Gerald and Rosemary decide to take a break in Marbella where Gerald has a villa, leaving Vic to keep an eye on both houses.
Bill Allington invites Vic to go with him around Wulfrum's pubs as he looks for the two mysterious South Africans.
They come across them in the Rising Moon and Vic recognises one of them as Terence Cragge, the one who had beaten him and threatened his life on the behest of Rod van der Velde.

Chapter Forty Six

Her first meal on Spanish soil had gone down well. Gerald had almost insisted that for her first night she must have paella, which he informed her, was the Spanish national dish. She was glad that she had listened to him; the meal had been superb. The ambiance of the restaurant went a long way to making it even more enjoyable.
She knew that Gerald knew quite a bit about the area so she had asked him how come it was called paella?
"It's called after the round flat metal pan it's cooked in and came originally from the Valencia area on the east coast."
She was impressed, as she was with his choice of wine, a berberana. She knew nothing about wine except whether she liked it or not. This one she liked.
They did not rush through dinner and were at the table for about an hour and a half. The restaurant was not crowded and when she remarked on it Gerald informed her that the Spanish tend to eat a couple of hours later than the British, and that the restaurant would likely be crowded a little later on.
"It means that we seldom have to worry about getting a table," he remarked as they finished their wine. "We just come in before the locals. Let's take our coffee into the lounge, it's far more comfortable."
After they had finished their coffees Gerald ordered two glasses of Amontillado. I think you'll like this, it's medium dry. Some of the sweeter ones can be a little sickly."
She sipped it. "Mmm, I do like it. You'll have to keep an eye on me. I could get used to this."
He smiled. This was going to be a very enjoyable holiday – hopefully the first of many. He would have been delighted had he been able to read her mind as the thoughts running through her head must have been similar to his own.
His only concern was that he wouldn't blow the mood when he asked her about the incident with the doorbell and the ensuing look he had detected in her eyes. He thought about it for a moment. Perhaps it had been his imagination.
He dismissed the thought. The bell had rung for no reason and he had definitely seen that she had been worried, maybe a little more than worried. He had to ask and if he put it off it would only get harder.
"Rosemary," his voice was subdued and she noticed it.
"What's wrong?"
"I'm sorry, I may be making a mountain out of a mole hill, but for my own peace of mind I have to ask you," he paused.
She could see he was having difficulty.
"Ask me anything, we're all friends here," she said, trying to make light of it to help him.
"Well, and please tell me if I'm wrong or tell me to mind my own business if you want to." Again he paused.
"Gerald, get to the point. You've got me burning up with curiosity."
"Well," he said again, "at the villa, when the doorbell rang and there was no one there, I'm sure I saw a look approaching fear flit through your eyes and I was hoping that you would tell me about it. You know that I would do anything that I could to help if there is something wrong."
He could have said more but felt that he was stumbling along and to say more would only add to his awkwardness. As he was talking he sensed that there really was something as her eyes seemed to repeat their previous message.
She sat silently and he didn't try to force her into an explanation. He merely waited for her to decide what to tell him, if indeed she would tell him anything.
She cleared her throat. "I suppose I should tell you. You have a right to know what you're getting yourself into."
It sounded ominous, but he did not interrupt.
"It all started years ago when Rod died. He knew he was dying and his last words to me were that he would always be with me, that he would never leave me and would always be 'present' to look after me."
She emphasized the word 'present' as if she didn't really know what it meant in this context.
Gerald continued to be silent, watching her with growing interest.
"Several times since his death I have felt around me what I can only call a presence. It was as if there was someone with me, yet I knew that I was alone. One occasion when the feeling was particularly strong I was almost certain that I saw something. It was nothing distinct, but more of a shadow where there should not have been one, and I felt the temperature in the room dip. It was only a couple of months ago at the Manor and I really felt that it was Rod, to such an extent that I started talking to him. It was so much that Connie came in as she thought I had guests. I told her that it was the television but I'm sure that she didn't believe me. It was strange, but I think that you know me well enough to know that I'm not prone to imagination."
He nodded.
"No, you're not. You're very rational and that is why I would not dismiss anything that you are telling me. I have been told a little about Rod and I know that he was very passionate about having you in his life. I'm sure he would do nothing to harm you."
"It wasn't me that I was worried about," she muttered almost under her breath.
"Sorry, I didn't catch that."
"Oh, I was just thinking to myself, but let me go on," she said, not giving him time to ask again what she had said. "Then, despite what you know about Rod's feelings towards me, you have most certainly been told about his other side."
"Yes." The answer was matter of fact and made her aware that no further explanations were necessary.
"What he also said at that time was that he wanted me to never have a relationship with any other man."
Gerald shifted uncomfortably in his chair.
"And up until now I never have."
She noticed his unease.
"After all this time I still feel that he would do nothing to harm me or cause me any unhappiness. If somehow Rod is still around then I think that he will come to accept you and I being together. I mean, he's going to have to. I just want you to be prepared in case anything strange and inexplicable does happen."
All of a sudden Gerald's mind was racing.
"What about the shooting? I mean the police cannot explain it. Do you suspect Rod had anything to do with it?"
"I don't know what to think. It seems too incredible that he could have had anything to do with it. What keeps going through my mind though is the thought that what if he was somehow involved and was trying to protect me. The other thing is that I was convinced that I had left that gun of his in South Africa. I really was. That worries me more than anything. There was also that slate that came off the roof, narrowly missing Michael. No one could explain that. To be honest Gerald, you weren't mistaken with what you thought you saw in my eyes. I am more than just worried and now I'm worried for you as well."
He took her hand. "Don't be. Whatever happens, you're worth it. Nothing is going to frighten me off."
She squeezed his hand. "I hope not."
She jumped as the restaurant lights flickered.
"Don't worry, that often happens in Spain," he reassured her. Mind you, he thought to himself, that was a hell of a bit of timing.
"Anyway, if we intend getting an early start in the morning we should think about getting home."
As they left the restaurant Rosemary noticed just how crowded it had become. It was almost nine-thirty and people were waiting to be seated.
Neither one of them had a lot to say as they got into the car and left the car park. The only remarks made were about the meal and discussing where they were going the next day. They decided on Gibraltar.
The road home was relatively busy and necessitated Gerald using the rear view mirror often. As they turned off the main road towards the villa, a glance in the mirror caused him to swerve as he turned the corner.
"What happened?"
Her eyes had been closing and the swerve had jerked her back to full awareness.
He paused. "Oh, I thought I saw an animal start across the road in front of us."
"I'm glad you missed it," she replied.
Gerald shook his head to himself. He could have sworn that he'd seen a shadowy figure giving off a very slight luminous glow when he'd looked in the mirror. After he had jerked his eyes away to straighten the car he had immediately looked back over his shoulder and there was nothing there.
Perhaps it was because of what we were talking about in the restaurant, he thought. The mind can play strange tricks.
Perhaps not!
He preferred to think that it was the former.

Chapter Forty Seven

Heathrow Airport was crowded as always. It was five o'clock and Bill had arrived half an hour before the due time of the South African Airways flight from Johannesburg, Jo'burg as Jennie called it.
He cursed when he checked the arrivals screen to find that the flight was late and was not now due until six-fifteen. He now had an hour and a quarter to kill plus customs check and baggage pick up, probably another half an hour.
He had found out the hotel that Jennie and Charlie were staying at and had booked himself a single room for the night so that he wouldn't have to drive home. At least the flight delay would give the evening traffic down the A3 into London time to die down. He didn't think he could stand another tail-to-tail drive back as bad as the one out to the airport. Patience as a driver was not his strongest point. He didn't care how many cars there were on the road as long as they were all behind him.
He thought about getting a beer but rejected that idea as he didn't want to meet Jennie for the first time with the smell of alcohol on his breath, so he went into W.H.Smith's and bought an Evening Standard, and then settled for a coffee. The Standard crossword would keep him going while he waited, probably longer than he needed.
He found an empty table and settled down. The first half an hour went much quicker than he had anticipated. The crossword however was a different story. He got a second coffee and tried again. At five past six he gave up. He had managed a little more than half the puzzle, but he consoled himself with the thought that it was Friday and the Friday crossword was always a much bigger one. He went out to recheck the screen and was a little annoyed to find that another five minutes had been added to the arrival time.
Still he didn't want any more coffee so he went to the gate to wait. By now he was filled with a mixture of anticipation, worry and excitement. All his self doubts came flooding back. What if she doesn't like me? What if I don't like her? Shut up Bill, he admonished himself, you've spoken to the girl quite a few times and the way you got on with her pre-supposes the idea that, at worst, you are going to be friends. Settle for that and anything else is a bonus. He opened up the paper again in an attempt to take his mind off the meeting.
The next time he looked up at the screen he saw that the plane had landed. This gave him the excuse to bin the Evening Standard without having to admit that the crossword had beaten him.
The screen amended again to show that the baggage was now being reclaimed.
Ten minutes later a few of the passengers started filtering through. The crowd around him had grown as other people had arrived to meet family and friends.
The people coming through the gate seemed fairly well dressed and he began to wish that he had dressed up a little more instead of deciding to wear jeans, trainers and an open-necked, long sleeved shirt with the sleeves rolled up. It was warm in the terminal but he still considered rolling the sleeves back down, but then thought that they would be too creased so he left them.
A couple of times he thought he saw them. He knew he was looking for a girl and three men, but each time he thought it was them they turned out to be a couple merely followed by two men. It was quickly confirmed that they were not who he was waiting for when their faces spread into huge smiles and they looked straight past him at people waiting behind him.
Then he saw her.
Somehow he knew intuitively that it was her.
Suddenly he was pleased that he had worn his jeans as she was dressed in the same way, although her jeans looked a lot better on her than his did on him – at least that was his opinion.
As he watched her he became aware that he had a broad smile on his face. If first impressions were anything to go on then he would move heaven and earth to form a relationship with this girl. She looked even better than he had been led to believe by Charlie Randle. She was about five-feet-five inches tall and her hair was obviously shoulder length, but she was wearing it up and, even after such a long flight, it was still perfectly in place. Her figure was stunning. He quickly looked her up and down before she saw him.
Then she caught his eye and her face too broke into a smile. What a smile. She was good looking before she smiled, but now – and she's smiling at me he thought. He almost turned round just to make sure there wasn't someone else behind him returning the smile.
When she waved his initial instinct was confirmed and he waved back. One of the men waved and he realised that that must be Charlie.
Charlie was the eldest of the group but was still only in his early forties. He was a big man, a little over six feet tall and around two hundred pounds. His hair was not yet in retreat although it was graying around the temples. He had a kind, caring face and again Bill's instincts told him they would be friends.
Jennie pushed her luggage cart through the barrier and then, still with a huge smile on her face, parked it right in the middle of the crowd coming through behind her, went up to him and threw her arms around him as if she had known him for ages. He was a little surprised but quickly returned the hug.
Over her shoulder he could see Charlie and the other two, all were grinning.
The hug went on longer than he had expected but there was no feeling of embarrassment, in fact it felt strangely natural considering it was for the first time.
She pulled back and he released her. She looked up at him. "Mr. Allington, it's good to see you. You're exactly as I had pictured you to be."
That made him feel good, especially as she had greeted him with such enthusiasm. Before he could reply she turned back towards the other three.
"Let me introduce you to the cream of the South African police force. This, as you have probably already guessed, is Charlie Randle."
"Delighted to meet you Charlie."
"Me too, we've had nothing but talk about you for the last few hours." he replied as he stepped from behind his luggage cart and pushed Jennies out of every body's way.
"Ignore him," Said Jennie, "for a senior police officer he tells too many fibs."
Charlie smiled at Bill and raised his eyebrows. Bill knew that he hadn't been lying.
"These other two reprobates are Dave Sutton and my immediate boss George Burns, and please don't say anything. He's heard every joke a hundred times at least."
They all shook hands.
"I wasn't about to say anything. In any case I can well imagine that you have heard it all before and that you're fairly bored with it by now," he said, looking at George.
"You've got that right." George had far less of an accent than the other three.
"I've parked in the short-stay park, so if you're all ready I'll run you into town and to the hotel. I'm sure you could all do with a tidy up after the flight."
They all nodded.
Bill walked up to Jennie's luggage and started to push it. She walked along with him and the others followed in a mini convoy.
On the way to the car park he resisted the urge to stare at her, but could feel her eyes on him from time to time. They made small talk on the way, such things as how was the flight?, any turbulence?, what films did they show? . . .
That brought them to the car. It was now a few minutes after seven.
"Here it is."
Bill's car was a Ford Mondeo, but because of the lack of luggage space he had borrowed Gavin's Range Rover. All their luggage fitted easily into it.
"I suppose we'd better let Jennie sit up front," Charlie made the offer, "or she'll only sulk."
She glared at him. "I'm warning you Charlie Randle."
Charlie just grinned and the three men got into the back of the vehicle. Jennie jumped into the front and Bill couldn't help noticing how the seat seemed to be far too big for her. As if to confirm that she reached down and slid the seat forward.
"Everybody in?" A chorus of yes's told him that they were.
He reversed out and found the airport approach road. As they drove through the tunnel under the local roads towards the A3, he said "hopefully it should take less than an hour. The traffic will be a lot lighter by now, especially into the city."
As he pulled on to the A3 he saw that he was right. Although there was plenty of traffic it was moving well. It got heavier when they turned off the A3 and headed up through Kensington and on down through Piccadilly.
As he passed by the statue of Eros, he turned right and drove down Haymarket. At the bottom he turned right and first left which brought them out on to Pall Mall where he turned right.
"Straight ahead of you is Buckingham Palace. If the flag is flying, then the Queen is in residence," he informed them.
The flag was not flying.
They turned left and left again, bringing them to Birdcage Walk. St. James Park, which, as they drove up Pall Mall was on their left, was again on their left.
"A couple of more turns and we'll be at the hotel."
"Good, I could do with a shower. It's been a long trip." Charlie's voice sounded a little tired.
"There it is." Jennie saw it first.
The sign outside confirmed that it was indeed the right hotel, Sanctuary House Hotel. It was a large building with six floors on the corner of Tothill Street. The first two floors were white brick while the upper floors were of red brick. The top floor was built into the very sharply sloped slate roof. The windows on the top floor were dormers. First impressions were that it looked a friendly place without being ostentatious.
As they pulled up outside the front door Charlie's observation was, "looks more like a pub."
"Yes," said Bill. "The ground floor is the bar and restaurant, they call it the Ale and Pie House, and all the bedrooms are on the upper floors."
"Have you been here before Bill?" Dave Sutton was now awake, having dozed all the way from the airport.
"I was here earlier to check in. I decided to stay overnight rather than drive back to Wulfrum tonight. I took the last room. There are only thirty-six, so I suppose I was lucky."
"Makes sense," Dave agreed. "Another good thing is that George and Charlie won't have far to stagger when the bar closes."
"Yeah, yeah, as if he's a good example of sobriety, eh George?"
"Isn't that the truth."
"Come on now boys," said Jennie," let's get the luggage out and get checked in. I don't know about you, but I'm getting hungry. I hope we don't have to go through the bar, it could take forever to get these three up to their rooms."
"George's getting thirsty," Charlie continued the banter.
Bill smiled as they took their luggage out. It was obvious that they were a great crowd and the best of friends. What with that and the way he had got on with Jennie he was well pleased that he had decided to stay overnight.
While they checked in, Bill waited for them, having checked in before he went to pick them up. When they had all got their keys Charlie said, "Right, let's all meet in the bar in three quarters of an hour."
"Now Bill you can see who the alki really is," said Dave.
Charlie ignored him.
"That okay with you Bill?"
"Yes, fine."
"Oh, we'd better give Jennie a bit more time. She's got all that work to do on her face."
Bill looked towards him and saw that the punch had already landed. Charlie's face was already screwed up with pain. Retribution had come swiftly.
"You were warned," she said.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he said as he headed for the lift rubbing his arm far harder than was necessary.

Chapter Forty Eight

Terence was worried. He had been since that night at Alvin Tewell's house when Alvin had told him about Rod's records. He had called Alvin from England as he still had little idea of what he was looking for and any information Alvin could dig up would be very gratefully received.
He was still convinced that what he was looking for was with the widow but it didn't hurt to get Alvin to find out anything he could.
Alvin knew exactly what he meant and after some disastrous investments he could well do with an influx of cash. He knew that Terence could be as generous as he could be nasty and he was well aware of how nasty he could be. The conversation had ended with Alvin promising to make inquiries among all of Rod's old associates.
Alvin had said that it would take him one to two weeks at least to check things out and he would call as soon as he had finished, whether he found anything or not. Terence had told him not to because he and Stan were leaving Wulfrum for a while just in case their faces were becoming noticed, and that he would call him again because they would, on their return, be staying at a different hotel and consequently the phone number would be different.
It was ten days later when Terence called Alvin back, his impatience and concern wouldn't let him wait any longer.
The phone had rung seven or eight times and he was thinking of hanging up and trying again when Alvin answered.
"Hello?"
"Alvin, it's Terence. Have you got anything for me?"
"Well yes and no. He had everything put on microfilm and I've been reliably informed that all his paper records were burned. I'm also more than ninety-nine percent certain that he had only one copy of the microfilm made. The bad news is that no one has any idea where he kept the film and it's so damned small that it could be anywhere."
"Shit, now I know what I'm looking for it's going to be even harder to find than I thought. Not only that but we don't even know if it still exists. Ask a few more questions Alvin. Tell anyone who gives you any good information that they will be well looked after. It's likely over here but you never know."
"I'll do that Terence. Do you want me to call you?"
"No, I'll call you back myself. We may need to move around again."

Chapter Forty Nine

Vic was feeling a little lonely at the Manor. It was such a big house and during the time he had been there he was used to having Rosemary around and Michael and Ruth had been staying there when he first arrived. Also Gerald was constantly calling in and with all the police activity there was always something going on. Even Connie was only due to pop in twice and then only for a couple of hours at a time. He knew that she was only coming because Rosemary had asked her to keep an eye on him and make sure the fridge stayed full. Even the only friend he had made in Wulfrum, Bill Allington, was away in London.
He was therefore well pleased when Ruth had called and invited him to stay with her and Michael over the weekend. Real people to talk to instead of imaginary ones.
He threw a few changes of clothing and his personal items into a hold-all which he tossed unceremoniously on the back seat of Rosemary's Mercedes and headed off.
As coincidence would have it, the moment he turned out of the drive and towards Cheltenham a Ford Escort came along behind him and overtook him. Inside the Escort the passenger turned towards the driver.
"Stan, that was the guy from the pub the other night. You know, the one I thought I recognised?"
He didn't wait for a reply. "Now I know who he is. He's Van der Velde's wife's brother. The one I warned off all those years ago. I knew I knew him. Seeing him come out of there brought it back. Still I'm not bothered about him any more, it was only for Rod anyway.
The thing is he had some sort of luggage on the back seat which means he's likely away for the weekend. I don't think we'll go to London after all. I think we'll book into a bed and breakfast in Cheltenham. The house could well be empty over the weekend. Pull back and let him and the car behind him pass us, with a car between him and us we can keep him in sight without making him in any way suspicious. I just want to be sure that he is heading out of town."
It was easy to drive that way because the road from then on was only one lane each way and was full of bends. It wasn't long before the car in front became two and then three and then a line. It suited Terence as there was no way at all now that the driver of the Mercedes would know he was being followed.
They reached Cheltenham. Terence and Stan drove straight on towards the town centre whilst Vic turned right to avoid town traffic. "Looks like he's going on," remarked Stan.
"Yeah. Pull up at the first bed and breakfast and we'll book in."
Vic had about another five miles before he reached Michael and Ruth's, which was a little south of Cheltenham. He had never been to the house before but Ruth had given him pinpoint directions and he easily found it.
The house was imposing although not as much so as the Manor. It had a three-car garage and as both of the doors were closed he pulled up outside the single one. No sooner had he turned off the engine and opened the door than Ruth was standing outside the car waiting for him.
"Vic, good to see you again."
She gave him a hug and they exchanged a kiss on the cheek.
"Come on in. Michael's not here, he'll be a couple of hours yet."
He knew that he was about to be grilled but he didn't mind as he knew that any concerns Ruth had were genuine.

Chapter Fifty

"I didn't realise that Gibraltar was so small."
"Isn't it?"
"I loved the apes. I hope that picture of the one sitting on my shoulder comes out."
They had stayed in Gibraltar for about four hours and had seen everything in that time.
Gerald had suggested that they drive on to Ronda when they got back into Spain. She had not argued. He knew quite a bit about Andalusia and she knew nothing, so she relied completely on his judgment.
Ronda was a town that she really liked. The Ronda Gorge was just on the south side of the town, yet just in the town. As they drove over the bridge, Gerald informed her that it was called the Puerto Nuevo, the new bridge, although it was built as long ago as the eighteenth century. The gorge itself he told her was three hundred and twenty-eight feet deep. They parked as close as they could to it and walked across the bridge. It was certainly impressive to say the very least.
After their walk they got back in the car and drove into the town centre where they parked near the bullring. It was the first one she had seen and was reputed to be the oldest in Spain. There may have been one or two older ones somewhere in Spain, but as far as the locals were concerned this was the oldest. It dated back to before seventeen eighty-five when it was inaugurated. Gerald watched very little television when he was in Spain and as a consequence had done an awful lot of reading about the area.
"I don't think that I would like to come here when there was an actual bullfight going on."
"Nor I, although I might go to see one in Portugal. They don't kill the bulls there."
"That's certainly a lot less primitive."
They had decided to stay in Ronda for dinner and had finished eating around eight o'clock.
Back outside the streets were teeming with people.
"Is something going on?" she asked.
"No, it's always like this in the evening. It's the time to see and be seen. Remember the restaurant last night?"
There was a definite buzz in the air and the incoherent sound of many simultaneous conversations could be heard. It was, she thought, like Oxford Street at Christmas, but without the Christmas lights.
Rosemary slept all the way back to Marbella. It had been a long day and one that she had thoroughly enjoyed. Her tiredness and contentment had now encouraged her to sleep.
Gerald did not disturb her. He was too busy checking the rear view mirror, not for traffic but for anything that might appear in the back seat. All he saw were other headlights, but he still had a sense of uneasiness. He couldn't decide just how much of his feeling was from the previous night's experience or how much of it was merely in his mind.
Whichever it was, he didn't like it.

Have you written a poem, story or novel? Send it to us at: comment@granthamjournal.co.uk