Chapter Twenty-Five

The nurse stepped out from behind her desk. ‘I have news for you, Miss Heart,’ she said. ‘Mr McBride is conscious at last.’

Rosalie stared at her in shock. ‘Oh …’ She held her breath, bracing herself for bad news. She had been warned Geoff could be brain damaged or paralysed when he came out of his coma.

The nurse smiled. ‘Don’t look so worried. The doctor was very happy with his progress. Of course, Mr McBride is weak and disoriented, but that’s only to be expected. You can pop in and say hello for a short while. He’ll be glad to see you. In fact, he’s been asking for you ever since he woke up.’

It was as if a great weight was lifted off Rosalie’s chest and she could breathe again – hope again. Geoff would recover, he would leave the hospital and go back to being his old self, minus the whisky and cigars. She’d make sure of that.

She followed the nurse into the room where Geoff was propped up against several pillows, his eyes closed. His face appeared pale and thin, but most of the machines that had been bleeping and flashing constantly around him these past few weeks had been removed.

‘I’ll leave you for now,’ the nurse said in a quiet voice, ‘but remember you can only stay for a few minutes. He must rest.’

Rosalie nodded and approached the bed.

‘Hello, pretty,’ Geoff whispered without opening his eyes.

‘Oh, Geoff, I’m so happy to hear you at last.’ Repressing a sob, she grabbed hold of his right hand and squeezed hard.

‘Ouch, watch it, girl. That’s no way to treat an invalid.’ He opened his eyes. The corners of his mouth lifted in a tentative smile.

She brought his hand to her lips and kissed it, then pressed it against her cheek, by now wet with tears. ‘How are you feeling?’

‘Alive. Barely. What about you? Is everything all right?’ He looked at her anxiously.

‘I’m all right, don’t worry,’ she said quickly as she sat on the edge of the bed, reluctant to let go of his hand. ‘I don’t want to be cross with you – not just yet – but you have a lot of explaining to do.’

He sighed. ‘I know. Go on then, fire.’

She sighed. Now she could ask him the questions that had been burning her lips for the past few weeks, she didn’t know where to start.

‘I want to know why you sold Raventhorn without telling me,’ she blurted out. ‘Lorna and I had a nasty shock when Petersen announced he was the new owner. In fact, I thought he was lying at first.’

Geoff sighed. ‘It was cowardly of me to keep quiet about it. I wanted to tell you, but the longer I waited, the more difficult it became. As soon as I realised you were picking up Petersen from the airport, I rushed after you but then I had that stupid accident and I’ve been stuck in here ever since.’

‘It was no stupid accident. The Porsche’s brake lines were cut. Someone meant for you to crash. The police are investigating.’

Geoff gasped. ‘Really? I thought I had been driving too fast.’ He frowned. ‘Have the police found anything?’

‘Not yet. Do you have any idea who could have done it?’

‘I’m not sure. I’ll have to think.’ Maybe it was the harsh tone in his voice, or the way he narrowed his eyes to look away, but it sounded as if he already knew the answer.

‘Who was it, Geoff?’

He closed his eyes briefly and drew in a long breath. ‘I have no proof. It would be wrong of me to point the finger at anyone just yet.’ He opened his eyes. ‘About Raventhorn, I am so sorry, but I had to sell. I had no choice.’

‘You’ve had money problems before and you always bounced back. We could have organised more weddings or even conferences, we could have—’

‘There was no other way this time, but I’m confident that with Petersen, Raventhorn is in good hands.’

Rosalie bit her lip. Now wasn’t the time to tell him Marc and his girlfriend were planning to auction off the castle and all its treasures.

‘Why did you choose Petersen? Is it because of the runestone on their family farm – the one with the same raven design as the one on Harald’s shield?’

His eyes widened in surprise. ‘You know about that? I suppose Marc Petersen told you. I’ve been in touch with his father by email for months. He was very interested in finding Harald’s treasure. It was terrible that he died in that helicopter crash. I hope his son will show the same interest.’

Red-hot anger flashed through Rosalie. Letting go of Geoff’s hand, she jumped up from the bed and walked to the centre of the room. ‘Harald and his treasure, again! That’s all you ever think about, all you ever care about. When are you going to give up and acknowledge it doesn’t exist?’

He flinched and his face became even paler as his fingers gripped the sheet. Immediately alarm and remorse drowned her anger and she rushed back to his side. ‘What’s wrong? Do you want me to call the nurse?’

He shook his head. ‘No need. I’ll be fine in a minute.’ He took several deep breaths. ‘You are wrong, Rosalie. I care about you and Lorna a lot more than I ever cared about Raventhorn or Harald.’

He took a moment before he continued.

‘If I’m truthful, I cared about your mother even more. Every day without her has been a torment. It broke my heart when she died, as much as it broke yours.’

The pain in his eyes was so intense Rosalie took his hand again. ‘I know you loved her too. I’m sorry.’ She hesitated, torn between the need to find out if he knew about her mother’s secret past life and the desire to shelter him. The need to learn the truth won.

‘Actually, there’s something else. It’s about Mum. I don’t quite know how to say this, but I found something – something too shocking for words, something that changes everything I thought I knew about her.’

She bent her head, and swallowed hard.

‘Go on.’

‘First I found a photo of Mum and her parents when I was clearing out her room. I asked Lorna but she didn’t want to talk about it, so I did an internet search and found more photos – horrible glamour photos dating back to the late 1980s.’

She shuddered as she recalled how crude some of the images had been. ‘At first I thought I was mistaken. I mean, Mum would never have posed for such trashy magazines, would she? She had no interest in fashion or make-up, she hated having her photo taken. Then I looked more closely, and saw that it was Mum all right.’

She paused. ‘I just can’t believe she’d pose for those kind of photos. It’s disgusting.’

‘Poor Rosalie. I’m sorry you had to find out like that.’ Geoff’s voice was a harsh whisper. His blue eyes stared at her fixedly. ‘I should have spoken to you earlier. Once again, I was a coward.’

Rosalie gasped. ‘So it was really her? I was hoping I had got it wrong somehow.’ She swallowed hard. ‘And you knew. Why didn’t you tell me?’

The door squeaked open behind her and it was the nurse’s voice that answered. ‘I’m afraid I have to ask you to leave and let Mr McBride have some rest now.’ She walked in, pulling a trolley with medical supplies on.

‘Just a few more minutes,’ Rosalie implored, ‘it’s important.’

‘So is sleep,’ the nurse replied, a little more forceful now.

‘Please, Matron.’ Geoff gestured for the nurse to come to his side. ‘I promise I’ll do everything you say, take all your pills and drink every drop of your concoctions without a word of complaint.’

He gave her what he must have hoped was his most charming smile. It seemed to work. The nurse sighed. ‘All right, you can have five more minutes.’

As soon as she’d left, Rosalie crossed her arms on her chest and glared at Geoff. ‘Why did you not tell me before? Why did Mum never speak about her parents, about her past?’ She swallowed hard. The last question was the hardest. ‘Why did she not trust me with the truth?’

Geoff closed his eyes briefly. When he reopened them, they glistened with tears. ‘Because she was ashamed, Rosalie. She was terribly ashamed.’

Rosalie shrugged. ‘I know the photos are vile, and I can’t believe Mum got mixed up in anything like that, but I would have understood, I wouldn’t have judged her.’

His blue eyes stared at her. ‘You did judge her when you found out though, didn’t you? Anyway, it wasn’t only the magazines. Your mother suffered terribly for the mistakes she made when she was young. They cost her a lot – her family, her self-respect, her safety. She lived in a constant terror that you, or someone else, would find out about her and that the man she escaped from all those years ago would come after her –and after you.’

‘Who are you talking about? What man?’ Sudden understanding made her eyes grow wide. ‘My father!’

Geoff nodded.

‘Who is he? Where is he?’

‘His name is Jake Tyler and, as far as I know, he’s in jail in Winchester.’

A lump formed in her throat. ‘He’s in prison? What did he do?’

‘This time, he beat a woman up and robbed a grocery store, but I believe he’s been in and out of prison for a string of offences over the years.’

She took a deep breath. ‘You said he beat a woman up. Did he hurt Mum too?’

Geoff nodded. ‘Many times. And he forced her to pose for those magazines. But there’s more.’ His mouth twisted in a grimace. ‘Your mother believed that he set fire to your grandparents’ house to punish her for leaving him. They both died in the fire. The police couldn’t prove anything against Tyler at the time, so your mother decided to run away. All she ever wanted was to protect you from him.’

Rosalie’s stomach contracted in a tight knot. There did not seem to be enough air in the room to breathe suddenly. Her childhood dreams had just crumbled in a sordid mess at her feet. Her father wasn’t a rock star, a spy or a courageous explorer. He was a brute, a woman beater, a convicted felon – a murderer, perhaps.

‘Why would he come after us?’ she asked in a hoarse whisper.

‘Because your mother took something from him when she left – a diary that could incriminate him and his associates in serious crimes. For years your mother lived in terror of him finding her – and you. Despite all our precautions, he did find you. I have no idea how. That’s what I was trying to warn you about that day before my operation.’

So that was why her mother always refused to be photographed, and shied away from any publicity and stayed in her room whenever there were visitors to Raventhorn. Sophie’s frumpy style now made sense. She didn’t want to draw attention to herself, didn’t want to risk being recognised.

And what had Rosalie done? She had talked about her to reporters; she’d even given them her photo to copy. Anyone carrying out a basic internet search like the one she’d done would have been able to trace her to Raventhorn. If Jake Tyler had found her, then she was probably the one to blame.

‘I thought you said he was in prison.’ There was no way she would ever acknowledge this man as her father.

‘Men like him are dangerous, even from behind bars. They have no shortage of friends or accomplices to carry out their dirty work.’

‘Why didn’t Mum give the diary to the police?’

‘She was scared, love. She didn’t want to testify in court and risk his revenge. She just wanted to disappear and try to give you a normal childhood – as normal as it could be, under the circumstances.’

‘You could have given the diary to the police yourself after she died.’

‘I suppose so, but I wanted to protect you as well.’

Rosalie took a deep breath, pressed her fingers to her forehead. Her thoughts were all over the place. There was something she was trying to remember. Something about the diary, a vague memory she just couldn’t pin down right now. Never mind. She’d think about it later.

She looked at Geoff again. ‘You said Tyler found me. How can you be so sure?’

‘A few months ago, I received an anonymous letter demanding a large sum of money in exchange for your mother’s past to be kept a secret. An old photo of your mother was attached.’ He swallowed hard. ‘Well, you’ve seen some of the photos. I don’t need to tell you any more.’

Rosalie clenched her fists. ‘How do you know it was from him?’

Geoff sighed. ‘I don’t. I assumed it was from him.’

‘Did you pay up?’

He nodded. ‘I didn’t want your mother’s past life to be dragged up into the open and become the talk of Irlwick. I didn’t want you to be ashamed of her.’

His hard blue stare stopped her from protesting. ‘I should have known paying up that first time wouldn’t be the end of the matter. A few weeks later, I got another letter, then another, and every time the amount of money the blackmailers asked for was higher.’

‘Why didn’t you go to the police? They could have stopped this.’

‘Perhaps, but there would have been a scandal, and everybody would have known about your mum. I tried to catch who was behind the blackmail and lay in wait at the different places where I was asked to leave the money – usually car parks in the national park – but they were very clever, or lucky. I never saw them.’

‘You sold your classic cars to be able to pay up, didn’t you?’

Geoff nodded. ‘They were my only source of ready cash. You know as well as I do how little there is in my bank account. Rupert was still working for me then. He had contacts in London, and he helped me sell the cars.’

She stepped closer to him, took his hand and gave it a little squeeze. ‘Oh, Geoff. You took Rupert into your confidence, when you should have told me the full story.’

He shrugged. ‘I didn’t want you to worry. I must say that Rupert surprised me at the time. He wasn’t his usual brattish self. He didn’t ask me why I was selling the cars, didn’t even demand a commission for arranging the transactions. He genuinely helped. Then the blackmailers made more specific threats against you, and I realised I needed to take more drastic action to keep you safe.’

‘So you decided to sell Raventhorn.’

‘That way I could pay all my debts and give you enough money to disappear and make a new start somewhere where you would be safe.’

‘You should have known I would never leave you or Lorna.’ Tears pricked Rosalie’s eyes.

He sighed. ‘I wasn’t thinking straight. I put Raventhorn up for sale. I had to be discreet. I didn’t want Rupert to find out. You know how obsessed he is with inheriting the place and being the laird. Anyway, one day last August I caught him sneaking out with the Landseer painting from the Crimson Room.’

‘That’s why you sacked him.’

He nodded. ‘I should have done it a long time before.’

He closed his eyes and took a moment to catch his breath.

‘He kicked up a fuss, of course, and said he was in big trouble. He had some gambling debts, and needed some cash. Call me soft or stupid but I didn’t want him to upset his mother, so I gave him some money and he left. By that time I was getting desperate to sell Raventhorn, but no one was interested in a decrepit castle with acres of forest, a loch and a few live-in ghosts. I didn’t know what to do, who to turn to, until I read an article about Sigmund Petersen and saw the photo of the runestone on his father’s farm. I knew then that I’d found the link I’d been looking for all these years between Harald and his homeland. I went over to North Jutland—’

Rosalie frowned. ‘I don’t remember you travelling to Denmark.’

‘I told you I was going to Orkney. I didn’t want anyone to know about Petersen. Anyway, I found the old farm and the runestone, researched Petersen’s genealogy in local parish records and the national archives in Copenhagen and found there was indeed a connection – albeit a tenuous one – with Harald Johansen’s lineage. I then contacted Sigmund Petersen and offered to sell him Raventhorn. He was my best chance. Not only was he rich but as a distant relation of Harald’s, I hoped he would be interested.’

He paused, turned to Rosalie and smiled. ‘He was.’

‘What about Lorna?’

‘She understood my reasons. You see, Lorna was a friend of your mother’s even before you came to live at Raventhorn. They met through her sister. It was Lorna who told your mother to come to Raventhorn.’

Geoff took hold of her hand. ‘Now, listen, Rosalie, you understand that you must be very careful. When he came to see me at the hospital, before my operation, Rupert mentioned a couple of nasty incidents you and Duncan had been involved in. Has anything else happened since?’

‘No, nothing,’ she lied. He was too frail to tell him the truth about her troubles.

Geoff blew a relieved breath. ‘That’s good. Listen, I have Tyler’s diary and other papers of your mother’s in a blue metal box on the work unit in the garage. The key is in the cupboard, Sellotaped to the underside of the bottom shelf. Give everything to the police. They’ll deal with Tyler.’

She nodded. ‘There’s one thing I don’t understand. If it was Tyler blackmailing you, then why didn’t he just ask for his diary back?’

‘Who knows? He is a criminal after all. He probably wanted to get as much as he could from me first, then he would have come for the diary.’ He relaxed against the pillows, closed his eyes. As if on cue, the nurse marched back into the room. ‘This time, that’s enough. Mr McBride, you will take your medication and go to sleep.’

There wasn’t a trace of a smile on her face when she turned to Rosalie. ‘And you will leave. He really must rest.’

Rosalie nodded. The nurse was right. Geoff looked drained and exhausted. ‘Yes, of course.’

She cast one last glance in his direction. He looked so frail, so vulnerable, so old. For years he had done everything in his power to protect her and her mother. Now it was her turn to keep him safe. She would find that brute Jake Tyler – the man she could never think of as her father – and the men he employed from his prison cell to blackmail Geoff, and she would show him that she wasn’t afraid.

She clenched her fists. Yes, she would show him.

The drive back to Raventhorn seemed interminable. The roads were dark and almost empty once she left Inverness behind. Motorists had obviously heeded the weather warnings for snow and gone home early. Fat snowflakes danced and swirled in the headlights, and she had to focus hard on the road when all she wanted to do was think about Geoff’s revelations about her mother … and father.

When she arrived at Raventhorn, she went straight into the garage and stood in front of the tool shelf. Among the screwdrivers, pincers, rolls of duct tape, half-open cans of car polish and rugs smelling of paint and turpentine, old driving gloves and spare parts covered in oil were several metal tool boxes, all reminders of the classic cars Geoff had lovingly restored and tended to for years.

She reached out for the blue box and placed it on the worktop before walking over to the cupboard, getting down on her knees and searching for the key, which Geoff had said was Sellotaped to the shelf. He really had taken a lot of precautions to make sure her mother’s papers were secure, she thought as she pulled off the tape and caught the small key in the palm of her hand.

She slipped it into her anorak pocket and tucked the box under her arm. She wanted to be in Raventhorn to open it, not in that cold, smelly garage. A dark and silent Raventhorn greeted her. Shivering with cold and nerves, she went up to the drawing room, and sat down on the rug with the box in front of her. The key was so tiny and her fingers shook so much it took several clumsy attempts to unlock the box. Holding her breath, she lifted the lid up and peered inside.

There wasn’t much – a few official documents and faded photos, an old passport, and a small diary bound in dark blue leather. That was all her mother had salvaged of her past after running away.

Half an hour later, she sat back on her heels, tears streaming down her face as her mother smiled at her from a faded photograph. Sophie looked so young, so happy and vibrant. So beautiful too. It must have been hard for her to deliberately sabotage her looks and make herself dull so that she could blend into the background. Erasing her looks and her past had been the price of her and her daughter’s safety.

From what Rosalie had managed to piece together from the various documents and certificates, her mother had grown up in South London, the only child of Mike and Angela Heart. She had studied art, English literature and history at her local college before attending East London Poly and graduating with a degree in art and design.

Rosalie touched the battered blue cover of her mother’s old passport. Tucked inside were a handful of photos of a baby girl – herself, presumably – and the couple from the graduation photo. Her grandparents.

She would make sure these photos were displayed as they should have been all these years. They would never be locked into that blue box ever again, and forgotten.

Her fingers toyed with the diary. She flicked through the pages covered in tight scribbles – dates, names, addresses. She leaned closer. How odd. Some of the names looked Russian. One in particular kept cropping up: Bazanov, Anatoly Bazanov. Was he, and the other Russians, associates of Tyler, or were they his victims?

Just touching the thing made her want to be sick. She didn’t want to have anything to do with Jake Tyler, the thug who had destroyed her mother and her family. She would give it to the police the following morning.

The whirring of a car engine followed by the screeching of tyres on the courtyard’s cobbles ripped through the silence. A car door slammed, and seconds later a hard fist pummelled the kitchen door.

‘Rosalie, open up. I know you’re in there,’ Rupert shouted from outside. ‘I’m warning you. If you don’t open this door right now, I’ll kick it in.’

He would be capable of doing it too! Rosalie looked around in a panic. She gathered the photos and documents, shoved them all back into the blue box, slapped the cover shut and turned the key in the lock. She slid the box under the large oak dresser, threw the key into one of the drawers and ran down to the kitchen where Rupert’s bulky silhouette was clearly visible through the door’s frosted glass panel.