Nothing Gained

By Angela B. Mortimer

What is love? Adrienne thinks she knows. She ran away from home and her rich, autocratic father when she was 16 because he told her to stop seeing her boyfriend. Adrienne thought it was because Joe was the wrong age, wrong class and her father thought her too young to know her own mind. However, it was more complicated than that and four years later Joe was dead; murdered.
Adrienne finds out the hard way that love isn’t a simple thing at all, there are so many different ways to love and not all are happy. Joe’s ex-partner tells her some terrible truths about just who her husband actually was, and from there it just gets worse.
She must choose life, not just hers, but for her family too and the safety of a man she has just met and thinks she can learn to love; a man her father actually approves of. However, there is Peter, who is in the way of that perfect ending, and she knows exactly who and what Peter is, and how she must contain him, no matter the sacrifices she makes, not least to her sanity, but sacrifices she must make for everyone she loves. Love is complicated and shifts and moves, slips away and back again, until she is unsure if she will ever grasp hold of it.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Angela B. Mortimer
• Release date: Mar 23, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310218279

Angela B. Mortimer

Born in the UK, married a gorgeous Aussie and have been living happily here ever since. Attended West of England college of art. Love reading sci-fi, fantasy and my fav subjects like genetics, planet sciences, philosophy, history - especially ancient, and of course space. I dreamt of being an astronaut. I've been writing since I could and painting for as long.I love the outdoors and gazing at the stars and wondering what might be out there.

Book preview

Nothing Gained

by

Angela B. Mortimer

Nothing Gained

PUBLISHED BY:

Angela B. Mortimer at Smashwords

Copyright © 2014 by Angela B. Mortimer

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to any persons, living or dead, or places, events, or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

Adult Reading Material

*****

Chapter 1

‘Ok Addy; open your eyes.’

Adrienne giggled as she did so, ‘Oh Joe, it’s beautiful,’ she said, looking out of the large window at the Thames. She turned to her husband. ‘You’ve bought it, haven’t you?’

He shook his head. ‘No, but if you like it I will.’

Adrienne ran from room to room. Slowly Joe followed her, watching as she opened cupboards and looked out of all the windows. She turned to him. ‘It’s wonderful, huge, loads of space. Joe, it must be worth a fortune?’

‘No, a couple.’

She hugged him and looked up into the lean, handsome face she loved so much, ‘Can we afford it?’

‘You just can’t believe anyone can be as rich as your old man, can you?’ He said it with a smile, but Adrienne lowered her head.

‘Sorry,’ she put her head on his chest.

Adrienne was tall, but Joe towered above her by nearly a head. She loved the feel of his hard-muscled body and the way they fitted so well into each other. He may be fifteen years older, but since they’d met three years ago, she’d never looked at anyone else.

‘Well, baby?’

‘Yes, please,’ she said lifting her lips to his, they kissed long and sensuously.

They’d met at one of Joe’s clubs. Adrienne sneaked out with a couple of friends, after telling her parents she was staying the night at one of their homes. She’d rushed out of the house before her mother could ask where, and turned her phone off so she couldn’t be checked up on, she‘d be in trouble when she got home, but she didn’t care, she wanted danger, and doing the opposite of what her parents wanted, was dangerous.

All the other girls escaped the same way. It was the school holidays and they were staying at Amanda’s house, her parents were away in Portugal, and her older brother promised to keep quiet as he was having his girlfriend over. It suited him to get his younger sister out of the way for most of the night. This was the first time the girls had gone out to an adult club, and they were excited at their wicked escape from adult supervision.

Adrienne and Joe’s eyes met, and before anyone else could get near, he asked her to dance. He stayed with her most of the evening and took them all home afterwards. As the other girls got out, he gently held Adrienne back and asked her out.

He behaved like a gentleman for weeks, until the full force of their feelings for each other got the better of them, and he made love to her.

Not long after, her suspicious father hired a private investigator, and as soon he read the report, he forbade her to, ever see Joe again. Adrienne was as tough and as strong-willed, as her father was, so she refused, running out of the house with nothing, to be with her Joe. As she was sixteen, by law she could leave home, but not marry, so she and Joe married on her eighteenth birthday. If Adrienne wanted something badly enough, you couldn’t change her mind, and she wanted Joe very much.

Contrary to everyone’s expectations, their love deepened and she had no regrets, only her mother was alone with her very autocratic father, when he was home, he spent a lot of time away.

They made love in the kitchen. Then they heard a sharp knock and the door opening, Adrienne quickly pulled down her skirt and put her knickers in her handbag, while Joe zipped up his trousers. Adrienne giggled.

The estate agent came in with his usual fixed smile, ‘Well, what do you think? Marvellous views aren’t they? As I said, you will have to make your mind up quickly, these river-view penthouses go very quickly.’

Adrienne sneaked off to the bathroom, while Joe and Mr James got down to business. When she came back into the kitchen, they shook hands over the deal.

‘Congratulations Mrs Branston, it is a beautiful property and a very good investment too.’

‘Yes, it is,’ she agreed, ‘thank you, Mr James, ‘

‘We can get the papers going right away, it shouldn’t be long being finalised, you can move straight in once it’s all gone through, no chain,’ he said, with the same smile glued onto his face.

Mr James couldn’t fail to notice young Mrs Branston was a beauty, tall, nicely built, long, shiny, black hair like a shampoo ad, a real looker. Realising he was staring; he looked over to her husband and made another positive comment about his choice.

The pair seemed incongruous. She was posh, and Joe Branston a rough diamond. You could tell by his accent, long hair and heaven forbid, tattoos on his arms. It takes all kinds he thought, lucky sod.

He saw them down to their car parked in the basement. That too shouted money - a brand new Jag.

‘Mr. James, I have a few cars I drive regularly, any chance of getting more than two car spaces? I don’t mind paying above the odds.’

‘I can ask around, I know some of the older tenants don’t have cars, there’s plenty of public transport nearby,’ he said, still in selling mode. ‘May I ask how many?’

‘Two more would be fine. Cars and bikes are my hobbies. I’ll still keep my present property as there’s plenty of room to keep the others there, but I’d be grateful if you could arrange something.’

Mr James knew then it was Joe Branston who had the money, and not his very lovely wife.

‘Of course, I’m sure if you offer enough, someone will take you up on it, I’ll get onto it right away.’

He watched and waved as they drove away, then grimaced. Rich bastards like that always got the best-looking women, just like his boss, but he’d take Mrs Branston over Miriam Steel any day.

‘Are you sure Joe? You won’t be able to keep all your cars and bikes handy.’

‘Doesn’t matter, I didn’t expect to, as I said before, the garage isn’t the sort of home I want for us in the long term, but I’ll still keep it for my cars, and John can keep his downstairs flat. We can still have our get-togethers upstairs in our space. The old flat’s a great place for parties and keeps the new one nice.

‘What a great idea Joe,’ Adrienne agreed.

Joe had sixth staff, or his gophers as he called them, working at the garage; his converted warehouse was in a much less salubrious area than the proposed penthouse. Bermondsey was up and coming, the garage was stylish and open plan, but he wanted better for his wife. Three gophers were mechanics, they kept his many cars and bikes in top condition, and Joe let them do the odd private job in the garage. Steve Preston cooked and cleaned, and ran errands and helped out as needed, and Joe’s driver, John Clark lived in the downstairs flat. A couple of these men were distant relatives, another two he’d been at school with. Frank Anderson was his business manager, who did all the paperwork and had worked for his dad. They all agreed Joe was a great guy, none better, and his besotted wife agreed with them.

She looked with great tenderness at her husband and smiled.

Joe smiled back, ‘What’s the matter beautiful?’

‘Nothing, only I love you Joe Branston.’

‘And I love you back Mrs Branston. I fancy a pint. I know a great pub not far from here, how about something to eat?’

‘Yes please, I’m starving.

Six months later Joe was dead. It was just two weeks before Adrienne’s twentieth birthday.

Chapter 2

Joe rarely left Adrienne alone for any length of time; he saw to his various businesses and then came straight home. Knowing his wife, no one was surprised he didn’t go on the prowl for skirts anymore, even though there were skirts in plenty at his clubs.

Adrienne was very worried, it was four o’clock in the morning, and he hadn’t come home. She’d expect a call if he’d been tied up somewhere, he’d said he’d be home around midnight. She couldn’t sleep, but prowled around the penthouse, ringing his mobile at intervals. She’d already confirmed he left the club at eleven. She rang every person who might know where Joe was, without luck.

It was light - dawn washed the sky with strange yellow-grey light, as the clouds and sun vied for dominance. Adrienne clutched yet another untouched cup of coffee when she heard the intercom go. She was half-relieved and half-furious. ‘Joe?’

‘Mrs Branston, it’s reception. There are some people on the way up to see you?’

‘Who?’

The guard was reluctant to tell her, ‘The police….’

The phone slipped from her hand and she felt sick, the front door buzzed. She let them in fearing the worst, and then they were telling her the bad news. She didn’t take it in at first until they repeated it.

‘No, it’s not Joe - you must be mistaken.’

‘He was recognised Mrs Branston, is there anyone who can come with you to identify the body?’ asked the young policewoman gently.

She thought about her mother, and then her father’s face appeared, and she shook her head. All she could think was, why wasn’t she crying?

‘There must be someone,’ the woman insisted.

‘Only John Clark at the garage,’ she said at last, as he came into mind.

‘Do you have the number?’ the woman persisted, although Adrienne still wasn’t listening, so she repeated her question.

‘I’m sorry, on my phone,’ Adrienne pointed to the table.

The younger uniformed policeman picked it up.

‘Mrs. Branston perhaps you should get dressed?’ the woman said gently. This was worse than usual - what a very pretty girl, and so much younger than she expected.

‘Yes of course.’

Adrienne went into the bathroom to brush her teeth and comb her hair. Looking into the mirror she didn’t recognise the pale face staring back at her, she had no colour in her face or her lips. Going back into the bedroom, she opened the mirrored door to the walk-in-robe, but then saw Joe’s oriental dressing gown reflected in it, the one she’d bought him last week, it was thrown over the small couch. After shakily getting dressed in jeans and t-shirt, she rummaged around in her jackets, she pushed hangers back and forth for what she wanted until she pulled most down in a heap, she grabbed the one still hanging, it hardly mattered if it matched. She looked at Joe’s robe once more, before walking back into the living area.

‘I hope you don’t mind Mrs Branston? I’ve made you a cup of tea while we wait for John Clark to get here.

‘No, of course not.’ Why wasn’t she crying?

She couldn’t drink the tea because she couldn’t get the cup close enough to her mouth, her neck refused to bend far enough and her hands shook. She put her cup down and squeezed her hands together so tightly they went white.

At last, John Clark arrived and sitting next to her, put her hands into his large, rough ones.

‘I am so sorry Addy, Joe was the best.’

Now she cried, ‘It might not be him, John,’ she said between sobs, and put her head on his substantial shoulder. He shook too, and let Adrienne cry all over his best leather jacket.

The police left, leaving the address with John. When Adrienne stopped weeping, he took her to identify the body.

There was no doubt, it was her husband. He still looked beautiful to her, even if he looked like a new zombie and worse, smelt awful. She fainted. After she’d recovered, she still couldn’t get the awful plastic cup of tea to her mouth without spilling it. John was busy, making calls on his mobile, while Adrienne sat next to the police officer who first told her the bad news. Adrienne suddenly realised she hadn’t asked how he died? Wasn’t that the first thing they did on the television shows? She felt an overwhelming desire to giggle suddenly and stopped it with an odd sigh.

‘How?’ she managed to say.

‘The details aren’t finalised yet, not until after the post mortem.’

Why would anyone want to kill him? Everyone loved him, except…’

‘Except?’

‘My father, but he would never…’

John took her home, as she was still in shock, he rang an aunt of Joe’s to come over and see to Adrienne. She’d refused his offer to ring her mother because it might bring her father too.

Joan Petrie was an old fashioned East-Ender - tough on the outside but a bit of a softie inside. She had been a nurse until recently and soon had Adrienne undressed and in bed. She also called Adrienne’s private GP. He came over quickly and gave Joan a script for a sedative to help the girl to sleep. John went out to fill it.

‘Poor kid.’ said Joan to John over a cup of tea. ‘I can’t believe it, everyone liked Joe and they were so happy.’ John saw tears in her eyes. ‘Such a pretty child, they were both so attractive. Shame they didn’t have a baby.’

‘You know as well as I do Joan, nowadays the youngsters wait a while before starting a family.’

‘And look at what happens? She’d be grateful enough for a baby now to take her mind off things,’ Joan replied with her usual sharp tongue. ‘You look like you need a nap too, John?’

‘Yeah, I feel lousy, to be honest, Joan, but I need to get back to the garage, they’ll want to know what’s happening.’

‘I can stay with the girl today John, but you know my old man, he’ll want me home to cook his tea for him, or he’ll be in a foul mood.’

‘Don’t worry Joan. I’ll come back soon, so you can go home. I’d better spend the night here. I’m too old and ugly to cause a scandal. She won’t ring her mother - I’ve tried to talk her into it…’

‘Snooty lot; Joe wasn’t good enough was he?’

They interviewed Adrienne again later that day - just after Joan left to make sure her old man had his tea on time. Adrienne still looked terrible thought John, and the sedatives made her sound slow. Even pale, and without her usual vivaciousness, she looked pretty and vulnerable, how tragic this was.

An older man interviewed her this time. Adrienne still wasn’t functioning, so John took the business card offered, and went into the kitchen, leaving her alone with the two plainclothes policemen.

‘I am so sorry for your loss Mrs Branston, but if you are up to it, we need to ask you some questions?’ Detective Inspector Gerrad asked.

‘Yes?’

‘Can you think of anyone who would want to hurt your husband, Mrs Branston?’ Adrienne shook her head. ‘You mentioned your father?’

It took a while for Adrienne to find her voice. ‘He hated Joe, but my father would never kill him, or have him killed’ she added, a little sharply, Gerrad noted, ‘I admit he can use his money to make life difficult if someone is in his way, but Joe is too smart for that.’

‘So he made trouble for your husband, at his clubs perhaps?’

She didn’t want to elaborate, she’d only overheard the gophers saying Joe had fixed her old man messing in his business. Joe had not told her. John would know more.

‘I’m not sure of the details, I just overheard something, I’m not even sure who said it,’ she said truthfully.

‘Is there anyone else he may have mentioned?’

Adrienne shook her head, ‘Not as far as I know, he didn’t discuss business with me, only if he wanted to buy a new car or go on a holiday. Frank Anderson, was his business manager, he may know more.’ Adrienne found the past tense hard to cope with. ‘How was he killed?’ she asked again.

‘We should be able to tell you soon Mrs Branston. But I can say it was foul play. We will need to speak to everyone he employed.’

‘Yes, of course, John will help you.’

‘We may need to speak to you again Mrs Branston?’

Adrienne nodded.

Adrienne dressed carefully for the funeral. She found a black suit she’d worn for one of Joe’s elderly relatives send-off, as his family called funerals. She wore a hat too, determined to show her husband every respect, his family would expect it, but the hat and suit made her pale face look even paler.

Joan Petrie went in the car with her, she still hadn’t contacted her parents, making an excuse when her mother wanted to see her for lunch, because of course, she would tell her father, and he’d interfere, as he always did.

The service seemed to last forever, everyone wanted to get up and say nice things about Joe. It felt to Adrienne as if it were a stranger’s funeral until the coffin slid behind the curtains, then it felt real, and for a brief moment, she felt an overwhelming desire to leap after it and stop the burning. Joan, sensing her feelings, put her arm around her and handed her a tissue, as at last, she started to weep.

As she walked out, she saw her parents standing at the back of the room. Her father’s face was hard and unyielding, but he made an attempt at a smile, for all his strictness, even hardness when his daughter crossed him, she knew he loved her. Her gentle mother had tears in her eyes. Adrienne looked away and walked passed them.

She still avoided them when they came back to the large flat above the garage for the wake, the one they used for happier parties. As expected, Joe’s noisy and