Pete’s face brightened a little.
‘Remember, this depends on the goodwill of your mother and sister. Would it have been so hard to be kind to them?’
Pete flushed. ‘I was in shock.’
‘You could still have been kind. Now, let’s hope the security guy can get me through to the fire door. I’ll—’ He broke off as there were voices in the reception area and Ilsa tapped on the door.
‘Gerry’s here to see you.’
‘Show him in.’
The younger man paused in the door, looking as if he hadn’t slept. ‘I’m sorry. It was me who let it out, Pete. I didn’t do it on purpose, though. I was drunk. I’ll resign. I just wanted to tell you how sorry I am.’
It was Pete who answered. ‘Come in and shut the door.’
When Gerry had done that, he said, ‘If you didn’t do it on purpose, there’s no need to resign. I treated you badly and I’m sorry for that.’
Edward smiled at him. This was the Pete he knew and liked best. Maybe now Fran was out of the picture, they could get the old Pete back. He turned to Gerry. ‘We really need you to stay here with Ilsa. I don’t want her leaving on her own. All you say to the press is “No comment now, but a statement will be made later in the day at a press conference.” That should hold them for a while.’
‘I’ll be happy to do that.’
‘I presume you know this Maggie person who wrote the article?’
‘Yes. She used to be a friend – well, more than a friend. She isn’t any longer. She was there when I got drunk, after the show.’
‘All right. I’ll be in touch.’ He squeezed Gerry’s shoulder briefly and received a grateful look in return. He went out into the office to ask the security guard’s help in getting out of the building.
The journalists were herded into a small waiting room and told that Mr Newbury would make a brief statement. Edward sent Pete in to them ostensibly to calm them down. While they were focused on his cousin, Edward used the fire stairs to get out of the building, leaving by the rear entrance.
He hoped his plan would work. It all depended on how kind Beth and her mother were prepared to be. They’d been shabbily treated, but surely they wouldn’t be vindictive?
Nineteen
Ghita walked to the shops to pick up some fresh fruit and eggs. The little boys, who loved going out for walks, were jabbering away, pointing and asking questions.
It was as she was passing the newsagent’s that she saw Pete Newbury’s name on the poster and stopped to read the headlines. Oh, no! She bought a paper and read the front page as she stood beside the pram.
Pulling out her mobile, she rang Jo, but got only the answering service. She left a message then wondered if she should ring Jo’s mother. No, surely Beth would have heard the news by now?
After she’d made her purchases, Ghita walked back along the street, not noticing anything, too upset about the scandal that had engulfed her kind hostess. Some things were private, not to be shouted from the rooftops, and this was one of them. Journalists like those had a lot to answer for.
When she arrived at the flats, she found a TV cameraman busy filming a reporter who was speaking earnestly and gesturing to the flats. She tried to walk past quickly, but another man stopped her.
‘Do you live in these flats, ma’am?’
‘Yes.’
‘Then you must know Mrs Harding.’
‘Who?’ Ghita hoped her face wasn’t betraying her. ‘I’ve not been here long and don’t know many people yet. Has something happened to this woman?’
‘Watch the midday news on TV. Thanks.’ He stepped back.
She hurried inside, breathing a sigh of relief when she’d closed the door of the flat on the world.
She settled the boys with one of their favourite children’s DVDs, giving them a biscuit and a drink of milk, then rang Beth’s office.
Sandy answered, and when Ghita explained that it was urgent she speak to Beth, the other woman said bluntly, ‘If it’s about that ghastly article in
Best of the News,
she knows.’
‘Oh. Is there anything I can do to help?’
‘Not really, thanks. If I were you, I’d stay home for the rest of the day, though, and don’t say anything to the press.’
‘I certainly won’t.’
Ghita put the phone down with a sigh. You felt so helpless at times like this.
When Beth’s personal mobile rang, it was Edward again. ‘How’s it going?’ she asked.
‘I’ve seen Pete and now I’d like to talk to you. Where are you?’
‘Still at the office. I daren’t poke my head out today.’
‘Any way you can get out of the building without being followed?’
‘Not without an army escort or in heavy disguise.’ Then an idea occurred to her. ‘Talking of disguise, perhaps there is a way.’ She began to smile. ‘I think I’m just going to change myself into a cleaner. I’ve got plenty of our uniforms here. Can you come round to the car park at the rear of the next building, Number thirty-six?’
‘Yes.’
She explained to Sandy what she wanted, and soon they had her kitted out in one of the bright orange uniforms, padded underneath with other uniforms to make her seem much plumper. With a scarf on her head and Sandy’s reading glasses, she was transformed.
‘I’d have walked past you myself.’
Beth tried to focus and found it difficult. ‘The way these glasses magnify everything, I’ll probably bump into things and give myself away.’
‘Take a bucket and— No, a portable vacuum cleaner would be best, strapped to your back. Why don’t you vacuum your way along the hall? They’ll be less suspicious if you’re not in a hurry to leave.’
‘Brilliant.’ She gave Sandy a hug, switched on the vacuum cleaner and sallied forth.
As she got outside, the reporters came over to her.
‘Do you know Beth Harding?’
‘Who?’
‘The woman who owns your company.’
‘No, dear. I’m just a casual. I deal with my supervisor not the bigwigs. I’m only here today because someone called in sick.’ She looked down the corridor in disgust. ‘Who’s been dropping sweet papers? Who do you think has to pick those up? No consideration, some folk.’
They moved away as she continued vacuuming and complaining about people’s dirty habits. She was still grumbling as she got into the service lift.
Even in the underground car park she didn’t drop her persona and continued to pick up bits of rubbish as she walked across it. At the far corner was a door to which only the lessees of suites in the building had a key. It connected to the building next door, which was under the same management. The car park there was used for overflow parking.
Only when she was through the door did she stop, lean against the other side of it and let out her tension in a long sigh.
‘You all right?’
She jumped in shock because she hadn’t heard him approach, then smiled at Edward. ‘Yes.’
He grinned. ‘Very glamorous. And haven’t you put on a bit of weight lately?’
She grimaced. ‘I’m getting overheated from all the padding.’
‘I’d still like to kiss you,’ he said suddenly.
The oxygen seemed to vanish from the air around them as they stared at one another. ‘I’d better not hug you till we’re out of their reach,’ he said regretfully. ‘Come on. I’m parked over here.’
Before they drove off, she removed her uniform and padding, then crouched down in the back of the vehicle.
‘There’s no need for that,’ he said, amused.
‘Humour me. You can’t be too careful today. I don’t want to lead them to my mother.’
‘How’s she bearing up?’
‘She sounded all right on the phone, better than I’d expected, actually, but I want to see her, to be sure.’
‘I want to see her too.’
‘You do?’
‘Yes.’ He peered into the rear-view mirror. ‘You should be all right to sit up now. We’re not being followed. In fact, I’ll pull to the side and you can get into the front.’
‘I’d rather stay here till we get to my mother’s. If we stop, someone might notice us.’
‘Whatever. Perhaps you could tell me where to go?’
‘Sorry. I wasn’t thinking. Turn right at the next traffic lights and . . .’
Pete went to see his mother in hospital quite openly. He was stopped at the entrance to the private wing, where a hospital security officer seemed to be acting as a guard and questioning everyone who wanted to enter.
As he waited his turn, Pete dredged up a smile and said to the journalists, ‘Look, my mother’s had a stroke. I need to see her before I do anything else. And guys . . . can we leave her out of things, please?’
They nodded at that, and since he knew several of them and had found them helpful in the past, he said, ‘Thanks,’ with some confidence that they would co-operate.
‘When are you going to talk to us, Pete?’ one asked. ‘Can you deny you’re refusing to see your birth mother?’
‘We’ll be making a full statement later. For now, I just want to check that this hasn’t upset the mother who brought me up.’
They started taking photos as he showed his identification to the security officer, who clearly recognised him, but still went through the ritual.
It was a relief to get the media off his back for a few moments, and Pete paused to savour the quietness of the long corridor, the lack of people nipping at his heels. Then he moved forward to the nurses’ station, smile back in place.
‘Hi. I’d like to see my mother, Mrs Newbury.’
They looked at him curiously but no one commented on the article.
‘She’s just been moved to Room Three, Mr Newbury.’
‘How is she?’
‘Making a good recovery. Don’t upset her.’
‘I’ll try not to.’
He walked in the direction the nurse had indicated and found Room Three. The door was open and he could see his mother lying in bed, staring into space. His heart sank at the sight of a newspaper spread out on the bedcovers.
‘Hi, Mum.’
She looked up and smiled. Her speech was a little hesitant but clear enough. ‘Pete, darling. I was just reading about you.’ She indicated the newspaper.
‘Edward’s helping me deal with that rubbish. You don’t need to worry about it.’ He tried to take the paper away from her, but she put one hand across it to prevent him.
‘I want to be involved in whatever you’re doing to counteract this rubbish. This was more my fault than yours, after all. I’ve been thinking how it all came about, why your father went to such lengths. I’d probably have had a nervous breakdown if I hadn’t managed to adopt a child, and that’s the sad truth. But I’d never have stolen another mother’s child like that, never.’
He sat down beside the bed since it was obvious he’d do more harm than good if he refused to discuss the matter. ‘Do you think Dad knew how they got hold of me?’
‘I think he must have known there was something fishy about the adoption, or he’d not have used the identity of the baby who died. But I can’t believe Donald would have condoned a kidnapping. Maybe he guessed afterwards when it hit the news headlines, though, because he grew very sharp-tempered for a time.’ She rubbed her forehead. ‘I was too happy to have you to notice much except you, and I just went along with what he suggested, a fresh start, he said. So we moved and were very happy, both in Australia and after we came back to England.’
‘You mustn’t make yourself ill worrying about this.’
She gave him one of her assessing looks. ‘I’d make myself ill if I tried to
avoid
thinking about it or if I was worried about you being overprotective towards me.’
‘I can’t let them hound you. You didn’t do anything wrong.’
‘A wrong was done nonetheless and I want to meet your birth mother and apologize.’
He gaped at her. ‘Mum, no!’
‘If you don’t help me do that, then I’ll do it on my own. And Pete, darling, I want
you
to apologize to her as well. You must know how much you hurt her, refusing to have anything to do with her.’
‘I still don’t want anything to do with her, only . . . I think Edward’s in love with her daughter.’
‘Your sister, you mean?’ She smiled. ‘It’s about time Edward found someone.’
‘He’s not been seeing Beth for long, but from the expression on his face when he talks about her, he’s pretty keen.’
‘I’m glad!’
‘
Her
of all women. There are plenty of others around, better looking ones, too.’
‘What have looks to do with falling in love? I’m glad for him. I was beginning to despair of him finding anyone after his divorce – given the circumstances.’
‘He’s not exactly lacked company over the years.’
‘That’s not the same thing at all. And when
you
marry again—’
He gaped at her, caught on the back foot by that one. ‘When
I
marry again! I’m not sure I’ll be doing that in a hurry. I’m not even divorced yet.’
‘Oh, you will marry again. You’re not the sort to live alone, and anyway, who’ll look after you, do your washing and cooking with Fran gone? I want you to have a proper marriage, not a pretty doll to display by your side, so this time make sure you choose someone more mature, who wants a family and who’ll make a happy home for you all. I never did take to Fran.’
‘But you were always pleasant with her. She really liked you.’
‘As if I’d alienate my only son by being nasty to his wife!’ She smiled at him. ‘Stop looking so anxious, darling. I’m recovering nicely, and if my left side’s a little weak, well, I can still manage to do most things. I have to take more exercise than just gardening from now on, though, and they’ll keep an eye on my blood, use thinners and things like that. Believe me, I don’t intend to die till you’ve given me some grandchildren.’
He was relieved to see her old self re-emerging to deal with this crisis. She’d been so quiet and sad since his father’s death. He took hold of her hand and raised it to his lips. ‘You’d better choose someone for me next time, then.’