Threat From The Past

She left the note where her uncle couldn’t fail to see it when he came in here to relax for a while before changing for his celebratory dinner, then made her way back to her own room.

Stifling a yawn, she slid beneath the comforting warmth of the duvet and curled herself into a ball. She wouldn’t sleep. Merely relax and recoup her energies after the last frantically busy two weeks, the flight home and the subsequent drive back here to the Sussex-Hampshire border.

Her mind drifting, she heard again that brief conversational exchange with Adam Tudor and her mouth curved in an unconscious smile. It would almost be a pity to meet the man—his physical appearance couldn’t possibly match that fantastically attractive voice! Seeing him in the flesh was bound to be a huge let-down. And, come to think of it, his name seemed strangely familiar. As if she had heard it before... Some time... Somewhere...

* * *

‘Selina. Wake up, Selina.’ Meg’s voice penetrated dimly into her consciousness and, as a gentle hand shook her shoulder, Selina opened one eye and then the other, fixing first on the housekeeper’s gaunt features and then on the bedside clock which told her it was seven already.

‘Oh, hell!’ she muttered blearily. ‘I didn’t mean to sleep.’ Struggling up against the pillows, she propped herself on her elbows and Meg said, her voice sounding strained,

‘You were tired out. Anyone could see that. Even Dominic said not to wake you.’

‘Dominic? What’s he got to do with anything?’ When had her cousin ever shown any concern for her well-being? If she dropped dead from exhaustion he wouldn’t blink an eyelid.

Snapping wide awake now, the knowledge that something was horribly wrong hit her like a blow to the chest, and her voice was thick as she demanded, ‘What’s happened? Tell me, Meg!’

Her worst fears, the fears that had been wriggling namelessly at the back of her mind for days, now suddenly took on the hatefulness of reality as the housekeeper sat heavily on the side of the bed and, passing a hand tiredly over her eyes, said, ‘It’s your uncle.’ Then, glancing sideways to meet the shock-darkened golden eyes, huge now in a face that was suddenly drained of all colour, she added quickly, ‘But he’ll be all right. Dr Hill said it was a very mild attack, nothing to worry about in itself—but a warning.’

‘But how? When?’ Selina demanded sharply, out of bed now, pulling fresh underwear from a drawer, jeans in fine needlecord, a lighter shade of cinnamon than the cashmere V-necked sweater, dressing hurriedly in the first things to come to hand. ‘Where is he now?’

‘Hospital. Private room,’ Meg told her, frowning, getting to her feet and taking a firm, no-nonsense grip on Selina’s shoulders, forcing her down on to the carved blanket chest at the foot of the elegant half-tester bed.

Halfway into her sweater and caught off-balance, Selina sat heavily, wrestled the garment into place and caught Meg’s compassionate eyes.

‘Panicking won’t help your uncle. Catch your breath while I explain what happened.’

Closing her eyes just briefly, Selina recognised the wisdom in what Meg said. Her heart was beating like a drum, her breathing too rapid, too shallow. Taking a long, deep breath she opened her eyes again and instructed quietly, ‘So tell me.’

‘They’d just got back from the garden centre, about a quarter to six, when Dr Hill arrived with a birthday gift for your uncle. A bottle of his favourite port, it was.’ Meg sat beside Selina, taking one of the slim, long-fingered hands between her bony ones. ‘They were joking about the doctor choosing to bring port so that he could share it while they were playing chess next week. So your uncle invited him up to his sitting-room to join him in a glass of sherry, and the four of them went up—Dominic had come out of the study when he heard them all talking—and, apparently, that was when your uncle collapsed.’

‘Thank God Bob Hill was there,’ Selina said thickly and Meg nodded quickly, assuring her,

‘He was able to do what was necessary and he and Dominic between them got him into his car. Your aunt went with them to the hospital and Dominic followed in his own car. He phoned just before I woke you to say your uncle was stable, that it had been a minor attack. But he’s going to have to stay in for a few days—for recuperation and tests.’

‘Why wasn’t I told? Someone should have woken me,’ Selina accused. She was emerging from the initial shock now and couldn’t believe that she had been left to sleep, oblivious to all that had been going on.

‘I did suggest alerting you,’ Meg told her. ‘But Dominic said not to worry you. You’d had a gruelling trip and were probably asleep and, in any case, there was nothing useful you could do.’

Except be with him, offer her support to Vanessa who must have been out of her mind with anxiety, Selina thought with silent bitterness, knowing that the truth of the matter hinged on the fact of Dominic’s unalterable resentment of her presence in their lives at all. But Meg was saying, ‘It all happened so quickly and when they’d all gone there didn’t seem any point in worrying you before I got hard news from the hospital.’

‘I’m going there now,’ Selina stated, crossing the room to retrieve her boots from the bottom of the cupboard where she’d stowed them earlier. She had to see Martin and Vanessa for herself, get the reassurance she needed that her uncle’s attack had, in truth, been minor, let Vanessa know that she, Selina, was ready to offer all the emotional support she needed.

The boots pulled on, she dragged her trench coat from its hanger and reached for her shoulder-bag and was halfway to the door when Dominic walked through, the courtesy of a knock seeming not to have occurred to him.

‘How is he now?’ Selina and Meg both spoke together and Dominic directed his reply to the housekeeper, his slanting eyes refusing to meet Selina’s anxious gaze.

‘His condition’s stable, as I told you when I phoned, and his consultant will be with him now. He’s even grumbling about missing his birthday celebrations.’ He gave Meg a thin smile. ‘Mother’s decided to stay overnight—not that it’s necessary, but she insists. Would you pack a bag? You’ll know the sort of thing she’ll need.’

‘Of course.’ Meg hurried out without a backward glance and Selina stated,

‘I’ll take it when I drive over. There’s no need for you to make the journey again tonight.’

‘How awfully considerate,’ Dominic drawled, his grey eyes cold. ‘After all, the hospital’s all of twelve miles away,’ he added sarcastically, moving to stand in front of her as she made for the door. ‘I think everyone would prefer it if you stayed here.’

‘Is that so,’ Selina snapped back, her chin up, already searching in her bag for her car keys. It would give Dominic immense satisfaction to allow his parents to think that she hadn’t bothered to stir herself to visit her uncle.

He was very immature in a lot of ways. He wanted his parents to himself, he needed to believe that he was the centre of this particular universe and hated the idea that Selina might take anything away from him. He deeply resented the bond his cousin shared with his father and wasn’t adult enough to understand that the affection between them took nothing away from himself.

He had his back to the door now, his narrow face vindictive as he barred her exit, his tone spiteful as he parried, ‘Yes, that is so! You’ve already caused too much trouble. One look at you would remind him of what caused the attack in the first place, and heaven only knows what could happen then.’

‘Trouble?’ She picked out the damning word, the hot colour of annoyance draining from her skin, leaving it ashen, her eyes puzzled. ‘What the hell are you saying? What am I supposed to have done?’

Years ago, when they’d been growing up together, Dominic had always tried to pin the blame on his cousin for any childish misdemeanour. It had made his day if he’d been able to put her in the wrong in the eyes of his parents or friends. She had learned not to care, to simply shrug the accusations aside, knowing his lies were rarely, if ever believed.

And now he seemed to be reverting to type, but this was very different. This wasn’t an annoying trifle—a broken ornament or window-pane, a few coins missing from his mother’s purse. This was serious. She would never willingly cause trouble for the people who had taken her in and given her every care.

‘What have I done?’ she repeated harshly, and he answered petulantly,

‘That note you left him. Within moments of reading it he collapsed.’

‘Oh—come on!’ Selina almost sagged with relief. She’d been racking her brains to try to discover what on earth she could have done to upset Martin so badly. ‘It was an innocuous phone message, I merely passed it on. If you’d picked up the phone first, you’d have done the same. It had to be a coincidence.’

‘Like hell it was!’ he sneered, glaring at her down the length of his nose. ‘If I’d spoken to Tudor first I’d have threatened him with the law before I let him anywhere near my family. And I wouldn’t have let Father know he’d had the nerve to phone. You don’t tell a sick man that his enemy is about to knock on his front door!’

‘Enemy?’ She was aware that she was repeating almost everything he said, but could do nothing about it. Dom wasn’t making any sense. Martin didn’t have an enemy in the world, surely? She’d never heard of Adam Tudor before this evening... Or had she? She shook her head to clear it, her strong brows clenched perplexedly, and her cousin told her,

‘Exactly. The man’s a creep. Always on the look-out for hand-outs. He’d do my father down as soon as look at him—ask Mother, if you don’t believe me.’

Selina bit down on her lower lip. She did believe him. His words had the unmistakable ring of veracity. And she said miserably, ‘I didn’t know. If Martin has an enemy I should have been warned. How could I have known if I was never told?’

‘Sure.’ Dominic levered himself away from the door, obviously thinking better of the accusatory stance he had taken and, in an unprecedented gesture of solidarity, draped an arm around her shoulders. ‘I shouldn’t have blamed you, but I was upset. Adam Tudor’s existence isn’t something we talk about. So—’ he took the car keys from her unresisting fingers and pushed them back into her bag ‘—in the circumstances, it would be best if you stayed here, wouldn’t it? Give Father the chance to get over the shock of that message before you visit, hmm? Tomorrow should be OK. And when Tudor does show up you can give him a piece of your mind. You can be pretty formidable when roused! But if you’re going to have to do that you’ll need a few facts—needless to say, you must promise they won’t go any further.’ He gave her a tired smile, gave her shoulder a final squeeze. ‘As I said, the man’s an importuning creep, and if he could see Father—all of us—in the bankruptcy courts he’d do it. Not that he’ll get that opportunity, of course, I’ll see to that.’

‘But why?’ Selina’s golden eyes mirrored her perplexion. How could someone as straightforward and gentle as Martin have made such an enemy?

And Dominic’s mouth twisted down in a vicious sneer as he told her, ‘Because he’s a bastard. My father’s bastard, to be precise.’

* * *

It was almost nine. Outside the wind was rising, buffeting the house, roaring through the bare branches of the trees. It was going to be a wild night.

And the wildness within Selina’s loyal heart rose to meet it, only to be subdued by an icy determination to treat Adam Tudor with the disdainful contempt he deserved.

After Dominic had left with the things Vanessa needed she had phoned the hospital and spoken to her aunt, apologising for not being around when she’d been needed, asking after Martin, promising to visit tomorrow.

‘It happened so quickly, there was nothing you could have done,’ Vanessa assured her. ‘Your uncle knows that, and he’ll look forward to seeing you tomorrow.’

‘Dominic explained,’ Selina said quickly on a fresh wave of a guilt which, even though she knew it to be misplaced, she couldn’t entirely get rid of. ‘I’m so sorry. I would never have passed that message on if I’d known the details—who the man really is.’