someone with as much warmth as Jess has.”