Page 76 of Don't Believe A Word
Cristy stopped at the gate, checking her phone. ‘If you’ll excuse me a moment,’ she said, ‘I need to take this,’ and receiving a pleasant smile from James Prosser, she turned back towards the car.
‘Anna? Is everything OK?’ she asked.
‘Yeah, it’s all cool,’ Anna assured her. ‘Sadie’s right here, just back from the hospital …’
‘What?’
‘They thought Mia had a stroke last night, but turns out it wasn’t that serious, just a weird sort of turn or something. Here, I’ll put Sades on …’
‘Hey, Cristy,’ Sadie said, coming onto the line. ‘Sorry I’m only just getting back to you. It’s been a bit frantic. We thought we were going to lose her, but false alarm and she’s home again now. She has to go back for more tests later, but Corny’s just turned up to make a fuss of her, which’ll probably drive her mad. And if Corny ends up staying it could screw things up a bit for you coming tomorrow.’
Closing her eyes with frustration, Cristy said, ‘OK, well, keep me posted and if we have to change our flights …’
‘No probs, but I was hoping to catch you before you speak to Edwin Prosser. Are you there yet?’
‘Just arrived. Why? Has Mia told you something about him?’
‘No. I haven’t even mentioned you’re going to see him, or that I found a letter from him before she keeled over last night. It was written to Lottie and I think you should read it before you talk to him. Jasper’s scanning it now ready to send.’
‘Give me the bullet points,’ Cristy urged.
‘OK, well, he addresses her as bitch-sister, so definitely no love lost between them, and he goes on to say that if she doesn’t meet the terms he laid out in his last letter she knows what will happen. Nothing to say what the terms were, or what they’re about, justthe threat of doing something if she doesn’t agree to whatever he’s asking for.’
‘Is there a date on the letter?’
‘July ninth, 2000. Now listen to this, Lottie – I presume it was her anyway – has scrawled across it,Non-negotiable.Whether she wrote back to him to that effect, I’ve no idea, but I thought you should know about it before you go in.’
‘OK, thanks. Get Jasper to send it, and I’ll pick it up on the phone. Let me know how things go with your aunt and Corny.’
‘Will do. By the way, she told the doctor I’m trying to kill her, and now she’s banned me from Lottie’s rooms.’
Wondering how Sadie was managing to sound so unfazed by the chaos, Cristy said, ‘Well, we’ve got a lot of stuff at the office, and I’m sure you’ll find a way around it.’
‘Oh, I will. Don’t worry.’
‘I need to go now. I’ll call when we’re on our way back to Bristol.’
As she rang off Cristy forced herself past the disappointment of having to delay the trip to Guernsey and only recalled David’s suggestion that she should ask Sadie about Lottie’s will as she was walking towards the house. It was too late now, and anyway it wasn’t the time while everything was going on with Mia.
‘Ah, there you are,’ James Prosser smiled, as she entered the hall. ‘We’re just getting comfortable in here.’ He directed her towards a set of double doors to the left and as she walked into a spacious drawing room she felt her phone vibrate. Presumably the email Sadie had promised.
‘Thanks,’ she said, as James Prosser took her coat. She looked around the room, taking in a faux log burner at the heart of a red-brick fireplace and various lamps switched on to help brighten the gloomy day. Rising from a comfy chair to greet her was an older man with sparse white hair and a similar cravat to his son’s.
‘Edwin Prosser,’ he said, reaching for her hand. ‘Thank you for coming all this way. I was just saying to Connor, I don’t get many visitors these days, apart from James and my grandchildren, so new faces are always welcome.’
He was nothing like the runtish or weaselly individual she’d imagined, thanks to Lottie. To the contrary, in fact. Though hehad to be in his late seventies, maybe even early eighties, it was easy to see how handsome and dapper he’d been in his day. His eyes, like his son’s, were kind and welcoming, as was his smile, and in spite of his apparently frail physique, he stood quite tall. She wondered what he’d thought of Lottie’s description of him when he’d read it, if it had angered or upset him, or not surprised him at all.
‘It’s good to meet you,’ she said. ‘Thanks for agreeing to talk to us.’
He nodded and gestured for her to sit in a wing-back armchair next to his, while James poured the coffee and Connor began unpacking the equipment.
‘Can I ask,’ Cristy said, ‘why you changed your mind about being interviewed?’
Edwin’s eyes went down as he bunched his gnarled hands together. ‘Those years, when I was with Mia,’ he said, ‘I’m not proud of what happened back then, of who I was and the things I did. For over two decades it’s been behind me and I’ve chosen not to think of it, or to talk to anyone about it.’ He reached for a framed photograph on the table beside him and stared down at it for a moment before passing it to Cristy. ‘This is my wife, Yolanda, James’s mother. She died six years ago … She knew all about Mia, of course, and she forgave me when I really didn’t deserve forgiveness at all.’
Looking at the sweet, open face of a woman in her prime who seemed to be flirting with the photographer, Cristy said, ‘She’s lovely.’
‘Yes, she was. We still miss her and I don’t think it’ll change, at least not for me. Will you take milk or sugar?’
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