Chapter Twenty-five: April and May

Gwendoline stood in the nave of the small church, the index finger of one hand lightly tapping her cheek, the other hand holding the elbow of the upraised arm. Inhaling slowly, she scanned the open expanse of empty pews standing on worn grey flagstones. Though it was unseasonably warm for late April, inside, it was cool and restful. There was a faint hint of Mr Sheen lemon wood polish and of the early David Austin roses in a large brass urn on the altar. Pursing her lips slightly, she shook her head as she turned to face the man standing beside her.

"No, I'm sorry, Vicar, but it simply won't do. I shall want to organise the flowers throughout the entire church and have the final say on the overall decorative theme, I'm afraid," her eyes scanned the several perceptibly bare locations simply begging for a floral display. "I don't doubt your usual arrangement with the local ladies is perfectly acceptable for your standard services," Gwendoline added, turning to face the Very Reverend, Mr Thomas Polglaze. "However, my family has not only lived in the area for a very long time, but we also have a certain responsibility to maintain the family ah, distinction, as it were," she smiled kindly, for the vicar was usually a pleasant and accommodating man. "If you recall, my husband's family did endow the church with a new Chancel roof."

"In seventeen-eighty-nine, yes, Mrs Kerr, indeed," Reverend Polglaze knew the Kerr family of old, having christened all three of the Kerr sisters and interred the late Mr Kerr following his early demise. He smiled accommodatingly, for despite her being marginally snobbish, the woman was indefatigable in her support for the local community and he had no wish to ruin a perfectly good lunch with indigestion brought on by arguing. "Though normally, Mrs Penders and her roster of helpers are the ones who plan and orchestrate the flowers for all our weddings,"

"And no doubt they produce an attractive presentation," Gwendoline smiled agreeably and nodded, her eyes avoiding the glaringly empty spaces. "But the occasion of my eldest daughter's nuptials is not what I would consider simply a 'wedding'," she continued. "Frederica is the eldest scion of our family and the 'usual' arrangements will be ... insufficient, I'm sure you understand. I will be looking for pageant rather than predictable."

Tom Polglaze had been the Vicar of St Mary's for a great many years and he knew when it was better to give in with grace rather than battle to the death over something as minor as this. He'd have to find a tactful way of breaking the news to Mrs Penders and her floral acolytes which, no doubt, would deliver him a significant amount of hurt reproach from certain quarters. However, if the wedding was going to be as prominent an affair as Mrs Kerr was implying, there might well be others who would consider the church for their own ceremonies. It was the way of the world these days to Instagram everything, and a smart and well-attended wedding would do the parish no harm whatsoever. By and large, though St Mary's was a well-liked house of worship and in reasonably good repair, even the smallest of improvements cost exorbitant amounts these days; a few substantial weddings would do wonders for the church funds. And besides, what harm did it do to let Gwendoline Kerr have her moment of glory?

"I understand entirely, Mrs Kerr," Reverend Polglaze nodded. "I also understand that you have taken it upon yourself to organise the whole ceremony?"

"My daughter is still recovering from a serious injury to her leg and her fiancé is a senior Chief Inspector of Detectives in the Metropolitan police," Gwendoline shrugged depreciatingly. "And both of them, as well as managing their work and various other responsibilities, are also in the final stages of completely refurbishing an old family property in town," sighing again, Gwendoline offered up another forbearing smile. "One does what one can, Vicar," she said. "To help the young ones along."

"As do we all, Mrs Kerr, as do we all."

###

Even though she couldn't run terribly quickly, her leg grew stronger with each passing week. There would always be a fine longitudinally scar running down her knee, as well as several patches of pinker skin on her calf, but other than that, her muscles had recovered well, as had her balance. Which was all to the good considering that Greg had only given her a ten-second head start.

Muffling a giggle, Freddy scooted as quickly as she could down a long avenue of young trees, jinking left and then left again, finding herself facing a long arbour of hanging vines curtaining off a wide vista of shade-loving plants. Darting inside the draped creepers, she trotted down to the farthest, darkest part of the shaded overhang and looked for a place to hide. Finding a small, somewhat damp niche in the most shadowy corner, she ducked behind a tall variegated Hosta and tried to calm her breathing.

In only seconds it seemed, there was the faint crunch of feet on the long gravelled path outside. Slowly, the footsteps came closer, pausing, moving again, another pause. Freddy held the sleeve of her jacket across her mouth to forestall any emergent laughter. The footsteps seemed to fade for a few seconds before returning even more loudly. Holding her breath now for fear of giving the game away, she dared not peek out from behind the big leafy plant ...

"AHA! Gotcha!" Greg pulled the plant to one side, stepping into the dark niche and wrapping his arms around her. "I have you now, my proud beauty," he grinned, burying his face in the warmth of her neck where he nibbled and tickled in precisely the way he knew drove her insane. "You owe me a forfeit, I think, for being such an easy catch," he continued playfully, raising his head to look around. At this time of the day, the garden centre was virtually empty. "What say you and I do the unspeakable right here among the lilies?" He lowered his mouth to hers, kissing her with a passion that still surprised them both, his hands roaming down to her bottom which he grasped with theatrical enthusiasm.

"They're Hostas not lilies," Freddy struggled partly free, her face flushed and laughing. "And I hardly think it would do a Metropolitan Chief Inspector's reputation any good to be caught in flagrante delicto among the herbaceous perennials, do you?"

"Haven't you heard?" he asked, leaning down to capture her lips again, kissing her breathless. "I'm the golden boy right now; I could bugger a Bishop on Tower Bridge and get let off with a reprimand," he added, pressing her deeper into the shadows, his teasing suggestion suddenly a tantalising possibility as Freddy yielded utterly in his arms, her smaller body blazing heat against him. The fingers of his hand moved to the belt of her jeans as she murmured incoherently within his embrace.

They both froze at the sound of multiple footsteps crunching on the gravel pathway beyond their shady nook. Waiting, arms wrapped around one another for what felt like an age, by the time the footsteps eventually faded into the distance, the heat between them had cooled somewhat. "Later, then," Freddy pulled Greg's head down to her level where she took her time kissing him the way she liked. That it always seemed to make his knees go weak only added to the deliciousness of it all. "We can have a dramatic re-enactment of the crime scene."

"You are a wicked woman and will lead me astray," Greg pressed his lips to the palm of her hand, his eyes dark and full of feeling.

"I was innocence itself until you seduced me into that big bed of yours," Freddy glanced up at him, her eyelids lowered, the palm of her hand warm against the front of his chinos. There was a small but definite movement from within. "Such a pushover," she sniggered.

"I'll give you pushover," Greg rumbled in her ear, pulling her gently out of the dark corner and tucking her hand in the crook of his arm. They'd come to one of the large plant nurseries off Wandsworth Common to start getting an idea of some of the costs the garden was going to land them with and so far, the news wasn't terribly cheering. Greg had broken the mood by attempting to hide himself among the Silver Birch which he argued, should have concealed him completely. That had led to twenty minutes of hide-and-seek down the long rows of Poplars and young Liquid Ambers, culminating in Freddy's near ravishment behind the unwitting Hosta.

Freddy had brought a list of the major shrubs, small trees, creepers and feature plants she wanted for her grand design. It was a large design and a long list. One look at the eighty-five pound tickets on the Japanese Maples and Greg's heart sank. Freddy's design called for twelve of the things, and that was just one of the types of small trees she'd listed in her neat handwriting. By the time they'd looked at the azaleas, the rhododendrons and various types of gardenia and camellia, the vague number in his head rolled over into the high thousands. Given they had yet to even begin fitting out the top floor flat of the Pimlico house, there was absolutely nothing in the remaining budget that could possibly cover a fraction of what Freddy's plan demanded. They'd both done the sums and this determination was not news to either of them, but it gnawed bitterly at Greg and he compressed him lips in unspoken frustration. Of all the things Freddy should have had, it would be her garden. He sighed. If they had to wait until they'd refurbished the top floor flat and sold it, she could use some of the money on the plants, but the great irony was they'd get a far better price for the top floor apartment if the garden was already in place, or at least begun, before they put it on the market. It was a conundrum and no mistake.

The rest of the house was now virtually complete. Everything from the repointed brick chimneys to the freshly limestone-tiled front steps was now ticked off the to-do list. There were a few minor decorating things they could finish off in time, but essentially, the basement lab, the grand ground floor and Greg's mid-level flat were as complete as their original plans had intended them to be. That all three levels had turned out to be far more roomy than first imagined had been something of a surprise and there were still a great many unfurnished and empty places, especially in the ground floor reception rooms. Freddy's kitchen was being well used, but she spent her nights in Greg's flat, so hadn't bothered thinking about furnishing her own rooms downstairs beyond the absolute basics. Both of them wanted to get the top floor done and sold and then they could get on with the wedding and the rest of their lives.

"I've had a thought," Greg poured Freddy a cup of tea in his kitchen after they returned from their exploration of the nursery, both slightly glum at the realisation of the financial situation, though Freddy did her damndest to conceal the fact. "Hear me out before you say anything," he added, sitting down opposite her at his kitchen table which had become a de facto campaign office for everyone. Lifting her eyebrows, Freddy sipped the hot tea and waited.

Taking a deep breath and puffing out his cheeks, Greg swallowed some tea and met her eyes across the table. "I think you should come and live in this apartment with me on a permanent basis and that we ask your mother to sell that freezing dump of hers in Harrow and move in to the ground floor apartment instead of you," he paused, scanning Freddy's expression for any reaction. "Both these flats of ours are huge, far too big for only one of us, so I thought," he shrugged. "Why not?" Laying his hands flat on the table top, Greg gazed at her. "That way, we can look after your mum as she gets older, plus we know she'll have a much better quality of living, plus she can be here if either of us needed, y'know, deliveries to be signed for, or anything," he paused again a little awkwardly. Freddy had made no sign or sound and Greg wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not. He'd thought about the idea for quite a while but it wasn't until he'd realised just how big each apartment was going to be that the suggestion had crystallised in his mind. "Though if you don't want to live so close to your mum, I'd kind of understand," he continued slowly, wondering if he'd just made the worst mistake of all time. "What do you think?"

Freddy put her cup down and lowered her eyes, obviously deep in thought. When she lifted them again, they were full of tears. Her mouth worked, as if she were about to say something, before she burst out weeping, covering her face with both hands.

Greg was immediately vexed with himself. Clearly it hadn't been the best of suggestions, especially at a time when so much else was going on. "Oh, hey now," he was around the table and on one knee as he slid his arms around the sobbing woman. "It was only an idea, it's not something we have to think about if you don't want to."

"Oh, Greg," Freddy wailed, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and pressing a damp cheek against his. "It's a brilliant idea and I'm sure Mummy would love it," she sat back, wiping her face with the back of one hand. "But are you positive you want the two of us so close?" she asked anxiously, her eyes searching his face. "You know what my mother can be like, and I'd hate for you to make a mistake, only to feel obligated to let her stay on, even though you wish you'd never ..."

"I fell in love with your mother the first time she caught me in her neighbour's house and threatened to do me severe damage," Greg laughed, hugging Freddy more tightly. "I couldn't be happier to have Gwennie here with us, as long as you're okay with the idea too," he added, leaning back to assess her expression. "Only if you're sure you can live with her downstairs."

"I've been so worried about her and was thrilled when she said she'd come to stay with me at the Dolphin ... I've been wondering what to do about her situation ever since," Freddy sniffed hard and heaved a short sigh. "It would solve so many problems to have her here, especially as she'd been so closely involved in getting the place done up," she smiled finally, her eyes still watery. "It would make her feel as if it were more her home," she smiled again. "It's a truly brilliant idea and I'd love Mummy to stay here with us if you're sure you want her to."

I want your mum to be comfortable and safe and this seems a perfect way of making sure of it," Greg smoothed back a lock of dark hair. "Despite the fact she's an interfering old baggage, I really do like your mother."

"I'm certain she'll jump at the suggestion and it means she can bring all her favourite old pieces of furniture and still be right in the middle of town for all her old cronies to come and visit. It's a brilliant bit of thinking," Freddy blotted her eyes on the sleeve of her shirt. "I know she'll love the idea."

###

Gwendoline viewed the hot cup of tea, in the decent china for once, with some suspicion. Both her daughter and Greg had been wearing wide-eyed smiles since she'd returned from having her little chat with Reverend Polglaze. She'd been about to raise the topic of hymns and music, when she'd been ushered into the one furnished sitting room on the ground floor, directed gently towards an armchair and handed a cup of tea. Both Freddy and Greg chose to sit across the polished circular occasional table from her, holding hands. There was an odd air of smugness about the pair of them.

A vague prescience prickled at the nape of her neck ... Freddy couldn't possibly be ..? Feeling her heartbeat jump at the very idea of grand-motherhood, she resolved not to cross any bridges before reaching them. Taking a surreptitious deep breath, Gwendoline blew across the rim of her bone china teacup and waited to hear whatever was about to be said.

Sharing a glance, Greg squeezed Freddy's hand. "Gwennie, Freddy and I've been thinking about a variety of things and we've got a proposition of sorts to put to you. We're not in any rush for an answer and would just ask you to think about the idea for a while before you say anything, alright?"

Not pregnant, then. Gwendoline wasn't sure if she was relieved or disappointed. Taking a delicate sip of her tea, she smiled urbanely and raised her eyebrows in inquiry.

"It's like this, Mummy," Freddy nibbled her bottom lip, a sign since her childhood of a search for the right way of phrasing a request. Narrowing her eyes fractionally, Gwendoline allowed her natural curiosity to step forward. Clearly both of them wanted her to do something for them but were unsure how to ask.

"If it's something to do with the wedding," she interjected, "then please don't hesitate to tell me if you've changed your minds about having me make the arrangements," she said, sipping her tea. "I shalln't be offended in the least."

Shaking her head, Freddy leaned forward. "This is more important than the wedding, Mummy," she paused, sharing a sideways look with Greg. "We want you to come and live here, with us. I'm virtually living in Greg's apartment already which is more than ample for the two of us and which means I have no real need to have this great big space down here," she spread her arms wide. "We've discussed the idea and we want you to consider selling the Harrow house and come to live here in the ground floor flat for as long as you want."

Replacing the cup gently in its saucer, Gwendoline glanced between the two earnest faces on the other side of the table. Judging by the faintly hopeful arch of their eyebrows, this was indeed a shared desire. Feeling a flush of heat rise at the thought that the both of them would be so concerned about her welfare that they'd even consider such an arrangement ... Gwendoline blinked several times as her eyes pricked with incipient tears and she retrieved her tea to mask her inability to swallow past the tightness of her throat. Taking a deep breath and then a second, she realised she couldn't possibly speak for fear of embarrassing herself.

Thinking Gwendoline's silence was one of reluctance, Greg smiled, leaning forward. "It's entirely up to you, you know," he offered quietly. "Neither of us want you to feel compelled to do anything you'd rather not," he shrugged a shoulder. "It's just that we all seem to get on so well together and I know that I'd certainly feel better knowing you're out of that antiquated and freezing cold box in Harrow ..." he paused. "At least have a think about it, hey?"

Regaining her composure, Gwendoline summoned up her vaunted savoir faire and put the cup down, linking her fingers together and clearing her throat. "I have no need for extensive thought on the matter," she said softly. "Is this something that the both of you would like, or is it just your sense of chivalry speaking, Gregory?"

Frowning a little, Greg shook his head. "It's got nothing to do with being chivalrous and everything to do with having someone I care about being able to live in a decent bit of housing," he said. "Of course, if you feel that moving here would interfere with your independence ..?"

"Of course not," Gwendoline sighed. "But you're going to be married soon and I doubt a mother-in-law is someone you need hanging around."

"We'd thought of keeping the back stairs as they are but perhaps putting a door at the bottom," Freddy sounded meditative. "That way, we'd be more like neighbours rather than living in the same house and that way, we'd all have our privacy. Don't forget we'll have our own main entrance through the garden door at the back of the house."

"My dear child," Gwendoline shook her head. "If you imagine at my time of life that I'd have the slightest concern about you waltzing through the ground floor to reach your own apartment, then think again," she paused. "I think your offer is incredibly generous in both a financial and a familial sense, and I thank you, but I have to think about this, I really do. When would you expect an answer from me on the matter?"

"It's not a time-limited thing, Gwennie," Greg sat back on the sofa, his arm sliding around Freddy's back. "The offer is there. If you want to come and live here, we'd both like that very much. You'd have free rein of the place and can chip in with the utility bills and rates if that would make you feel any better, though it's not going to be necessary as we plan to invest the money we get from the sale of the top flat and use the income from the investment to cover the everyday bills and general household outlay, which it will, as well as help towards getting the garden into shape. On top of that, I have my full income, and Freddy may be able to swing some research funding as well, so neither of us is going to be short of the ready, especially as we won't have any mortgage payments to make. You can have the place decorated to suit your own tastes and we can arrange for all your things to be brought here from Harrow, it's entirely up to you."

"This is from the both of us, Mummy," Freddy added before her mother could speak. "We wouldn't have asked you if we both didn't want this. It's completely your choice, of course," she added, standing. "We'll leave you in peace to have a think. Whatever decision you make, Greg and I will do our best to support you and see you comfortable."

Hand-in-hand they left the room, leaving Gwendoline with the late afternoon sunlight spreading its long, pale fingers across the floor. The older woman sat deep in thought until dusk was upon the room and her tea had long gone cold.

###

The occasion of Alex Harper's trial at the Old Bailey arrived two days later. Though he'd attended uncounted trials as either a witness for the prosecution or, on a few memorable occasions, as a witness for the defence, Greg found himself more than usually agitated. He'd not seen Harper since the interrogation at the Yard before Christmas and had kept himself on the periphery of the prosecution preparation. He brought his BMW around to the painted and polished, and rather grand, front door to collect the Kerrs.

Both women were dressed sombrely as befitting the occasion. Greg was wearing one of his better suits. Freddy looked slightly pale, though she'd been entirely normal since she had woken, even to the extent of initiating their dawn-lit lovemaking. Gwendoline seemed calm, though there was a certain set to her mouth that she got whenever she was at odds with something. There was a definite mood in the air.

"It shouldn't be that bad," Greg tried to ease the tense atmosphere in the car. "We'll all be called at different times and asked a range of questions. All you need to do is speak honestly and simply, let the Briefs do the rest of the work."

As soon as he was able to swing into the allocated underground police section of the court car park, Greg realised he needn't have been worried. Both women left the car with their backs ramrod straight, their shoulders back and a calm expression on their faces. He smiled as they walked passed him to the entrance to the Crown Court. Freddy turned and smiled comfortingly at him. The interior of the ancient building was often intimidating for new visitors, but both the Kerrs walked along the cool mosaicked hallways as if they did it on a regular basis.

The trial itself was depressingly mundane. In addition to Alex's own recorded and witnessed confession, there was also the evidence of Billy Swithins and Michael Camer, Alex's enforcer. Though the trial was for the Hatton Garden robberies and the drug distribution, Freddy and her mother were called to testify as to Harper's character and behaviour, the shooting incident figuring largely in the questions they faced. The several questions surrounding the actual events leading up to the actual shooting and the personal consequences of the event had Freddy turning paler than before, but she stood strong and her voice was firm and unwavering.

Greg was called last. It was clear he'd be returning in the near future for Camer's own trial which would include the manslaughter of Roy Armstrong. The proceedings were slow and deliberate and it was late in the afternoon before the jury retired for their deliberations. Greg was about to take the women home when the Clerk of the Court stuck his head around the courtroom door.

"The jury is coming back," he said, before vanishing back inside. Greg paused, looking at the two women.

"Then we shall see this through to the end," Gwendoline took her daughter's hand and together, they walked back the way they'd just come, taking seats near the back of the chamber.

Greg knew that such a swift decision could only mean that the jury believed Harper entirely innocent or entirely guilty and it wasn't difficult to work out which it'd be. Shortly after everyone had returned and the jury was back in the jury box, the presiding judge took his seat. After that, it was really only a matter of process and procedure. Alex Harper was pronounced guilty on all charges which left Greg feeling darkly vindicated. Remanded back into custody to await sentencing, that was the end of Alex Harper's grand plan to claim the title of Earl of Apley.

It was heading into darkness by the time they switched on the lights of the Pimlico house. By unspoken mutual agreement, everyone headed into the lovely pale green kitchen at the end of the house. While Freddy filled the kettle, Gwendoline walked over to a tall cupboard and brought out an untouched bottle of cognac.

"Louise sent me this last year as a sample of the first cognac they've made at the vineyard," she said, breaking the bottle's seal and sniffing the cork. The aroma of rich sherry and vanilla filled the air. "I can't think of a better time than now to test its mettle. Shall we?" she poured three solid measures into plain brandy balloons.

"You okay, Gwennie?" Greg wondered if the stress of the shooting and the house and the wedding was taking an unseen toll on the older woman. Maybe they shouldn't have asked her to give them so much help, after all, she was in her seventies. He frowned at himself for not thinking of this earlier.

"Never better, my dear boy," Gwendoline swirled the dark gold in her glass several times before inhaling the warmed scent of the fortified wine. A smell of raisins and sweet resin filled the air around her and she smiled. This was going to be a very fine brandy when it had been allowed to age more than the two mandatory years. "In fact," she said, sipping and closing her eyes as the flavour and heat of the wine flooded her mouth, "I have some news for you."

Waiting until the tea had been poured, Gwendoline sat in her chair at the wide kitchen table, admiring the way the pendant lights reflected off the shining windows and the gleaming wooden floors. It was indeed a lovely place and she would be a fool not to recognise the fact.

"I've been thinking a great deal about your suggestion that I come here and live in this house with you both," she said, swirling and smelling the cognac again. "And I think it's actually a very good idea," she nodded, smiling as both Freddy and Greg grinned. "Though I'd need to feel that I was not in any way going to be a burden on you, and therefore, I have a counter proposal to offer."

Settling back in his own chair, and vastly relieved his concern was uncalled for, Greg's grin grew wider as he sipped what was pretty decent brandy. He wondered what Freddy's mum had up her sleeve. Freddy hadn't touched either her tea or her glass and sat, tensed and thoughtful.

"I think living here is a very sensible idea," Gwendoline continued. "I've also been wondering what on earth I could give the pair of you as a wedding present, which is the moment I reached my decision," she smiled. "I will come and live on the ground floor of this beautiful and beautifully restored house, on one condition."

"Which is?" Freddy leaned forward. "Don't keep it a secret."

Smiling triumphantly, Gwendoline put her glass down. "That, after I've sold the Harrow house, you allow me to pay for the garden."

There was a breathless silence.

###

THE END (of Part I)

###

Thank you everyone for all your wonderful comments and thoughts.

This story has grown beyond my original plan and has taken on a life all of its own.

Rather than turn this into an epic saga, I have decided to move into a second stage of the story

where I can properly complete what has been begun.

Part II Coming soon!