Chapter 6: Family matters
The terraced house is Victorian or Edwardian, and is similar to a lot of brick-built slate roofed houses in other Home Counties villages. They were built originally for tied farm workers, but those labourers were no longer needed after mechanisation. The terraced cottages are narrow, two-up, two-down, most with two-storey extensions out the back to include a modern kitchen below and a bathroom and or third bedroom above. I had spotted the extensions on my earlier recce and noticed several houses also had small very similar conservatories built on the back of the extensions.
It's Polly-Jo who answers the door, almost speechless with surprise and joy at seeing her favourite swimming coach.
"Daddy-Dan!" she squeals putting her hands up to her mouth, "Come on in! Come on in, please!" She holds out both her hands and I respond by holding out mine. She pulls me in, Agnes following immediately behind. I glance at her, Agnes is back smiling again. Children smiling is naturally infectious whether you are a parent or not.
"Mum! Mum!" She shouts down the hall as she pulls me long with one hand now holding mine in a vice-like grip, "you'll never guess who has come visit!"
'Mum?' I think, instantly on my guard. If her mother Josie's here, does this mean that was Marty Wheelwright here too? Was he lying in wait for us, or was I about to catch him cold? Unfortunately, I am unarmed, we had left the 'tools' in the motor in response to Freddie's relied on all-clear signal. I silently motion Agnes to stay back with my free hand. I want her out of the way if there was going to be a fire-fight. Damn, my twins were inside already and now I regret not marching up to the house, tooled up at the outset.
Pulling me with one hand and skipping with joy, Polly-Jo throws open the door to the sitting room and drags me through.
"Mummy!" Polly-Jo cries, "this is my coach, Daddy-Dan!"
The twins were playing with some toys on the floor in front of the newly lit fireplace, the kindling burning fiercely and the coals just starting to catch, but the twins were already up on their feet and running into my arms, crying "Daddy!"
Sitting close together on the two-seater settee are Freddie and Polly. Sitting very closely together in fact and holding hands. Freddie grins at me, remaining seated, but Polly jumps up in shock.
"Daddy? Danny?" she says, "is that really you? What's going on?" One hand has gone to her mouth, the other still held firmly by Freddie.
"Is Marty here?" I snarl at her from the centre of the room. She reacts like she's been struck and almost sits down again, struggling to maintain her balance.
"No ... no, of course not, we never see him at all. I doubt he even knows where we live." she says, her eyes brimming over with tears. She is still holding Freddie's hand. "Why does PJ call you 'Daddy', Dan?"
"Where's your sister Josie, then?" I demand, pushing aside her question.
"She ... Josie passed away, in Turkey, about ten years ago ... ten years last June."
"So, you've looked after your niece, ever since?"
"She's not my niece, Daniel, she's my ... she's ... our daughter." As she speaks, Freddie tugs her by the hand and pulls her down to sit back next to him and puts his arm comfortingly around her.
I am confused, she surely can't mean that Polly-Jo is Polly and Freddie's daughter, as Freddie is twelve years younger than us and from Lancashire not London. How would they have met without me knowing? No, that can't be it, they don't even know each other, although they do seem very friendly now. So if Josie's not the father and Polly is the mother, then she must mean that Martin Wheelwright, her brother-in-law, is Polly-Jo's father. But none of that matters now. Families! And I thought that Agnes and mine had become a complicated marriage!
"So, are we here alone?" I ask, "just the seven of us?"
I hear a rustle Agnes quietly enters the room behind me.
"Just us, Staff," Freddie says, a smile on his face like he's just lapped up the cream and, judging by the way Polly is cuddling up to him, I guess he has. "I've had a quick recce, and you couldn't swing a cat in any room here, either upstairs or down. There's no cellar, garage or even a garden shed, and no-one's been in the loft for months, according to a spider's web in the corner."
"OK, Freddie, cough up, what's really going on here between you two?" I ask.
The girls giggle and Mickie holds out a hand to her mother Agnes, so she sits down on a rocking chair the other side of the fireplace, and the twins cheerfully climb on her lap, all full of infectious smiles. "Uncle Freddie loves Aunt Polly," they sing out in unison. The couple on the settee, snuggle up, although Polly still looks in shock at seeing me.
"I can see that," I say, "So, while l've been busting my butt in school, I suppose you two love birds have been exchanging emails."
"Tweets," they quietly say in unison, dripping with guilt. Freddie clears his throat.
"Look, Staff, Poll was working at the school during the summer holidays, doing a bit of cleaning and stuff. And we sort of bumped into each other while we were there recceying the place. We just sort of hit it off like you know. I didn't even twig she was the mark in this caper until after we'd exchanged a couple of messages and Polly mentioned she'd a daughter at the school who was full of this amazing new swimming coach. Up to then I had no inkling that a school cleaner could afford to send her daughter to that flash school. Then it became clear to me after more probing that she'd had bugger all to do with your old buddy Wheelwright for ages, ever since her sister died. Only, I didn't know how to explain to you or to her, how I was 'piggy in the middle'."
"Yes," Polly chipped in, "Martin has not been seen or even heard of since you were arrested, Dan. It must be over twenty years now since they moved to Essex and even then they always had this villa in Turkey and he maintained his criminal activities in London from an accommodation address."
"I know, Freddie and I visited the place in Turkey a few months ago, it looked like it had been unoccupied for a while, with dust everywhere and most of the furniture gone."
"Josie died when PJ was only two, she left a trust fund that was only to be used to pay for her education, including board, Josie even picked the school." Polly' eyes were filled with tears. "When I fell pregnant with PJ, it solved a problem for Josie and her arsehole husband."
"How come?" I ask.
"Martin may have been a tough guy in the neighbourhood, but he could only fire blanks in the bedroom. Josie had been married to him for five years without falling pregnant, and she was getting so desperate to have a baby to lavish attention on. So, while you away doing the alpine training in the Army and you wrote to me the news that you had fallen in love with Agnes, I was back home putting up with morning sickness. When I told Josie I had your bun in the oven and not sure how I could afford to bring her up, Martin saw it as an opportunity to complete his macho image with a kid of his own."
"But—" I tried to butt in, but Freddie put his hand up.
"Let Josie tell it, Staff, we all need to know this."
Polly took a deep breath. "Before I even started to show, Martin had me move out to their Essex home with them, and I had PJ out there, so no-one at home was any the wiser. I registered with a local doctor and checked into a private hospital as if I was Josie Wheelwright, and then Martin and Josie registered the birth as their own baby and announced the new arrival with photos to everyone they knew. When they next visited Josie's and my Mum at home, they presented PJ as their baby. I stayed away and visited Mum the next week, no-one ever saw PJ and me together, otherwise I couldn't have pulled it off. To our Mum I explained my absence during the time as working in a busy hotel during the spring and summer and couldn't get time off to come home and visit. In fact, I never moved back home, just stayed as close to PJ as her nurse, nanny and then aunt."
"So Martin isn't the father?"
"No Daniel, ... you are the father. For years, you were the only friend with benefits that I was having sex with, and I wasn't interested in anyone else. I never told you I loved you because I thought if you knew you'd stop coming back to me."
Bugger! That's put the cat among the pigeons. I've got some more explaining to do to Agnes.