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Second to Cry Page 19


  Aiden walked over to Betty and handed her one of the cups of coffee from out of the cardboard holder.

  ‘Good morning, Betty.’ His smile for her was genuine.

  ‘Morning, Mr Connelly. Oh my, you shouldn’t have!’ She looked at the coffee as though he had just handed her a twelve-carat diamond. Then her expression of appreciation faltered slightly and she glanced at him with unmasked concern in her old eyes.

  ‘Is this?’ She pondered how to proceed with her question for fear of appearing ungrateful.

  ‘Don’t worry, Betty, its decaf.’ He laid a friendly hand upon her shoulder and felt her tense. Betty didn’t like any interaction which wasn’t formal. Removing his hand, Aiden headed into the office, thankful that Edmond was a man as he seemed only capable of annoying women at the moment.

  ‘Good morning, traveller!’ Edmond’s voice boomed from his desk. ‘How was the city?’

  ‘It was great,’ Aiden answered lamely, not wanting to divulge too much information about his trip. He placed a coffee on his own desk and then took the final one over to Edmond.

  ‘Ooh, fresh coffee!’ Edmond smiled broadly. ‘You should go away more often if this is how I’m treated when you get back!’ The older man chuckled to himself, resting his hands upon his ample belly which provided a more than adequate rest for them.

  ‘And I got you this,’ Aiden reached into his suit pocket and retrieved a bar of biscotti biscuit which he threw over towards Edmond.

  ‘Just don’t tell Betty,’ he warned Edmond.

  ‘You’re a good lad!’ Edmond was already eagerly removing the wrapping from the biscuit. Aiden felt a little guilty about having bought it, Betty was forever keeping a vigil about what Edmond ate since the doctor had warned him about high cholesterol. But despite the medic’s warning, Edmond remained undeterred and as keen to indulge his sweet tooth as ever.

  ‘I’d rather die fat and happy than live to be a hundred, skinny and miserable,’ he’d say to anyone who questioned his dietary choices.

  It made Aiden think that so much emphasis was put on the quantity of someone’s life when it was the quality that truly mattered.

  ‘So, tell me about your trip,’ Edmond asked between mouthfuls, crumbs falling and settling upon his navy tie, which would be all the evidence Betty would need to point to fingers when she next came in the office.

  ‘I’d love to but I’ve got someone waiting for me outside.’ Aiden sighed, though he was now actually thankful of the excuse to side-line the conversation.

  ‘Oh, who?’ Edmond finished the biscuit and, glancing down, noticed the medley of crumbs. With one foul swoop he had dusted them away. Betty would be none the wiser.

  ‘Deena Fern.’

  ‘Oh, Miss December herself,’ Edmond chortled. ‘What does she want with you?’

  ‘I’ve no idea,’ Aiden lied. He had a good inclination exactly what Deena Fern wanted to discuss with him.

  ‘How’s the paternity case coming along?’ Edmond’s tone was serious now as the conversation veered over in to professional territory.

  ‘It’s getting there.’

  ‘Is there even a case?’

  ‘I’m not sure yet,’ Aiden admitted truthfully.

  ‘I hope you’re conducting yourself professionally through all of this,’ Edmond said gravely, straightening in his chair, his brow furrowed.

  ‘Of course!’ Aiden insisted.

  ‘Because your client is Samuel Fern, not his wife Deena. Yet she keeps turning up here, demanding to see you. I’d hate to see you do something stupid like not respect a client’s confidentiality and get yourself disbarred.’

  ‘I’m on top of everything, Edmond, don’t worry.’

  ‘I can’t help but worry,’ Edmond sighed wearily. ‘You’re such a decent guy, Aiden. Possibly one of the best guys I know. But you’ve an innate desire to do the right thing and a weakness for damsels in distress. I’d hate to see either of those attributes get the better of you.’

  ‘Honestly, everything is fine,’ Aiden reassured his colleague, aware that nothing was fine.

  ‘Okay, well you’d best go. It’s bad to keep a lady waiting! I’d offer you the office but I’ve got calls lined up all morning,’ Edmond added apologetically.

  ‘No problem.’ Aiden picked up his coffee and headed back in to the waiting area.

  Deena looked up expectantly from her phone which her perfectly manicured fingernails had been furiously typing into.

  ‘You wanted to talk to me?’ Aiden towered above her as he delivered the question, one hand holding his coffee, the other shoved into the pocket of his suit trousers.

  ‘Yes. Is there somewhere more private?’ Deena looked directly across at Betty as she made the request and the elderly woman flinched at the rudeness of the gesture.

  ‘The bakery across the street is usually quiet at this time.’ Aiden suggested, nodding towards the glass windows and beyond them, the bakery.

  Deena glanced out and appeared hesitant.

  ‘How quiet?’

  ‘Quiet enough,’ Aiden clarified.

  Deena sighed and stood up by way of agreement and followed Aiden out of the office, across the street and into the bakery. She ordered herself a skinny latte whilst Aiden still had his coffee and they sat at the back of the small dining area.

  There was one other patron, an elderly man who was reading the paper whilst nursing a pot of tea. He was sat far enough away from them that if they kept their voices low he wouldn’t hear them.

  ‘So what can I do for you?’

  ‘Do you remember what we discussed, about Davis?’ Deena asked, her voice low and fearful.

  ‘You mean about Brandon White being his father? Yeah, I remember,’ Aiden answered casually.

  ‘Yes, about that, have you told anyone?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Don’t be cute. Have you told anyone?’ Deena seemed nervous as she spoke, her fingers running nervously up and down the sides of the glass which held her hot drink.

  ‘Last time we spoke you were confident that I wouldn’t tell anyone,’ Aiden challenged, taking a sip of his coffee and enjoying the warmth as it coated his throat.

  ‘Yes, but…’ Deena sighed in desperation, unable to find the right words.

  ‘Yes, but… You manipulated my feelings for a close friend in order to protect yourself,’ Aiden continued the sentence for her.

  She looked across at him, her eyes darting across his face, trying to read him. Beneath the table he could hear her flip-flopped foot smacking against the tiled floor of the bakery as her leg twitched nervously.

  ‘Have you told anyone?’ she asked again.

  ‘You were so sure I wouldn’t,’ he countered.

  ‘This is serious. I need to know if you told anyone.’

  ‘Why the sudden interest? Worried you misread me and that perhaps I put my professional feelings ahead of my private ones?’

  ‘I know you went to Chicago,’ Deena blurted. ‘It doesn’t take a genius to figure out why you went.’

  Aiden wasn’t sure what to say. He eyed Deena cautiously, unsure if this was just another trick to try and entrap him.

  ‘So I imagine you told her and, in so doing, she now has the potential to ruin me, which I’m sure she will. After all, she must want to get back at me for sleeping with her husband.’ A pool of tears collected within Deena’s eyes as she spoke.

  Aiden stayed silent for a moment, not wanting to trust Deena’s apparent despair. But he watched her panicky movements, her chest rising and falling in quick breaths and became sure that she was genuinely terrified.

  ‘Brandy doesn’t have a malicious bone in her body,’ he eventually spoke, shrugging lightly. ‘She won’t say anything, I can promise you that.’

  Deena’s shoulders lowered at this, some of the tension releasing from her body.

  ‘How can you be sure?’

  ‘Because she’s better than you,’ Aiden told her flatly. ‘She’s better than anyone I kn
ow…’ his voice trailed off as he tried to suppress his feelings for Brandy. He needed to remain focused.

  ‘So that just leaves you, will you tell my husband?’ Deena’s eyes were big and begging.

  ‘Doesn’t he deserve to know the truth?’ Aiden asked.

  Deena trembled at the suggestion and shook her head.

  ‘He’d take everything from us,’ she whispered. ‘He’d disown Davis and then my son suffers. He loses his home, his brother, everything he knows. I know I made a mistake, Mr Connelly, I hold my hands up to that, but my son shouldn’t have his life ruined because of it.’

  Aiden thought of Davis Fern. The sweet little boy he had met at the Fern mansion. He was admittedly the complete opposite of his older brother, but he was just a child and he was innocent.

  Taking a sip from his coffee, Aiden pondered on Brandy’s reaction to the news. She had understandably been upset and shaken, but then her warm spirit had shone through, the spirit which drew Aiden to her like a moth to an open flame. She had kindly asked after the boy, wanted to know what he was like. Aiden knew that Brandy would be distressed if Davis’ life was ruined because of her deceased husband. She had a big-enough heart to only care for the child’s wellbeing, even when he wasn’t her own. Aiden never ceased to admire just how good a person she could be in the face of such overwhelming adversity.

  ‘So,’ Deena prompted him, growing increasingly nervous. Her nails drummed lightly against the glass and she met Aiden’s gaze.

  Deena’s voice was weak but there was a desperation to it which meant that her question needed an answer. She looked Aiden square in the eye and asked, ‘Will you keep my secret?’

  ‘I was hired to uncover the truth about Davis’ paternity,’ Aiden said resolutely.

  ‘Go ahead then,’ Deena spat angrily at him. ‘Have my son take the test and ruin his life! Have that upon your shoulders!’

  ‘I’m just…trying to do the right thing,’ Aiden admitted helplessly.

  ‘Doing the right thing would be to keep my secret! So…will you keep it?’ Deena pressed again.

  Chapter Ten

  A Secret Shared

  Aiden could already see the headlines if the news of Davis’ paternal father leaked out. The murder trial which followed Brandon’s death had already been a huge draw for both local and national media. The dramatic conclusion when Father West finally admitted to the crime he had committed had been sensationalized. Avalon had briefly been turned in to a circus with reporters on every corner, speaking urgently into the camera. If the world knew that Brandon had fathered a child with an ex-Playmate who was married to a local millionaire, the crazy media frenzy would inevitably start up again.

  And Brandy’s name would be pulled into it all, pulling her down into yet another quicksand of scandal.

  Aiden imagined the unscrupulous reporters turning up at Chez Vous, even at her home, pushing a microphone in to her face and asking cruelly direct questions.

  ‘How does it feel to know your husband cheated?’

  ‘Will you meet the boy?’

  ‘Do you resent the child?’

  ‘Does it make you glad your husband was murdered?’

  It wouldn’t be fair for Brandy to have to suffer that after she’d already had to face so much.

  In the light of the recent revelations besmirching his already staggeringly flawed character, Aiden found himself glad that Brandon White wasn’t around. Despite not knowing the man, he already resented him for the trail of cruelty and despair he had left in his wake during his brief lifetime.

  Brandy never spoke about her feelings over Brandon being gone. He thought that she was perhaps too close to the entire situation to see that she was far better off now that he was gone. After all, she had loved him once and strong feelings of that nature have a tendency to endure. But then he had treated her horrifically… Who knew what her feelings were.

  ‘Mr Connelly?’ Deena asked nervously from across the table. She had now nearly finished her drink but her nails continued to tap anxiously upon the glass.

  ‘Sorry, my head was somewhere else,’ Aiden apologized, not enjoying how fatigue had dulled his senses and made it frighteningly easy for him to just slip off into the confides of his own mind.

  ‘I asked if you’d keep my secret,’ Deena reminded him, gently nudging him for a response.

  ‘Yes,’ Aiden answered promptly, thinking it unfair to keep her waiting on an answer which would impact on her entire life. He knew he risked professional ruin in keeping quiet, but Edmond’s observations had been astute. Aiden’s desire to do the right thing could outweigh everything else, especially if there was a desperate woman involved.

  Deena sighed with relief and smiled warmly at him, though her hands continued to fidget through nerves.

  ‘I will keep your secret,’ Aiden clarified. ‘Only because it wouldn’t benefit Davis for the truth to come out and, ultimately, his wellbeing is what is most important.’

  He declined to mention that his desire to protect Brandy from further scandal was a more potent contributing factor.

  ‘Thank you much,’ Deena gushed appreciatively. ‘You’re such a good man. And oddly noble for a lawyer.’

  Aiden smiled but, inwardly, flinched at the compliment. It was far too reminiscent of the label Brandy was always bestowing upon him. He was so often told what a good man he was but he didn’t feel it himself.

  Each time he was told that he was a good man, his mind would return to that fateful night when Justin had died, a painful reminder that, when it mattered most, Aiden had failed to do the right thing and it had cost his dear friend his life.

  ‘Right, I’m heading off,’ Justin slurred his words as he gave a mock bow to his motley crew of his friends.

  ‘Already?’ Alex, the tallest of the guys, asked, sounding disappointed.

  ‘He’s going to see a girl,’ Aiden had said knowingly, the liquor in his system making his mouth feel too small for his tongue and he struggled to get the words out.

  ‘Are you?’ John piped up with interest.

  ‘None of your business,’ Justin told them cockily, smirking to himself.

  ‘He’s seeing a girl,’ Aiden said again.

  ‘Who is it?’ John asked. Then he took another swig from the bottle of vodka they were passing around and his head sunk to his chest.

  ‘A gentleman never tells!’ Justin was standing amongst them, making dramatic gestures but wavering on his own feet, unable to maintain his balance.

  ‘You’re no gentleman!’ Alex scoffed. He was now smoking, savouring the heady mist which formed around him.

  ‘Point!’ Justin turned and winked at Alex, but the gesture was over the top, as though a pantomime dame had done it.

  ‘It’s Lara Shim, Sim, Spink...’ Justin couldn’t pronounce her surname.

  ‘Lara Simpkins,’ Aiden finished the name for him.

  ‘I’ve heard shesh easy,’ Alex nodded in approval.

  ‘Exactly!’ Justin laughed and then clumsily snatched the bottle away from John and took a prolonged drink from it. He was so intoxicated that he obviously no longer felt the burn from the vodka as it slid down his throat.

  ‘You driving?’ Aiden asked, still finding it difficult to speak.

  ‘Yep!’ Justin hiccupped. ‘Best way to get a girl’s pants off is to arrive on the bike!’

  Alex glanced out of the window. It took a moment for his drunken mind to notice the various splatters of rain drops decorating the pane of glass.

  They had all congregated in the small shed at the bottom of Alex’s garden. It had been adapted into a makeshift den, comprising of a couple of bean bags, a boom box and various nude posters. It was convenient enough, and they’d use it more if Alex didn’t live so far out of town. His parents lived in a really rural area and usually, after a session in the shed, they’d all stay there the night to sleep off the effects of the alcohol.

  ‘It’s raining,’ Alex noted. Had he been sober he would have noticed two h
ours earlier, when faint drips started to filter through the flimsy wooden roof.

  Justin turned and looked at the window and nodded.

  ‘Yes, it is.’

  Aiden was so drunk that the small shed had begun to spin, as though turning on its own axis. Each time he focused on a wall it rose up and then pivoted around him, like he was on a carousel. He groaned and put his head between his legs, wanting the spinning to stop.

  ‘Looks like Connelly will be the firsht to puke,’ Justin laughed.

  But he was wrong. In the far corner John began to throw up. The sound of him heaving temporarily blocked out the patter of the rain upon the roof.

  ‘You guys are gross! I’m out of here!’ Justin pulled on his jacket and walked towards the door, taking careful, deliberate steps as though he were walking on the moon. He opened the small door and wind and rain came spilling in, burning them with its freshness.

  Aiden looked over at the door and at Justin standing within it, silhouetted against the moon and appearing larger than life, like a movie star on the cinema screen. Justin saluted his friends and then went out into the night. It was the last time Aiden saw him alive.

  The following morning the three friends were woken by someone pounding upon the shed door. Aiden winced at the sound and then recoiled at the sunlight burning in through the window. The small space stank of stale vomit and sweat which made him want to heave afresh but he had nothing left to release. After John’s display, Aiden had also commenced being sick, just as Justin had predicted.

  ‘What the—’ Alex also came to life, struggling to find his bearings. He stumbled up and went over to the door which sounded as though it were being smacked off its hinges. The noise was unbearable and each knock pierced through Aiden’s skull.

  Alex struggled with the latch but eventually opened the door, filling the room with even more bright morning light. All three boys shielded their eyes and turned away, longing for the darkness of the night like vampires.

  ‘Sorry to wake you guys up.’ It was Alex’s father at the door. He never normally apologized for waking them up. Usually he kicked the door and lamented at their lack of focus. He’d remind them of how when he was their age he was serving their country in a war. But this morning he looked sombre and looked at each of their faces with a sadness which stung Aiden and immediately forced clarity to his mind. He knew upon looking at Mr Stephenson that something was wrong.