One Lie Leads To......

1

This

was

to

be

a

house clearance with a difference. Invitation only. Anna Corwin had all the right contacts. She and lifelong friend Marie had left Cambridge early to avoid the worst of the rush-hour traffic, but the inevitable delay at the Dartford Crossing was making them late for the sale near Eastbourne. Suddenly a lane-hopping delivery van caused Anna to swerve and break sharply to avoid a collision. The jolt woke Marie who’d dozed off before they’d even reached the Stanstead Airport exit on the M11.

What the? remarked Marie, startled by the abrupt awakening.

Some bloody van driver who thinks he owns the road. Sorry about that, Anna replied.

I feel a bit sick.

Do you want me to stop? Anna asked her, a little concerned.

Marie looked very pale.

No, I’ll be OK in a minute. I didn’t sleep well last night. I never do when Ralph’s away.

Marie opened the window to get some fresh air. The icy blast stung her eyes.

When does he buy that farmhouse? Anna asked.

In a couple of weeks, but… Marie paused. I still think it’s a big mistake.

Where is it again?

For about the tenth time, Virginia!

Marie couldn’t believe how such a brilliant business woman could have such a terrible memory.

They?

He’s meeting Daniel, our lawyer, over there. Adrian and Terrence are leaving everything to Ralph.

What’s Daniel like?

A very nice guy.

Marie knew exactly where this conversation was going. Basically her best friend was a man-eater and couldn’t resist the temptation to quiz Marie.

Get him over here and introduce us. How rich and how good looking is he?

He’s also very happily married.

Bit of a challenge then?

You also have a husband, remember? That man who lives in your house. Don, I think his name is.

If I had to wait for him, I’d get it about twice a year.

Anna had no scruples and even saw Ralph as a bit of a challenge. On several occasions and always when Marie was out of earshot, Anna had flirted heavily with him, but she was completely wasting her time. Since they’d been married,

Ralph Hartman had been completely faithful and would never have a fling with anyone, particularly Anna. Ralph didn’t like Anna or her behaviour and only tolerated her and Don for Marie’s sake.

Marie didn’t like Don either; he was usually rude, so Marie always made the effort to see Anna when he wasn’t around. They really were an odd couple. Don was more than ten years older than Anna, and Marie had never been able to work out what the initial attraction between them had been, let alone what had kept them together for fifteen years of marriage.

Don was not a handsome man and had always been quite fat with a permanent reddish tint to his badly dyed hair. He was the manager for a wine importing company and was under the illusion that he was some sort of entrepreneurial genius; this couldn’t be further from the truth. Don had several failed business ideas lying in his wake and was now resigned to having to work for someone else. As a consequence, he was jealous of anyone running a successful business. This included his wife and, more so, Ralph Hartman.

To anyone looking in from the outside, the friendship between Marie Hartman and Anna Corwin also looked to be an odd alliance. Apart from being very good sports women, they had little in common and were very different in character. Their moral values were diametrically opposed. Anna was vivacious and liked to dominate people. This was something Marie never let her get away with. Despite their differences, their friendship was genuine and equal, and they always had great fun together.

Like Marie, Anna was in her mid forties. Over the past few years she had built up a very successful business buying and selling second-hand designer label and haute-couture clothes. She was a pretty woman who had played county hockey into her late thirties and had continued taking regular exercise since she stopped playing, so she was in very good shape. Anna knew only too well how attractive she was, and she had a huge ego to match. She also had a seemingly insatiable appetite for men, being an aggressive sexual predator who firmly believed she could get any man she wanted into bed. On the rare occasions that Anna’s advances were spurned, she would be furious. She hated rejection and not getting her own way.

Although she disapproved of Anna’s numerous infidelities, Marie put it to the back of her mind. Don was thoroughly dislikeable, if he didn’t realise what his wife was doing or was stupid enough to put up with it, she felt he almost deserved it.

I don’t know how you get away with treating Don the way you do, Marie said, though she didn’t really care.

He has absolutely no idea.

Perhaps he knows and chooses to ignore it.

Honestly, Marie, my husband really isn’t very smart.

That’s nice of you, Marie remarked sarcastically.

Perhaps he knows and puts up with it because he likes to have the trophy wife, Anna joked.

Vain cow, Marie thought but chose to say nothing further.

Although it was very cold, it was a pleasant day for the end of February, and she was looking forward to seeing the house and the collection of clothes they’d gone to view. They were on a narrow country road looking for an elaborate Art Deco gated entrance, which they eventually found. This was a work of art in itself. They turned into the drive and carried on up to the house, which could not be seen from the main road. After a sharp right angle bend and a clearing in the trees, they were in front of the house. It looked absolutely stunning against the blue sky.

The house was a beautiful example of Art Deco architecture and was in first-rate condition. It had all the classic curves, lines, and dimensions so characteristic of the period. It was a two-story house with what looked like a roof patio. Towards the rear of this was a partial third story that gave the house the look of an ocean liner. The gardens had also been designed and shaped to complement the design of the house. Leading up to the house from the gravel car park was a beautiful, winding set of grey marble steps that looked like they had been sculpted rather than built. The upkeep of this house must have cost a fortune.

The husband of the recently deceased old lady died in the 1960s. He was a multimillionaire who’d had the house built in 1931. It was still in such terrific condition that it looked like it was only recently finished. After he died his wife felt it was her duty to keep this wonderful house in pristine condition. This she did admirably up until the day she died. The house was mainly white in colour with black decorative lines accentuating the design. Above each window and door was an inlaid pattern with a black trapezoid marble centre which looked opaque, like a jewel viewed at an oblique angle to the light. Both women were in awe at what they were looking at.

If she kept her clothes in the same condition as the house, I’m going to make a fortune, Anna said, almost whispering.

After a short silence she spoke again.

Come on, Mrs Hartman, I’ve got a load of money to make.

Inside the house the stunning beauty and quality of the design continued. It was full of the most wonderful furniture and decoration typical of the period, and it was no wonder that the National Trust (NT) were showing such a keen interest. Neither women was an expert in 1920s or 1930s clothing, but Marie and Anna both knew a fantastic collection when they saw it. There were in excess of thirty dresses, countless blouses, skirts, shoes, stockings, and various silk undergarments. Much of the collection was indeed original Chanel and in remarkably good condition. Anna doubted that the offer she would be making would be anywhere near enough for this truly wonderful collection.

2

A couple of days later, the first phone call half woke Marie. She heard the answering machine cut in and was vaguely aware that Adrian Ormiston was leaving a message. She wondered why Ralph hadn’t answered but chose to ignore it and go back to sleep. The second call about half an hour later woke her fully. This time she answered. It was Anna.

It’s me. Can we meet?

Sure. When?

In town this afternoon. Marie, I’m so excited.

Can we make it tomorrow? I’ve woken up late and have loads to do. What’s happened?

Meet me at eleven in that little coffee shop behind Kings College. We can spend the day shopping. I am so excited, Anna repeated.

You’ve obviously got some good news.

I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow.

OK. See you at eleven.

See you then. Anna hung up.

Marie assumed it must be something to do with the clothes they’d seen at the Art Deco house the day before. It was a long while since she had seen or heard Anna so animated about anything, not even any of her lovers. She found Ralph reading in the kitchen.

Coffee? he asked her as she sat down.

Please. What’s that? she asked, peering at the documents Ralph was reading.

The farmhouse survey report. I need to go over it with Ady.

Oh.

Ralph knew there was no point talking about it again. Marie had made it quite clear what she thought about his latest project in Virginia.

How did it go the other day? Ralph asked. He’d arrived home the previous evening from a holiday homes sales convention.

You should have seen it. The house was beautiful. I’ve never seen anything like it. And the clothes— Marie was so exited she stopped midsentence.

Bet they were all moth-eaten.

They were immaculate. Sixty years old and they were like new. I’ll tell you, you should be putting your cash into that place.

We’ve had quite a few new booking enquiries, more than at this time last year, Ralph said, deliberately changing the subject.

That’s good news.

Ralph and Marie’s life transformation had begun about nine years earlier in 1986. After leaving school Ralph had worked in the insurance industry for twenty-three years investigating fraudulent claims. This was a job he had loved, until he was hit with the bombshell that he was to be made redundant. His severance package had been very generous, due to his position of seniority and time served with the company. Nonetheless, he was absolutely devastated.

For a period of two or three months, he did nothing and slid into a depressed state; he didn’t eat properly, had great trouble sleeping, and began to drink to excess. He also cut himself off from his friends and family. He felt like his sense of purpose in life had gone. This made him very difficult to live with, but he did make a conscious effort not to take it out on Marie. She supported him fully, difficult though it was. They had savings plus Ralph’s redundancy money, which was into six figures, so they were financially sound, for the time being.

Seeing the man she had been married to for seventeen years and loved so dearly spiritually crushed and seemingly unable to cope was seriously worrying. This was having a dreadful effect on his appearance. He was losing weight at an alarming rate, leaving him looking gaunt and haggard. With the added fact that he was already going grey, Ralph, not yet forty years old, was looking like a man in his fifties.

One morning she went to work leaving Ralph in bed with what she knew would be a massive hangover when he awoke. The previous night she’d noticed that Ralph had drunk the best part of a bottle of Wild Turkey. When she entered the kitchen in the morning, the empty bottle plus five empty beer cans were in the sink. She was horrified. At work Marie finally confided in Adrian Ormiston, their close friend and also at the time, her boss. He promised to do anything he could to help, although privately he wasn’t sure what that might be.

Marie felt better having talked to someone about Ralph, but she was terrified at what she might find when she got home. To her surprise, she found the house clean and tidied. Ralph was clean-shaven and smartly dressed, reading in the lounge. She was taken aback at this transformation. He apologised about his behaviour over the past few weeks and informed her that he had booked them a holiday in Florida. They would be leaving in two weeks. In the meantime he drank no alcohol and set about sorting out his finances. Although he hadn’t spent much money since his redundancy, his finances had been neglected just like everything else in his life.

This was the first time they had been to the United States and was, in fact, the first proper holiday they had taken in four years. They fell in love with the place and spent two weeks having fun and relaxing. It was during this time that Ralph realised they could put some of his redundancy money to work by investing in holiday homes. A house with a pool would only eat up a little over half of his money. For the moment this was just an idea; they would have to seek advice before maybe making it a reality.

Back in England they invited Adrian to dinner. He and Ralph had been friends since they played cricket for the same team as teenagers. After graduating from University, Adrian worked in London as an accountant for an international property-dealing law firm. After a few years he returned to Cambridge, a chartered accountant with a strong desire to be his own boss. He started his own company, and his first accounts clerk was a young woman called Marie Davy. She gained her bookkeeping qualifications and had worked for Adrian ever since. Along the way she became Mrs Marie Hartman. As for children, neither Ralph nor Marie had ever felt the need to add to the numbers of what was already becoming an over populated world.

At dinner they told Adrian about their idea of buying and renting out a holiday home in Orlando. He thought it was a good idea. He was also delighted that Ralph had stopped drinking heavily and seemed to be back to normal and taking an interest in life again. He told them he’d be happy to help and although foreign properties were not his area of expertise, he knew someone who could give them the advice they needed.

The following day Adrian made a call to a lawyer friend, an American named Daniel Bradley. He worked for the New York office of the same law firm that he’d worked for. He got to know Daniel when he was on a twelve month secondment to the London head office. Daniel dealt with Trans-Atlantic property deals. Ralph and Daniel were put in contact and within a few months Marie and Ralph Hartman were earning an income from their own home, less than ten minutes drive from Universal Studios, Orlando.

In the mean time Ralph had also been able to get a job working for a security firm. It meant working shifts and the pay wasn’t particularly good, but with Marie working for Adrian and money coming in from the house in Florida they were able to keep their heads above water without eating into the rest of Ralph’s redundancy money.

Marie finished her coffee and stood up.

I’m going for a shower and sort myself out. Can you run me into town tomorrow? I’m meeting Anna. Yeh, no problem.

3

The traffic into Cambridge city centre was unusually light for a Friday morning. Ralph dropped Marie outside Kings College. While they were out on the town, Ralph would drop in to see Adrian to discuss the survey report and play some snooker before going home to wait for Marie to call for a lift home. Anna was already waiting when Marie walked into the café; it was old, really cosy and full of character. It was absolutely perfect for a cold morning in February.

Hi, Marie. Anna was beaming from ear to ear.

Somebody looks like the cat that’s got the cream. What’s going on? Marie asked.

At this point a waitress approached the table to take their order.

You won’t believe what’s happened. It’s fantastic.

Marie felt that Anna was going to burst with excitement at any moment.

Spit it out woman, Marie urged her friend.

My offer for the clothes was accepted.

That’s fantastic.

The National Trust is going to buy the house and furniture and turn it into a museum.

I’m not surprised, Marie enthused.

And for some reason, they don’t want to buy the clothes, just display them. They want to see me about hiring them.

What are you going to do?

Sign them up for a year, charge about five grand, and then find a buyer for the whole collection. I don’t want to split it up unless I have to.

You’re going to make some serious money out of this, aren’t you?

You bet. The NT can have first refusal, but if they don’t want them, I’ll sell them to the highest bidder.

It would be a shame to split them up.

I’m throwing a party to celebrate.

When? Marie asked, already wondering how she would get Ralph to go.

I’ll try and sort it out before Ralph goes to the States. My meeting with the NT is on Tuesday.

Marie smiled but didn’t say anything else. She let Anna glow in her moment of glory. While Anna talked, Marie sipped her cappuccino, not really listening. Marie was an only child, whose parents had run a successful light engineering company until they were tragically killed in a car accident when Marie was twenty-two. She had no interest in engineering, so the business was sold and the house rented out.

A young and quite wealthy woman but all alone in the world, Marie took off and spent the best part of three years working her way around Europe, Australia, and New Zealand, and she spent the final fourteen months in Vancouver before returning to England. Shortly after, she started working for Adrian and had done so on and off ever since.

Marie and Ralph didn’t have the burden of a mortgage, which they’d cleared on their spacious four-bedroom detached house with profits from the business. Marie spent a lot of her time working in their garden. She was, in fact, a talented horticulturist and studied the subject at great depth. She also spent the rest of her spare time on the golf course, playing to a 12 handicap. She had tried many times to get Ralph to take up the game but with no success. In Ralph’s opinion, to use the old adage, golf was a waste of a good walk.

Anna’s excitement over her piece of good fortune was like being hit by a train, and Marie was really pleased for her. She was a very shrewd businesswoman and made a good living from the rag trade as she called it, although rags were definitely not what Anna dealt in. All that was left was for the National Trust to sign the contract. It seemed odd they were buying the house and furniture but not the clothes. The conversation continued pretty much as one way traffic for quite some time while they drank their coffees. In the end Marie had got bored with it and interrupted, trying to change the subject.

You know, I have a hunch Ralph wants to go and live in the States.

Really? What about you?

Not a chance. I love the short visits and holidays, but I’d never want to live there.

You couldn’t leave your best friend behind, Anna chipped in.

Marie sensed that Anna was about try to turn the conversation, but Marie continued before she was able.

I don’t think he’ll push the issue while his parents are still alive, but after that, I don’t know. It does worry me though.

Do you think he will?

I don’t know; it’s just a feeling I have. He’s so keen about that old farmhouse that he’s even gone into partnership with Terry Boulton.

Never met him, but I’ve heard he’s horrible.

Vile, totally obnoxious, Marie confirmed.

Anyway, drink up, girl. Let’s do some shopping. I have seen the most gorgeous coat I want to buy.

Marie finished her coffee and paid the bill as they made for the door. They spent the day doing some serious shopping and enjoyed a boozy Italian lunch overlooking the market.

It was late afternoon when a slightly drunk Marie called Ralph to pick them up. They were both laden with shopping bags from the city centre shops. Despite Ralph’s dislike for Anna, he was always pleasant towards her, and anyway, he wasn’t involved in the giggly conversation in the back of the car. Marie was intending to leave the subject of the party until later. However. Anna put paid to that plan by blurting it out. Much to Marie’s surprise. Ralph said yes to her invitation there and then. There was no pained expression or change in the tone of his voice. Marie expected he’d express his objection when they were home.

To her astonishment, there was no objection. Ralph didn’t particularly want to go, but Anna was celebrating an exceptional piece of good fortune-very rare and vital when running your own business. She was Marie’s best friend, and he didn’t feel it was right to dampen their excitement. He wished, however, she’d show as much enthusiasm for his own project.

4

By the time of the party the following Saturday evening, Marie had hardly mentioned anything about it, fearing Ralph might change his mind about going. In truth he was so preoccupied with the purchase project in Virginia that he hadn’t given the party another thought. On the way there, Marie said, We could have taken a taxi.

If I drink, we’ll get a taxi home and pick up the car tomorrow, if you’re in any fit state.

She caught his grin and wink in the rear view mirror.

Don’t take the piss.

They both laughed.

As they approached the front door of the secluded, large, three-story, turn-of-the-century detached house, they could tell the party was well under way. It was like an old school reunion, with a number of husbands, wives, or partners in tow. Everyone seemed to be having fun. The food was excellent, and there was the unmistakable aroma of marijuana wafting through the air. Much to his relief, Ralph recognised someone he’d played cricket against a number of times years ago. They struck up conversation, and it turned out their wives, although they didn’t know each other, were both friends of Anna’s.

While the party got into full swing, the two men spent their time between the kitchen and the conservatory discussing the current state of English cricket and the prospects for the new season, particularly the Test Series against the West Indies. They were both happy enough with that. The evening passed quickly, and Ralph had quite enjoyed it, mainly because he had found good company with a common interest and had managed to avoid any conversation or contact with the party hosts he disliked so much. A little after midnight, he started thinking about leaving. His cricketing pal had just left and a few other people were starting to slip away, so he went in search of Marie.

Marie was quite drunk and possibly even stoned. She was having a great time with some old friends and asked to stay longer. She was clearly enjoying herself, so he agreed. To amuse himself, he headed back to the food table. While he sampled some delicious Ardennes pate, he heard the door close behind him and a familiar woman’s voice.

Ralph Hartman, have you been avoiding me?

It was Anna. Ralph didn’t bother turning around.

Nice food, Anna, was all he could think to say.

As he half turned around to face Anna, it was obvious she was stoned. She was slightly unsteady on her feet and had a slutty, lascivious look on her face. Anna had tried to flirt with Ralph on many occasions before, always when Marie was out of the way. This was no exception. Anna started her usual preamble of flirtatious clichés, which Ralph skilfully deflected with simple one-word answers. He was very conscious that she was between him and the door, the only way out of the room.

Suddenly Anna became more intense. Ralph knew she was goading him, and the last thing he wanted was to say or do anything that could be even slightly misinterpreted. He hoped someone would come to the rescue, while there was several feet of clear space between them. All he could focus on was getting out of there and decided to make for the door.

It really is time Marie and I were leaving. I’ve a busy day tomorrow.

He tried to push past her, but Anna stood her ground, deliberately blocking his exit.

You know you can fuck me any time you want, Anna purred quietly.

What?

Ralph’s voice almost screeched his response. His stomach lurched. This situation was intolerable, and he was desperate to get away from this woman.

Just give me a call, Ralph, any time.

She paused for a couple of seconds, then continued.

We both know you want to.

Ralph glowered at her. He really detested this woman.

What sort of vile bitch are you? he snapped at her. She was shocked by the way he was looking at her and strangely, by the profanity. She was slightly frightened but excited at the same time. Feeling protected by the room full of people next door she said.