Winners and Losers (25 page)

He recalled seeing a sign in the village about a property for sale. It was a large piece of land with commercial buildings on it and might make a garage. Maybe he would buy it and let Daniel set up the garage he'd always wanted; it would still leave him plenty to buy a house and start up in business for himself – if only he knew what he wanted to do with his life.

Connor had come to one conclusion and that was his time on the road had finished. He didn't want to go back to that kind of life. Recording contracts and theatre work were another matter, but he probably wouldn't get a chance to work as a singer again. He had no idea what else he could do, but he knew he didn't want to go back to the life he'd had before he became a singer.

He had to think of something different. In the meantime he was going to find a phone and ring Terry. Terry would know if the record company had been in touch . . .

‘You don't have to see him tomorrow,' Mrs Jenkins told her daughter. ‘Just because your father seems to think he is telling the truth, it doesn't mean you have to put up with this, Sarah. Even if there is no truth in this story, it isn't what you want – is it?'

‘I don't like Connor being away all the time,' Sarah admitted. She had stopped crying after her father told her that he was convinced the story in the papers was a lie, but her nose was still red and her expression was miserable. ‘People will think it is true even if it isn't – and the girls will look at me and laugh behind my back. They were jealous when they saw the presents he gave me, and his picture in the papers, but now they will think he doesn't really care about me.'

‘Is that why you are upset?'

‘Yes . . .' Sarah blushed. ‘It isn't just that, Mum. But I don't like people staring at me and whispering behind my back. I do love Connor and I like going out with him, but he's always away. I feel stupid if I go out with my friends, because I know they are saying things . . .'

‘That is what you get when you marry someone famous,' her mother said. ‘If it upsets you, Sarah, perhaps you should break off your engagement. He will never want to stay at home and do a proper job like your father could give him.'

‘Mum!' Sarah stared at her. She felt sick and tears were pricking her eyes again. She loved Connor and she wanted to believe him, of course she did, but perhaps her mother was right. She didn't think she could bear to face her friends knowing what they would say about Connor. ‘I do care about him, but . . .' She shook her head and sighed. ‘I'm not sure if I want to marry him now.'

‘Supposing I take you away for a few weeks,' her mother suggested. ‘Would you like to go and stay with me at a hotel in Bournemouth? You could write to Connor and tell him you need to think things over.'

‘Yes.' Sarah caught at the lifeline her mother offered. ‘I'll ask work if I can go on holiday – and I will see Connor, but I'll tell him I need some time to think things through.'

‘Yes, I think that is fair,' Mrs Jenkins said and smiled at her. ‘Remember, I shall still think the best of you whatever you decide. You do not have to marry him, Sarah. You can give him his ring back and that will be the end of it.'

‘You think there is some truth in it, don't you?' Connor asked. They had gone out to the yard together to look at some of Daniel's cars and talk. ‘I saw the way you looked at me when you first came back from Ely.'

‘I wasn't sure,' Daniel replied. ‘Once upon a time I would have been certain it was a lie – but you've been mixing with people that get caught up in all kinds of things. You might have been drunk or—'

‘On drugs?' Connor arched his brows. ‘Come on, Dan. You should know I wouldn't touch that stuff. As for rape – I've never forgotten what Clay did to Margaret. If you think I would do something like that to a kid – that is what she is, Dan, a fifteen-year-old kid!'

‘Sorry. I should have known you wouldn't. To tell you the truth, my head was mixed up. I had just been to see Maura Jacobs – David's mother – and I was angry. Seeing those headlines made me as mad as fire. I had been lecturing Maura about her behaviour and then I saw that you had been accused of rape . . .'

‘You should be angry. I'm angry that they've printed those lies and that the other papers have followed suit without asking for my side of the story.'

‘You've probably made it worse by running away. They will think it proof of guilt.'

‘They can damned well think what they like! I phoned Terry. He says the company is pulling our contract – it may be too late to stop a couple of singles going out, but the album won't see the light of day.'

‘I'm sorry,' Daniel said. ‘That is rotten luck. You were doing so well.'

‘I've got some money put by. Enough to see me set up in a business of some kind – when I decide what I want to do . . .' He hesitated. ‘I've spoken to John Tench about that land in the village street, Daniel. He wants a thousand pounds for it. I reckon it would cost another thousand to set it up as a garage with a decent showroom. There are buildings already – of course, you would need to apply for planning permission for change of use, but Tench is on the local council and he says a garage is needed. He thinks you would get the permission for change of use easily.'

‘Sounds a good opportunity, but I don't have two thousand pounds to spare,' Daniel said, smothering a sigh. ‘I'm doing better since I got rid of the milking herd but the garage is still a long way off.'

‘It doesn't have to be. I can afford to buy it and pay for whatever you need, Dan. I don't want anything from it, but if you want to pay me back one day, you can. As far as I am concerned, it is something back for all you've done for me. You and Alice gave me a home after Frances went off her head that time – and I've never paid a penny in rent.'

‘You worked for your keep,' Daniel said. ‘You don't owe me anything, Con.'

‘Well, the option to pay me back is there,' Connor said. ‘Alice deserves it, Dan. Even if you don't want it for yourself, think of her. You could sell the land, move into a house in the village and have a better life for yourselves. Alice would make more friends, mix with other women more than she can stuck here in the fen. You could have a television too.' He grinned because he knew his brother had secretly hankered for one for a long time.

‘Won't it leave you short?' Daniel was hesitating. Connor felt pleased, because he knew his brother was weakening.

‘To be honest, I'm rolling in it, Dan. I haven't splashed my earnings on new cars, because the one you gave me suits me fine. I was saving for a house at first but the money kept coming in and I've been putting it by. It will set me up in a business when I'm ready. I don't know yet what I want to do – but I've finished with gigs and being on the road all the time.'

‘You won't go back to recording?'

‘I doubt I shall get the chance. The police can't prove anything, because I didn't touch her – except pull her out of the car – but mud sticks. I doubt if a record company would touch me now.'

‘Sue her and the papers for defamation of character.'

‘Don't think I haven't thought of it,' Connor said, eyes glittering. ‘I'm going to speak to Sarah tomorrow, but after that I'm going back to London. I'll talk to someone I know about a lawyer. I want a retraction in the paper, but if Lisa refuses to admit she lied . . .'

‘It isn't fair that you should lose so much. I'll take your money, Connor, because it is just what I need. I know I can make a success of the garage and one day I'll pay you back with interest, though it won't be for a while yet. I owe Frances some money and I want to pay her as soon as I can.'

‘I'm in no hurry.' Connor gave his brother a sharp look. ‘So just who is Cousin David?'

‘Alice didn't tell you?'

‘She said she would leave it to you.'

‘He is my son. I met his mother, Maura, during an air raid in Liverpool during the war. She was drunk and I took her home. We had to take shelter in a hotel and she was crying . . . She begged me to hold her and . . .' Daniel shook his head. ‘I've never known why I did it. She was pretty enough, but I had Alice and I never intended it to happen. I've wished a thousand times it hadn't. I suppose that's why I wasn't sure what you'd done, Con. Things can just happen without your meaning it . . .'

‘With a girl who is willing and old enough, perhaps. Rape is another thing, Dan. I'm not like Clay.'

‘Clay.' Daniel looked angry. ‘Did you know he's had the cheek to go creeping round Frances? Alice said Frances had told her she'd had another letter from him asking if he could visit – and she has told him he can.'

‘Does she know that he raped Margaret? His own father's widow . . .' Con's mouth thinned in disgust. ‘I should have thought she would tell him to take a running jump.'

‘I think Emily may have told her. I know Frances wouldn't have anything to do with him for years, but perhaps she thinks it is time to forgive.'

‘I'll never forget or forgive,' Connor said. ‘Do you see anything of him?'

‘We nod if we pass in the street. Maybe Frances is lonely. We've asked her to stay and I know Emily has too, but she won't come. She wants us to go there again, but I never seem to have time.'

‘Frances and I . . . well, she wasn't exactly a loving sister when I had to live with her during the war. I know she went through a lot at that time, but I've never felt the same about her. I suppose I should visit, but I'm more comfortable with Emily.'

‘I know she was a bit hard on you, but you should consider visiting her, Connor.'

‘I've thought about going to see Emily,' Connor said. ‘Frances . . . well, we don't get on as we ought. She probably believes every word the papers say about me.'

Frances put a hand to her temple. Her head was throbbing and she felt ill. The headlines in the paper about Connor had brought the past back to her. Clay had raped Margaret. Sam had tried to rape her and then he had her shut away in a mental institution, because she wasn't fit to be the mother of his grandson. Frances thought she would have died there if Emily hadn't somehow found her and got her out.

Frances felt the despair of that time sweep over her. She glanced over her shoulder nervously. She never felt safe these days, even in her own suite at the hotel. Sometimes the dark depression that descended on her was so terrible that she was tempted to take her own life.

She was so lonely. So afraid! She wished that her family would visit her, but they all made excuses about being too busy. Emily was wrapped up in her new lover, and Daniel was always working. Alice wrote to her regularly, but letters were becoming harder to read and almost impossible to write. Her hand shook and the words got jumbled on the page so that she wasn't sure what she was saying. She didn't want to tell anyone that she was ill – she couldn't bear fuss over nothing – but she was lonely.

Clay had visited, though. Something had happened while Clay was here – something Frances regretted. She couldn't remember but she thought she might have signed something. She wasn't sure what, because her head was all over the place.

Frances knew that the kind of loneliness she felt came from within. It was a black well that would swallow her up one day. She would be sucked down into the darkness and that would be the end. Sometimes she wished that the end would come quickly, but then she was afraid. If she could be sure that it would be the end of pain – a quiet peace that would let her rest – then she would welcome death, but she sometimes saw visions of hell.

A little cry of fear left her lips. Were the demons that plucked at her flesh real or imagined? Sam had said she was mad, and perhaps she was – perhaps she would not die but live on in chains of madness . . .

No, she wasn't mad! Sam was playing tricks on her, taking his revenge from the grave. He couldn't do that, could he? Frances hadn't killed him, but she thought she knew who had. Rosalind, Sam's wife, had hinted at something. Frances hadn't told anybody. She'd been glad that he was dead – that he couldn't haunt her any more.

She looked towards the corner of the room. Sam was there. Staring at her from empty sockets where his eyes had once been. His flesh had turned to dripping sores and he raised his arm to point at her.

‘Come and join me, Fran . . .'

‘No!' Frances cowered away, covering her eyes with her hands. He wasn't really there. He was just one of the hallucinations she was having from time to time. The doctor had told her she might as her condition got worse, but it was happening so quickly. She had thought she would have more time. She must write to Emily. She wanted Emily. She was afraid she might have done something stupid. She wanted Emily to know before it was too late.

She got up and walked unsteadily towards her desk, but before she could get there her head started whirling. She gave a gasp and stretched her hands out in front of her as she fell . . .

Connor was thoughtful as he drove into Ely the next morning. He had been rehearsing what he wanted to say to Sarah, but he wasn't sure she would believe him – or that she would even see him. He had let her down. Carried away by success, he had gone along with the others and the record company. He should have fixed a date for the wedding and married the girl he loved. Sarah could have come with him on the road until they found somewhere to live. If she had, this stupid business would never have happened.

He was feeling apprehensive as he knocked at the door. Mrs Jenkins opened it and told him to come in.

‘Please wait in the sitting room, Connor,' she said in a flat, cold voice. ‘Sarah will join you in a moment. I believe she has something to tell you.'

Connor didn't much like the sound of that, though he knew he was lucky Sarah would even see him. He waited until he heard the sound of her footsteps, turning as she opened the door and entered. She looked lovely, very beautiful and young.