Secrets And Lies

 

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Prologue

The bed started to creak and she knew he was home.  She went quietly to her own door and peeped out along the landing.  His door was slightly ajar.  Not closed properly, she suspected, and had rotated open a little.  She went up to it and peeped in.  He had his back to her. She was behind him before he realised she was there.
“Let me do that for you,” she asked.  He pushed the magazine away, but not far, and covered himself with his hands in his lap.
“You shouldn’t creep up on people like that.  Can’t I have any privacy?”
“Let me do that for you.  I don’t have any brothers and it took me all my courage to come in here and ask you.  I've never done it before,” she lied.  “If you say no, I will probably never have the courage to ask again.”
She slipped her hand under his and found his shaft.  It was shrinking fast. With some careful squeezing she felt it coming back to life.
“Why don’t you get up on the bed and I’ll go and get some hand cream.  It will feel much nicer if I do that. That picture has been touched up, by the way.”
“Which one?”
“The Centrefold.”
“How do you know?”
“I’ve seen enough of them in real life to know that one has been touched up.”
“When have you seen them?”
“In change rooms, dormitories, we all look at each other.  Don’t boys do that?”
“How do you know what to do?” He asked changing tack.
“I’ve seen videos. Come on,” and she helped him up onto the bed.  He heard her go back to her own room, a drawer open and close, and then her returning footsteps.  He had pulled his trousers up and refastened them.

“Oh dear, now I’ll have to start from scratch,” she said giggling and she undid the buckle of his belt and loosened it.

 

 

 

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Chapter 1

My name’s Harry.  I’m sixteen years old.  Forty-five minutes to go and I am out of here for the week-end.  Another three weeks and it will be all over, red rover.  I’d stopped listening to Hargreaves explanation of some obscure piece of English grammar half an hour ago. No homework tonight, so it will be straight home, then out again with my mates, until mum comes home from work.
The classroom door opened. The Headmaster walked in. I straightened my posture, automatically, as did the others in the class.  Hargreaves looked across at the Head, surprised.  They spoke in a whisper, eying the class occasionally. I thought they were looking at me.

“Come here Edgeworth.” Hargreaves commanded.  I rose with trepidation, not sure what I could possibly have done to warrant this attention.  My friends all helped me along as I passed their desks.
“Won’t be able to sit down for weeks.”  “Shove something down your trousers.”  “I’ve never seen two people look so livid.” “Good luck, you’re going to need it.”
“Follow me Edgeworth,” the Head said.  “Your uncle is here.”

I had never been in the Head’s rooms before.  I didn’t want to be there now.  Even though I had been warned, I was still shocked to see my Uncle David standing in the middle of the room.  There was something eerily incongruous about my family being in the Headmaster’s study.  I felt worse.
“Hi, Harry,” uncle said, half smiling, half not.  Nothing was helping here.
“Hi Uncle David.  What are you doing here?”
“I’ve got some bad news, Harry.  I want you to to be strong.  I will understand if you can’t.”

I said nothing, just stared at uncle, then at the Headmaster.  The Head smiled encouragingly.
“Let’s sit down, shall we?”  The Head went behind his desk and we sat down in the two chairs in front.
“There’s been an accident.  Your mum’s been knocked down.  The ambulance was called but, I’m sorry, Harry, she didn’t make it.”
I digested.  “Mum’s dead?  I can’t be.  I saw her go to work this morning.  She was alright then.”  The shock had disorientated me.  The reality of what I had been told would kick in soon enough.  In the meantime, I couldn’t think of anything sensible to say.

“Mum’s dead?”
“I’m sorry.”
“Fuck.  Where was God when this was happening, eh?”

I was on the verge of losing control.  If I had had prior notice, I knew I could accommodate this better. For years, I had been training my brain to cope with an unknown, future, strong, emotional crisis.  I always thought it would be when a girl threw me over; I had been preparing myself. It worked with dad, when he died.  I wanted to be on my own right now, to sort it out in my own way but I couldn’t think of how I could escape. I needed to get back in control.  All rational thought eluded me.

It was purely by accident that I came across a television programme.  I was looking for something else, but this caught my attention.  It was a doctor talking about stress and how to get rid of it.  The gist of his argument was that stress is an intangible thing, but if we could convert that to something tangible, it would be easier to deal with.  His solution?  Eat lots of bread; then when you go to the toilet imagine that you are pushing all the stress out with your faeces.  It worked and I adapted it to everything else that bothered me.  I imagined a shopkeeper pulling the shutters down on his shop, separating his two worlds.  I have a shutter now, and when I need to, I just pull it down, shut out the current world and enter a new, better one.  That’s what I want to do now: pull the shutter down, so that I can think straight.

“Harry?”  It was my uncle.
“I just want to be quiet uncle.  I want this thing to go away.  If it won’t, I need time to adjust myself.  I don’t think I’m going to break down, but that doesn’t mean I’m not in turmoil.”
“Do you want to stay here?  I can leave you.”  It was the Headmaster.  
“I’ve been here before, Headmaster.  It’s better if you can stay.”  Uncle said. The Head nodded and stayed where he was.

“Harry, I’m going to make some decisions for you, to take us through the next twenty-four hours.  Anything you don’t like, we can change, but we have to do something.  You’re not thinking straight, and nor should you be, so let me organise things temporarily.”
“Okay, whatever uncle.  Thanks.”
“There is a car outside with a detective and a driver.  They’re going to take us to an apartment for tonight.  Tomorrow is another day.  We’ll take one day at a time, for now.”
“Detective?  Why?”
“I’ll explain everything, Harry, but in time, okay?”
“Okay.  I’ll leave everything to you, uncle.”  Uncle stood up, followed by me and the Head, both at the same time.  The Head came round from behind his desk.
“I am very sorry, Edgeworth.  I feel inadequate but I am so very sorry.”  I think I half smiled or grimaced, I had no idea what my response looked like, but at that moment, I genuinely appreciated what the Headmaster had said.  The Headmaster took my hand in his and shook it warmly.

I thought there would be a police car waiting outside, but it wasn’t, just an ordinary Ford.  There were two people standing by it: a man and a woman.
“This is Claire and this is Roland,” David said.
“Hi Harry”, they said together.
“Hi.”  I got in the back seat with Uncle Harry.  No one spoke during the drive.  I was glad of that.

It took three days for me to emerge from the bedroom.  I needed the time and when I was ready, I went out. The woman was reading a newspaper, a cup of coffee on the table in front of her.  She looked up and smiled.
“Want some breakfast?”
“What have you got?”
“Cereal, toast, eggs, bacon.  What do you fancy?”
“Toast, thanks.” I sat down at the table with her.
She looked at me, still smiling.  I hadn’t been crying, if that ‘s what she was looking for. I was dressed in the same school uniform I had on yesterday but by this time it had become creased and crumpled.  She got up from the table and went over to the kitchen bench.
“Two slices?”
“Please.”
“Something to drink?”
“What is there?”
“Tea, coffee, milk, fruit juice?”
“Juice, thanks.”
“Your uncle brought some clothes over.  They’re in that case by the door.  He didn’t want to disturb you.”

She placed the toast in front of me and fetched some marmalade and butter.  She looked late twenties, nice figure, medium height, not as tall as me by a long shot, even with shoes on, and pleasantly good looking.  She didn’t look like a policeman.
“How are you feeling?”  
“Okay, I guess.”
“A bit confused?”
“Very confused.  Are you a policeman?”
“A detective, yes.”
“Why are you here?”
“You mean why aren’t you at home with your uncle looking after you?”
“He’s not a real uncle.  Not related to mum or dad.”
“All we know is that your mum was knocked down by a car in a supermarket car park and the car didn’t stop.  It could be the driver got scared of facing the consequences, or it could be he or she drove away on purpose.  We don’t know.  It also seems that you have been particularly unlucky, losing both parents in accidents.”
“Dad fell off a bridge.”

“Exactly.  We don’t like coincidences, so we’re keeping our eye on you, until we find the driver of the car.” 
“How long will that take?”
“Don’t know.”
“I’m going to be living with you here until you find them.  That might be months.”
“No, it won’t.  Your uncle, David, is coming by this morning.  He’ll probably be able to fill you in more than I can.”
“What day is it?”
“Monday.”
“I should be at school.”
“They’re not expecting you to go back.”
“Not at all?”
“No.”
“I should be celebrating that fact.”
“You don’t like school.’
“Not much.”
“More toast?”
“Are the eggs and bacon still on offer.  I’m starving.”

David came by just as I was finishing breakfast.  “Bacon and eggs?  You’re living well.  How are you?”
“Okay, thanks.  The detective is a good cook.”
“She’s called Claire.”
“I explained to Harry that we are keeping our eye on him until we find the hit and run driver that knocked over his mum.”  She gave uncle a knowing look, which I spotted. “I also explained that he doesn’t have to return to school this term.”
“This was my last term, anyway.”  I said.
“We have a lot to talk about, Harry.  Are you up for it?”
“Sure.”
“Any time you feel you want to rest and be by yourself, just say, and you can retire to the bedroom until you are ready again.  We are not sure that your mum’s accident was, in fact, an accident just as we are not sure that your Dad’s accident was an accident.  We think your parents may have been targeted for some reason.”
“Why, mum was only a secretary.  I’m not sure what dad did but I’m sure it was some boring job that nobody else would be interested in.”
“That’s right, but if they were targeted, it would be for a reason.  Maybe they knew something or witnessed something that they shouldn’t have.  There are all sorts of reasons, even mistaken identity.”
“So, where does that leave me?”

“Until we know what happened, we have to keep you hidden away.  That doesn’t mean staying here with Claire, but it does mean moving to a new location, where nobody recognises you.”
“By myself?”
“No.”
“What exactly are you talking about Uncle David?  What is going to happen to me?”  I need some order out of this confusion.  It’s obvious they know a lot more than they are saying and, because of this, I’m finding it impossible to fit the pieces together.
“Let’s assume that they were both legitimate accidents.  That still leaves you without parents or full-time guardians.  I am the nearest thing to family that you have got, and that’s not enough.  You’re only sixteen, too young to be on your own.”
“So?”
“So we need to find someone to look after you, someone you can live with. It’s a daunting prospect but whatever the police discover, is not going to change your circumstance.”
“I need to be on my own again.”  I got up from the table and went back into the bedroom. What a bloody mess.  Dad’s gone, Mum’s gone and I’m on my own.  Where am I going to live?  Who will have me?  Uncle Harry?  There’s no one else. I’ll bring my shield down again and that will shut out the pain, but there are some things I don’t have an answer to. All the answers are out there.  I’d better go out and see what they have in mind.  Am I under protection or something?  Do they think my life is in danger?  That’s ridiculous.

 “Will anyone have me?”  
“Of course they will, but just anyone won’t do, will they?”
“What do you mean?”
“Until you wish to leave home and make your own way in the world, where you go next is your new home, for the foreseeable future.”
“Permanent?”
“Yes, permanent.  I want to establish you in a family as part of that family, with their name.”
“You’re going to change my name?”
“We have to do something and yet we are not in possession of enough facts, so we have to err on the side of safety.”
“Do you really believe I am in danger of some sort?”
“You might be.”
“What odds.”
“Fifty-fifty at this moment.”
“Wow.  You’re serious.”
“This is serious, Harry.”

I stayed another week with Claire in the apartment.  My mind settled, even though there were still a number of unknowns.  As a family, we had travelled a lot and I had no roots anywhere.  The same thing applied to relationships.  As soon as one was formed, we were on the move again.  Claire announced that Uncle David had found somewhere for me.  That was quick.  Claire told me over our evening meal.  She had made steak and chips; her chips were really good.  I flooded mine with tomato sauce, as I usually do. 
“Have some food with your sauce why don’t you?”  Claire said smiling at me.  I smiled back.
 “Are you really a detective, Claire?”  I asked.
“Yes,” she replied.
“You have a gun and handcuffs?”
“Yes, but I am not going to show them to you.  David has found a place for you to live.”
“Where?”
“West Country.”
“There are some issues we have to deal with.”
“Like what?”
“Your name.”
“They’re not going to change my name, surely.  How can I live with a lie like that for the rest of my life?”
“To be sure and to be safe, we have to make you disappear, to all intents and purposes.  That means a new life and a new name. David told you a new name would be on the cards.”
“Do you know what it is?”
“Harry Underhill.”

Claire took me to Devon on the train.  During the journey she explained what David had told her.  Arthur Underhill and Harry’s father were brothers but bad blood had caused their relationship to end before Harry was born.  Harry’s father even changed his name from Underhill to Edgeworth.
This is a big lie, she told him.  The best lies are those closest to the truth.  Everything else about your background stays the same:  the death of your father and mother, you schooling, friends and life up to now.
“Have you got identification?”  I asked out of the blue.  “This was going too far on trust alone.
“Yes, why?”
“I’d like to see it, please.”  Claire got it out of her bag and handed it over.
“What’s the matter?”
“I just can’t believe this is right.  Sure, I believe my mother had an accident, but all the rest of it seems unreal.”
“You are on your own.  You need to join a family because you are too young to be on your own, unless you want to become a homeless street kid.  Forget the confusion about whether your mother’s death was an accident or intentional.  That’s muddying the waters here.  You have to re-join a family, full stop.  The only difference is; you are adopting their name because you are disappearing.  That’s the only change.  Of course it’s unreal, but there is nothing to be suspicious about.”

“What’s this family like?”
“I have no idea.  Just that it is Arthur and Jean Underhill and a daughter Cathy who is about the same age as you.”
“Where do they live?”
“West Bramley, just outside of Exeter.”
“How did you find them so soon?”
“David took care of it.”
“What does he do?”
“I’ve no idea.  I was told to co-operate with him by my boss.  I think they’re all paranoid about something happening to you.”
We took a taxi to the Underhill home, Claire went in for a cup of tea, then Arthur drove her back to the railway station.  

 

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Chapter 3

They were getting along well.  Despite her initial trepidations about his coming, she had grown to like him.  He was personable and all of her friends thought he was great.  He had never done anything that made her nervous or upset her.  On the odd occasions she had forgotten, as she went from the bathroom to her bedroom with little on to cover her nakedness, he had always turned the other way and apologised and waited for her to disappear.  She didn’t do the same when he came out dressed in his pyjama shorts; she ogled him.  He must have known, but neither said nor did anything suggestive.  At one stage she wondered if he batted for the other side but dismissed it, purely on the basis it would be such a waste. 
 
“It’s been nearly twelve months.  You’d think the police would had discovered something, wouldn’t you?” Arthur said over dinner one night.
“Say if they find out that it was indeed an accident.  Does that mean Harry will go back?” Cathy asked.
“No, I shouldn’t think so.  Where would he go?”
“Perhaps it was just an accident.”  Harry offered.
“David is coming down this Sunday, maybe he will know something.” Arthur said.

Sunday arrived and so did Uncle David.  He took Harry into his bedroom for a “chat”, as he called it.  Cathy hoped Harry would tell her everything that was said.  

“What did he want?” Cathy asked at the first opportunity.
“He wanted to talk about my future.”
“And what’s that?”
He wants me to go to France to finish my studies.”
“What, now?”
“No; I’ll finish this year then start a new term in France.”
“Doing what?”
“He suggested the National Institute for Oriental Languages and Civilizations in Paris, specializing in Indonesian and Mandarin.”
“Come on, there’s more than that.”
 
“It’s not running away.  Uncle David has suggested a career that I might like to pursue.  He has connections and will provide an opening for me in Jakarta in an import export business.  They also have offices in Saigon and Hanoi in Viet Nam and Shanghai in China.  He can get me started and with my language skills, he thinks it will be a good fit for me.  Plenty of travel, living in a new country, that sort of thing.”
“I can’t believe this is happening,” Cathy spluttered. “I’m just getting used to having a brother, Harry, and I like it.”  She was on the verge of tears and only just managed to get the last phrase out.  She turned and hurried away so that he could not see her distress.  Harry was surprised at her reaction.  Undoubtedly, they were getting along well and shared many things that they wouldn’t share with any else.  He had been put in her classroom because she was the only person he knew in a strange school, but more often than not, he was somewhere else, continuing with his languages, which he loved and consequently was advancing at a ferocious rate.  He liked the future that Uncle David had mapped out for him and although he had always envisaged using his languages in Europe, he relished the challenge of the Far East, its customs and different lifestyle.  He admitted to himself he knew absolutely nothing about the region and was determined to start finding out more. And another thing.  He could not see himself staying with the Underhills indefinitely.  He questioned more and more the fact that his father was Arthur’s brother.  They were nothing alike, had nothing in common, as far as he could see.  The lie spun, if in fact it was a lie, was convenient, but he would like to know why Arthur and Jean Underhill accepted him so readily, in such a short space of time.  No, things weren’t as they appeared.  There were many lies but Harry could not see much point in exposing them.  He was happy and the Underhills appeared happy.  Only another six months and he would be gone anyway.  Perhaps he would come back on holidays.  He’d like to see Cathy again.  She had proved to be a good soul mate. He intended to keep in touch with her.

The rest of the year passed without incident and the subterfuge involved following his mother’s accident was fading.  It was brought sharply into focus when, the last day of term, Claire came to the school and collected him.  

The whole class looked up when she and the Head came into the room.  Cathy’s heart started to race as a premonition of something bad passed over her.  The Head spoke to the teacher and Harry was called over.  He looked at Cathy quizzically as he got up from his seat, shrugged his shoulders to say I have no idea what is going on, and left the room with Claire.
 “What’s up?”  Harry asked her when they were outside.
“Something’s happened.  We thought it best to bring our plans forward a little.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re coming with me to Bristol, then to Cardiff then we’ll hire a car and drive to a cottage in a Tredegar.  Then you’ll be going to Paris.”
“What happened?”
“Someone blew up your old house.”
“Was there anybody in it?”
“Yes, the couple that bought it.”
“Are they alright?”
“No, Harry.  They didn’t make it.”

Harry was silent.  Did whoever blow up the house, think he was still in it? If so, their intelligence wasn’t that good.  
“Did they think I’d be in it?”  Harry asked.
“I don’t think so.  They would know you’d moved and they couldn’t find you, so this is a way to try to smoke you out.  They’re thinking you will be warned they are still after you and will break cover.  They’ll be watching for that.”
“Aren’t we doing just what they want us to do?”
“Maybe, but you have been with the Underhills for twelve months now.  There will be trails they could pick up at any time.  We’ve been in front so far, let’s keep it that way.”
“Is it always going to be like this?”
“No.  When you are over eighteen and classified as an adult, you will be harder to track down.  What we don’t want to do is give them any place to start.  That’s why we’ve been so careful up to now.  From the time of your mother’s accident, Harry Edgeworth ceased to exist.”

“Why are they after me as well?  I haven’t done anything, or seen anything, or heard anything.”
“I’m sure David will explain it to you one day.”
“Secrecy and lies.  That’s what my life has come down to, isn’t it?”
“It’s only temporary.”
“How much do you know?”
“Not much.  I’m given orders that I carry out.  I don’t ask questions.”
“Why not, Claire?”
“Because if I was allowed to know, I already would, and if I ask about what I don’t know, they will only tell me lies.”
“So what can you tell me that I already don’t know.”
Claire glanced at him.  He was serious. “It’s better coming from David.  He knows a lot more than I do.  I may say something wrong.  Much of what I think I know, is based on supposition, from the few facts that I do know.”
“Are you married?”
“No.”
“Boyfriends?”
“Nothing serious.  The job gets in the way.”

 “What about my stuff?”
“That will be brought later.”
“I never said goodbye.”
“Sorry.”
“Do the Underhills know where I’m going?”
“No, and you mustn’t contact them.  They won’t be expecting you to.”
Cathy will, Harry thought.

The rest of the drive to Bristol was silent.  They parked the car and took a train to Cardiff where another car was waiting and they drove to Tredegar.  It was dark when they arrived.  Harry’s things were already there.  Claire took her case out of the boot of the car and unlocked the front door.
“There’s a fish and chip shop in the village. Do you want some?”
“Sure, shall I come with you?”
“Best if you stay here and unpack.  I won’t be long.”
“How long are we going to be here?”
“About a month, I would think.”

David came after three weeks.  He thought it best if Claire stayed while he filled Harry in with a few facts.
“You’re nearly eighteen, Harry, time I levelled with you. We’re pretty sure that your mum’s accident wasn’t an accident. Nor what happened to your father.  Although we still don’t know why and maybe never will.  Your parents led secret lives, Harry.  They worked for MI6.  Do you know what that is?”
“Yes, but I can’t believe it.  We were an ordinary family.  Sure, we moved around a lot, but that was because dad was always doing audits in different places.  What did they really do.”
“Your dad was into finances and your mum helped him.”
“What could they have done to upset someone so much.  And who was it that was so upset to have them murdered?”
“We think there are three main suspects.  Islamic terrorists, the Russians or the Chinese.”
“Why do you want me to go to China if you think they murdered my parents?  Surely that is giving me to them on a plate.”

You will have a new identity when you leave here.”
“Not another one.  Even I will forget who I am, if this carries on.”  Harry said.  Claire looked astonished at this revelation by David, that Harry was going to change his name again.  David reached in to his briefcase and pulled out a large white envelope.  He emptied the contents onto the coffee table they were seated around.  There was a passport, a booklet and several photographs.  Harry looked at the photographs first.
“What are these.  I recognise me, but who are the people with me.  The original photos had my mum and dad in them.”
“We have retained the originals.  They are safe at Vauxhall Cross.  These are your parents that were killed in a road accident.  Their names are Claude and Justine Ferrier.  The booklet is your life story.  Claire will help you memorise it. Your new passport is in the name of Henri Louis Ferrier.”

“No one will have any idea who you really are so you will be in no danger as long as you make the break with the Underhills.  Cathy is a temptation you will just have to resist.  If they even think she knows anything, they will torture her to her death to discover what it is.”  David looked challengingly at Harry.
“I understand.  I won’t contact her, but can you get a message to them to say goodbye?”
“We can do that and explain your silence and their need to observe absolute silence too.  I wanted to point you in a direction for a career, I thought this would be right up your street.  If you don’t want it, let me know and we’ll think of something else.” 
“The career is fine.  I would have chosen something like this myself although probably would have looked to use my European languages.”
“Manufacturing hub of the world is the Far East.  That’s where the opportunities lie.  I have arranged for you to meet a representative of the business you will be working for.  This won’t happen until you are in France.  He visits the Paris office every now and then and will catch up with you on one of those visits.  There are still some arrangements to be made regarding your attendance at the National Institute in Paris and as soon as they are completed, Claire will take you over there and get you settled.” Davis stayed for dinner then Clare drove him to Cardiff railway station. Claire tried to find out which train he was catching, but David was secretive about his destination.  If Claire had stayed around, she would have discovered that David did not catch a train but was met on a platform by a chauffer who escorted him to a car and drove him straight to London.


“Don’t believe what David said about your parents’ roles,” Claire confided when David had left.  “There is no way he would tell you what they actually did.  You’ll probably never know.”
“You think so?”  Harry asked.
“We’ve got a lot of work to do to get you familiar with your new self and your background.  We’ll make a start tomorrow.”
“Who do you think David works for?”  harry asked.
“You guess,” she said.
“MI6?”
“Same guess as mine.” She smiled.  “But it makes little difference to the matter of things, does it?”
“I suppose not. Just like to have more answers than questions.”
“I don’t think sending you to the Far East is by accident either,” she volunteered.
“What are you thinking?”
“Don’t trust what people say or do if they are implying it’s for your benefit.  It rarely is.  You might believe me cynical, but that’s the way my mind works.  It might be a good idea to remember that.”

 

 

 

 

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