but that would have been spiteful, and not like Jack.
Sure enough, they cleared easily, and I drew out the money in cash to put it in my normal account. Things were fine for a bit. I couldn’t get a decent job, because leaving Grandad alone for long was too chancy, but I did some part-time work. It didn’t pay well. As the money ran out I began to sell my new clothes.
In the end the only thing I had left to sell was Charlie. I put it off as long as possible, but there was no choice.
He was my last link with Jack, but I didn’t cry. I was beyond that. And besides, I had to keep up a brave face for Grandad.
I thought I’d fooled him, but of course I hadn’t. One day he went out alone, came home, and told me he’d got a job as a waiter.
‘But you know nothing about being a waiter,’ I said, stunned.
‘Yes, I do. My cellmate used to be head waiter at—’ He named a top London hotel. ‘He served royalty. He told me all about it.’
He did well at first. He was a good mimic and picked up enough to get by. I thought perhaps our troubles were almost over.
But they were just beginning.
Chapter Ten
Della’s Story
OF COURSE I did everything wrong, and when I landed in jail I knew that only a miracle would rescue me.
How strange that the miracle should be Grace, making one last attempt to turn Jack against me and giving him the key to finding me.
When I heard that ‘Mr Smith’ had come visiting I thought it was one of my cousins, being cautious. And then I walked in and saw Jack.
I made a mess of it again. I should have been overjoyed, thrown my arms around his neck, cried, Jack, darling, at last!
Instead, I was filled with the most terrible fear and misery. Perhaps I’d forgotten how to feel anything else. Anyway, I fled, and they had to stop him coming after me.
From the corridor outside I could hear him begging them to bring me back. I leaned against the wall, shaking, feeling my heart pound. Even my teeth were chattering.
A warder came back and told me briskly that I was mad.
‘If I had a feller who looked like that you wouldn’t catch me running away,’ she said. ‘Go on with you.’
So I went and sat down and, charming to the end, said, ‘You shouldn’t have come.’
Fear and misery had given way to rage. After I’d tried so hard to protect him he’d swept all my efforts aside and walked into the lions’ den. Had he no sense?
I think I said something like that—something bad-tempered, anyway. He ought to have walked out, but he didn’t. I remembered then how stubborn he was when he’d decided on something.
He looked different—thinner, older—and he’d lost that look of always having a smile about to burst out. He smiled sometimes, but it was forced, and faded quickly. Then his manner became curt and no-nonsense. He even snapped at me. I snapped back, and we were soon squabbling.
I told him about my life in the months since we’d parted, but all the time I was wondering about his life, whether I was responsible for his withered look, as though something were gnawing him from inside.
If I could have done as I wanted I’d have put my arms about him, promised never to go away again. But I couldn’t. A block of ice seemed to be pressing on my chest, trapping the feelings inside. So I went on being grumpy and he went on giving his orders.
He’d fired my lawyer, he was hiring another, he wanted my address. I had to be sensible, leave it to him, just keep quiet and don’t argue. Bully Jack was there with a vengeance.
I did what he wanted, then we rowed some more, and he left.
I didn’t know what to think. At the back of my mind I knew things had taken a turn for the better, but I couldn’t feel it. I didn’t know this new version of Jack, or how to react to him.
My new lawyer was called Thomas Wendell. He came to see me that same afternoon, and the very next day I was back in court, pleading not guilty.
‘But how can I?’ I demanded. ‘After they caught me red-handed.’
‘Miss Martin, my instructions are that you were not caught red-handed, but merely the victim of a misunderstanding which will soon be sorted out.’
‘Your instructions? From Mr Bullen, I suppose? What else did he say?’
‘To get you out of here at all costs. Now, please speak as little as possible, and leave everything to me.’
Inside the court he put in my plea and asked for bail, but the magistrate was reluctant. He spoke of my lack of co-operation and suggested that I was liable to abscond.
In the end bail was set at thirty thousand pounds. An outrageous figure. Without batting an eyelid Mr Wendell agreed.
That told me all I needed to know. But it might have been worse. At least Jack hadn’t actually turned up in court.
‘What do I do now?’ I asked as we left.
‘You see that car over there, with the blacked-out windows? Just get in the back. Goodbye.’
‘Hey, wait a—’
But he was already walking away, leaving me no choice but to go to the car.
Jack was there in the back, his face harsh with tension. He drew me inside, tapped the dividing screen, and an unseen chauffeur started up.
As we moved off Jack threw himself back into the far corner and just sat looking at me. The light was poor, and I couldn’t see his face well, but I think it bore the saddest look I’d ever seen.
‘Are you all right?’ he asked.
‘I’m better now. I’ll be all right when I’ve seen Grandad.’
‘I’m taking you to him. One moment.’ His mobile phone had rung and he answered it curtly. ‘Yes? I know, but I can’t help it—you’ll just have to handle the meeting yourself. You can do it, Peter. I trust you.’
When he’d finished I took a deep breath and started on the speech I knew I had to make.
‘I’m sorry about the way I spoke to you when you came to see me. I’m really grateful for—’
‘Shut up!’
His voice seemed to reach me across a vast distance.
‘Don’t thank me. Whatever you do, don’t thank me.’
‘I don’t understand.’
‘I can believe that,’ he said, almost savagely.
Silence.
