Solomon's Secrets: Chapter 6

I enjoyed posting a chapter a day last week and finding appropriate images to share with you, so this week for

Operation Author: 365 Actions to Becoming a Successful Author 

I'm going to continue to serialize chapters from Solomon's Secrets.

I recommend that you read the previous few posts to get up to speed with the story so far. 

Enjoy, and please leave comments. Thanks

Three Months ago

Exmouth, Devon

Tom Sheridan had been looking forward to this visit. It had been a couple of months since he’d seen him and he missed the old guy.

He was leaning against the car, watching the waves crash up the beach, the salty breeze tugging the smoke from his Marlboro away in a twirling thread. Pausing to smoke was a dividing line separating one part of his life from another. It helped him to focus, gave him the headspace to compartmentalise everything.

It wasn’t working as well as he’d hoped. He was forever being forced to think about her. She was wrapped up in this latest investigation. She had to be. She had one of the keys, and she had the books.

This was supposed to be time for himself. Time to be with the only person in his life who was family - Frank. He was all Frank had too. He loved the old timer like a father. A tiny strand of a normal life he protected jealously.

He’d tried to forget her. Put the past where it belonged, far behind him. She was a distraction. An indulgence. A mark he should have kept at a distance, but she lured him in. All things he’d tried to avoid. He wanted to suppress the memories and feelings hanging off him like a concrete jacket when her name was mentioned. They only confused things. Took his energy away. But she was still there, her smile on the inside of his eyelids at night, her smell only forgotten when tobacco was there in its place. But even the warm comfort of nicotine wasn’t enough today.

The sound of the ocean drowned out her voice in his head. Relaxed him. And seeing Frank again would put him back in touch with himself, help him to find the man he wanted to be, the man he was and not the man The Agency had turned him into. The irony of it was it was that man, the Tom Sheridan Frank knew, the man he wanted to be, the part of him he could have any self-respect for, he was the man she had wanted. The man she had encouraged him to be – until he pushed her away.

The needlepoint glow faded and soaked into the filter tip and he dropped the butt. He ground it into the tarmac with the toes of his expensive leather shoes. She’d made him buy them. In Amsterdam. He wore them because they were the most comfortable shoes he had, but whenever he looked at the fine stitching on them, he thought of the exquisite lines of her face, her eyes smiling at him.

He took a tissue from his pocket and scooped up the cigarette butt. A force of habit. His third rule; never leave a trace.

He crumpled the tissue up then opened the passenger door. He tucked the tissue ball into the glove box next to a half empty packet of Extra Strong Mints. He popped a mint in his mouth, closed the glove box, then picked up an anonymous carrier bag from the passenger seat. He locked the car then crossed the empty road to the nursing home.

He signed in as usual, smiling at Bridget, one of the receptionists and exchanged a few words of banter, as he always did. She showed him through to the lounge, even though it was always the same routine. He got the impression Bridget appreciated the excuse to stretch her legs and chat with someone closer to her age.

“He doesn’t seem to be his usual chipper self today,” she said as they walked, “so I’m glad you’re here. It’ll cheer him up.”

Tom thanked her and she returned to her duties.

“Hi Uncle Frank. Here, don’t let on to the nurses…” Tom leaned towards him slid a bottle of Harvey’s Bristol Cream from the bag. He’d bought it direct from the Harvey’s cellar before leaving Bristol.

Frank took the bottle with a melancholy smile and leaned over to set it on the table beside him.

“What is it?” Tom asked, worried now. Usually Frank would be full of smiles and stories but instead he looked drawn and small. In his nineties he had always looked much younger, but not today.

Frank looked up, his eyes rimmed red.

“Are you alright?” Tom crouched over to look at him, resting a hand on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry my boy. I am pleased to see you. Of course I am. I always am,” he offered a weak smile, “but I’ve had some news.”

“Frank?”

A thousand questions came to life, things Tom had tried to suppress. The inevitable questions about how close Frank was to death. The fear the old man may suffer. Or lose his mind. He would have to face it, sooner or later. He’d hope it would be later. Steeling himself, he perched on the coffee table in front of Frank, who seemed withered into the wing backed chair he always sat in by the window.

“Oh, no. It’s nothing like that. I’m strong as an Ox boy!” A wily grin flashed across his face, “And thanks for the Harvey’s. You’re a good lad!” he winked at Tom, “No, no. It’s something else. It’s a long story. But you know what. Rather than telling you, I’ll show you.”

With what seemed an exaggerated effort, the old man shifted his hips and pulled a dog-eared manila envelope from his trouser pocket and handed it to Tom.

Tom’s face curled with bewilderment as he unpicked the sticky seal and slid out a typed letter. He read it. Then read it again, hardly believing what he was seeing.

Angry? Upset? Disappointed? He didn’t know what to feel – just surprise.

“I didn’t…”

“…know I had a brother?”

Tom nodded, his mouth set open and wordless.

“That’s how I wanted it to be. Edward Fitch - everyone called him Teddy - was no brother of mine. Only by blood, but never by any loyalty or honour.” Frank’s eyes were hooded, a spite in his tone. He was usually so happy go lucky. Despite all he’d seen in his life, he always had a smile.

Tom never suspected he had secrets. Not like this.

“B…But…I don’t...” he couldn’t form words. His mind swimming.

“You don’t understand?” Frank finished the sentence, as if he knew Tom so well they barely needed words.

He responded with a pathetic nod.

“I feel like I’m doing nothing but apologising today,” snorted Frank, “Tom, I’ve always respected you. Loved you like a son. Your father would be so proud of you. As I am.” The old man’s eyes moistened as he spoke, “But me, I’m not half the man you are. Or John was for that matter - even him, your dad, my best friend, he didn’t know about Teddy.”

“But why? Why hide the fact you had a brother?” said Tom, finally finding his voice again, his words contorted with confusion.

“It’s a long story.”

“Well, I’m not going anywhere, I don’t know about you.” He flashed the old man a cheeky smile. Frank chuckled to himself.

“I guess not. I have an excuse to miss the bingo if I’m talking to you at least.” He nudged Tom playfully, as if he was trying to find his cheer again, “Alright. I’ll give you the abridged version. Then you can be the judge.”

Tom got up from the table and pulled over a chair, settling in.

“OK,” sighed the old man, “It started with Mable.”

“Mable? Your wife?”

He nodded, “You see. Mable, god rest her, was a nurse. She was working out at a field hospital in Cyprus in the war. That’s where I met her.”

“I thought you met her when you were on leave?”

“I did. The part I didn’t tell you was I took leave in Cyprus.”

“A holiday romance?”

“Not exactly,” Frank sniggered, “I went to visit a patient who was bought into the hospital with a leg injury and Mable was treating him.”

“Teddy?”

“That’s right, lad,” he nodded, “She shared some smokes with me on her break and we got chatting. We started courting. I went to Cyprus to see my brother and left with the love of my life. Trouble was, Teddy had eyes for her too. She chose me. We got married in a rushed ceremony on the island and swore we’d wait for each other. Mrs Frances Fitch Junior. Teddy couldn’t handle that.”

“And you stopped talking to him? How come?”

“You see, the thing with Teddy was, he was used to getting his own way. He was my younger brother – sweet little Teddy. While I spent my childhood with my nose in books he would be out charming the neighbours into giving him sweets. The fair haired blue eyed boy with the silver tongue. He outdid me at sport, had more friends than me and our mothers friends thought he was little angel. He always had to outdo me. And it never changed. In fact, as we grew up it got worse. It was as if his main motivator in life was to beat me – at everything. He felt somehow inadequate. I had awards and accolades for my academic work and Teddy was obsessed with competing over everything else. It usually included women too. But not Mable. She’d already made her mind up.”

“So what happened?”

“He started spreading rumours, denied it of course when I confronted him. He tried to drive a wedge between Mable and I. When he lost his leg due to Gangrene, it was as if the rot had gone to his core. He became bitter, angry, resentful. I tried, I really tried to make peace with him but it had gone too far. He had settled in Cyprus. Made some money running a couple of successful restaurants but it wasn’t enough. He rebuilt and extended our parents old house, filled it with expensive furniture and started to collect rare books. It was always me who had been interested in books, but even that was something he was determined to better me at – assembling an impressive library,” he scoffed, rolled his eyes and continued. “We had a huge fight some years later. I told him he was no brother of mine and he told me he was fine with it and accused me of all kinds of horrible ways I had tried to ruin his life. And that was that. Half a century later I get this letter.”

“And now he’s dead.”

Frank slumped, overcome with sadness, as if hearing someone else say the words made them true. He buried his head in his hands, and with a wretched sob said, “And now he’s dead.”

* 

Tom Sheridan has always been a loner. He learned to be tough and independent at a young age, but Frank Fitch, his father's best friend, always looked out for him.  Frank is the one constant in Tom's life, but who is the woman he's obsessing about?

(If you've read the first book, The Bronze Box, you might be able to guess...)

The seafront at Exmouth, Devon (image from: http://www.theguardian.com)

 

Clive Owen as Tom Sheridan (image from: http://www.craveonline.com)

 

Michael Kane as Frank Fitch (image from:  doublesuspects.blogspot.co.uk)

 Tune in tomorrow for the next chapter...

Coming soon - Solomon's Secrets is in the final stages of preparation for publication. Help me to see it in print by pre-ordering now.

• e-Books £3
• Paperbacks £10 (inc P&P)

http://bit.ly/SolomonsSecrets_Fund


Thanks :)