A Class Apart

Ashley gave the driver her address in Onslow Square, and sensing their urgency, the driver sped along the M4 and arrived in South Kensington in a record seventeen minutes.

As they got out the driver handed the keys of the black Mercedes to Conrad. “Mr Arbrey-Nelmes thought you might have need of the car,” he said, and turned and walked off down the street.

Ashley rushed inside. Thank God Conrad had threatened to send her back to London, otherwise she might already have left her flat. It was empty, cold and rather cheerless, but she didn’t notice any of that. As she ran to the phone it started to ring. She snatched it up, but her fingers were shaking so badly she dropped it. Coming in behind her, Conrad picked it up and handed it to her.

“Hello!” she gasped.

“Ash! It’s me.”

“Ellamarie!”

“I called your office, they told me what happened . . .”

“Oh Ellamarie!”

“Ash, is there anything I can do? Please, let me help.”

“Yes, no . . .”

“Shall I come over?”

“Conrad’s here. I’m sorry, Ellamarie, I’ve got to ring off,” and banging her fingers against the connectors she cut the line. Quickly she dialled again.

“I’ll make some coffee,” said Conrad.

“I need something stronger than that,” she said as she waited for the connection. “Over there,” she waved her hand towards the drinks cabinet.

“Coffee,” said Conrad. “You’ll need a clear head,” and he walked into the kitchen.

She waited as the steady ringing tone came across the line. She counted how many times it rang. She must stay calm. Whatever she did, she must stay calm. Twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three.

Conrad came back into the room.

“He’s not at home,” said Ashley, and her face began to crumple.

Conrad took the receiver from her hand and placed it back on the telephone. Then, taking her in his arms, he whispered: “It’s all right. Don’t worry, we’ll find him.”

“But where is he? Why isn’t he answering?”

“Is there anywhere else he might have gone?”

“I don’t know, I just don’t know. I can’t think. His mother, maybe he’s gone to his mother.”

“Have you got her number?”

“In my diary.”

Conrad walked across the room and picked up her handbag which she had thrown on the floor as she had run into the flat.

But no, Keith wasn’t at his mother’s, and no, Mrs Mayne didn’t know where he was. She thought he was still in New York. Ashley didn’t explain why she was calling, she just asked Mrs Mayne to have Keith call her at her flat in London, should he get in touch.

Conrad handed her a cup of coffee, and taking her by the arm he led her over to a chair.

“What do we do now?” she said, looking up into his face.

“Is there anyone else you can call? Anyone else who might know where he is? What about your friends?”

Ashley shook her head. “Oh my God! Kate!” she said, suddenly remembering. She covered her face with her hands. “Dear God, what’s happening? Why is everything going so horribly wrong?”

“Hey, hey there,” he said, putting his arms round her. “We’ll find him. Don’t worry, I promise you we’ll find him. But for the time being we’re just going to have to wait.”

“But where is Alex? What if . . .” Her voice trailed off as she began to cry again.

“What about your folks?” Conrad suggested. “Do you think he might have taken him there?”

“No. But maybe I should ring them, just in case.” She went back to the phone. She was half through dialling when Conrad took it away from her.

“No,” he said. “No. We don’t want to worry them yet. If he’s not there, then they’ll want to know why you’re in London. There’s got to be a better way of contacting them.” He took her back to the chair again. Then walking back to the phone he picked it up and dialled a number. “Julian?”

“Conrad,” said Julian. “At last. Any news? Candice told me everything. Was the car waiting for you at the airport? How’s Ashley? Where is she?”

“She’s here. We’re at her apartment in Kensington.”

“Is she all right?”

“Yes, at least she will be. Look . . .”

“Is there anything I can do?”

“That’s just what I was going to ask you. Get on the phone to Ashley’s folks. Don’t tell them anything about what has happened. Just ask if Alex is back from New York yet because you’ve got a birthday present for him, and then ring me back here. I take it you’ve got the number.”

Julian allowed himself a quick grin at the irony in Conrad’s voice. “Yes, I’ve got the number. I’ll call you as soon as I know anything.”

Conrad walked back across the room to Ashley, and pulling her up into his arms he led her across to the settee, where he sat down with her for what was going to be a long night.

It turned out to be the longest night of all of their lives. Ashley, Jenneen, Ellamarie, and Kate.

Wiping her hand across her eyes she dialled the number. When the voice at the other end answered, in a halting voice she explained that she must speak with Bob McElfrey. It was very important.

It was a long wait, but she didn’t hang up. And eventually he was there.

“Bob,” she whispered.

There was a pause before he answered. “Ellamarie.”

She fought to keep her voice steady. “Bob, I must see you.” The tears were streaming silently down her face now. “I have to see you.”

“Ellamarie, I thought we’d said all there was to say.”

The tears threatened to drown her voice. “We said so little,” she stammered. And when he didn’t answer she cried: “Oh Bob, why did you walk away like that?”

He sounded impatient. “Look, I can’t talk now.”

Ellamarie looked down at the letter that was lying on the floor beside her. She picked it up and turned it over in her hand. “I saw the interview,” she said. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why did you let me find out like that?”

Bob glanced over his shoulder and saw that Linda was coming towards him. He thought quickly. “Look, meet me at the mews house,” he said, thinking that if he said the mews house he could arrange for Linda to ring him there, which meant he could get away quickly.

“What time?”

He looked at his watch. “In an hour,” he said. “It won’t take long will it?” He shook his head to show his exasperation, then smiled as he slipped an arm around Linda.

“No,” said Ellamarie, “it won’t ta . . .” but he had already rung off.

Ashley was much calmer now, though her face was white, and haggard with worry. Whenever she looked at Conrad it made his heart wrench to see the look in her eyes. It was as if she were asking him, almost begging him, to make it all right. He went to sit beside her and took her hand.

“I had a feeling,” she said, after a minute or two. “I knew something was going to happen. And then I thought, when you told me about Mercer Burgess, that that was what it had been – the feeling. That that was what was going to go wrong. But now . . . Oh Conrad, where do you think he’s taken him? Where are they?”

“I wish I could answer that,” he said. “But we’ll find them, I promise you, we’ll find them.”

“You don’t really think . . . Keith wouldn’t . . .” and she started to cry again.

He wiped the tears from her cheeks, and kissed her. “No,” he said, “no, he wouldn’t. He loves Alex.”

Ashley felt so tired, but she mustn’t sleep. What if Alex needed her? She must be there, she must stay awake. But Conrad’s hands were so soothing, and his voice so calm. She listened to him breathing, and tried to breathe in time with him.

Conrad looked down at her and saw her eyelids flickering as she fell into a doze. He bent his head and brushed his lips against her hair, then laid his head back against the cushions. He stared up at the ceiling knowing that there would be no sleep for him. This was a position he had never found himself in before, where something was beyond his control, and he didn’t like it. The feeling made him uneasy, and the frustration made him angry. He couldn’t understand a man who could do this to his own son.

Suddenly the telephone crashed into the silence. Ashley sat up with a start and looked at Conrad. He was watching her face, and he could see that she was afraid.

“Would you like me to answer?”

She shook her head. “No. If Keith knows that you’re here, then . . . no, I’ll go.”

She got up and walked to the phone. Her hand was shaking as she reached out to pick it up.

“Hello.”

“Ashley.”

“Keith, where are you?”

“I told you not to come.”

“Where’s Alex? What have you done to him? Where is he? Is he all right?”

“Yes, he’s all right. He’s here, with me.”

“Where are you?”

“Not far,” he said. “I have to give you credit for getting to London so quickly, Ashley. My mother told me you’d phoned.”

“Your mother? Is that where you are?”

“No.”

“Then where are you, Keith? Please, tell me where you are.”

“Did you read my letter?”

“Yes, I read it. You don’t mean those things, Keith, you know you don’t. You can’t hurt him, he’s only a baby. You can’t use him like this. Please, tell me where you are. Let me come and get him.”

“I told you, Ashley, you’re not having him back. You’re not taking him to New York.”

“All right,” she said. “All right. Anything. If that’s what you want, I won’t take him to New York. He can stay here, only don’t hurt him. Please, promise me you won’t hurt him.”

“He’s my son, Ashley, something I seem to have to keep reminding you of.”

“Then you didn’t mean all those things you said in the letter?”

“I meant them. If you try to take him back with you, then I’ll do it.”

“But I’ve already said, I won’t take him away. I’ll do anything, Keith, anything, only say you won’t hurt him. Where is he? Can I speak to him?”

“He’s asleep right now.”

“Has he asked for me? Oh Keith, how could you do this? How could you do it?”

“I’ve done it because I love him. Because I care about him and what happens to him. Because he’s my son, and I want him here with me.”

“I understand how you’re feeling, Keith, believe me I do. I know you love him, and he loves you. But he’s my son too, I wouldn’t do anything to harm him, you know I wouldn’t. I only want what’s best for him.”

“And I think it’s best for him to stay here in England, with me. You’ve got a career now, Ashley. You chose that career. No one asked you to go to New York. No one asked you to give up your son and go to New York. It was your decision, and now you’re going to have to pay the price. I told you, I want my son, and I’m going to have him.”

“But Keith . . .”

“You’re no good as a mother, Ashley. You failed, a long time ago.”

“Oh Keith,” she cried. “Please don’t do this to me. Please stop. Just let me see him. Just let me see that he is all right. I won’t try to take him away, I promise. I just need to see him. Tell me where you are, please. I’ll come right away.”

“I told you, he’s sleeping.”

“I won’t wake him. I won’t even touch him, I just want to see him. Please, Keith. I’m begging you, please, please let me see him.”

“Who knows about this? Who have you told?”

“No one, I promise you, no one.”

“Are you alone now?”

“Yes. Please, please say that I can see him. Give me the address, I’ll come straight over.”

“No.”

“Keith!” she called. “Keith, please. I am begging you. Please! I just want to see that he’s all right. Nothing else, nothing more. I just want to see him. Please, Keith, please . . .” She began to sob.

“I’m at my brother’s flat in Fulham,” he said at last. “Make sure you come on your own. You haven’t told the police, have you? It will only be the worse for you if you have.”

“No, I haven’t told the police. I’ll come alone. I promise. What’s the address?” Conrad was beside her with pen and paper.

“Are you sure there’s no one there with you?”

“Yes, I’m sure,” she answered, looking at Conrad.

“This doesn’t mean that you are taking him away with you tonight, you understand that, don’t you?”

“Yes, I understand. I told you, I only want to see him. To see for myself that he’s all right.”

“Tomorrow I will get a court order that says he remains in this country, at least until the whole thing is settled. So there’s no point in trying anything fancy.”

Her heart lurched, and she fought hard not to cry again. “The address, Keith. Give me the address.”

As he spoke she wrote quickly. “I’ll be over right away. And Keith.”

“Yes?”

“You will be there, won’t you?”

“We’ll be here,” and he hung up.

She put down the receiver and pressed her hands to her cheeks. “The car,” she said, not looking at Conrad. “Can I use the car?”

“I’ll drive you.”

“No. He said I must go alone.”

“I am not letting you go alone. Here, put your coat on.”

“No. Conrad, please. I promised him. I said I would go alone. Wait here for me. Please.”

“You can go in alone. I’ll wait in the car, somewhere along the street if necessary, but you’re not going alone, Ashley. Now put your coat on.”

She didn’t argue further, she would only be wasting valuable time.

It was a dear night, and the roads were practically empty. It took them no time at all to get to Fulham, though to Ashley it felt like a lifetime.

Keith’s brother’s flat was at the top of an old Victorian building, with no intercom system. Ashley pushed the bell and waited. Finally she heard Keith’s footsteps coming along the hall, and then he was opening the door. Pushing past him she flew up the stairs. Keith turned and ran after her, only managing to overtake her as she was going into the flat.

“Where is he?” she cried. “Let me see him. Let me go to him.”

“Mummy!” Alex called.

Ashley turned round and saw her son standing in the hall. “Alex!” she gasped, and ran to him. “Oh Alex! My darling. My baby. Are you all right?”

“Sure I’m all right, Mum,” he said, bewildered and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Oh darling, so am I.” So am I. She looked up at Keith. He was still standing in the doorway, watching them. “You know none of this was necessary,” she said. “You didn’t have to do this to him.”

Keith turned away and walked into the sitting room. Ashley took Alex’s hand and they followed him inside.

Outside Conrad got out of the car and began to walk up and down the street. He glanced up at the window from time to time, but the curtains were pulled and there was no sign of life.

Keith was standing with his back to the window, his arms folded. Ashley kept her arm round Alex and looked at him.

“So it’s all over, Ash,” he said, very quietly. “At last, it’s all over.”

She shook her head. “What do you mean? What’s over?”

“You, me, Alex. It’s over.”

“You mean you’re going to let me take him?”

“I mean that you lied. I mean that Conrad Frazier is down there in the street. Conrad Frazier, all the way from New York. You lied to me, Ashley. Did you really think I was such a fool? I saw you pull up outside. You think you’re going to take him with you, don’t you? You think you’re going to take him away and back to New York.”

“No,” she cried. “No. I told you, I just wanted to see him.”

“You’re a liar, Ashley.” His voice was still calm. “I might have believed you, but Conrad, here in England, only confirms what you intend to do. What you think you intend to do. It might have been all right, Ashley. It might all have worked out. But you cheated on me. You said you were alone, when all the time you were with him.” He began to shake his head. “Why did you have to lie?”

“You would never have let me see him if I’d told you the truth. Please try and understand, Keith. All I was thinking about was Alex.”

“All you were thinking about was yourself.” He looked down at Alex, and then lifted his eyes back to Ashley. “You’re not going to have him, Ashley, so whatever you’re thinking you can get it out of your head now. You’ll never take him away from me again, that I promise you. You have sealed his fate, and mine, and yours. You should never have come here with Conrad. It was your biggest mistake yet.”

Ashley felt Alex press his little body against her, and she held him closer. “Keith, stop talking like that. Can’t you see what it’s doing to Alex? Don’t you care what it’s doing to him?”

Keith turned to his son. “Alex, go into the bedroom.”

Alex’s small face was round with fear, and he clutched at Ashley.

“No,” said Ashley. “No. Can’t you see he’s frightened?”

“Alex,” Keith said again. “Go into the bedroom. Nothing’s going to happen to you. Just go into the bedroom. I want to talk to your mother alone.”

Alex looked up at Ashley. “Do I have to, Mummy?”

Ashley looked down into his face and her heart turned over. She looked back at Keith, and then again at Alex. “Do as Daddy says, darling. I’ll come in to you in a minute.”

Very reluctantly Alex let go of his mother’s hand, and walked out of the room. Ashley watched him go, and Keith watched Ashley.

When he had gone Ashley turned to face Keith. He unfolded his arms and started to walk across the room towards the fire. His voice was quiet as he spoke and she had to strain her ears to hear him. “You’re wondering just what it is that I’m going to do, to prove to you how much my son means to me.” He stopped walking, but he didn’t turn round. “I would have done it anyway, if I’d had to. But I’m glad you’re here. It’ll make more sense with you here.”

Ashley watched him, afraid to speak.

He reached up to a shelf above the fire and took down a small parcel. He unwrapped it slowly, his hands quite steady, and as the wrapping fell to the floor, he turned to face her.

Her eyes rounded with horror as she saw what he was holding. “No!” she whispered. “No, Keith.”

He looked down at the gun and turned it over in his hands.

“What, what are you going to . . . to do?”

“What I said I’d do if you tried to take him away.”

She shook her head, feeling a wave of panic rising in her, so strong it was blinding her. Her heart thumped against her ribs, pounding, irregular and unnatural. And as she tried to speak her voice felt strangled by her own throat. “No! You can’t do it. He’s only a child, he’s got his whole life in front of him. Keith, he’s your son, for God’s sake, I thought you loved him.”

Conrad was still pacing up and down outside. He rubbed his fingers against his eyes and looked at his watch. Somebody came out of a nearby house and started to walk down the street towards him. The man gave him a suspicious look. Conrad nodded to him, and then looked up at the window.

Still there was nothing to see so he turned to walk on. It was cold and the sky was alight with stars and a near full moon. He pulled his coat tighter round him as the wind started to pick up. It was then that he heard the scream. He froze, and as he started to turn his head back to the window, he heard the gunshot.

“Ashley,” he breathed, and started to run. There was a second shot. “Ashley!” he yelled as he ran in through the door.

Several seconds later another shot was fired, and then there was silence.

Ellamarie didn’t answer.

He turned away and went to stand beside his desk. Any minute now the phone would ring and he could get away. He closed his eyes and willed Linda not to wait any longer. Finally he said: “Look, I’ve said I’m sorry about the interview, I didn’t mean for you to find out like that, but it’s done now, and you would have found out in the end anyway.”

“Does that mean you weren’t going to tell me yourself?” Ellamarie looked up at him, her face red and swollen, still wet with tears.

He looked away.

“Does that mean you weren’t going to tell me yourself?” she repeated.

A siren blasted into the night and Bob pulled back the curtain to look outside.

Ellamarie yelled: “Does that mean you . . .”

“Yes!” He swung round to face her. “If that’s what you want me to say, then yes. That is what it means.”

Ellamarie eyed him, pain darkening her eyes. “How could you? How could you?”

“What else could I do?” he shouted. “For Christ’s sake, I didn’t know it was going to happen like that. Anyway, I told you, it’s over. For me and you, it’s over, Ellamarie. Stop hurting yourself like this, stop making me say it.”

“To make it easier for you? Is that what you want?”

“Yes. And for you too.”

“Does your wife know I’m pregnant, Bob? Did you tell her, or shall we wait for that to hit the news too?”

“You wouldn’t!” he gasped.

“Wouldn’t what? Tell the world that you made me pregnant at the same time as you made your wife pregnant, then ran out on me? Wouldn’t I do it, Bob? Wouldn’t I?”

“You couldn’t! And for all I know, that child you’re carrying isn’t even . . .”

“You bastard!” she screamed. “Say it! Go on, say it! Isn’t even yours, that’s what you were going to say, isn’t it? No, it’s the bastard of a rapist, it couldn’t possibly be the child of the great Bob McElfrey. And that’s just what you’d do, isn’t it, Bob? You’d tell the whole world that I was raped, and that I got pregnant straight after. That’s what you’d do, isn’t it?”

His eyes were cold. “If you force me to.”

She threw herself at him, screaming and beating her fists against his chest. He caught her by the arms and pushed her back onto the settee. “Stop this, Ellamarie. You’re making a fool of yourself.”

“Making a fool of myself?” she screamed. “Well, that’s nothing to what you’ve made of me, Bob McElfrey. Do you know where I went before I came here? Do you? I went to the theatre, and they were throwing the scripts for Twelfth Night into the garbage, just like you’re trying to do with me.”

“Shut up, Ellamarie. Do you have to dramatise everything? I thought you got me here because you wanted to talk . . .”

“I got you here for one thing, and one thing only.”

Looking at her now, Bob wondered how he could do this to someone he loved.

“I’m going to kill you, you bastard. I’m going to kill you for what you’ve done to me.”

As he saw her snatch the gun from her bag he leapt across the room towards her. But he was too late. The sound reverberated around the room and he clutched his hands to his chest as his knees started to buckle beneath him. He rolled over, groaning in agony. “Ellamarie!” he gasped. “Ellamarie.”

Ellamarie gazed down at him in horror. The gun slipped through her fingers and landed with a thud on the floor. She began moving her head from side to side. “Oh Bob,” she whispered. “Oh my God, Bob! Bob!”

Sobbing, she threw herself down beside him. She could hear the air bubbling in his lungs. She was so afraid, she could only cling to him. After a minute she felt his hand, weak and trembling, running over her hair. She lifted her head to look into his face. He was watching her. “I loved you. Didn’t you know that?” he murmured.

“No,” she moaned. “No, you can’t tell me that now.” He gasped as she pulled him to her again. “Why? Oh Bob, why?”

“I didn’t know any other way.” He closed his eyes and his head fell back against the floor.

“Bob!” she screamed. “Bob! Don’t die. You can’t die now. We can work this out. If you still love me, then we can work it out. Bob!”

His eyelids flickered, and it was with great effort that he managed to take a breath. His lips were moving, and she lowered her ear to listen, but the sound of the telephone shrilling into the room drowned his words.

She squeezed her eyes shut tightly in an effort not to listen. She didn’t want to think about the murder. Not now.

Using the bannister as a steadying guide she continued up the stairs, trying to ignore the fear that had crept its way into her heart.

Finally she reached the door at the top. She hesitated a moment not knowing what to do. She looked around the empty hallway – it offered no encouragement. The telephone began to ring inside the flat, making her jump. She listened as it continued to ring, but no one answered. The door downstairs slammed and as abruptly the ringing stopped.

Silence.

Slowly, she lifted her hand and knocked. The dull sound echoed along the hallway.

She looked around again. She was quite alone. Fumbling in her bag, she pulled out a key. As she slid it into the lock, her heart began to pound. All she wanted to do was run away.

The door clicked open and she stepped through. The flat was in darkness despite the bright sunlight outside. All the curtains were pulled.

She called out, loudly, but there was no reply.

Edging her way down the hall she came to a halt outside the bedroom door. She pushed her hand against it, then realizing that her deliberate movements were making her more nervous, she pushed it sharply and stepped inside. The room was empty.

She swallowed hard, and looked around. The curtains were closed in here too.

She turned back into the hall. A few more steps and she was in the kitchen. She called out again, but still there was no reply.

The window was open and a cat suddenly leapt from the sill and landed on the floor in front of her.

Catching her breath and trying to ignore, the violent beating of her heart, she stooped to stroke it.

Suddenly the phone began to ring again, and putting the cat onto a chair, she walked to the sitting room to answer it. Unafraid now, the telephone giving her the sense of another presence in the flat, she pushed open the door.

And then she screamed – and screamed and screamed. And the phone rang – and rang and rang.

She fell against the wall, sobbing and retching, covering her face with her hands, unable to look. The phone continued to ring. She could barely manage to lift it, her hands were shaking so violently.

“Hello? Hello?” said an urgent voice at the other end. “Ellamarie, are you there?”

“Ashley! Oh God, Ashley!”

“Jenneen? Is that you?”

“Yes, it’s me,” Jenneen sobbed. “Ashley! Oh my God, Ashley!”

“Jenneen, what is it? What’s happened? I heard the news, I’ve been trying to get in touch. What’s happened?”

“It’s Ellamarie.”

Ashley’s voice was shrill. “What’s happened, Jenneen? Tell me, what’s happened?”

“Oh God,” Jenneen sobbed. “She’s dead. Ashley, she’s dead.”