15
Heath
‘What on earth is going on?’ asked Fran, watching the huddle of Heath, Rhett, and Florence barging into the kitchen through the side door.
‘Mum, when was the last time you checked your grandad’s war medal?’
Fran frowned in confusion at the random question thrown her way. ‘I have no idea. Why would I check that?’
‘Is it still in the cigar box in the office?’ he asked, heading that way.
‘It should be. Unless your dad moved it and didn’t tell me, but I can’t see why he would do that.’ Fran was hot on his heels. ‘What’s going on, son?’
Florence linked arms with Fran as soon as Heath flung open the office door. ‘We think it might have been stolen.’
Fran scoffed. ‘Why would anyone want an old medal they weren’t awarded?’
‘A Victoria Cross can sell for thousands, that’s why,’ said Florence, peering over Rhett’s shoulder.
‘That’s not right. No one should be able to buy someone else’s medal. They shouldn’t have prices on them. We’ve always kept it tucked away on the bookshelf. We had it on display once, but then I worried the light might do some damage, considering how old it is, so we put it back in its box, then kept that dust free by placing it in an old cigar box that belonged to my grandfather.’
Heath’s hand shook over the box, afraid to find out the truth.
Please be there. Please be there.
Begging wasn’t any good. There was no other option but to look. Slowly, he pulled the container from the bookshelf and opened the lid. He pulled away the tissue paper, relieved to see the medal box still there.
‘Open it,’ said Fran, her voice trembling as much as his fingers.
The distress sitting in Heath’s eyes told the room the bad news.
The Victoria Cross was gone.
‘Oh!’ Fran’s legs went, but Florence caught her and placed her gently onto a chair.
‘I’m so sorry,’ cried Rhett, holding her hand to her mouth. ‘I’m so sorry.’
Heath swallowed hard. His flaring nostrils and stern expression were quickly replaced with disbelief and guilt.
Everything his ancestor had gone through sitting by that bridge, so young, so afraid, wounded, not even thinking of gaining a pat on the back, and years later his medal taken. Just like that.
‘It’s our own fault. It should have been in the museum or somewhere safe, not here.’ He carefully replaced the cigar box on the bookcase and bowed his head in shame.
I’m so sorry I lost your medal.
‘How did this happen?’ asked Fran in a broken voice.
Florence crouched by her side, comforting her with slow strokes around her back. ‘Con artists targeted you.’ She looked up at Heath and nodded. ‘I think it was the medal all along. Rhett was just a bonus.’
Rhett leaned against the desk, her head low, and Heath couldn’t take her shame on top of his own. He turned to his mother, who looked even worse.
‘I’m sorry, Mum. I told Mary-Anne where the medal was when she asked. I didn’t think. It was just a conversation. I had no idea she was working me. We were just talking about family and ancestors and so on.’
Florence offered a weak smile. ‘Don’t beat yourself up. I know people who have been conned out of a lot, and they always carry such shame, but you’re not in the wrong. They are.’ She gritted her teeth and fists. ‘Ooh, I really hate these people. They go around ruining lives and they just don’t care. It’s so unfair.’
‘You’re angrier than me,’ said Heath, checking on Rhett, but she was still looking at the floor.
Florence nodded. ‘I am mad. You see, there’s something I haven’t told you. The reason everyone in my former circle pushed me out is… well, my sister is in prison for fraud. She didn’t do it,’ she added quickly. ‘She was conned too, just in a different way. It was my last step-dad. He got her to sign documents, putting things in her name and so on. Tiggy trusted him. He was full of charm, that one. But he was mixed up in all sorts of bad business. So you see, that’s how I know about the after-effects of scams. My sister is paying for someone else’s crime, and I was cast out like rubbish.’
Fran patted Florence’s arm. ‘It’s all right, lovely. No one’s judging you here. But can I ask, where’s your mum?’
Florence wrinkled her nose. ‘Probably in Saint-Tropez, trying to reel in her next rich victim. She’s like a con artist as well, only they label her kind gold diggers.’
Heath wondered how his dad would handle the situation. No doubt, better than he was. All he could think about was punching the wall.
Rhett finally stopped staring at the floor. ‘Would your old work colleague’s husband be able to trace the medal, Florence?’
‘I’ll ask.’ She pulled out her phone and went to work.
Fran stood, sighed deeply, and headed for the door. ‘I’m going to call the police. There’s probably not much they can do, but it’s best to have a report made.’
‘Was the medal insured?’ asked Florence, still tapping away on her screen.
Heath exchanged a knowing look with his mother. ‘No,’ he replied solemnly. ‘We didn’t think about it that way. It was just something we had a sentimental attachment to.’
Fran left, stating she’d put the kettle on.
Heath leaned on the desk, side by side with Rhett. He made sure his little finger lightly grazed over hers, then waited for her to look his way so he could offer a small smile. ‘Hey, it’s okay.’
She shook her head and a lone tear rolled down her pale cheek. ‘It’s not. If I hadn’t brought Dennis here, none of—’
‘You didn’t bring him here. They came for the medal. You heard what Florence said. It makes sense, Rhett.’
She breathed out a whoosh of air, almost laughing in his face. ‘I didn’t even love him.’
He knew the feeling. ‘I didn’t love her. Wow! They really did their homework on us, didn’t they?’
Rhett shrugged, leaning into his shoulder a little bit more, which soothed him a touch. ‘I guess that’s what they do.’
Florence looked up from her phone as she slid onto the chair where Fran had sat. ‘My colleagues are on the case.’
‘Did they say anything else?’ asked Heath.
‘Not much at this stage. Once the medal is reported to the police by Fran, the report can be sent over to the team tracking this criminal group, so they might contact you if they don’t get all the info they need from the report you’re about to file. They also said the medal was probably sold privately, as no reputable auction house would touch it without proof of ownership.’
‘So, we can kiss goodbye to ever seeing it again then.’ Heath sighed. His chest hurt along with his head.
‘You never know,’ said Florence, in her usual cheery voice. ‘One day, when the police catch the gang, and I do believe they will, lots of stolen goods might be returned. You have to be positive.’
Heath peeled himself off the desk and away from Rhett to peer out the doorway. ‘My mum’s heartbroken, and I just feel like the world’s biggest idiot.’ He spun around to face the women. ‘I didn’t even want to date Mary-Anne, I was just angry about…’ He stopped talking and lowered his gaze from Rhett’s.
‘Me with Dennis.’
‘I… It doesn’t matter now.’ He stormed out to go see his mum in the kitchen.
Fran had her head in her hands on the table, quietly sobbing, and the scene broke his heart in a million places.
‘I’m so sorry, Mum.’ He sat by her side and hugged her back.
‘It’s not your fault, son. I’m just upset because of what the medal stood for. All that bravery. He must have been so scared, and yet, there he sat, gun in hand, holding off the enemy. No one deserves to have that medal but him, and as we’re his family, it was our duty to protect it. Keep it safe.’ She met his eyes and shook her head. ‘Honestly, Heath, I had no idea it was worth anything to anyone else.’
‘They’re a gang of con artists known to the police. They won’t go on forever, and when they get caught, all the people they sell to will be revealed. Who knows, we might get the medal back.’
Fran smiled warmly as she gave his hand a light squeeze. ‘I think we both know it’s long gone, son.’ She got up to make the tea, pottering around as though it were just another day in the Silver kitchen. ‘I called Brian, down at the station. He’s on his way up.’
Heath shook his head at himself. ‘All that time, Mum, and we didn’t even look.’
‘There are lots of things around the house that don’t get looked at daily. Don’t start letting that whirl in your head. We don’t pull things out till we need them. I have no idea of half the things we’ve got stashed in the loft. Let’s just be grateful it doesn’t affect our farm.’
‘Are we all right for money, Mum? I’ve been struggling with Dad’s bookkeeping skills.’
Fran smiled softly as she nodded. ‘Yeah, the farm is as good as ever, son. Don’t you worry yourself about that.’
Heath rested his forehead on his knuckles and sighed. ‘This is so unreal. I can’t believe it. First Rhett, now us.’
‘What did she lose?’
‘Dennis took her savings. The stables were in trouble till I stepped in.’
‘Ah, so that’s why you’re now in business with Rhett.’
‘I could hardly let her go.’
‘No, son. You couldn’t.’
I wonder if she hates me. She only got hit on by Dennis because I was the target. The tables turned quickly on that one.
He glanced over his shoulder, but Rhett and Florence were still in the office.
Why can’t we have a normal life?
Heath had to uncurl his fists and try to relax. His anger had been building since Rhett told him the truth about their wedding day. Although the real truth of the matter was, he’d been angry since that day. And it was only starting to surface.
If only he hadn’t lost his voice all those years ago. If he could have just stood tall, fought Rhett’s dad. Fought for his own family. His parents did most of the talking, gaining him co-parenting access, and the day Rhett told him they would never be together again had dissolved what little energy he had left. There was no way he would let anything like that happen to him now, but back then he was a mess, overruled by Roland Smithson, then Rhett’s coldness.
Heath was starting to think he was jinxed or something. How could anyone’s life be so complicated? His backstory was filled with mistakes, and now he had one more to add to the stupid list.
If he thought he knew hate before, he was wrong, because now he was raging inside. Hell itself had surfaced, and he was ready for war with the next person who dared poke the bear.