Chapter 20

We sat in the living room on that Saturday evening after the inevitable walk in the sunny afternoon, the purpose of which in my mind was to build a relationship between Jenny and Greta. I have to say it was very successful; they were close buddies by the time we got home. I began to feel outnumbered once more and I was grateful for that.

I had decided it was time to clarify what Greta might be suspecting. Then the phone rang and it was Colin.

"Allan," he said, "Can I rely on your complete silence on what I'm going to say? I mean complete, I'll lose my job and my pension if this gets out."

"Yes. Absolutely," I said. "You know when the balloon goes up, don't you?"

"I didn't tell you this, understand?"

"Yes Colin."

"Monday morning at five thirty a.m."

"On a Bank Holiday? I thought weekends were out?"

"All the better for the element of surprise. They're more likely to be at home."

"OK. Is that everyone?"

"Yes, everyone, all at the same time; then to different stations. CPS has given the go ahead, so it'll be going to trial."

"Thanks Colin."

He disconnected.

I knew that I must not warn Ann, Greta or the boys, but that Greta needed to be at home overnight on Sunday with her mother. The police might break in and run shouting through the house, rather than knocking politely and waiting for an answer. I decided to ask Greta what things were like at home.

"Greta," I said, breaking the silence between us as we watched some vacuous programme on the TV set, "How have things been since Mum and I met?"

She did not need any further prompting.

"Well, as soon as she got home she told Derek she had met you Dad, and that you had been in a terrible accident. She told him what you told her. Then came her decision that the wedding was off.

"That started the arguments. Mum was saying that if she'd known what had happened to you, she would never have had Derek in the house, let alone in her bed. Derek was going on about you being in the past, and she was committed to him. The row went on and on. I went to bed. The lads were already in bed, though Jan was playing his music.

"Mum was up early Friday morning, and I was having breakfast when Uncle Peter arrived. Mum and he discussed what you had told her, and he said he was going to find out why you'd done it just before the wedding, so I told him I'd go along.

"When we got back to the family, Derek had gone out and Mum was moving her stuff into the second master bedroom. So it looks as if their love life is over. I asked her why, and she said she couldn't be with Derek knowing that you were around. As far as she is concerned she still feels married to you Dad. She kept saying that the divorce was all a big mistake.

"Then Peter told her what you'd told us. He relayed it as you told it, and why you'd told her so near the wedding, you know, about the police and that Mum wouldn't talk to you. She said she was glad, she would have felt terrible if she'd married Derek and then found out how wrong she'd been.

"He mentioned the letter she got, and how it was impossible for you to have written it. Did you know he took that piece of paper with your signature on it? Well, he showed it her to prove it wasn't your signature. She got very thoughtful after that.

"Then Peter left and Mum finished moving out of Derek's room. I don't think she allowed him anything the night before, so I don't know why he stayed in bed so long on Friday morning, unless he was having a wank."

At this Jenny snorted with laughter and looked instantly apologetic.

"Greta!" I looked shocked just long enough for her to begin to blush, then I corpsed and she sighed with relief and laughed herself.

"Sorry Dad, but I am a big girl now, I do know about boys!"

Her smile was going to conquer a great many boy's hearts or inflame their lust. It broke forth again as she laughed.

"What were you going to say Dad?"

"So how do you 'know about boys'? Personal experience? Experimentation?"

She put up both hands defensively to ward off the inquiry and I smiled in surrender, I wasn't going to pursue it. One's daughters are always too young to be getting interested in boys. Jenny's smile was the broadest I had ever seen on her!

"So," I said. "What happened when Derek got home?"

"Oh there was a terrible row. That's why I packed and left. He wanted to know why she was rejecting him. What had he done? Well, Mum said he should know what he'd done and it wasn't for her to tell him.

"She told him she'd moved out of the bedroom. That part of their relationship was over. While I was packing I could hear the voices raised. He was going on about how you'd ruined their wonderful relationship, and how could she want a wreck of a man, sorry Dad that's what he said, when she had a man like him. I had to laugh. He's so boring! She told him you were worth ten of him so he said if that was how she felt, how come she'd had such a wonderful time in bed with him.

"She told him remember the children might be listening, which we were! We couldn't hear what she said then but he shouted that wasn't true, she was well satisfied. Then there was a silence, followed by muttering. They were in the living room so I left the note in the kitchen and left."

I had a sinking feeling I would need to think hard about all that, but there were more important things to think about than how I felt about it all, and how it would affect Jenny, who had been listening intently.

I needed to get Greta back home to support her mother when the shit hit the fan on Monday. That meant she'd have to know everything – apart from the actual raid. A tightrope walk!

"Well, Greta," I sighed, "what a mess."

She said nothing. There was a silence. Both females were waiting for my response and that comment was clearly not enough.

"Greta," I continued. "Stay tonight but I want you to go back tomorrow."

I saw she was about to plead to stay, so I pressed on.

"Listen. I need to tell you a lot more and when I've finished you'll see why I'm asking you to do that. Once again I must ask you in advance not to tell your mother or the lads, and certainly not Derek, any of this. There are still things I can't tell you; I gave my word to Colin and his job depends on me keeping that promise. Can you promise me you'll keep what I can tell you to yourself?"

"Yes, Dad," she said with a resigned air, "yes, I promise."

I ignored her tone.

"You remember I told Peter about a man in the photos?"

"Yes," she said impatiently.

"Well, his name is O'Malley and he told us that he was paid three thousand pounds to follow me, and then tell some men who I was. One of the photos Trish showed Mum was of O'Malley and me leaving the station together.

"O'Malley said he told me my client, the one I had been getting a contract from, needed to see me and he put me into a car. A Red Toyota. Four hours later three men in a Red Toyota dumped my body on a building site in Newcastle.

"Mum was given four photos of me with my cousin, but not the ones showing me with my cousin and her husband nor the one of O'Malley and I leaving the station.

"The Red Toyota was owned and driven by one of Derek's workmen. The other two were also men Derek employed. The three men taunted O'Malley that they'd got ten thousand pounds each 'for the job'. Someone told O'Malley I was on that trip and planned my murder."

I did not need to say more. Greta looked frightened. At length she spoke, her voice husky.

"Daddy, I'm afraid. You're saying Derek tried to kill you."

"No, darling. I don't know what part he played. I don't think you or the lads are in any danger from Derek. If he is behind it at all, which I don't know, I'm not sure if he wanted me dead to get Mum, or my money. From what you say, though, he really does love Mum in his own way."

"Love? Love?" she shouted. "He knows nothing about love. He just wants her. I hate him!"

Her vehemence frightened me. I began to wonder if she could carry off a show of ignorance after what I told her.

"Greta," I said quietly, "it is essential you don't say or show what you know. Early on Monday morning you'll know why. I want you to be there for your mother on Monday morning."

"What's happening on Monday, Dad?" she asked, begging me with her eyes, desperate to know.

"I need you to trust me on this," I answered seriously. "It's better you don't know. As I said, I gave Colin my word; he told me something he really shouldn't have. I promise you there's no danger."

"It's to do with the police then." it was a statement. She smiled knowingly and I thought she had realised what would be happening. I kept a bland face.

"One more thing," I said. "If you have any problems on Monday, phone me. I'll help in any way I can."

"OK," she said, "I'll keep the secret Dad."

Then I knew she would.

"Good. I'll be at home. Call me if you or Mum need me."

I got up and set to preparing Greta's bed in her old room.

"Time for bed," I said, returning to the living room. Jenny was in the kitchen washing up and getting things ready for the morning. Greta smiled a knowing smile in her direction but said nothing. Perhaps just as well.

Getting no reaction from me, she nodded and went upstairs. I heard the bathroom door shut. I gave Jenny a hand and then we followed.

We used the en suite and undressed, though I left my boxers on. Jenny, naked in the bed, gave an inquisitive look.

"I've remembered I always used to tuck her in," I said, feeling rather foolish.

"That's lovely," Jenny smiled.

I waited, sitting on the bed, until I heard Greta leave the house bathroom and go to the bedroom. Stripped to the waist, I knocked on her door and she shouted to come in. When I entered the bedroom. She was sitting up in bed pulling the duvet up in front of her to hide her breasts.

"Fucking Hell!" she exclaimed looking at my torso and legs.

"Greta," I scolded, "I don't know where you picked up that language!"

She smiled, "Come on Dad, you've heard worse and so have I. I'm a big girl now. But your poor body!"

"Not a pretty sight, am I?" I quipped with a smile "Plates here, screws and pins there, and I bet you'll never see a bigger collection of scars."

She began to cry. It took me by surprise.

I sat on the edge of her bed and stroked her face.

"Don't cry darling. None of it hurts that much any more, just a few aches every now and again."

"It's not that," she sobbed. "I remember how handsome you were; you had such a cool body."

"It's still the same me inside, Chicken."

"I know, but it's horrible what's happened to you. That man!" and her tone was vicious.

"Better than being dead sweetheart, and I very nearly was. Stay cool."

"Mum should see what those men, what Derek, did to you. Don't you want revenge?"

"I'm angry at what he did, if he did it," I said reflectively. "I'm angry that Mum didn't look for me for longer. I'm angry that he wormed his way into your lives."

Jenny appeared at the door in a very short bathrobe. She looked gorgeous.

"Look in the doorway Greta," I added, "I've got the love of two lovely, wonderful women, and I mean love. I've got marvellous friends, three of whom have worked incredibly hard to find evidence of who did this to me. I've discovered a cousin and a whole family in Sweden, which I'll tell you about another time.

"I'm back in my job and, thanks largely to Jenny, I'm doing really well. I really appreciate simple things and the abilities I've had to learn again. I've got freedom, and the love of my children."

I pushed her hair out of her eyes, "So no I don't want revenge, what good would it do?"

Greta whispered, almost to herself, "And I know Mum loves you too."

I didn't notice her comment; Jenny told me later.

I was letting the ideas sink in a little, and thinking things through before adding, "What I do want darling – I want justice. They did wrong and should be punished. They need to learn that they have done an evil thing."

Greta nodded. Jenny came and sat on the bed, taking my arm.

"You see Greta," she said, "with your Dad the glass is always half full. Even at your age you'll know the song 'Yellow Taxi': 'You don't know what you've got till it's gone.' Your Dad appreciates what he's got, because he nearly lost it all."

Greta hugged me.

"Good night sweetheart, God Bless," I said.

"You always used to say that," whispered Greta, as I kissed her forehead and Jenny hugged her.

Then we left.

"Keep the noise down folks," Greta called as we were shutting the door.

I stopped, but Jenny giggled and pulled me away and back to our bed. We tried to keep the noise down.

We failed.

Sunday morning was normal. I told Jenny what was to happen on the Monday morning. Greta slept in and when she appeared we went out for lunch before taking her home. We stopped at the gate of Derek's house and Greta got out. As she extracted her bags from the back seats, Ann came down the drive. She approached my window and I wound it down.

She saw Jenny, and a puzzled expression crossed her face, and another emotion I could not read.

"Thanks Allan for bringing her back."

"No worries," I replied. "I thought you might feel better with her in the house with you."

"It's good of you," she shot another glance at Jenny who smiled at her.

She was about to say something else, but changed her mind. I wondered if it was Jenny's presence that inhibited her.

"Well," she said at length. "Thanks again."

She turned and left, picking up one of Greta's bags as she did so.

"Bye Dad," said Greta, putting her head through the open window to kiss me.

"Bye. Remember – phone if you need me for anything tomorrow."

She nodded and taking her other case, followed her mother.

We drove back to the house in silence. I got the impression Jenny, like Ann, wanted to say something, but she didn't.