Chapter Twenty-Seven
Caro had painted her
nails a pale, neutral pink. It was only a small thing, but April
almost started crying again.
‘Oh, honey, that’s so
sweet,’ said April with emotion. She had never seen Caro with
anything except black nails; it was almost part of her personality,
a statement of intent to the rest of the world. But today she had
changed it for April and for her dad.
Caro flushed a little
and shrugged. ‘Well, I just thought it was appropriate,
respectful.’ She lowered her voice. ‘And I didn’t want any of these
weird people thinking I was taking the mickey.’
The ‘weird people’
were April’s relatives. As William Dunne had no family to speak of,
the mourners were mostly from her mother’s side, so it was no
surprise that like Silvia and Grandpa Thomas, they were tall and
athletic. April had always assumed Gramps had been referring to
character when he said Hamilton - or should that be Vladescu? -
women were ‘strong’, but she could now see he was referring to
their stature, too. Beautiful as well, which somehow gave April
hope. Her mother had cheese-wire cheekbones, but April was still
waiting in vain for hers to pop out. Maybe
there is still time, she thought, casting a longing glance
over at the Constances, Mariellas and Georginas sipping politely at
their wine. Maybe I’ll get their legs
too. She wasn’t particularly keen on inheriting their
personalities, though. They were all polite of course, muttering
that they were ‘sorry for her loss’ and that ‘William was a good
man’, but overall, they were posh and aloof, observing the room
with superior stares. Perhaps they were silently questioning
Silvia’s decision to hold a wake for her husband in the room next
to the one where he had been killed. April certainly
had.
‘It wouldn’t hurt
them to smile, would it?’ said Fiona under her breath. ‘I mean, you
don’t expect stand-up comedy at a wake, but it is supposed to be a
celebration of someone’s life, isn’t it?’
‘I think they’re
worried they’ll crack their make-up,’ said Caro.
April was glad that
Fee and Caro where getting on so well, as if they had known each
other for years. Her life had been turned completely upside down in
the last few weeks and it was nice to know that she had friends to
lean on when it all went completely pear-shaped. Like my bum, thought April, and managed a
giggle.
‘What are you all
sniggering about?’ said a voice.
April turned to see
another tall man about her dad’s age. This one she recognised
vaguely, possibly from photos at her grandpa’s house. He had the
standard-issue Hamilton frame; he looked like a gangster in his
tight black suit, his neck bulging over his collar, but he had less
of the frosty beauty with his broken nose and hooded eyes. Plus
there was an amused arch to his eyebrow that April liked
immediately.
‘I’m Uncle Luke,’ he
said, holding out a hand. ‘I’m sure April doesn’t remember me, but
I recognise her. I can see a lot of your mother in
you.’
‘Not too much, I
hope.’
Luke laughed. ‘Yes,
she has many great qualities, your mother, but she does have a
temper. Still, however much she drives you mad, imagine what it was
like to grow up as her baby brother.’
‘Did she torture
you?’ asked Caro eagerly.
‘Not exactly.’ Luke
smiled. ‘But I do have a few scars.’ He pushed up his sleeve and
showed the girls a white curved mark on his wrist.
‘Did you try and
commit suicide?’ gasped Fiona.
‘God, Fee!’ cried
April, looking at her uncle with embarrassment. ‘I’m so sorry,
she’s not usually like this.’
Luke only laughed.
‘It’s quite all right - I can see why you might think that,’ he
joked. ‘No, it’s a bite-mark. I wouldn’t let her have a go on my
pogo stick so she sank her teeth into my arm. I let go of it quick
enough then.’ He chuckled ruefully.
They all looked at
Silvia in silent awe. She was sitting on the other side of the room
nursing what looked like a tumbler of vodka and talking to a
grey-haired man April recognised as one of her dad’s old newspaper
friends.
‘So is that why you
haven’t seen April for so long?’ asked Caro.
April shot a look at
her and Caro made an innocent face, mouthing the word,
‘What?’
‘It’s okay.’ Luke
smiled. ‘There’s no excuse, really. I’ve been working abroad for
the past ten years, so I haven’t been over here enough. I’m back
now though, and living in London, so I’ll definitely be seeing more
of you both. Anyway, I always knew your dad would look after you -
and your mum sent me pictures and letters about you growing
up.’
‘Really?’ said April,
looking at her mother again, who was now blowing her nose on a lace
hanky. It was a surprise; partly because Silvia had never seemed
the sentimental type, certainly not the kind of woman who would
swap baby photos. And also, now she thought about it, April
couldn’t remember many family photos being taken as she was growing
up. She wasn’t entirely sure whether either of her parents even
owned a camera.
‘Uncle Luke,’ said
April, ‘are you a Vladescu or a Hamilton?’
Luke smiled. ‘We’ve
always been Hamiltons,’ he said. ‘Your granddad changed the name
before your mum and I were born. I imagine it was strange seeing
the old name above the door of the tomb, eh?’
April nodded. ‘A
little. Feels a bit weird that my dad should be in there with a
load of strangers.’
‘Oh, I shouldn’t
worry about that,’ said Luke, that amused eyebrow arch back again.
‘Listen, I’d better go and check on your mum. I’ll see you later,
okay?’
‘He seems nice,’ said
Fiona as Luke disappeared.
‘Yes, I wish I had
uncles like that,’ said Caro. ‘All mine are either villains or
coppers.’
‘I didn’t know that,’
said April.
Caro winked. ‘Got to
maintain my mystique, haven’t I? Anyway, it’s not like I’m going to
boast about it. If this was my dad’s wake, they’d all be drunk and
fighting by now.’
‘Speaking of which …’
said Fiona, nodding towards April’s mother. She seemed to be
struggling to get to her feet while Thomas hooked an arm under
hers.
‘Leave me alone!’ she
snapped, slapping his arm away. ‘I don’t need your help, I can walk
on my own, God knows I’ve had to for the last twenty
years.’
‘Excuse me,’ said
April, following her mother into the kitchen where she found her
splashing more vodka into her glass.
‘Mum, haven’t you had
enough? You’re embarrassing us.’
‘No, I do not think
I’ve had enough,’ said Silvia, defiantly taking a swig. ‘I will
never have had enough. Not ever. And if you think that’s
embarrassing, well, you can get out too.’ She gestured unsteadily
towards the living room.
‘What do you mean,
“me too”?’
‘Your father,’ said
Silvia, slurring her words. ‘He’s gone off and left us again,
hasn’t he?’
‘Again? What are you
on about?’
‘Ha! You always were
such a little daddy’s girl,’ said her mother scathingly. ‘He could
do no wrong in your eyes, could he? But then how could he when his
whole existence was built around protecting his little precious
girl?’
April was feeling
uncomfortable now, as if she had stumbled into a conversation she
shouldn’t have overheard.
‘Protecting me? What
from?’
Silvia threw her head
back and cackled with laughter and swung her hand in a wide
gesture, spilling some of her drink. ‘From all of them, of course,’
she said.
‘Silvia!’ said Thomas
forcefully, striding over to April’s mother and snatching the glass
from her hand. ‘This is not the time or the place.’
‘Oh no? Well, when
will be? When is the right time to tell her who her father really
was? Surely now he’s dead? Weren’t you the one who was dying to
tell her a couple of weeks ago?’
‘I’m warning you,’
growled Thomas in a low voice dripping with menace. April could see
that he was gripping the glass so hard his fingers were
white.
‘Gramps, no,’ said
April, running across and trying to pull him back. It was like
tugging on a tree. ‘She’s just drunk and upset,’ she said, a
pleading edge to her voice. ‘She doesn’t know what she’s
saying.’
Thomas glared at her
and for a second April saw the fury in his eyes, a burning, raging
fire, then suddenly his face softened and he put the glass down.
‘Yes, of course. It’s been a tough day for all of us.’
‘Tough for you?’
Silvia snarled. ‘I should think you’d be popping the
champagne.’
‘Mum, please,’ said
April, her voice wobbling. ‘Can’t we all get along today? I’m sick
of all this fighting. Please, it’s destroying me. I’ve just buried
my father, I don’t want either of you …’ Her voice cracked. ‘Don’t
leave me,’ she sobbed, looking up at them with glistening eyes.
‘Please tell me you won’t go too.’
Thomas and Silvia
exchanged a look. It was fleeting, less than a second, but once
again April had the feeling that she had just seen something she
shouldn’t have.
‘We’re not going
anywhere,’ said Thomas, reaching out to hug April. ‘You can count
on that.’
At least Davina was
enjoying herself. When April returned to the living room, she found
the queen of the Faces flirting with all of the Hamilton men. She
was wearing a short-short black satin dress with stockings and
six-inch heels. Jesus, thought April,
does she think it’s a wake or a party?
Clearly April’s cousins and uncles weren’t as dour as she had first
thought, since Davina was leaning against one of them and laughing
with a wicked expression.
‘Oh hi, darling,’
said Davina, seeing April walk in. She instantly changed her
expression to one of sincerity, head tilted to one side. ‘How are
you? I’m so sorry about your dad.’ She air-kissed April and
whispered in her ear, ‘Who is that gorgeous man behind
me?’
‘I think he’s one of
my cousins. I don’t know really, we don’t mix much.’
April realised that
she hadn’t really stopped to consider why. Her mother had always
told her stories about how she had been forced to spend
interminable holidays with endless elderly relatives as a girl and
had sworn she would never make her child go through the same thing.
April had assumed there was something more to it, especially given
the spiky relationship both her parents had always had with Grandpa
Thomas, but she had never asked about it. To her, it was just one
of those things; some people at school had loads of cousins and
half-brothers and some people didn’t. As she had got older, of
course, April had supposed that the Dunnes’ lack of big family
get-togethers was down to some sort of family feud her parents
didn’t want to tell her about. Given her conversation with her
mother and grandfather in the kitchen, that was probably a pretty
good guess.
‘But what about
Jonathon?’ asked April.
Davina frowned for a
moment, as if she was trying to recall the face of a distant
acquaintance. ‘Oh, him, he’s gone,’ she said vaguely, looking over
April’s shoulder. ‘Now who is this? I love your hat!’
By the time April had
turned around, Davina was fingering the lace veil on Fiona’s
hat.
‘Erm, Davina, this is
my friend Fiona from Edinburgh.’
‘Delighted,’ said
Davina, leading a bemused Fee off to a corner for a fashion
conflab. ‘Now you must tell me where you get such yummy vintage
…’
April stood there,
amazed at Davina.
‘Sorry, she’s always
like this at funerals.’
Benjamin was standing
behind her. Why is he always sneaking up on
me? He stepped forward and handed April a glass of wine. She
glanced around nervously.
‘Don’t worry.’
Benjamin smiled. ‘Your granddad’s having some heated discussion
with my dad and your mum’s sitting on the stairs talking to
Hawk.’
April looked up. ‘Mr
Sheldon’s here?’
‘Yes, I know,’ he
said, rolling his eyes. ‘It’s like this at my parents’
get-togethers too - they always invite the last people you want to
see. As we speak, my mother is in the kitchen talking to Miss
Holden. We might as well have stayed in school.’
April took a long
swallow of her wine and shivered.
‘Looks like you
needed that.’ Benjamin reached out and gently stroked her arm. ‘You
okay? Can’t be easy for you today.’
April shook her head.
‘No, no, I’m fine.’ She wasn’t fine, of course. She still had her
mother’s words going round and round in her head. When is the right time to tell her who her father really
was?
What the hell did
that mean exactly? Was she implying her father wasn’t the man she’d
thought he was? But he had always been a good, loyal and
hard-working family man. Hadn’t he? Or was she saying something
else - that William Dunne wasn’t even her father after
all?
‘You sure you’re all
right, April?’ asked Benjamin. ‘You don’t look too
good.’
‘Sorry, I just need a
bit of air.’
She pushed her way
outside. The backyard was just that - when the town houses had been
built, the yards had been intended as a workspace for the house
maid, not as a place for the owners’ relaxation and enjoyment.
Still, Silvia’s friend Tilda had made the most of it, creating a
little patio with wooden seats and raised flower beds around the
edge. Not that it was terribly cheery in late autumn. April sat
down on the seat and wrapped her arms around herself protectively.
God, it’s cold here, she thought.
Why is it so cold?
The smell made her
turn around.
‘Sorry,’ said the man
standing by the door. He lifted his hand to show her a cigarette.
‘Terrible habit, I know. Would you like me to put it
out?’
April shook her head,
but the man stubbed it out anyway.
‘I can see you want
to be alone - I’ll go back inside. Just wanted to say hello
though,’ he said, leaning forwards and putting out a hand. ‘Name’s
Peter Noble. I’m an old friend of your dad’s.’
April shook his hand.
Why does his name sound
familiar?
‘Actually,’ said
April, ‘could I ask you something? About my dad.’
‘Of course, if I can
help. What do you want to know?’
‘Well, am I like
him?’
The man began to
laugh softly. ‘Oh yes,’ he said. ‘You’re the dead spit of him, in
fact.’
‘Really?’
The man nodded and
pointed towards the chair opposite April. ‘May I?’
‘Please. I’d like to
hear about him.’
Peter Noble nodded.
He must have been slightly older than her father, or perhaps it was
the effect of his slightly-too-long grey hair and silver-framed
glasses. He looks like the sort of man who’d
wear threadbare tweeds and have a Great Dane, thought April.
For some reason, she trusted him. After all, if he was an old
friend of her dad’s, he had to be one of the good guys, didn’t
he?
‘I haven’t seen your
dad for a few years, not since you all moved to Edinburgh,’ said
Peter. ‘But we spoke on the phone and exchanged letters and so
on.’
The letter- that was it! Peter Noble was the man
mentioned in the job offer April had found on her father’s desk the
morning they’d had their fight. The day he had died.
‘Hang on, aren’t you
a newspaper editor or something?’ said April.
‘Yes, that’s right -
how did you know?’
‘Oh, just something
Dad said a few weeks ago.’
‘Anyway, I haven’t
seen you or your mum for ages, but when I walked through the door
and saw you talking with your friends, I knew it was you. You have
his eyes. And his chin.’
‘His chin?’ April
laughed.
‘Yes, the way you
stick it out when you’re laying down the law - it’s just like your
dad.’ He paused for a moment. ‘I’m afraid I overheard you and your
mum in the kitchen. Take it from me, I’ve known William Dunne since
we were teenagers and you are his in every way. I also know how
much he adored you.’
April looked
away.
‘I know, it’s strange
talking about him in the past tense, but believe me, it will get
better. I lost my wife a couple of years ago and it was hard -
really hard - but you’ll pull through. Will was tough as old boots
and if you’ve got half of that in you—’ he chuckled ‘—and maybe
half of your mother’s fire, then I think you’ll be
fine.’
‘I don’t feel fine,’
said April sadly.
‘Listen, if you ever
need anything,’ said Peter, getting out his wallet and handing
April a business card, ‘advice, help with your homework, or if you
just want to talk about your dad, give me a ring. Honestly, it’d be
good for me too. I miss that old bugger, I really do.’
‘Thank you,’ said
April gratefully, ‘I think I will.’
When she got back
inside, Davina, Fiona and Caro were standing in a huddle talking in
low voices.
‘April, quick!’ said
Davina, pulling her into their corner. ‘We need your
help.’
She looked around
them, bewildered. ‘What’s going on?’
‘Major intrigue,’
said Caro. ‘Okay, you know Mr Sheldon’s here, right? Well, that’s
because he’s a family friend. So Davina asked her mum about it and
apparently your mum knew him at uni or
something.’
Davina nodded
eagerly. ‘So that explains why Hawk’s here, but why has Miss Holden
come?’
‘I don’t know,’ said
April, completely confused now.
‘Well, Fiona’s got a
theory,’ said Davina, bubbling with excitement, ‘and I think she
might be right, but we need you to find out.’
‘Find out
what?’
‘Whether Miss Holden
is Hawk’s date, of course!’
April almost laughed.
Trust three teenage girls to find a romantic scandal at a
funeral.
‘Well, why don’t you
just ask her?’
‘She’s hardly going
to talk to me,’ said Davina, as if that should be self-evident.
‘She knows I think she’s a witch. She’s not going to talk to Caro,
either, because she thinks she’s the Antichrist and Fee doesn’t
know her, so it has to be you.’
April couldn’t
believe how quickly Fiona and Davina had bonded. And she was
already calling Fiona ‘Fee’? That’s my pet
name for her, she thought indignantly.
‘Come on, go,’ said
Davina, pushing April towards the hall. ‘She’s in the kitchen. And
don’t come back without the scoop.’
April reluctantly
walked down the corridor and was relieved to see that Miss Holden
was talking to a middle-aged couple. She turned to leave, but the
teacher spotted her and waved her over.
‘April, come and meet
Mr and Mrs Osbourne, Ben and Davina’s parents.’
Mrs Osbourne was
wearing a calf-length fur coat and sporting an amazing jet-black
back-combed hairdo that for some reason reminded April of the
burning oil well footage on CNN. Mr Osbourne was tall with the same
piercing blue eyes as Benjamin, and although he didn’t quite look
like the evil Bond villain Caro had made him out to be, April could
certainly imagine him as a ruthless captain of industry, breaking
strikes and stripping assets in his double-breasted suit. Together
they made a formidable pair; even her haughty cousins seemed to be
paying deference to them; it was almost as if royalty were in the
room. Still, despite their impressive presence, the Osbournes
weren’t quite as dazzling as April had expected. Given that their
children were so gorgeous, she had pictured them with movie-star
looks. But then that was sometimes the way. When you saw the
parents of top models it was sometimes as if the slightly wonky DNA
on both sides had met in the middle to create a perfectly
symmetrical whole.
‘It’s lovely to
finally meet you, April,’ said Mrs Osbourne, taking her hand and
patting it. ‘We’ve both met your mother a few times and she’s
always talking about you, and how well you’re doing at
school.’
April thought she saw
Miss Holden’s eyebrows rise at that comment, but she might have
imagined it.
‘If there’s anything
we can do for you, you need only ask,’ said Mr Osbourne, touching
her shoulder lightly.
April nodded
politely, thinking, I’m not sure you’d be
quite so keen to help me out if you knew what my friend Caro and I
have been saying about you.
‘Thank you for
coming,’ she said. ‘My mother needs all the support she can get
right now.’
‘Of course, of
course,’ said Mrs Osbourne. ‘I’ll drop by next week when she’s
feeling, ah, a little better.’
Mr Osbourne pointed
to his watch. ‘Sorry, April, I’m afraid we’re expected
elsewhere.’
‘Dinner with the
Camerons, it’s quite a bore but one must, mustn’t one? We’ll say
goodbye to your dear mother and grandfather on the way out, and Ben
will take Davina home later, so don’t worry about rushing her off.
You girls have a good old gossip.’ She touched April’s arm as she
was walking past. ‘And you must come to the Winter Ball on
Saturday. I know you won’t be in the mood to party but sometimes
it’s best to take your mind off things. I’ll get Davina to drop off
an invitation.’
When they had gone,
April was left with Miss Holden. They smiled at each other
awkwardly, then looked at the floor. Without the common ground of
school, they didn’t seem to have anything to say to each
other.
‘So did you come with
Mr Sheldon?’ blurted April, to fill the silence.
The teacher laughed.
‘I did, but not as his date, if that’s what you’re asking. No, your
mother asked Robert - Mr Sheldon - to bring me along. I met your
parents a couple of times when they were choosing a school for you
and I guess she assumed you’d need a bit of moral support. Of
course, she doesn’t know teenage girls like I do.’ Miss Holden
smiled. ‘I think you’ve got all the support you need right over
there.’ She nodded towards the door where Davina, Fiona and Caro
were watching them, trying to look casual and
uninterested.
‘Listen, April,’ said
the teacher suddenly, lowering her voice. ‘I know this isn’t the
time, but there’s something I need to talk to you about when this
is all over.’
April’s heart sank.
She wasn’t going to get told off for her assignments on top of
everything else, was she?
‘What is it? About
school?’
‘No, not about
school. It’s important,’ she said quietly. ‘I’ll be in touch, and
in the meantime you be strong, okay? Your dad was a wonderful man.
You should be proud of everything he did.’
As she left, April
remained standing alone in the kitchen, her head buzzing with
thoughts. What on earth was all that
about? But she didn’t have much time to worry about it,
because Caro, Davina and Fiona ran in, worried looks on their
faces.
April laughed. ‘Don’t
look so serious - it wasn’t a date, my mum invited
her.’
Caro shook her head.
‘No, no, forget that,’ she said urgently. ‘This is something
else.’
‘What is it?’ asked
April with a sinking feeling.
The three girls
exchanged looks.
‘It’s Gabriel,’ said
Fiona. ‘He’s outside.’