Believing the Lie - Elizabeth George [206]
Valerie took this on board easily enough. She said, “Vivienne Tully’s payments are being stopped as well, if that’s what you’re getting at. And it is what you’re getting at, isn’t it, Mignon? You’ve been holding Vivienne Tully over your father’s head for years, I expect. No wonder so much money’s gone out to you.”
“And this is turn-the-other-cheek time?” Mignon asked her mother. “Is that where we are? Where you are? With him?”
“Where I am, as you put it, with your father is none of your business. No one’s marriage is your business.”
“So let me make sure I understand,” Mignon said. “He carries on with Vivienne Tully in London, he buys her flat, he has a bloody second life there with her… and I’m to pay because I had the common decency not to tell you about it?”
“Please don’t paint yourself as the noble character in this situation,” Valerie said.
“Here, here,” murmured Freddie.
Valerie continued. “You know very well why you didn’t tell me about it. The information was useful and you’re a common blackmailer. You ought to get down on your very capable knees and thank God I’m not asking the inspector to arrest you. Beyond that, everything about Vivienne Tully is a matter between your father and me. It doesn’t concern you. She doesn’t concern you. The only thing that ought to concern you is what you intend to do with your life because it’s beginning tomorrow morning and I expect it to look very different from how it looks just now.”
Mignon then turned to her father. She was in that moment every inch the woman holding all the valuable cards in the deck. She said to Fairclough, “Is that how you want it to be, then?”
“Mignon,” he murmured.
“You’ve got to say. Now’s the moment, Dad.”
“Don’t take this further,” Bernard said to her. “It’s not necessary, Mignon.”
“I’m afraid it is.”
“Valerie.” Bernard appealed to his wife. He was, Lynley thought, a man who was watching his life as he’d known it come tumbling down. “I think all points have been touched upon. If we can agree upon— ”
“Upon what?” Valerie broke in sharply.
“Upon showing a modicum of mercy here. That terrible fall all those years ago. Launchy Gill. She’s not been well. She’s never been the same. You know she’s not capable of supporting herself.”
“She’s as capable as I am,” Manette put in. “She’s as capable as anyone in this room. Honestly, Dad, Mum’s right, for God’s sake. It’s time to put an end to this nonsense. That has to be the most expensive fractured skull in history, considering how Mignon’s played it.”
Valerie, however, was watching her husband. Lynley could see that sweat had appeared on Fairclough’s forehead. His wife apparently saw this as well because she turned to Mignon and said quietly, “Let’s have the rest, then.”
“Dad?” Mignon said.
“For God’s sake, Valerie. Give her what she wants.”
“I will not,” she said. “I absolutely will not.”
“Then it’s time we had a chat about Bianca,” Mignon declared. Her father shut his eyes.
“Who’s Bianca?” Manette demanded.
“Our baby sister, as it happens,” Mignon replied. She turned to her father. “Care to talk about this, Dad?”
ARNSIDE
CUMBRIA
When Lucy Keverne phoned her, Alatea Fairclough was alarmed. Their arrangement was that Lucy would never phone, either Alatea’s mobile or the land line at Arnside House. Lucy had the numbers of course, because giving her the numbers had been one of the ways in which Alatea had made a stab at legitimatising that which could never be legitimate between them. But she’d impressed upon her from the first that ringing the number could bring an end to everything, and neither of them wanted that.
“What shall I do in case of an emergency?” Lucy had asked, not unreasonably.
“Then, of course, you must phone. But you’ll understand, I hope, if at the moment I can’t speak to you.”
“We’ll need some sort of code for that.”
“For what?”
“For your not being able to speak at the moment. You can’t just say ‘I’m not able to speak to you now,’ if your husband’s