The Show (46 page)

Magda thought about Gabe Baxter as she pulled on her clothes and whistled for Wilf. One of her duties was walking into the village for the morning papers, and the old border terrier enjoyed these early trips to the Preedys’ shop. Pulling her grey cashmere cardigan more tightly around her against the wind (a cast-off from Annabel, the cardigan was a bit bobbly but wonderfully warm), Magda set off with the dog trotting excitedly at her heels.

She’d lived with the Wellesleys for a year and a half now and had come to adore the Swell Valley, And yet, as much as she felt at home here, Magda was aware that she remained very much an observer. An outsider looking in.

She knew who Gabe Baxter was, and what was going on in his life. But even though he smiled at her whenever they met, Gabe knew nothing about her. To him, to everyone in the village, Magda was just a cleaner.

I’m invisible
, she thought. She wasn’t being self-pitying. She was simply observing a fact.

She could perfectly well have made more of an effort: joined the amateur dramatics society, or the bridge club, or started going to church. There were plenty of ways to meet people locally, to get involved. But she hadn’t. Part of her wondered why. Was it because she was Polish that she felt so removed from it all? Or was she simply too afraid of the ghosts of her past, her unhappy family life, to reach out to others? She felt safer on her own, alone in her little cottage. Most of the time she was content. But occasionally the loneliness got to her. Milo was the only person who really knew her, who noticed her at all. And knowing Milo was turning out to be something of a mixed blessing: lovely when she saw him, increasingly hard when she didn’t, and painful all the time because, whatever feelings she might have for him, she had no option but to ruthlessly stamp on then.

I’m the cleaner. He’s my bosses’ only son. This isn’t Cinderella.

Whenever she found herself tempted to reply to one of Milo’s hilarious emails, or to flirt back when he caught her eye or touched her hand on one of his rare trips home, she forced herself to remember the stunning girl sitting on his lap at the
Valley Farm
wrap party. Intelligent, beautiful and aristocratic,
that
girl was Milo Wellesley’s future. Not a young Polish cleaner too frightened of her own shadow even to get out of the house. As for Milo’s feelings for
her
, Magda knew that they were no more than a passing crush, the sort of whimsical notion that young boys got into their heads from time to time.

He’ll get over it. He only wants me because he can’t have me.

Magda bought the paper and headed home. As she turned the corner into Swan Lane, two police cars sped past her so fast she had to yank Wilf up onto the verge to prevent him being flattened. A third car followed a few seconds later.

Their speed was odd, but not their presence. Ever since Sir Edward had been triumphantly returned to Parliament as the local MP in a by-election that attracted unprecedented national coverage, the police had been regular visitors to his Riverside Hall surgeries, along with various local magistrates, county court judges and councillors. But when two more unmarked Mercedes came gliding along the lane, sinister shadows with blacked-out windows and quiet engines, like two cats about to pounce, Magda began to feel nervous.

This wasn’t normal. Something was up.

Her suspicions were confirmed back at the house. A veritable army of police and other official-looking vehicles were parked on the gravel drive, as if a messy child had got bored of his game of cops and robbers and left his toy cars scattered about everywhere. Wilf, sensing a drama brewing and not wanting to miss out, began barking frantically and straining at his lead. Unthinkingly, Magda reached down and unhooked the border terrier’s collar, sending him careering off towards the house like a fluffy brown missile.

Inside, Eddie was so angry it was a wonder flames hadn’t started shooting out of his nostrils.

Pacing in front of the library fireplace, he shouted at a policeman. A very senior policeman, if the rows of gold stripes on the shoulders of his jacket were anything to go by.

‘I’ve told you,’ he roared, ‘this is a mistake. All right? A mistake. Now I’d like you to leave.’

‘I’m afraid we can’t do that, sir,’ the policeman responded, with commendable politeness. ‘As I explained, according to our information—’

‘False information!’ Eddie seethed. ‘Where did you get it, I wonder? Could your “source” be David Carlyle, by any chance?’

The policeman said nothing.

‘This is a witch hunt!’ Annabel spat. ‘That’s what it is. The whole world knows that man’s on a mission to destroy Eddie. And now you, the police, the very people who are supposed to protect us, are bloody well
colluding
in it. Worse, you’re involving an innocent young woman.’

‘Lady Wellesley, no one’s colluding in anything,’ the policeman said calmly. ‘This has nothing to do with either David Carlyle or your husband.’

‘Like hell it doesn’t!’ spat Eddie, picking up the phone. ‘I’m calling my lawyer. This is harassment.’

‘Neither of you is under arrest, or even under suspicion. At this stage,’ the policeman added ominously, while Eddie dialled. ‘Our information comes directly from the Home Office. We came as early as we could this morning, to minimize disruption to the family. But the fact that the young lady appears to have absconded doesn’t bode well …’

‘No one has absconded, you ridiculous man,’ said Eddie. ‘I told you. Magda’s taken the dog for a walk, like she does every morning.’

With impeccable timing, Wilf sauntered into the library.

The policeman raised a laconic eyebrow.

‘This dog?’ Bending down he patted Wilf. ‘Because this dog does seem to be very much
here.
Wouldn’t you agree, Sir Edward? Whereas Miss Bartosz is very much
not
here.’

A scream, sudden and shrill, caught them all by surprise. Eddie dropped his phone and rushed into the hallway.

‘What the blazes do you think you’re playing at?’

Magda, wide-eyed and plainly terrified, had been pounced on by two burly officers. She looked desperately to Eddie for help as they dragged her back towards the front door.

‘Let go of her!’ Eddie shouted. ‘She’s an unarmed woman, for heaven’s sake. She’s not a suicide bomber.’

The two officers glanced at their boss, who nodded for them to continue. Ignoring Eddie, they dragged the still screaming Magda outside.

‘I’m sorry, sir. This is standard procedure in deportation cases.’

‘Well it shouldn’t be,’ said Eddie. ‘She’s a cleaner, not Osama bloody Bin Laden. In any case, Magda’s not here illegally. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. This is a mistake. You have no idea how much egg you guys are going to have on your faces tomorrow, Chief Inspector. Then again, you wouldn’t be the first idiots to be taken in by David Carlyle’s spin.’

The policeman put his hat back on. ‘I’m sorry, Sir Edward.’

‘You will be,’ said Eddie, rushing back into the library to retrieve his phone.

Carlyle had gone too far this time. Trumping up ridiculous charges against a perfectly innocent cleaner, all in a last-ditch attempt to smear Eddie’s name.

To Eddie’s immense relief, his lawyer picked up immediately. ‘Simon. Thank God. It’s Eddie. Now listen, we’ve got a real situation here.’

Outside, Milo pulled up in his black VW Golf just in time to see Magda being bundled into the back of an unmarked police car. Tears streamed down her face. She looked like an absolutely terrified calf being led to the slaughterhouse.

‘What the fuck!’ He raced over. ‘What’s happening? Get your hands off her!’

He tried to pull one of the policemen back by his shoulder but the officer shrugged him off easily, like a shire horse flicking away a fly. Milo tried again. This time it was Magda who stopped him.

‘It’s all right.’

‘It’s not all right. What’s happening?’

‘I … I think they’re going to deport me. I can’t go back there, Milo. I can’t!’ The tears welled up again.

Before he could say anything else, Magda was pulled inside the car and the door slammed shut. Milo watched in mute horror as she was driven away. Within seconds the other cars all followed. Nothing was left but a cloud of dust.

‘Did you know about this?’

Eddie’s voice, accusing, jolted Milo out of his stupor. He turned round to find his father standing right behind him.

‘Know about what?’

‘That she was here illegally. That she didn’t have papers.’

‘No.’ Milo looked down at his shoes. ‘I didn’t know. But after a while maybe I … I suspected.’

‘You
suspected?
And you didn’t think to
tell me
?’

‘I wanted to handle it myself. I was trying to help her.’

‘I think you’d better come inside,’ Eddie said furiously. His voice was almost a whisper but his lips were trembling and his fists clenched. That’s when Milo knew he was in deep trouble.

Back in the library, his mother twisted her diamond and sapphire engagement ring around and around and looked at him intently.

‘You were trying to help her?’

‘Yes,’ said Milo.

‘Even though you knew she’d lied to us? That she’d put your father’s career at risk? It was
Magda
you were concerned about?’

‘Yes!’ Milo defended himself. ‘You don’t know her, Mum. Neither of you does. She had a terrible childhood. Her dad was a drunk, abusive. All she ever wanted was a normal life, away from Poland. A fresh start. She works hard. Isn’t she the sort of person we should
want
to come to Britain?’

Eddie sighed deeply. It was a titanic effort to keep his temper.

‘You’re missing the point. I’m an MP, Milo. I can’t employ an illegal immigrant. The fact that I have, unwittingly or not … it’s a disaster. It’s the end. And
you
could have prevented it!’

‘By getting Magda sacked?’

‘She’s a charwoman!’ Annabel exploded. ‘What on earth is
wrong
with you?’

Milo looked at his mother with naked contempt. ‘Being a cleaner is Magda’s job. It’s not who she is. She’s an incredible woman.’

‘God give me strength …’ muttered Eddie.

‘I love her,’ Milo said baldly. ‘I’m in love with her.’

Annabel burst into laughter.

‘Laugh all you want,’ Milo said furiously. ‘But I’m going to marry her. I’d have thought you of all people would understand.’

‘Understand what?’ said Annabel.

‘What it’s like to fall in love with someone from a completely different world.’

Milo glared at his mother defiantly. It was an unspoken rule, since Annabel’s overdose, that the past,
her
past, was never mentioned or even alluded to. But her hypocrisy was too much for Milo to bear.

To his surprise, however, she reacted calmly.

‘You’re right,’ she said. ‘I do know what it’s like. And I can tell you it is damned hard.
Damned
hard. You have no idea what you’re signing up for, Milo.’

He turned to go but she called after him, her voice rising and ringing with emotion.

‘I’ll tell you something else, Milo. When
I
made those sacrifices, I made them in pursuit of a better life, not a worse one. Your father
was
from a different world, but it was a better world than the one I crawled out from. It was a world worth striving for, a life worth striving for! I wanted a better life for myself then, just like I want a better life for you now. So if you think I’m going to sit back and watch my only child crawl back into the bloody abyss that I’ve spent my life escaping, by marrying a penniless, immigrant
char,
you can think again!’

‘I don’t know what to tell you,’ said Milo, ‘except you’re wrong. I’m leaving now.’

He stormed out.

‘Hold on.’ Eddie ran after him. ‘Where are you going?’

‘What do you care?’ snapped Milo. He didn’t want to admit how much the exchange with his mother had shaken him. He knew that in her own, warped way, she was trying to show him love. But she was wrong about Magda, so wrong he didn’t know where to start.

‘Don’t be childish,’ said Eddie. ‘Of course I care. We both do.’

‘If you really want to know,’ Milo said grimly, ‘I’m going to see the person who turned Magda in.’

The colour drained from Eddie’s face.

‘For God’s sake, don’t! The damage is done, Milo. Magda will be deported and I’ll have to resign. If you try to confront Carlyle, he’ll have you done for harassment, or assault. Do you want to go to jail? Milo? Milo!’

The black Golf was already tearing off down the drive.

Louise Carlyle was making a pot of tea when the phone rang.

‘This is Eddie Wellesley.’

‘Oh! Er … hello.’

‘Is David home?’

Louise hesitated. David was home, watching the golf in the family room. But he’d been so much better recently, so much calmer and happier. She didn’t think she could bear it if the feud between him and Eddie Wellesley started up again.

‘I know you must be worried about him.’ Eddie’s voice sounded calm and kind. ‘But it really is important that I speak to him. It’ll only take a couple of minutes.’

Reluctantly, Louise took the phone through to David.

‘Eddie Wellesley, my arse. Who is this?’ David barked.

When he realized it really was Eddie, he was too shocked to do anything but listen.

‘I had nothing to do with it,’ he said, once Eddie finally stopped talking.

‘Oh, come
on
,
Carlyle. We’re both too long in the tooth for these games.’

‘I mean it,’ said David. ‘I know nothing about your cleaner, Wellesley. If it
had
been me, don’t you think I’d be shouting it from the rooftops?’

This was a good point. Even so, Eddie wasn’t sure whether he believed him.

‘My son, Milo, is on his way to you,’ he said. ‘Milo’s very fond of Magda and his blood’s up. I suggest you keep your gates firmly closed.’

‘Are you threatening me?’ David’s voice took on a harder edge.

‘Of course not. I’m warning you, you fool,’ said Eddie. ‘Perhaps I shouldn’t have bothered.’